Thanks Ario!

This review is from the heart. And Burial is so far the most important CD of the decade.

Burial :: Burial (Hyperdub, CD) Luca Maini, Contributing Editor of Igloo Magazine

(06.18.06) There’s not much left to say about this record, really. Everyone is talking about Burial, from webzines to online record shops to widespread paper magazines, and everyone agrees this is a stunning debut album. My first reaction was suspicious, fearing that dubstep overexposure might have caused some kind of over-hype, but once I put Burial in my player, I instantly recognized its absolute greatness. I just wrote enthusiastic words about Boxcutter and his Oneiric, and now comes this, which will be 95% my 2006 winner.
I do really want to point out that everything you heard or read about Burial is true: it’s probably the most emotional dubstep record ever made, borrowing inspiration from the roots of the genre but also from the static noise contamination of Basic Channel and Pole (“Distant Lighs,” “Gutted,” “Prayer”), and even adding a bit of raw synth taken from hardcore jungle (“Southern Comfort”). About the crackling digital debris that covers many parts of the record, Burial say that it’s not a reminiscence of vinyl’s surface noise, but it’s meant to recall the static interference of pirate radio transmissions. This is only one of the many reasons that caused boasting reviews in the UK, someone dared to define Burial as the most important album of the decade, and while I won’t second such an ambitious statement, I have to admit that there are not so many records in my mind that could justify such praise. Consider also that among my many friends who have deep musical knowledge, and who like very different stuff from what I listen to, they all agree Burial is an awesome record, no matter if they’re fond of indie rock, improv, minimal techno, breakcore or noise.

I still have to find someone who doesn’t appreciate Burial, but I feel it’ll be a hard task. Don’t ask me how deep the bass is, or if the breaks follow the latest trends, it’s the whole sound that mesmerizes the listener. Find the nearest retailer that stocks it and join the already huge fan base.

Cloudland Canyon

Two ways to tell that a show is amazing: nobody in the venue’s talking much and nobody’s ordering drinks. Such was the case last night at the Sunset for the Lichens/Cloudland Canyon/Richard Bishop/Acre gig (previewed here on Line Out). These performers riveted the 40 or so attendees (The Stranger’s hype machine must’ve had a few bugs in it this week) with sets that bordered on the revelatory.

Sir Richard Bishop earned his honorific with solo acoustic-guitar picking that combined—and combusted—mercurial folk picking with various ethno-sonic allusions that hinted at cultures superior to our own. Bishop played with a surprising savagery that nullified his riffing off the word “fuckstick” between songs, which became a bit tiresome after the third reference. (Dude’s sense of humor is usually much sharper than this; anyway, catch Sir Rick opening for Os Mutantes July 26 at the Moore.)

Cloudland Canyon touched on pastoral Kraut rock and subliminal techno throb in between their customary beatific dronescaping, which was bolstered by Lichens’ (Robert Lowe of 90 Day Men and TV on the Radio) contributions on FX boxes/voice/bells. This compelling set segued into Lowe’s solo shot as Lichens. Leaving his guitar at home, Lowe strictly used his vocal cords, which he fed into processors/FX pedals and layered into a sublime, wildly pitched mantra of dazzling, wordless tongues. It felt as if we were listening to a gorgeous sermon on another planet; you innately understood Lowe’s message without really sussing its origins or details. All you knew was that your entire body was coalescing into one massive goose bump and that liquor and conversation never seemed less important.

One of the best music magazines in existence, Wax Poetics, has an insanely in-depth interview/oral history in its hiphop issue with Public Enemy’s Bomb Squad production crew: Chuck D, Hank and Keith Shocklee, and Eric “Vietnam” Sadler. If you care anything about the best rap group ever (I’m willing to entertain differing opinions), then you need to check out this piece.

Also in WP’s quality pages are a heartfelt tribute to the recently deceased J Dilla by hiphop luminaries such as Q-Tip, De La Soul, Jazzy Jeff, Common, Questlove, Waajeed, Peanut Butter Wolf, and others but, oddly, not Madlib; maybe he was too distraught), an overview of the Bay Area’s hyphy scene, a reminiscence about the early DJ battles in NYC among Kool Herc, Pete Jones, and “seminal rapper” Grandmaster Flash, and loads of other literary nuggets for the hiphop aficionado/crate-digger.

Not to bite Pitchfork too hard, but they’ve got the dirt on the new Rapture album. Check it out.

All-ages expert Megan Seling guides you through the week’s top live music picks on the first edition of Audible Up and Comings. Check it out and let us know what you think (we know you will).

Thanks to misinformation posted on the Nectar Lounge website, I was under the impression that Iceage Cobra was playing there tonight. They’re not, which is too bad. However, the nice boys in the Space Cretins will be there, and they are certainly worth your time as well.

Tickets, if you can believe it, are still available for tomorrow night’s Iron Composer/Drink for the Kids Vera benefit at the Showbox, where Fred Armisen goes up against Martin Crandall and Dave Hernandez of the Shins. The most awesome part? David Cross, Todd Barry, and Jon Benjamin judge their booze-filled songwriting efforts. Heeee-larious. And one more cherry on the sundae, Pleaseeasaur opens the show. Pleaseeasaur likes wearing costumes on stage.

You can get your tickets at the Showbox Box Office (Mon-Fri, 11 am-6 pm), any Rudy’s Barbershop, and select QFC outlets. You can also charge by phone at 1-800-922-TIXX or online by www.vivavera.org.

If you think Justin Warfield’s lyrics in She Wants Revenge are stupid, just peep his bars from when he was still a shitty nerd-rapper under Prince Paul’s tutelage:

I got my skullcap on, then the flow from my mind starts
As I rip for days from the land of the mic arts
Cream of the crop, a cool, blue beatnik
Blessed with the gift, and now it’s time to kick the ill shit
Love to eat the scallops, and quit with the doo-doo raps
Stay away from ill crack, listen to the Fatback
Smooth on a rough track, time to catch a catnap
If you are my brother, I’ll be sure to give you much dap
Ya bound to get your head smacked, if you try to illjack
Get your kit from Acme, set yourself an ill trap
I used to talk of vickin’, would step and finger-lickin’
But now my mic endeavors have improved over time
Oh yeah, I’m still the same brother who has got to pickin’
So listen to the moody groove, piano, and the vibes…

Sub Pop just announced that their last show will be at the Crystal Ballroom on August 11th. Look for more details in next week’s Rocka Rolla column.

Last night I managed to fight my fatigue and made it down to Trinity to hear some house music. I was assured by a friend that it wouldn’t be crap, and to my shock, they were right. I’ll be the first to admit that Trinity is not high on my list of places I really want to be on the weekend, I have to admit that their Wednesday weekly shows promise and that I’m likely to return.

When I first heard of Proper Wednesdays a few months ago it was right around the night’s inception and hadn’t quite found its legs, since the time I tried to check it out it was over pretty early. I’m glad I went back last night to see what they had on offer. In the bar, Jon Lee and Expo were holding it down with some decent house tracks (not entirely West Coast, but with leanings there). They played things pretty fast, but it worked, and had themselves a bit of a dance area in front of the DJ booth. In the blue room there were DJs playing drum and bass, and while their track selection and mixing were more than capable (I spent half my evening in there), as the night moved on their audience drifted either home or to the bar area. Other than the noise bleed issues (curtains make an unsurprisingly poor acoustic dampener), the two rooms worked well together, providing a pleasing contrast.

The night seemed filled with regulars, but most importantly it was a welcoming environment for a newcomer such as myself. Some nights (Flammable for instance) can be a bit intimidating, and while that’s no one’s fault, it’s nice to see that Seattle isn’t always that way. It’s refreshing to see that this new night is picking up, and one that I’ll be keeping in mind for future Wednesdays, especially since their stable of DJs is solid. And if you needed any more convincing, it’s free.

Lichens (Robert Lowe)

…is where you’ll be if you hit the Sunset Tavern tonight. Going down (or up, as the case may be) there is what promises to be one of the psychedelic musical events of the summer. In this week’s Stranger, I rant here and here about Cloudland Canyon, and Steven Sawada and I discuss Lichens here and here, respectively. You already know how amazing guitarist Sir Richard Bishop is, so quit hemming and hawing and prepare to get your head exquisitely massaged by these highly evolved masters of transcendental drones and tones.

Beefs between artists are silly enough; now we have labels engaging in their own version of a stand-off. Man, I remember the days when I was horrified by the prospect of mergers and consolidations leaving us with only 4 major labels. I’d like to think the rise of indies and the internet makes this a somewhat moot point, but hell, let’s just give up and go to one major label, shall we?

Last night I had the pleasure of hearing the latest Oh Sees record, Cool Death Of Island Raiders at a friends house. We were drinking on the back porch with the stereo speakers in the living room angled towards us and the music was just audible between conversations. Eventually I had to excuse myself to go inside and get a better listen.

Oh Sees (formerly OCS) is the latest musical venture of San Francisco’s prolific John Dwyer (Pink&Brown, Coachwhips), and its a drastic departure from the cartoon noise and gutter garage rock he’s made in previous bands.

Oh Sees music is wispy and frail folk with the only hints of Dwyer’s raucous roots showing up in the densely lo-fi production and the occasionally crass song titles. It’s beautiful, broken pop music from an unlikely source, definitely worth checking out.

