Heavy Feet - Spring Mix 2009

I've taken a few years off from EDM because it got to a point where everywhere I went, I was hearing the same few songs with a handful of permutations which lead to a samey feeling every time I would go out. It didn't matter if it was a headliner or a local. Indie dance had kind of failed because it was content to pull out all of the elements of rave culture and fashion while actively distancing themselves from the raves and ravers themselves.

Though with what you find on the internet when you run a google search for "raver" it's totally understandable why you don't want to associate with someone with a Pokemon backpack whose arms are covered in plastic beads.

Indie dance culture tries to maintain a distanced cool in a lot of cases, I guess because enthusiasm betrays a lack of control which shows weakness. I don't know.

I was kind of affected by this and when I got burnt out, and had no desire to go along with the flow into dubstep because I felt it was just to slow for my tastes and was predicated on taking things down a notch. That's just not something that really interested me.

I can appreciate that others enjoy it, but despite repeated attempts to get into it from Burial to Skream have had no results. I don't much like dub either, though I love all other forms of Jamaican music with a huge place in my heart for Ska and Rocksteady.

So recently, I decided to go back into dance and see what had changed. See if anything really exciting had come along. I did this just in time for Felix The Housecat to launch Boppernation, which looks like a great clearing house for news and tracks from that spectrum of house. Today their track of the week (I suppose their first), was Felix Cartal's Drone from his forthcoming album. That wasn't available for download so I went and bought the Skeleton EP and Juno Download suggested I try Heavyfeet's Sasquatch EP, I listened to a few bars of a track and liked what I heard, so I bought that as well.

After a few listens I love it. It's got the heavy clean bass of Speed Garage, a high pitched siren melody, classic breakbeat samples, but it's also got that monster roar of sawtooth bass you get from acts like Vitalic. It's not the most original of pairings, granted, but it's a damn fun one rather well done.

The duo released a Spring Mix which is well worth checking out. I found a copy through Trash Menagerie (though a quick mediafiresearch will also turn it up) and you can find the track listing on their myspace page. It's an hour and a half of rave retooled goodness to house to electrobass to drum and bass. It's well worth your time.

MPHO - Box n Locks

This ties into what I was talking about with regards to eccentric soul and standard marketing of black artists. MPHO is a South African singer by way of the UK who with production by Switch will be releasing Pop Art, a multi-genre pop effort from a woman of color which actively defies genre classifications.



In other news, more Ska Revivalism from Kid British, who are releasing their album It was Either This or Football in two parts.

Ebony Bones and Ninjasonik at Bowery Ballroom 7/29/09

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I had never seen Ebony Bones before, and had only heard about them after Eatsdirt caught them at The Pool Parties last year, but having seen the pictures she captured, I was intrigued.

I love what is termed Eccentric Soul, which I guess is a secret back door marketing term for black music that doesn’t fit into the standard marketing devices. My awareness and appreciation for this is largely to a long time love of the magazine Wax Poetics, which covers Latin and Black music with a crate digger’s ear, but a historian’s ability to dig up information. Using the Internet to track down what they talk about has lead to a ton of interesting and off the wall finds, which have served to broaden my already expansive musical interests and also to further deplete my starved wallet.

So when I see someone like a Janelle Monea, or Outkast, or Gnarls Barkley making great, vibrant music drawing from familiar traditions, I’m drawn to it. Unfortunately with time being pecked to death by the crows of responsibility and obligation, I don’t get much opportunity to seek out all the new music in all the various genres in which I have an interest. This is rather unfortunate, and as such, I am at a loss with regards to many acts.

Ebony Bones is one whose music I had heard but to which I never really listened. It served as background noise put on while surfing other sites whittled down to 64kpbs streamed over Myspace. It’s the audio equivalent of skimming Cliff’s Notes. You’ll catch the barest of basics, enough to get a sense of what’s there, but to try and grasp what’s going on or to speak to someone with a deeper understanding you’ll realize quickly how little you picked up.

Last night, Eatsdirt and myself braved the continuing horrible weather meeting friends to catch Ebony Bones at The Bowery Ballroom. Ninjasonik were a last minute addition to the bill, so I knew that even if recent up and coming band The Drums or Ebony Bones failed to impress, that I would be guaranteed at least one high-energy rambunctious performance. I was also testing out a new camera so I knew that there would be some good shots because Ninjasonik put on a good show.

I’m often have trouble trying to tell people about Ninjasonik without sounding like someone who doesn’t get it or I over explain and sound a bit academic for what many people consider disposable party rap, which to a degree it is, but to use this as a pejorative, is to be dismissive at best and disingenuous at worst. It’s music to make people dance while also speaking from a kind of unique social and cultural experience.