There must have been a kind of pre-historic time for rock music in Seattle before Sub-Pop, before Nirvana, before The EMP, when Jimi Hendrix or The Sonics could make music in a town that didn’t have an established scene or story. Now, of course, we live after the fall of grunge, in the wake of our historical moment, with our contribution to rock’s narrative already set for posterity under museum glass.

And so our current music scene is drenched in a kind of regret and nostalgia, our brightest bands are all of the “featuring former members of” variety, and shows often lack a certain vitality- they should be alive with possibility but instead they’re flat and static.

Which brings me to last night’s show at The Rendezvous, a Seattle venue that absolutely sags under the weight of its own history. Playing in the Jewel Box Theater (est. 1924!) was Triumph Of Lethargy Skinned Alive To Death, featuring Spencer Moody and Dann Galluci of Murder City Devils, and some band consisting of Seth Warren and the mohawked guitar player from Suffering And The Hideous Thieves (I think his name’s Joel). These guys go way back in Seattle, as evidenced by the crowd for their show (featuring members of Blood Brothers, Kill Sadie, etc, etc), and my expectations were pretty high.

The ex-theives played first, with Seth playing effected violin (and occasionally kicking the amp to make the spring reverb sound like thunder) while Joel played spare electric guitar and wailed plaintively about whiskey and such. He kind of came off like Chris Carrabba trying out for Lucero. Not my cup of whiskey.

I had higher hopes for TOLSATD, having seen them absolutely terrorize the Punkin House basement with their electric guitar dirges and Spencer’s confrontational sing-speaking. At that show, his vocals were fire and brimstone, and his guitar player was all dirt and distortion. This time, everything seemed reined in and reserved. Dann Galluci seemed positively wasted (squandered, not drunk) behind the drum kit, while Spencer orated like a professor over subdued guitar work. Spencer is a magnetic presence on stage, but without the massive rock of MCD or Smoke & Smoke behind him I’d just as soon watch him sing karaoke.

I try to stay out of the Seattle Weekly vs. Stranger rivalry as much as I can, but this really can’t be overlooked. This is their preview of Thursday’s Ozzfest show:

Ozzfest: Black Sabbath + Judas Priest + Slayer + Dimmu Borgir + Superjoint Ritual + Black Label Society + Lacuna Coil + Every Time I Die + more

The last time we saw Ozzy Osbourne perform, his vocal chords kept giving out, resulting in a reluctance to shoot for the higher notes of his back catalog. But the man still puts on an engaging show filled with plenty of leap-frog jumps, childlike hand claps, and jumping jacks (we are serious!) Aside from Ozzy, however, the only band that seems to be worth a damn on the bill is former Ozzy guitarist Zakk Wylde’s band, Black Label Society (although the Slayer reunion and Lacuna Coil are solid picks too—Ed.). With that in mind, the emergency tent might be more fun to watch than the performers.

This is a gaffe on quite a few levels. For one, Black Sabbath isn’t playing—Ozzy is doing a solo set. Secondly, Judas Priest isn’t playing—but they did play TWO YEARS ago. Thirdly, Slayer not only isn’t playing, they certainly aren’t “reuniting” (they never broke up). However, Slayer will play at Qwest Field on Seattle on July 14.

Dear Weekly music writers: I love a good stoning as much as the next metalhead, but I think it’s time for you to put down the bong. Or at the very least, try checking the festival website before you go to print.

My buddy Kid Congo Powers, of Gun Club/The Cramps/Congo Norvell/The Bad Seeds, etc., posted an item in his MySpace blog late last night that has me seriously thinking about jumping on a plane to L.A.. It seems that tomorrow, Thursday, June 29, as part of the Don’t Knock The Rock 2006 film festival, Kid, guitarist Ward Dotson, and drummer Terry Graham are playing a single Gun Club reunion show after the opening night screening of the Gun Club/Jeffrey Lee Pierce documentary Ghost on the Highway.

But who is filling in for long-gone Jeffrey? Here’s what Kid disclosed, following “band practice” last night (emphases mine):

Thalia Zedek (whom you know from her solo records, and COME and LIVE SKULL before that) is singing and I am so honered and thrilled and she is doing a most amazing job. Now I am really excited. I can tell you I had some trepidation about doing this at all, it really didn’t appeal to me to do a “reunion” with out Jeffrey (which means I figured it “impossible” ) but I have changed my mind. This is really a one off for me, so i plan to enjoy it.

He goes on to say that they are performing ten songs, just from the first three albums (Fire of Love, Miami, and Las Vegas Story). For the love of God, Kid, make a soundboard recording and make it available to Gun Club (and Thalia Zedek) fans who can’t make it!

David Yow and Scratch Acid: Coming to the Showbox! But hey, wasn’t he banned for life from Washington state? On a related note, doesn’t the line-up for the Touch and Go festival look amazing? Thanks to Line Out reader Levislade for the heads up.

Sleater-Kinney: Don’t bother calling the doctor, they are out. However, they will play one more Portland date (to be announced soon). If you’ve never had the opportunity to watch this woman on stage, I suggest you plan on going.

Michael Jackson and Madonna’s former producer: Jailed in the Middle East because of drug charges. I don’t see this ending nicely.

The Intonation Festival: Something I really wish I could have been at. As if the Blue Cheer reunion wasn’t enought, Roky Erickson’s performance sounds particularly heavenly. (Link requires registration, sorry.)

The Arcade Fire: Close to being finished with their new album.

The Residents: Still weird.

Purportedly, Mangum himself posted this on the E6 message board under the pseudonym “Nigh.” Pitchfork seems to have made this their big news/gossip for the day.

for the past few months ive been putting together the pieces of everything ive written in the past three years and its been a revelation. whenever i had the time ive been writing melodies and keeping them in my head for later, and songs just accumulate, im not waiting as some have said. i still dont know how we’re going to put it all together, the songs will have more noises and collages in them. because of that we dont know whether this will be korena pang or neutral milk hotel or michael bolton but that doesnt really matter. names are just a box we put things in to separate them, and we’re figuring out what box these songs go in.

we dont have a timetable for releasing the album yet, so dont get your hopes up for new songs now. if you want more “aeroplane” just ignore all of this, the songs are songs but they’re longer and more free. when jeremy came down after his tour we just spent days playing noise while screaming and it was incredibly liberating.

it has been so much fun that we will for sure be playing a show or two, probably more. freedom is a wonderful thing but at a certain point you need the routines of normal life. ive had that for a while but i realized last year at the show with the livys that the best sort of normal ive ever had was on the road with my friends. getting to gigs late with cars coughing and trombones smacking on doors, the giant egg leaks over the masses, the yolk sustains us, we eat whites for days. it can never be the same but i need to get as close as i can to that again.

so thats all. everything is happening soon, this is the year.

thanks for listening. jeff.

I doubt this is Jeff. Everything is just a little too in-line with all of the reports and rumors that have trickled in during his leave. There is the reference to noise, the desire to leave behind anything remotely close to Aeroplane, the strange analogies (I presume these were included to reflect his troubled mental state). It all seems so contrived. In fact, the post reads much like this interview in Pitchfork a few years ago.

At some point, I believe Mangum will make a return to music, albeit in a very limited capacity. But I don’t think this is him. If anyone is interested, my offer on the New Zealand bootleg still stands.

The departure of Seattle Symphony executive director Paul Meecham announced Monday has not only fueled ongoing rumors of friction between Meecham and music director/conductor Gerard Schwarz, but resurrected speculation about the musicians’ widespread weariness with Schwarz, whose contract was recently extended to 2011. Barring an abrupt resignation or all-out revolt, Schwarz, who became music director in 1985, will become the orchestra’s longest-serving maestro.

The Seattle Weekly’s Roger Downey blogged about it here while articles in the Seattle Times and the P-I offer more details.

Some of the musicians I’ve spoken to express frustration with Schwarz, ranging from technical gripes about his conducting (I’ve had a few myself, yet to be fair you can always find orchestra musicians to complain about any conductor) to long-held grudges both public and private (such as the l’affaire Cerminaro) to a simple desire for new blood, new approaches, and maybe new music.

Because your studio isn’t complete without the gear that Kraftwerk used on “Autobahn.” Oh no it isn’t. The auction has about a week to go, high rolla.

Thanks to Skye Williamson.

Don’t wanna pay full price for Bumbershoot this year? Kane Hodder to the rescue!

As posted on the band’s website, hodderrock.com, you can get discounted Bumbershoot tickets if you order them before July 14th at bumbershoot.org/presale.

Here’s the skinny: tickets go on sale to the public on July 15th at $25 for a daily ticket, and $70 for a 3-day pass. At the gate, pay just $30 for a single day, and $80 for a 3-day pass.

But, take advantage of this special pre-sale offer, and pay only $18 for the daily ticket, or $50 for a 3-day pass! PLUS, during the pre-sale only, your ticket surcharge will be waived! This is a huge savings off an already low price, but it’s a very limited offer… so what are you waiting for?

To redeem: The pre-sale is on now and available exclusively at bumbershoot.org/presale, while supplies last. Use your special access code: “KANE” and save! Once the pre-sale is over, the $18 daily tickets and $50 3-day passes will no longer be available anywhere, so don’t delay.
Expires: July 14th or when discounted tickets sell out, whichever comes first!

Hodder plays the EMP SkyChurch on Monday, Sept 4th.

I don’t know how common this scenario is, but viewed through the prism of Weird Al Yankovic (a scary thought in its own right), record companies are shafting artists with the digital-download model. Read this for the gory details.

To his fans, Weird Al writes:

I am extremely grateful for your support, no matter which format you choose to legally obtain my music in, so you should do whatever makes the most sense for you personally. But since you ASKED… I actually do get significantly more money from CD sales, as opposed to downloads. This is the one thing about my renegotiated record contract that never made much sense to me. It costs the label NOTHING for somebody to download an album (no manufacturing costs, shipping, or really any overhead of any kind) and yet the artist (me) winds up making less from it. Go figure.

Ultimately, one wonders how a music-biz vet like Weird Al could sign a contract that so royally screws him.

Thanks to Nipper for the tip.

Brace yourselves Sleater-Kinney fans. According to the press dept. at Sub Pop, this summer’s shows from the trio will be their last act together as a band until further notice. Here’s the statement, from the band, being issued to the national media at noon PST:

“After eleven years as a band, Sleater-Kinney have decided to go on indefinite hiatus. The upcoming summer shows will be our last. As of now, there are no plans for future tours or recordings.

We feel lucky to have had the support of many wonderful people over the years. We want to thank everyone who has worked with us, written kind words about us, performed with us, and inspired us.

But mostly we want to extend our gratitude to our amazing fans. You have been a part of our story from the beginning. We could not have made our music without your enthusiasm, passion, and loyalty. It is you who have made the entire journey worthwhile.

With love and thanks,

Sleater-Kinney”

Final tour dates are:
Jul 29 Mellwood Arts Center, Louisville,KY
Jul 31 Starlight Ballroom, Philadelphia,PA
Aug 01 930 Club, Washington,DC
Aug 02 Webster Hall, New York City,NY
Aug 04 Lollapalooza (Grant Park), Chicago,IL

Maybe you better buy Lollapalooza tix after all?

Respected Detroit DJ and producer Aaron-Carl returned to his home Monday evening to discover that he was dead. He had passed away earlier that morning, in a fatal car accident. Gathering at his home to mourn his passing, his friends used his instant messenger accounts to deliver the sad news to friends, fans and associates around the world.

Aaron-Carl, 1973-2006-

Aaron-Carl, who was in fact not dead and had spent the day collecting what remained of his car and dealing with insurance companies, was surprised to say the least when his inbox was filled with condolences, and his home with mourners:

They screamed, like they saw a ghost. I screamed, because my music was playing in the background, my pictures were all over the place, candles were lit…

In an e-mail clarifying certain details about his death, he had one final request:

To those who expressed love, respect and concern for me while I was “dead,” please continue to express these same feelings while I’m still ALIVE.

Alas, this week we have lost, and then regained, a vital force in electronic music. Goodbye and Hello Aaron-Carl. Live long and prosper, and rest in peace.

Stranger freelancer Tony Ware writes:

Recently I experienced the Busta Rhymes’ single “I Love My Bitch,” and its heartfelt appreciation for the long-suffering Nubian Princess made me think of another such tribute from a simpler time. Back in the 19 Hundredth and 94th Year of Our Lord LL Cool J an MC named Tasty Taste from the group Niggaz with Hats, a.k.a. N.W.H., proved that, in the words of rapper Tone Def, “The Black man was the first sensitive man, long before Alan Alda.” Tasty Taste did so with the following words:

“I want to make you mine/Slap your fat behind/Tie you down and make you whine/I want you to scratch my itch/And be my bitch/Because I love you girl.”

These words—much like when Busta says, “I love my girl ‘cause she knows the shit/She acting kinda ill but she ain’t scared of the dick”—show a man expressing his vulnerability. I would like to commend these men for showing how a thug can love.

When a band sounds EXACTLY like another band, what do you think?

Sure, artists are influenced by other artists. Look at painters – Van Gogh, the surrealists, and the impressionists. Van Gogh practiced by painting Monet’s and other artists, and the impressionists fed off each other. Musicians are no different.

But when a band sounds EXACTLY like another band, at what point does it became a rip off? At what point does it become plagiarism?

How many bands can sound like Radiohead, or The Strokes, or My Morning Jacket?

How do labels sign these bands and tout them as hot? Am I the only one feeling ripped off?

Trent - out.

CBS has announced that the new cast for the next season of the reality show Rockstar will include Portland’s most eccelectic, erotic export: Storm Large. She makes regular appearences in Seattle and has a weekly show in Portland. Naturally, The Mercury caught on to her first, but we’re rather fond of her too (see a recent Up & Coming I wrote about her here).

She’s a talented, obscenely charismatic performer with a beautiful, dramatic voice, but I have no doubt that CBS execs were as impressed with her beautiful, dramatic appearance as they were with her vocal talents. So what exactly is she competing for? The winner will become the lead singer for a new super group ingeniously named “Supernova” and featuring drummer Tommy Lee, former Guns ‘N Roses guitarist Gilby Clarke, and former Metallica bassist Jason Newsted. I’m no fan of reality TV, but I might be willing to endure the presence of icky judge Dave Navarro to watch some of it this time around. The premier episode airs next Wednesday, July 5th.

If you love music but hate electricity, here’s the player for you.

Well, maybe i ain’t the only one not drinking the Spankrock punch.

One of my faves:

Not long after an artform or regional aesthetic is exploited into the mainstream, it typically peaks at some point in popularity, then slowly dies to be replaced by the next trend. but when pioneers are established, then you can have different schools of style and approach within an artform; that allows styles to evolve beyond the “pop culture” status.

Underworld have released the final installment of their Riverrun trilogy, I’m a Big Girl, and I’m a Sister, and I’m a Princess, and This is My Horse. It’s a half hour or so of audio, a photo slideshow and some cover art for its non-existent package. It’ll cost you about five quid.

It’s a brave project conceptually, one that allows them to more fully explore the duo’s visual side, and also get their sounds into our ears without the months or years it takes for the physical music biz to digest and excrete recorded product.

It also happens to be a cool project musically, a dark and atmospheric seedbed for Karl Hyde’s elliptical, illogical monotone, complemented by some texture-y black and white photographs that, oddly, remind me of the low-rez scanned and proto-Photoshopped photographs of ’80s and ’90s zine culture.

Good stuff indeed. Go forth and purchase, etc.

These words come from an anonymous author (most likely label boss Jon Wozencroft) affiliated with Touch, a British record company specializing in experimental electronic music and esoteric field recordings. Touch is celebrating 25 years in the biz with a compilation titled Touch 25 (which I’m reviewing in the next Data Breaker).

The industry has been exposed by the heated challenges to its control over manufacturing and distribution. Turning to the new revenues of telematics, computer games and downloads, music becomes the ID-card to new practices pursued by business, and an adventure playground for the consumer collector.

For a lot of people, the ability to download mp3s, locate live torrents on Dime, blogsite, podcast and self-cast onto an i-Pod desert island, is a wonderful thing. The audience seems to be in control, probably in a honeymoon period that masks the deeper questions of infinite hard-disks, brain damage and Chinese firewalls. Can the amount of data coming online possibly keep up with the amount of storage available—what will happen? Will data be selectively removed… History about to be unwritten? What will your brain feel like when you find it has disappeared?

And I thought I was a paranoid technophobe…

Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim, in their never-ending quest to corner the market on cool (Pee Wee’s Playhouse arrives on July 10), has just released Chocolate Swim, a downloadable EP of fresh music from hot label Chocolate Industries. The six-song EP lacks the overreaching concept of a release like Danger Doom, but still is a pretty high-profile avenue for some new music (they already play hot music on the network and I know I’m looking forward to what comes from their Stone’s Throw collaboration). Alongside such heavy-hitters as Mos Def, MF Doom, Vast Aire, and Lady Sovereign, you’ll find our own DJ Collage, whose collaboration with Ghislain Poirier “Mic Diplomat” also finds its way onto the release (it’s also going to be featured on EA Sports’ NBA Live 07). If you didn’t believe the hype from Stranger Suggests this week, here’s a chance to right that wrong. DJ Collage is making moves.

See? Not Scary.

Sorry, kids, but the “Scary Clown” is dead. You can find him in the meme graveyard right next to Astronaut, Pirate, Mexican Wrestler, and Ninja.

Not everyone seems to have gotten the message, though, as evidenced by the line of suburban teens in clown makeup outside El Corazon. For some reason, tonight’s show by Twiztid, some Insane Clown Posse spin-off, didn’t make it in to The Stranger Suggests (hey, it’s a busy weekend) but that doesn’t seem to have hurt their draw.

See? Not scary.

So what is it about the “Scary Clown” that strikes such a chord with the kids? I guess I can understand liking rap-metal if you’re young, white, male, privileged, pissed off, and not very smart. But why clowns? Is the clown makeup the “real you” that nobody else understands, that your parents and your principal can’t handle because it’s too “twiztid” for them? And why would already acne-laden, dateless teens want to fuck up their complexions more by applying face paint before they go rock out and sweat a whole bunch?