The concerns spoken of are universal concerns of being denigrated anonymously, concerns for originality, sex and consequence concerns, peer concerns, and tales of bon vivant in youth. It’s entirely understandable if people don’t like it, but to attempt to dismiss it due to willful ignorance is unfortunate.

Last night’s show started to a nearly empty room. A few diehards; largely friends of Eatsdirt and me, a few stragglers, and people working. When a band is performing to an empty room, it tends to do one of a few things. It either gets upset and doesn’t perform very well, not really caring about the end result, the “Why Try Harder?” mentality or it goes for broke, because it’s divorced from all consequences anyway, so why not push against convention and do what you want? A sort of apocalyptic nihilism theater. In this venue, it’s the end of the world and now to go out banging.

Last night, Ninjasonik went out banging. The banter was there, Tellie sarcastically quipping that he loved performing to an empty room because it made him feel like a comedian. The music was there (Shoot the Lazer, Negative Thinking about Tight Pants, I Love Art School Girls, Matt and Kim’s Daylight, a Cover/Screamalong/Remix of Bad Brains Attitude). And three songs into it, the girls were there, appearing seemingly out of nowhere one hundred percent dancing and screaming and grinding.

Few things motivate like jiggling tiddies.

They were joined on stage by two people who I didn’t recognize and seemed to be Toasters / Hypemen who added to the show instead of appearing to be hangers on who convinced the band to let them onstage. The show was good for them but if you were antagonistic then it probably wouldn’t have changed your mind. We took a Ninjasonik virgin and she had a blast. Her reactions were almost as entertaining as their antics.

After the set we retreated for Drums, as they were not really my thing. Madchester meets the Cure minus the swagger and poetry. You can download their Summertime EP from rcrdlbl.com.

A few days ago, the Ebony Bones tour van caught fire. Rather dramatically. It destroyed all of their equipment, merch, instruments, and even their passports. At this point in the story, someone would typically say something along the lines of “because the music they make is so hot.” This is why people despise music journalism, so we will dispense with cute puns that make light of shitty situations while also fawning over our topic.

Ebony Bones is a self-taught singer songwriter multi-instrumentalist who is also a Shakespearian actor and BAFTA winning TV Soap Star whose self released singles have twice successively appeared as Singles of the Week on BBC Radio 1. Those of you who didn’t slink off to open your veins can read more about her at her Wikipedia page or you can await the inevitable unenviable comparisons to MIA (women of color doing political and sexual music? This is unprecedented!) after her album Bone of my Bones is released later this year.

Her stage show consists of a drummer, guitarist, two keyboardist/samplers, a tenor saxophonist, and two back up singer/percussionists (though largely their percussion consisted of two instruments a piece). The band files in, a introduction musical segue starts and then the band launches into “We Know All About You”, which is about the encroaching police state which started in the 80s but has exploded post-7/7. The various instruments mesh together to create a great funky undertone and makes police state paranoia danceable.

Having never seen her, nor really heard her, this show was an absolutely amazing experience. The dynamic costumes, the choreographed umbrella and fan dances, the singer led audience dancing, constant movement, the clean almost Speed Garage wall of bass lines, the snippets of lyrical content that make you realize that you’re dancing with wild abandon to songs about economic policy. Bloggers love this shit, so expect to hear a lot about it.

I really can’t say much more beyond do your absolute damndest to get in on the ground floor of this act while you can and NEVER MISS ANOTHER SHOW.

And then Eatsdirt and I had Halal Cart Gyros.

Black Lips, Health, Grupo Fantasama @ JellyNYC Pool Parties 7/26/09

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I had thought that the crowd antics of two weeks ago wouldn't be topped. Fucked up played a loud long messy set to which people propelled themselves at each other like a check list of hardcore punk dance moves. Did I Punch The Floor yet? Did I Start The Lawnmower? Did I Circle?

It wasn't so bad. When I saw them in January at the Market Hotel, my glasses were destroyed, so this time, I was much happier with the outcome.

The Black Lips, man, it wasn't even a contest. Who would think that a cluster of younger hipsters of both sexes could out mosh a nearly all male hardcore equivalent?

Eatsdirt and I spent most of the morning watching That Mitchell and Web Look while getting ready amusing her roommate and ourselves while we prepared. "Cheesoid hate self" and I could relate. The weather report promised hail and rain and torrential downpours to likes of which would probably ruin the mood and get the show canceled, but on the trip over, the rain wasn't in the sky, only the precursor in humidity so god awful you are willing to murder a polar bear or two with your bare (ha!) hands in hopes of getting access to air conditioning.