If you wanna see something really scary, watch Capturing The Friedmans. The clown in that movie is downright terrifying.

Not that it matters or anything, but is Alexander O’Neal gay? The possibility never occurred to me until I watched, a few minutes ago, the 1987 video for his hit “If You Were Here Tonight.”

Come to think of it, his two biggest hits were not very kind to women. In “Fake,” he and his (male) friends (“hey fellas, we’re going to talk about a woman who is fake/fellas, can I get you to put your hands together for that”) denounce a woman for lacking real substance; and in “Criticize,” he tells a woman to basically shut her mouth and leave him and his (male) friends alone. I’ll still love Alex if he is gay and all, but why did it take me 20 years to see the signs?

Because you’re such a god-blessed music nerd, you need to become a member of MOG and let the world see your record collection, plus you need to see other music nerds’ collections, discuss their merits, share your knowledge, and, and, never go outside again. Yeah.

The MOG mission statement:

Creating a MOG lets you share your musical side like nothing else. Our “MOG-O-MATIC” application creates a basic MOG page for you, so your friends can see your music collection and the artists, albums and songs you actually listen to. As you collect and listen to music, MOG-O-MATIC keeps score for the world to see. Customizing and making your page an extension of your musical soul is made easy. And soon, you will even be able to add MOG to your blog or MySpace page. Just register for MOG, then download MOG-O-MATIC and get your page up and running. Then explore what some other moggers are into. MOG is FREE.

I’m debating whether to join. How about you?

…is its title: Impeach My Bush. (It has more oomph if you’ve seen the Peachy one in her shocking-pink hot pants.)

Coming out July 11 on XL, Impeach My Bush is an improvement over the Canadian vocalist/producer’s dire last full-length, Fatherfucker, but that’s not saying much. Her debut disc, The Teaches of Peaches, remains the raunchy rabble-rouser’s peak.

In theory, I wholly support what Peaches (AKA Merrill Nisker) is doing: spitting double-entendre-laden lyrics that would make Howard Stern blush over aggressive, gritty electro beats and throwing reverse-sexist-pig sentiments right back into said swines’ snouts. On disc, however, her XXX taunts and cum-hither overtures hit with a dull thud, as she repeats them ad infinitum until they lose their sting. Further, the music’s not interesting enough to overcome these strategic flaws, often succumbing to LCD rhythms and guitar riffs to bludgeon home Peaches’ already blatantly lewd lyrics. Impeach My Bush shows a bit more subtlety sonically, but as titles like “Fuck or Kill,” “Tent in Your Pants,” and “Slippery Dick” prove, Ms. Nisker is still prone to verbal infelicities.

Peaches plays August 9 at the Showbox with… Eagles of Death Metal. Start scheming now to weasel your way backstage.

I still have yet to write any sort of summary of my Sonar experience (in short, it was incredible), but here are two Seattle-related sights from my trip to Barcelona:

In Barcelona, the postering is all very clean and organized. I don’t mind the Seattle postering style, but there are poles in Barcelona that seem to exist for only that purpose. The pole size (3ft. diameter) lends itself to huge posters (2’ x 3’), so it’s pretty easy to find out about the bigger happenings. Considering the size of the venues you need to have posters that size to pull in the necessary numbers. As for this poster, if you look at tonight’s date, you’ll see that locals (to us) The Gossip are playing tonight (considering the time zone difference, it’s more in a few hours).

Dave’s already said plenty about Infernal Noise Brigade founder and !Tchkung! rhythm-sectioner Filastine here, so I won’t repeat that. I met him before his set prior to dj /rupture, and he’s an incredibly nice guy along with being a very engaging performer (and very mobile for a guy with a broken leg). This picture is from that performance, not held in a club but in a space known as La Makabra. It’s an autonomous community that’s brokered a deal with the police for their own independence, so it exists on the edges of anarchy in a more gritty part of Barcelona. In short, it was the perfect space for the evening’s mix of reggae, grime, ragga jungle, and other urban beats. I’ve got video I’ll post once it’s uploaded somewhere.

If you enjoyed our fearless leader Dan Savage’s piece on the peril and pitfalls of gay adoption in this week’s pullout, I would like to direct you to my interview this week with Swedish glam-rock outfit The Ark. Alas, it runs in another publication, but said periodical is edited by former Stranger music editor Jennifer Maerz (who I saw last week in SF, and she sends her love and good wishes), so I don’t feel guilty linking to it.

As you’ll read, when gay adoption was a big issue in Sweden a few years back, The Ark recorded “Father To A Son” to get out the message that legislating who or what constituted a family was not okay with them. (Lead singer Ola Salo is openly bisexual, and in a relationship with a man.) Would that a big American artist would do the same for the US queer community. Or am I missing a landmark protest song somewhere? If so, please post an appropriate comment and “school” me.

As I listen to Aaron Spectre’s Life We Promote, a devastating and relentless mash of ragga-jungle, dubstep and all things fast and dirty and vaguely Jamaican-influenced, I’m reminded of a pattern I’ve noticed among the women in my life. None of them like dancehall, in any of its forms. Specifically, they don’t like the vocals. Something about the pitch, intonation and repetition seems to rub them the wrong way. They may dig on hip hop and drum and bass, but once anything vaguely “ragga” comes into frame they screw up their faces and politely ask me to put on something else.

What’s the deal? I’m sure it’s not universal — many a female has been known to hit up Bashment and so on — but in my experience the ragga-preciation gene seems to live somewhere on the Y chromosome. Granted, the vocals can often be violent and misogynistic, but they’re also mostly incomprehensible unless you’re familiar with the patois, and a lot of hip hop has the same literary and cultural bent anyway. I wonder if there are subtle gender differences in our auditory cortices that make the rough, nasal and octave-jumping delivery of ragga-type vocals sound as unpleasant to the female ear as pitiful, warbly singer/songwriter-type noises do to many males?

All of the tickets for Mass Line’s launch party (Blue Scholars, Common Market, Abyssinian Creole) at the Showbox have been sold.
This image, by Bootsy Holler, captures Common Market, which is rapper RA Scion and beat builder Sabzi. Seattle’s post-Mix-A-Lot underground scene has had several significant moments, but the present one, which is organized around by the Mass Line label, is certainly the biggest. Not many, if any, local hiphop acts have sold out the Show Box. It’s only a matter of time before this scene goes supernova.

Green Velvet

Following up from my last post about it, here’s the latest update on Decibel’s lineup, now with helpful artist URLs.

Green Velvet (Chicago) http://www.green-velvet.com
Alex Smoke (U.K.) http://www.somarecords.com/artists/alexsmoke
Dexter (Netherlands) http://www.klakson.nl
Bola (U.K.) http://www.skam.co.uk
Thomas Fehlmann: Dub Set (Germany) http://www.flowing.de
The Dead Texan (Belgium) http://brainwashed.com/sotl/deadtexan
Fax (Mexico) http://www.faxmusik.com
Telefon Tel Aviv (Chicago) http://www.telefontelaviv.com
Apparat (Germany) http://www.apparat.net
Taylor Deupree (New York) http://www.12k.com/taylor/bio.html
Funckarma (Netherlands) http://www.funckarma.com
Richard Chartier (Washington D.C.) http://www.3particles.com
Subtle (San Francisco) http://www.subtle6.com
Andreas Tilliander (Sweden) http://www.repeatle.com
Jeremy Ellis (Detroit) http://www.ubiquityrecords.com/jeremy_ellis.html
Mokira (Sweden) http://www.repeatle.com
Claude Vonstroke (San Francisco) http://www.dirtybirdrecords.com
Panoptica (Mexico) http://www.noarte.com
Kate Simko (Chicago) http://www.katesimko.com
Jacob London (Seattle) http://www.jacoblondon.com
Brett Johnson (U.S.) http://www.robot-karate.com
Latinsizer (Mexico) http://www.milrecords.com
Tim Xavier (New York) http://www.timxavier.com
Soultek (Chicago) http://www.force-tracks.net
Plankton Man (Los Angeles) http://www.planktonman.com
Lusine (Seattle) http://www.lusineweb.com
Davide Squillace (Spain) http://www.sketchrecs.com
Jerry Abstract (Seattle) http://www.fixelplix.com
Son Of Rose (Seattle) http://www.sonofrose.net
DJ Camea (New York) http://www.djcamea.com
Nordic Soul (Seattle) http://www.dbfestival.com
Jon McMillion (Seattle) http://www.orac.vu
Yann Novak (Seattle) http://www.yannnovak.com
Randy Jones (Seattle) http://www.orac.vu
SunTzu Sound (Seattle) http://www.suntzusound.com

One new facet of this year’s festival (happening Sept 14-17) is DB Optical. Here’s the press release copy:

Optical will showcase VJs, digital and physical art, film, and other image-driven creative works. The music events throughout the weekend will contain heavy visual counterparts culminating in a day-long multimedia fusion at the Broadway Performance Hall on Sunday, September 17.

Alright kids, time to tackle producers in the same tradition as we’ve done with drummers and bass players in earlier Line Out posts. However, this time I’d like to open the forum to those that we love and those we revile.

For example, you have to recognize the contributions of the bearded one, both as a visionary and revivalist. Let’s hope he maintains his resuscitation success rate when he finishes up recording with Metallica this year:

Conversely, I blame this man for ruining Metallica in the first place, along with countless other hard rock bands. He dumbs the sound down on every level—put the drums in a wind tunnel, strips the texture from guitar sounds, and does an overall bang-up job of neutering a band’s spirits. Not that you can’t blame Metallica for some of their own demise, but there’s no arguing that Bob Rock is very, very bad man (Boooooo! Hisssss!):

Now forget (if you can) about his disturbing court appearances and remember that this man has a production technique permanently associated with his name for a reason. Mr. Wall of Sound gave us plenty to be grateful for:

Of course, we can’t forget Mr. Cranky and Caustic. Aside from Nirvana, PJ Harvey, and his own projects Big Black and Rapeman, Steve Albini is the man responsible for bringing the gorgeous clatter of the Ex to my attention, something I’ll always appreciate:

Your turn, share your love and hate, dear readers.

Let’s discuss tonight’s James Lavelle show at Chop Suey shall we?

Back in the day, James Lavelle teamed up with DJ Shadow for the UNKLE collaboration, with the name being synonymous with a particular heavy-hitting, expansive sound. It was all very MoWax, and generally pretty good. They owned my attention for a few years, and MoWax is revered as far as dead labels go. There was something good, then it wasn’t there anymore as Lavelle and Shadow went their separate ways. Fair enough.

Then a few years ago Lavelle started to tour, but not so much as UNKLE, but under his own name. He was putting out mix CDs for Global Underground, which I imagine did well enough, but they weren’t exactly my thing, and I was fine with that. So when Lavelle would come through town, I’d write it off largely as something I didn’t need to check out (and I haven’t). Now there’s a newish UNKLE album (haven’t heard it, the time and place doesn’t really exist for me anymore, plus no Shadow), and Lavelle is touring, the poster mentioning his UNKLE past.

So here’s the dilemma, which hit a local email list months ago: Is this a James Lavelle show or an UNKLE show? With opener Krnl.Panic I lean toward the latter, but I’m just not sure. Has anyone heard word from the Interweb regarding what to expect at this show tonight? I’m not looking to drop my loot on something I’m not interested in.

Movie star Johnny Depp has brought me so much joy over the years, I can’t even start listing examples without tearing up. And cult rocker Gavin Friday is my all-time musical icon, pure and simple. So the notion of Johnny being responsible for Gavin - plus Nick Cave, Bryan Ferry, Van Dyke Parks, Lou Reed, Mary Margaret O’Hara, Lucinda Williams, and dozens more cool people - recording a double-CD of friggin’ sea chanties? Well, I’m flipping out with spasms of joy. Seriously, it looks like a cannonball hit my office, I was so happy to read that Gavin had recorded the raunchy “Baltimore Whores” for this soon-to-be-released collection… produced by eccentric genius Hal Willner.

“I slowly became fascinated by the idea of a contemporary reinterpretation of the sea chantey,” explains Gore Verbinski, director of the hotly-anticipated Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest. “I imagined the artists that I listen to and respect doing their take on this age-old music: the song of the sea.” Hey, it beats imagining what kind of bubble gum they might chew if cast back to sea-faring days. So amidst all the inevitable tie-in promotions—the McDonalds happy meals, the sunscreen, the facial hair cornrow kits—here is a promo of note: the compilation Rogues Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs & Chantys will be in stores on August 22, via the brilliant folks at ANTI- Records.

For the complete list of song titles, artists, and more details, straight from the mouths of real LA flacks, set course for the digital waters just beyond the cut:

E VERBINSKI, JOHNNY DEPP AND HAL WILLNER
JOIN FORCES WITH ANTI RECORDS FOR THE AUGUST 22 RELEASE:
“ROGUE’S GALLERY: PIRATE BALLADS, SEA SONGS & CHANTEYS”

BONO, STING, LOU REED, BRYAN FERRY, JOHN C. REILLY, RICHARD THOMPSON,
LOUDON WAINWRIGHT III, LUCINDA WILLIAMS ARE AMONG THE DIVERSE ARTISTS
ON THIS TRULY EXTRAORDINARY COLLECTION

“The ocean. It’s all about the vast blue that engulfs two thirds of the planet. The human being cast against that abyss creates an interesting bit of perspective. I think the sailors of the time were dancing with death, and these were their tunes. They resonate with people on some internal level that is not immediately obvious because it’s not in our memory, it’s in our blood. It operates on a cellular level. It’s what makes us feel so alone.”

—Gore Verbinski

Film director GORE VERBINSKI, actor JOHNNY DEPP and music producer HAL WILLNER have joined forces with ANTI RECORDS for the truly extraordinary two-CD set ROGUE’S GALLERY: PIRATE BALLADS, SEA SONGS & CHANTEYS. Due out August 22, the collection is filled with contemporary reinterpretations of songs from a genre of music that has all but disappeared. BONO, STING, NICK CAVE, BRYAN FERRY, LOU REED, LUCINDA WILLIAMS, LOUDON WAINWRIGHT III, RICHARD THOMPSON, GAVIN FRIDAY, VAN DYKE PARKS, ANDREA CORR and RUFUS WAINWRIGHT are only a few of the distinguished artists who turn in uncompromising and honest performances that illuminate the power of traditional sea songs.

The idea for ROGUE’S GALLERY originated when Verbinski and Depp were working on their second film together, the upcoming Pirates Of The Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest. “I slowly became fascinated by the idea of a contemporary reinterpretation of the sea chantey,” explains Verbinski. “I imagined the artists that I listen to and respect doing their take on this age-old music: the song of the sea.”

Verbinski then “described the project in detail to my old friend Brett Gurewitz (owner of Epitaph and Anti) who immediately understood its wondrous and strange potential. I also asked Johnny Depp if it might be something that he would like to be involved with. He has a great musical aesthetic, and as my partner in the films, his opinion is one I value. I’ve always believed Johnny is a musician first and the actor thing is just his day job. We met with Brett and put together a list of artists that we intended to go after, but were immediately confounded with the question: who would produce? Who would be mad enough to take this on?”

The project took shape when Hal Willner became “the captain of this vessel,” says Verbinski. “From that germinating withering pubic hair of an idea, Hal set sail and returned with what you hear today. He did everything.” Willner brought his knack for matching maverick musicians with extraordinary material to the project, as shown on his best-selling Disney tribute album Stay Awake and his acclaimed tributes to Kurt Weill, Charles Mingus, Nino Rota and others.

“When I was asked to do the album, I went into a world I didn’t know—which is what appealed to me,” says Willner. Immersing himself in antique bookstores, eBay, old record stores, and the Internet for hours and hours, Willner collected some 600 songs and then went about narrowing the song selection down for the album. In March 2006, the recordings began—and the process was joyously freewheeling.

“We were just crawling around, just seeing who was around,” he explains. “The Akron/Family was rehearsing, so we recorded them. And then we found Baby Gramps. And that’s kind of how we worked all over. We’d go up to London or Dublin or to New York and L.A., with just a sketch and one or two things planned. And then we got on the phone. Most of the time people just came into the studio. We picked a song, and they went for it. Basically there were a number of house bands: one in London, one in Dublin, one in New York, two separate ones in L.A., one in Seattle. We would camp and people would come in and leave or join in for the whole day. One day we did eight songs with eight different artists. Two of those artists didn’t know they were going to be in the studio that day. I just loved working this way because you wouldn’t do that with an artist normally.”

Asked about the Sting contribution “Blood Red Roses,” Willner says, “He was totally natural for this subject. He comes from Newcastle. He grew up hearing these things—it’s interesting how you hear a lot of little Beatles melodies in these songs. You know, Liverpool was a big port, and Australia and Maui and Cape Cod. Sting grew up with a lot of these songs, as did John C. Reilly. So he just came over to the studio, I gave him some songs and he just jumped into the process.”

60 songs were recorded for ROGUE’S GALLERY; 43 appear on the album. “Hopefully, there will be a volume two. I have half of it recorded already.” Willner says: “I came to age in the late sixties and early seventies of variety shows and concept records. I look at these records like you’re eating a full meal. There’s always your entrée, your vegetable that you don’t like but it’s good for you. And you want to cover it all. You need to establish the unknown, the famous, the obscure. Usually in the past I’ve always found that the secret weapons on these records are any new artists because you’re coming at it without expectations. And there’s other people that you’ve heard for years—but on that side it goes to another level.”

Willner is now anxious for others to discover the enchanting mystery of ROGUE’S GALLERY. “Obviously I want people to love it the way I do,” he says. “I would hope that it works on a level where they just want to go and close their eyes and have an experience—and come out of it the same way I came out of it, wanting to hear more. Put this record in your collection as a classic—that was Gore Verbinski and Johnny Depp’s idea.”

Proud of what all of the artists have brought to the album, Verbinski says that the “recordings are vibrant, inspired, rough hewn, and imperfect in that way that only perfection achieves.”

ROGUE’S GALLERY has a perfect home on Anti, the Epitaph Record-affiliated label known for releasing albums by classic renegade artists like Merle Haggard, Tom Waits and Nick Cave. Says Willner: “I think this was the original punk music in an odd way. You can hear it in songs like ‘Bully in the Alley’ and ‘A Drop of Nelson’s Blood.’ It’s there.”