Packing for what amounts to a one day festival is kind of an art. You’re going to be on concrete in the sun for hours. You have a list of several needs both utilitarian and social. You need to make certain the sun block is handy and strong. You need to make certain that your clothes are strong enough to withstand sweat that may not be yours. You need to make sure you can carry everything you need to document the show. You need to dress comfortably and fashionably but not in a manner which will have you end up on Look At This Fucking Hipster. Last time, my bag over encumbered me a bit, so I tried to pare everything down to a set of cargo pants. I ended up leaving for the Waterfront with a book (never leave home without one), cell phone, point and shoot camera, wallet and keys and was perfectly prepared for the next few hours. So long as it didn’t rain. Fuck. In the film version of this story, the camera cuts to my sensible, compact Totes umbrella lying on my work desk, right where it had been left alone at work to fend for itself against the monsters who live under my desk.

Eatsdirt, as an esteemed member of The Press, does not get off so lucky carrying two DSLR cameras, three lenses, a Holga, an Anorak, wallet, keys, elephant gun, provisions for four days, water for six, diary, maps, flint and tinder, rope, lantern, oil, chocolate cake, a dozen eggs, turkey bacon, portable stove, television, ipod loaded with K-Tel compilations, snow shoes, periscope, the magna carta, telescope, toothbrush, toothpaste, shower kit, razor, and an umbrella. The umbrella was for my benefit. No, I couldn’t even manage to carry my own umbrella. Then I forced her to smuggle water.

The walk to the Waterfront is a short one from Eatsdirt lives and we got to experience The Coming Storm’s opening act in the form of Oppressive Heat and Humidity. I don’t understand how people wore wool all year round a hundred years ago in this area.

The opening band was Grupo Fantasma, and we stroll in and I can hear the Latin beats from a block away and I was in heaven. I love Latin music. I can’t really differentiate between cubano, Salsa, and merengue, but people banging on timbales off the down beats always makes me smile and the use of a rich sounding horn section with trumpet, trombone and baritone sax running alternate on rhythm and melody duties is an instant good time.



I am familiar enough to recognize some of the standards, but not enough to sing along as some of the security did, and there was moment where the band turned to bugaloo as the 70s funk guitar and percussion turned to a wall of sound that built and built and built in intensity, tone and register and then just dropped you to the undistorted guitar and a single simple drum beat for four bars and the roar you hear at your back is no longer that of the speakers in front of you, but rather the crowd behind you.

The predominately Caucasian crowd either nodded along appreciatively or danced and the when they played the last sting on their last song, the crowd screamed its disapproval and shouts of “One more” and “Uno Mas” and various combinations of the two mixed in with first year Spanish pleading. The band happily complied and the nodders nodded, the dancers danced and I wished I had brought money for merch.

It’s always impressive when you see Health’s effects stations get set up. John Famiglietti’s pedal set up looks like a combination of Dan Deacon’s folding table and Doc Brown’s laboratory from Back to the Future and it takes two people to bring it in. John will spend more time with these than with the bass guitar for many of the songs for the set.

I’ve heard Health’s music described as “Progressive” (not certain if that was pejorative), “atonal noise” (that certainly is), “new wave”, “noise rock”, “art rock”, “punk” and all of those fit but what struck me yesterday was that it had a lot in common with Black Metal. Black Metal of the Liturgy style, and not like, say, Wolves in the Throne Room. Challenging god-awful noise designed to brutalize the listener while exploring heretofore barren maps of sketched in continents and seas. Here Be Dragons and all that.



And it when the Dragons are there pressing your clothes against your body from the bass and from the chaos catch a faint melodic overture running counter to all you would expect that the listener nearly experiences transcendence.

If you’re wired for it, you’re wired for it. It clicks automatically and you like it. If you aren’t then it’s an utter waste of your time and thankfully the internet exists so that you can anonymously slag off to everyone you know about the shittiest band you’ve ever seen and why can’t they just have more music like X, Y, or Z?

It’s impossible to not take good pictures of Health. They are in constant motion using their whole bodies in worship of their sounds. Hair, Limbs, instruments flail, whip, and twist, independent entities team up and move in unison for a few frames then shatter apart. The musicians drive the sound and in turn are driven by the sound in a closed loop. Ouruboros.

The shots you see on Flickr or Brooklyn Vegan or Superglued reflect that, and it’s an amazing thing to behold.

Again, if you’re wired for it, YMMV, past performance is no indicator of future performance, etc.