The complete ROGUE’S GALLERY track listing is as follows:

CD 1
1. Cape Cod Girls - Baby Gramps
2. Mingulay Boat Song - Richard Thompson
3. My Son John - John C. Reilly
4. Fire Down Below - Nick Cave
5. Turkish Revelry - Loudon Wainwright III
6. Bully In The Alley - Three Pruned Men
7. The Cruel Ship’s Captain - Bryan Ferry
8. Dead Horse - Robin Holcomb
9. Spanish Ladies - Bill Frisell
10. High Barbary - Joseph Arthur
11. Haul Away Joe - Mark Anthony Thompson
12. Dan Dan - David Thomas
13. Blood Red Roses - Sting
14. Sally Brown - Teddy Thompson
15. Lowlands Away - Rufus Wainwright & Kate McGarrigle
16. Baltimore Whores - Gavin Friday
17. Rolling Sea - Eliza Carthy
18. The Mermaid - Martin Carthy & the UK Group
19. Haul On The Bowline - Bob Neuwirth
20. Dying Sailor to His Shipmates - Bono
21. Bonnie Portmore - Lucinda Williams
22. Shenandoah - Richard Greene & Jack Shit
23. The Cry Of Man - Mary Margaret O’Hara

CD 2
1. Boney - Jack Shit
2. Good Ship Venus - Loudon Wainwright III
3. Long Time Ago - White Magic
4. Pinery Boy - Nick Cave
5. Lowlands Low - Bryan Ferry w/Antony
6. One Spring Morning - Akron/Family
7. Hog Eye Man - Martin Carthy & family
8. The Fiddler/A Drop of Nelson’s Blood - Ricky Jay & Richard Greene
9. Caroline and Her Young Sailor Bold - Andrea Corr
10. Fathom The Bowl - John C. Reilly
11. Drunken Sailor - David Thomas
12. Farewell Nancy - Ed Harcourt
13. Hanging Johnny - Stan Ridgway
14. Old Man of The Sea - Baby Gramps
15. Greenland Whale Fisheries - Van Dyke Parks
16. Shallow Brown - Sting
17. The Grey Funnel Line - Jolie Holland
18. A Drop of Nelson’s Blood - Jarvis Cocker
19. Leave Her Johnny - Lou Reed
20. Little Boy Billy - Ralph Steadman

Came across this while listening to audio samples from each of the 801 12” singles released this week. (More on that later, when the experiment is complete.) It is, apparently, the ultimate sex track. Use the intro to fire up some scented candles and lead your partner to the boudoir, then dim the lights and throw down.

The Last Waltz is Martin Scorsese’s 1978 documentary about the Band’s final live performance as a quintet 30 years ago. It captures the Canadian-American roots-rock legends playing with a constellation of talented pals (Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Muddy Waters, Joni Mitchell, Dr. John, Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, Ringo Starr, Neil Diamond [?!], and others) at San Francisco’s Winterland. For some inexcusable reason, I am only just now watching this justifiably revered classic. Here are some thoughts about it.
* Levon Helm is a true badass, keeping funky time on the drums while shouting soulfully into the mic. Eat his dust, Phil Collins.
* The Band bassist Rick Danko is dorky as hell onstage and probably shouldn’t be allowed near a microphone. But dude probably got more ’tang than anybody in the group.
* The Band guitarist Robbie Robertson, according to Stranger freelancer Angela Garbes (who graciously let me view this flick on her TV), looks like Valerie Bertinelli. She nevertheless finds Robertson “hot.”
* Van Morrison quite possibly was inebriated during this show, as his clumsy kicks and general flailing around the stage seem to indicate. And who told him it was a good idea to don a glittery codpiece? Ah, we’ll always have Astral Weeks.
* Joni Mitchell is a luminous talent—and she has the smallest nose I’ve ever seen.
* It was cruel for Scorsese to fade out “Chest Fever” (my favorite Band song) after 30 seconds and cut to a backstage interview.
* Muddy Waters and the Band did a stirring rendition of “I’m a Man,” even though Muddy clearly was past his prime. And I just realized how funny it is that Muddy feels compelled to spell out M-A(child)-N in this song—as if otherwise we wouldn’t grasp the concept that he is indeed in possession of a Y chromosome.
* The Band bowed out at the right time—still near the peak of their powers. I only own Music from Big Pink and The Band, but after seeing this film, I will seek out more of their releases. They combined deft, versatile instrumental skills with amazing inter-band chemistry, deep songwriting chops, and soul to burn.
* The Band keyboardist Richard Manuel possessed a look of crazed intensity. Gazing at him in The Last Waltz, you could sense ex-post facto why he’d hanged himself.

Richard Manuel

Number one thought when having to travel to SoCal- “Get in and get out.” I hate LA. But in my lifelong struggle to find some good in all that’s shite, I finally discovered Fingerprints! The Long Beach record store has supplied its natives with some pretty rad, cutting edge music for over a decade now. And to my surprise, upon walking in, guess who I found behind the counter… Elvin Estela. That’s right… Nobody- the scruffy, Ubiquity/PlugResearch psych-head and occasional Dntel and Prefuse collaborator. I guess everyone’s gotta work. Their online presence is pretty all encompassing… Check it out

If Line Out allowed us to flag posts as “Trash” as we do on the Slog, this weblog of groupie exploits would definitely qualify. I can’t remember how I came across this in the past (perhaps it was when I was writing this article), but I stumbled upon it again last night and thought I should share with the rest of the class. Among the fascinating factoids to be had: Tom Araya from Slayer is uncircumsized; the dude from Extreme is “so small if somebody saw you sucking his dick it would look like you were smoking a joint;” Zach de la Rocha is “obsessed with playing with girls’ hair;” and Robin Zander is “comprable to Tommy Lee.” Enjoy.

Say what you will about the Arcade Fire (“Pitchfork made me do it!”), but I sorta love ‘em. And by “them,” I mean their song “Rebellion (Lies),” as I can’t say I’ve heard any other song of theirs. But “Rebellion”… Oh, it’s fucking brilliant. It’s also the most punk rock song on the face of the Earth.

Sure, there have been a number of tunes to bravely call out a number of things that deserve a good tounge lashing—George W., war, cheating significant others… But what does Arcade Fire take to task? Sleeping. That’s right, they call bullshit on sleeping. Check out the lyrics:

Sleeping is giving in, no matter what the time is. Sleeping is giving in, so lift those heavy eyelids.

People say that you’ll die
faster than without water.
But we know it’s just a lie,
scare your son, scare your daughter.

People say that your dreams
are the only things that save ya.
Come on baby in our dreams,
we can live our misbehavior.

Every time you close your eyes
Lies, Lies!

People try and hide the night
underneath the covers.
People try and hide the light
underneath the covers.

Come on hide your lovers
underneath the covers,
come on hide your lovers
underneath the covers.

Hidin’ from your brothers
underneath the covers,
come on hide your lovers
underneath the covers.

People say that you’ll die
faster than without water,
but we know it’s just a lie,
scare your son, scare your daughter,

Scare your son, scare your daughter.

Now here’s the sun, it’s alright! (Lies!)
Now here’s the moon, it’s alright! (Lies!)
Now here’s the sun, it’s alright! (Lies!)
Now here’s the moon it’s alright (Lies!)

But every time you close your eyes. (Lies!)

That’s fucking awesome! I totally agree, I hate sleeping too! I really do! I hate dreaming, I hate dreams, it’s all just so stupid and I wish our lame human bodies didn’t “need” it for survival. And it’s about time someone said so! So thank you, Arcade Fire, thank you.

Listen to “Rebellion (Lies)” here.

It’s like that. Radio 4 were some limp, cold-ass shit last night. No wonder Neumos was so cavernously empty, maybe everyone else caught these guys opening that Gang Of Four show that I missed.

I didn’t want to be too quick to give The DFA all the credit for these guys ever having an interesting song, but that seems to have been the case. Without James Murphy’s athletic percussion and Tim Goldsworthy’s reliably funky production, these guys were just a mediocre rock band (with the only exception being their multi-percussionist Bez-type guy, he was great). Even “Dance To The Underground” felt rushed and awkward, and not just because of the absurdity of trying to “electrify” only a dozen or so people in Neumos’ huge, empty showroom. No, the problem was that the song was being played by a rock band as a rock song and it simply failed in that context; that track exists to be played for a dance floor on a soundsystem and it just shouldn’t exist otherwise.

(I can’t help but think that there must’ve been a moment when Mr. Murphy was turning the knobs for these guys when he realized he didn’t need to work with other bands’ vocal hooks, that he could just make his own and it would be far more interesting.)

Frites, however, make the best french fries I’ve ever had, hands down. Try the poblano ranch or the adobo mayo. No show at Neumos will ever be a total disappointment as long as they have Anthony’s deep-friers on their side.

Bonnaroo: A roaring success.

Top of the Pops: Cancelled after 42 years on the air. Remember the Nirvana performance? Priceless.

The Replacements: Reissued and revered.

Guns n’ Roses: Pelted with pee!

Gene Simmons: In possession of very few friends. Gee, I wonder why.

Rufus Wainwright: So very, very gay.

If you’re like me you have a good internet connection, read the news on Pitchfork, and download the occasional MP3.

So you’ve probably also been listening to the new TV On The Radio record, Return To Cookie Mountain (apparently, not a working title) for the last few months and wondering, like me, why the hell it has yet to be released. The record, or at least the version of it that’s been leaked via file sharing networks, is their best work yet. It is simply a masterpiece.

I guess what this has me wondering is: what does it even mean to “release” an “album” these days? Does it occur when the music becomes publicly available or when the music is manufactured as a physical product? Does it undermine an artist or a label’s intent (or bottom line) when leaks occur? When a record is leaked so widely for so long and with such publicity what does it mean when the actual record comes out? Does anyone care?

Listen to it any way you can, but do support the band when the thing finally comes out and when they come through town again.

And I have an uncontrollable urge to grind them into fertilizer (assuming they’re biodegradable; I have my doubts). I gave a listen to Keane’s new disc, Under the Iron Sea, this afternoon. I must say, I cannot fathom the popularity of these annoyingly bland (yet bombastic), faux-profound U2/Coldplay biters. Keane are yet one more egregious example of what I call the New Wave of Vanilla (Snow Patrol, Doves, Travis, South, half of Astralwerks’ roster, etc.), whose members seem hell-bent on bleeding all excitement from rock. Well done, lads.

One Keane member said in the press sheet, “We wrote Under the Iron Sea because we needed a record that was going to make us feel alive again.” If I should be unfortunate enough to encounter you, Keane, you will know once more what it’s like to feel unalive.

photo: Common Market & Blue Scholars

In anticipation of the Capitol Hill Block Party (July 28-29), The Stranger has put up a site that serves as a clearinghouse for schedules, music samples by acts on the bill, news updates linked from Line Out, vendor info, and other useful functions to help you prepare and stoke your enthusiasm for this always-stimulating summer shindig.

Every KEXP savvy kid in Seattle must have been at the Crocodile Cafe to see Tapes n’ Tapes last night becase the place was packed! The room was stuffed most enjoyable to its overheating brim. This show is notable because it was the first show I have seen in, oh, forever to be blessed with opening acts that didn’t make me wish I’d missed the bus to the venue. Tapes n’ Tapes was fun (plus they’re from Minnesota, so what’s not to love?) and their second opener the Figurines was fast, loud and catchy, but I was really impressed by the very-bottom-of-the-lineup-first -opener Cold War Kids.

Bands these days are all so damn cool, their stage presence is blase and apathetic. Cold War Kids were not cool. The two guitarists shook, lunged and spastically flung themselves around the stage, drenched in sweat and crashing into eachother like they were rocking out in their parents garage. They didn’t have any annoying refined, self-concious image and man, did they have sound: Gritty folk-twinged lyrics, headbang-worthy guitar and a mean maraca. The crowd ATE. IT. UP.

Anyone who can get hipsters to do more than bob their heads is a solid band in my book.

Plus, after the concert there were a couple homeless guys soliciting for money with ironic signs (“Gigalo fo Hire”)… they must have known something cool was going on.

Anyway, Cold War Kids claim they’re coming back through Seattle in a few weeks (though their website doesn’t say where) so try to catch them then.

Brightblack Morning Light’s self-titled album comes out today on Matador. I’ve a feeling this release will be overlooked, and that would be a tragedy, so I’m bringing it to your attention here. (Note: BML are touring America, but they’re skipping Seattle. Boo. However, if you’re feeling ambitious and affluent, you can catch them opening for Os Mutantes July 24 at San Francisco’s Fillmore Auditorium.)

I’ve never done heroin, but Brightblack Morning Light’s music makes me imagine what being on H must feel like: a woozy, opiated brain-haze; a weightless, carefree, amorphous drift; a honey-blooded slumber. These Cali by way of Alabama and Kentucky dudes and dudettes have tapped into the same spooky yet blissed-out vein (sorry) that Spiritualized did on the immortal “Shine a Light” and that Dr. John nailed on much of Gris-Gris (get this now; thank me later).

The pace on Brightblack Morning Light is as laggard as that of a post-office employee’s movements, but the minimalist wah-wah guitar, spectral Rhodes, fuzzy bass tones, gloriously extended cymbal splashes, soothing wind chimes, and Nathan Shineywater’s Jason Pierce-like soul moan all coalesce into some of the best late-night come-down songs I’ve ever heard (and I’ve heard a lot). This 53-minute disc is the best aural tension-disperser I’ve experienced in a long while. I suggest you curl up with it ASAP.

Go to this show tonight at the Croc!

SOUND TEAM, SOMEONE STILL LOVES YOU BORIS YELTSIN
(Crocodile) Yes, the band’s name is Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin. Get over it. I hate when rock writers drone on about a strange band name while ignoring the music. See, I’ve wasted too many words already! SSLYBY’s new album, Broom, is a quaint pop record heavy on the melodies and free of ego and attitude. It’s slightly coy, endearingly geeky… basically, it sounds like what having a crush feels like—a little nervous, a little giddy, and ultimately really happy. Sound Team from Austin, Texas, are a nice match. Their rock isn’t quite as gentle as SSLYBY’s; it’s more about dance parties with Moog, piano, keyboard—all sorts of happy noise. MEGAN SELING

You can hear “House Fire,” from SSLYBY’s new album Broom, here.

In my morning mail comes an annoucement from a PR firm that tomorrow, eMusic will be making “Gets Mine,” the new 12-inch single from Stone’s Throw artist Oh No available as a free download. “This is the first in a series Stones Throw tracks that will be offered exclusively through eMusic, and very likely a bellwether for the DJ community,” writes the enthusiastic publicist.

Now, I love Stone’s Throw, what with Peanut Butter Wolf at the helm, and chief groove archeologist Egon by his side. But I have my reservations about the significance of such an event. First of all, iTunes has been making 12-inch singles from the BMG archives, with a variety of remixes new and old, availabe for several months. I’ll grant you Taylor Dayne is not as cool as Oh No (the Pointer Sisters are another matter entirely), but Lord knows, remixes aplenty are out there in the ether.

More importantly: If most download services make the music available via mp3 and other lo-fi formats, how useful is this stuff to club DJs? It’s one thing to play a mp3 file in an intimate bar setting, but on a bumping system in a big room? They usually sound like shit.

Do other DJs feel the same way? If you’re going to be “spinning” (or, more importantly, mixing) a 12-inch remix track, can you live with it in mp3 format, or would you rather have the option of downloading it as a time-consuming but better sounding WAV file? If you do the latter, are you just gonna burn it to CD and then delete the file or move it to a portable storage device ASAP? Is the use of mp3 files as a promotional tool for club DJs really that big an advancement, or would you rather still be serviced with white label vinyl and promo CDs for a while longer, until the audio quality on portable music media improves? Do laptop mixing tools allow you to bump up fidelity of these sort of files, thus rendering my question silly? (I admit, I don’t laptop or iPod DJ - never have, and probably won’t for a while - so I’m not tech-savvy about certain applications for DJs.) Discuss.

What I don’t know about jazz could fill The Stranger music section from now until the end of time. But I must say, I let out a loud “oh my God” of joy when I read the press release with the Earshot Jazz line-up for this fall, and saw that one of the shows features John Zorn’s Hemophiliac ensemble, which includes Ikue Mori (D.N.A. fans, can I get a “hell yeah!”?) and Mike “I was in a pop band but I’m also insane-in-the-good-way” Patton.

John Zorn + Ikue Mori + Mike Patton = I’m so there.

The Earshot press release in its entirety follows. Mea culpa if this is old news… I’ve been trapped in California wine country DJ-ing a wedding the last few days and am still getting back up to speed.

“SEATTLE’S MOST IMPORTANT ANNUAL JAZZ EVENT”(Down Beat), the Earshot Jazz Festival runs OCTOBER 20th to NOVEMBER 5th, 2006.

The 2006 Earshot Jazz Festival kicks off October 20th and continues through November 5th with more than 70 events in concert halls, clubs, and community centers all around the Seattle area.

Seattle’s major annual jazz festival, now in its 18th year, is presented by the non-profit jazz-support organization, Earshot Jazz. The festival brings important musicians from around the world and presents Seattle’s finest jazz artists in a world-class festival setting. Festival programs also include a series of rare jazz films, photo exhibits, panel discussions, and education programs.

Some of the artists planned for this year’s festival include pianist Matthew Shipp, NEA Jazz Master Jimmy Heath in residency with the Seattle Repertory Jazz Orchestra, brilliant young composer John Hollenbeck with the Claudia Quintet, bassist Drew Gress with the band from his recent “7 Black Butterflies” CD, and Vietnamese guitarist N’Guyen Le with his Tiger’s Tail band. The festival includes mainstream favorites Dr. Lonnie Smith with Fred Wesley and Cyrus Chestnut with Russell Malone, as well as ferocious improvisers like MacArthur winner Ken Vandermark with Peter Brotzmann and Matts Gustaffson. The iconoclast, John Zorn, will perform with his Hemophiliac ensemble, featuring laptopist Ikue Mori and rocker Mike Patton. Legendary jazz pioneer Andrew Hill brings his new quartet to town and pianist Manuel Valera will play his first concert here. Following tradition, Seattle’s top high school jazz bands will be featured in a main-stage concert with a nationally recognized guest artist who will also conduct workshops in Seattle schools.