I don’t know if I’m the right person to try to sell you on the Black Lips. They’re fun, and musically sound, but I wasn’t surging forward climbing over photographers trying to get up on the stage. I have never thought I’d see so many white teenagers mosh to a song about Hurricane Katrina. When I saw two people lose their glasses, I got out of the way of the gelatinous press of sweaty young flesh not wishing to be the third.



The music was garage rock of the type that was popular in the 60s but informed by music since then, so there is a definite pop sensibility in structure and scope, but there is nothing really challenging about it. It’s fun, danceable, music which is up beat fast and coupled with a stage presence that encouraged that sort of mad energy in youth. Someone threw a small guitar and the singer grabbed, smashed it to bits on the stage and threw the pieces back into the audience. Someone lobbed a dodge ball and it nearly hit Joe Bradley, who kept drumming but with a smile that reads as a cross between “oh, you guys!” and “try harder.”

The pictures tell the story of the crowd better than I could. I left to get water and read for a bit.

The weather held out until the end of the set. The pressure changed abruptly before The Black Lips went on, so we were blessed with a nice steady breeze making the day a bit more bearable.

The rain did not hold out and against an impressive display of lightning, the concert was closed down. Once I heard that someone playing cricket in Brooklyn was hit by lightning and his clothes exploded off his body like a victim of The Overfiend, I felt that the law was most likely correct in this case.

After this, Eatsdirt and I had crab burgers. And they were delicious.

Sirenfest 2009

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There were a number of bands here I didn't catch either because I hadn't switched over to Digital yet (was using film for the first few hours before I remembered I brought my digital camera). Bands missing form here are: The Tiny Masters of Today, Michachu and the Shapes, Blue Van, Bear Hands, Monotonix, and A Place To Bury Strangers.

Main Stage

Tiny Masters are a band of prepubescent kids with zero stage presence. It seems they get by on "aw, that's cute" factor more than any actual skill, but at that age i don't really expect any.

Michachu and the Shapes are a fun eccentric pop, which differs from quirky pop in that quirky pop is more twee. Michachu and the shapes just seem to be determined to make pop music by outre means.


Japandroids - This is a two piece grage rock (for lack of better word band. Drummer and Guitarist both share vocal duties and the guitarist tries to push his instrument harder so you don't notice the lack of bassist in the band. This band was a lot of fun live and i really look forward to seeing them again.



Frightened Rabbit - This is a four piece scottish pop band. They'd been on my radar thanks to a coworker at my previous company but circumstances always prevented me from catching them. They play jangly BritPop which will tell you right away if you will enjoy or hate this band.



Grand Dutchy - This is the band that Frank Black (pixies) has with his wife. I only heard a handful of songs and don't recall much beyond kind of pop, kind of dancey. But listening to the stuff they have on their Myspace page I think that there is more to this band than what little I was able to catch.



The Raveonettes- This was my first exposure to this band. They struck me as a kind of art rock band, and listening to their songs on myspace kind of confirms that. If you like stuff like Suicide, Velvet Underground and other kind of rambling music that casually meanders from point A to point B, then you will probably enjoy this.



Built To Spill - Alternative legends that have survived to the indie period. According to Edwina they can get kind of Jammy at times, but that wasn't really on display yesterday, or wasn't for the time we were there. Think Dinosaur Jr.




Stillwell Stage

Blue Van - Didn't See

Bear Hands - Didn't See

Thee Oh Sees- We only caught the final end of this set as the main stage started to run later and later. What we caught was kind of amazing in it was a guy who seemed determined to destroy his teeth with his guitar. The music sounded like experimental rock, but we only caught one song as I said.



Future of the Left - Amazing set.



A Place to Bury Strangers - Shoegaze. Strongly influenced by MBV to the fact that I heard some of the same riffs. Most of our exposure to this band was waiting in the line for the porta potties.



Monotonix - decided to play in the audience so security kicked everyone out of the photo pit. I used this opportunity to get food.

Spank Rock / Ninjasonik / Amanda Blank- This was pretty insane. Naeem took the stage, yelled at the photographers, ordered everyone to jump the fence into the vip pit and then with the help of Ninjasonik and Amanda Blank put on the BEST set of the festival. AT some point "something happened" but I didn't see what, but it left Naeem on his back kicking the stage trying to push the monitors ontop of Rafe and Tova (also on this list) then he lept behind the dj table and laid there for like 20 more minutes. Amanda Blank was on hand (not on tour as I thought) and she did several songs from her new album while Naeem recovered/ pulled himself together. There was some impromptu DMC style turntable shit and then Naeem came back and he and Amanda did some of their collaborative tracks together and then they cut the stage which almost forced a riot. Edwina and I, having been on our feet in the sun for 8 hours decided to just go catch the train rather than see the outcome of the crowd's chant for "one more song"