Earshot is pleased to collaborate with STG in presenting the Wynton Marsalis Septet on October 21st at the Paramount Theater. Michele Rosewoman performs her Chamber Music America commissioned work with her group Quintessence. The festival includes groups from the Pacific Northwest region as well as many Seattle artists in festival performances. In a special project, Seattle trumpeter Jay Thomas combines forces with top jazz artists from Japan in several concerts around Washington State.

This year, Earshot Jazz will engage the Seattle jazz community in a special project called Jazz: The Second Century. The program consists of a series of residencies, performances, panels, lectures and focus groups that explore possibilities for jazz as it enters its second century as a cultural phenomenon.

Praised as “one of the best festivals in America” the Earshot Jazz Festival is eagerly anticipated by Seattle jazz fans. The event is respected for honoring the deep heritage of jazz while celebrating the leading edges of the art form. This year’s festival presents more than 200 artists in performance and educational settings, in several venues throughout the Seattle area. Many of the visiting artists will conduct workshops, panel discussions, and master classes in the area.

Tickets for the Earshot Jazz festival will be on sale in late August through Earshot Jazz, and various Seattle jazz spots. Complete concert information will be available at www.earshotjazz.org and at 206-547-9787.

West Chester, PA – Rex’s

Enter Santa Claus Tressel, patron mascot saint of The Tressels band. We walk in Rex’s to set up and there’s a beat up plastic Santa Claus lawn ornament on stage wearing a Spider Man mask.

I move to investigate further and am met by Mickey Reds. Mickey, plays tambourine and shaker in The Tressels. He tells me to, “Man up, and do a shot.” During The Tressels’ set, when there was not a beer in Mickey’s non shaker hand, there was a smoke. He brought it, hard, Ozzfest style.

Santa Claus Tressel was kicked, ashed on, and stepped on. But he remained - solid and stoic, with Christmas cheer. The women like Santa Claus Tressel. He commands respect, while at the same time, his gaze is tender and loving, in an inanimate kind of way. Mickey drank 9 beers and absolutely killed it on shakers and smokes.

Trent - out.

Head Like a Kite

Continuing the thread of this post from last week, I present the question to you, dear Line Out reader: Who are the best bass players working today? Or your favorites from the past? Note: All references to Flea will be swiftly deleted. Just kidding….sorta.

I will always hold Steve Harris in high regard. Even if you don’t have an affinity for vintage British metal, one listen to Iron Maiden’s “Running Free” should convince you of his worth:

Naturally, in that same league, I must include former Metallica bassist Cliff Burton. R.I.P.

Bernard Georges (middle, below) formerly of Throwing Muses and currently of 50 Ft Wave is a prime example of minimalist, tasteful players who speak volumes with their subtle approach:

And on the opposite end of the spectrum, we have No Means No’s Rob Wright and Minuteman Mike Watt , both revered for their dexterous, markedly more aggressive approach to the low end of the spectrum.

Aside from the admirable fact that she and bandmate/husband Rick Valentin run one the oldest operating podcasts on the net, I’ve always thought that Poster Children bassist Rose Marshack was a delightful spazz and an absolutely unimpeachable bassist.

This is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg; tell us who do you dig and why.

Praised by Larry Mizell Jr. in The Stranger, DJ Bles One (AKA Mash Hall) has bestowed upon us “Bitch I Look Good,” which is track of the week, and my anthem until further notice—not so much for the lyrics, which are somewhat dubious—but for the music, which is fraught with seductive suspense and features one of the most reliable, head-nodding beats ever. Note amazing Les Maledictus Sound sample. Who? Exactly. Note hilarious Anchorman sample. Note that Bles One—who’s kind of a big deal—will be opening for Prince Paul June 24 at Chop Suey [see our feature on Paul this Wednesday].

This may be the music-journalism gaffe of the year:

Bathroom stall police be warned: Grandmaster Flash’s “White Lines,” while billed as an anti-cocaine rap track, has actually endured over the years as a pro-snoot anthem of sorts for those who like to ride the white horse well into the night. Anyhoo, the seminal rapper’s upcoming appearance at Last Supper Club is rivaled in weirdness only by Too Short’s recent gig at Chop Suey, so don’t miss this. Last Supper Club, 10 p.m.

Dear Techno,

I’m starting to worry that you might never come back to me. At first, I tolerated you running around with those trashy new software synths or re-living your electro past with that bitchy ex of yours. I figured it was just a phase. But this is getting ridiculous. You may brag to your friends about me, but be honest with yourself: it’s been years since you’ve even touched my power button, much less caressed all my knobs and worked me like you used to.

There was a time when you’d go on and on about all the great noises I made for you — my sexy tom toms and open hi-hats, my sultry claps and snares, that kick drum I do that could hit you in just the right spot all night long. But now you think my midrange is too thick, my treble too tinny. You’d rather automate dozens of functions on those tramps on your laptop then the handful I can offer you.

Sure, I can see the appeal. That software is trim and efficient and it does exactly what you want it to do. It’s flexible and up for anything, I’m just solid and consistent. I can only give you eleven sounds, but it’ll give you anything you want and never complain. I demand work and careful attention, and they’re happy to let you play with their presets all night. And I’m too flabby to do the “minimal” thing that’s so popular these days — but maybe that crowd you run with now can’t remember what it was like to spend a whole night with me.

I might not understand why you’ve left me like this, but I am willing to forgive and forget if you’d just come back to me. I’ll be waiting here, as always, in the corner of your studio.

Yours eternally,
The Roland TR-909 Rhythm Composer

This is it for me. I’m off to an internship that bars all fraternizing with The Stranger. I now write my last Line Out post for the duration with a heavy tympanic membrane, closing with a relatively new release that I deem significant.

Son of Rose—Top Flight

Laptop composer Kamran Sadeghi’s newest release, Top Flight, appeared in Data Breaker here, but I’d like to put in a word, because Son of Rose creates some of my most beloved local music.

Sadeghi’s self-titled debut made him something of a Seattle monarch of minimalist electronic music, but minimal doesn’t seem like an appropriate description. At first listen, the components of his sound may seem delicate and sparse—arranged from the confines of a computer, but don’t be deceived. All command of faculties is soon lost to the music’s omniscient effect.

I loved the first album, but I’m finding myself more attuned to Top Flight, which sounds far more conceptual than the former. It’s like an algorithmic allegory of flight.

It seems strange that something so futuristic could provoke nostalgia, but I lived on or around air-force bases from the time I was born until I was 12, and during that whole period I was immersed in the hum of jet engines. There are aeronautic nuances captured on Top Flight that pretty much take me back to suspension in amniotic fluid.

Audio-aerodynamics are patterned throughout, like the hiss of rocket propulsion, the hypnotic revolutions of propellers, hollow metallic sounds, like pinging and riveting upon fuselages and other emanations from the gaping maws of airplane hangars. The evolution is full-spectrum, spanning from tremulous insectiform winging and the ephemeral whirring of cicadas to deep-space, nebular permutations and otherworldly hovering and pulsing.

All of these tones and textures are deftly synthesized and set on a trajectory toward the end track, “Sudden Departures,” the live, 25-minute odyssey that was Son of Rose’s 2005 Decibel Festival performance. Listen to it, and understand why Sadeghi has such a devoted local following.

Minimalist keyboardist/composer Harold Budd and Cocteau Twins guitarist Robin Guthrie played last night along with screenings of Maya Deren’s Meshes of an Afternoon and other non-linear short films that appeared to be completed before the psychedelic era to a rapt audience at the Egyptian.

While Budd/Guthrie’s music definitely achieved a spacious, vaporous, beauty and dewy pathos (the phrase “diaphanous ambience” kept popping into my head), it lacked significant variation from piece to piece. The players seemed not to be accompanying the images on screen so much as locking into each other’s headspaces and trading impressionistic dapples (Budd) and reflective spangles (Guthrie). Neither instrumentalist stretched beyond his well-known stylistic tics (as lovely as they are), resulting in music of a meditative grandeur that ultimately left this listener mildly underwhelmed.

Hey, wait a minute. Quoth Segal in a recent Line Out post:

…in a few years I may be ready to get an iPod…

Huh? Dave Segal, lifelong musoholic and enthusiastic promoter of all things techno, owns no digital music device? Well now I’m curious. What’s it gonna take to turn this:

…into this?

Denver, CO – Larimer Lounge

We played with The Duke Spirit - english rock action delivery. Singer Liela, she = part Debbie Harry, Bjork, & Axl Rose. Real real good. Look out. They came over from England to tour with Snow Patrol, but the tour was cancelled. Apparently all the guys in Snow Patrol got sick. Before that, Duke Spirit had their gear stolen in Portland at The Doug Fir Lounge. They left their van in a secured parking garage one night and it got broken into. The attendant assured them it was safe. An inside job.

Photo:Marlon Schaeffer

And so The Duke Spirit fall into an all too long and growing list of bands who have had their gear ripped off – Film School, Rob Dickinson of Catherine Wheel, The Decemberists.

I guess the people who steal gear from bands don’t realize that when they die, John Bonham, Tupac Shakur, & Sid Vicious will be waiting to make them slide down a waterfall of greased razors into a pool of lemon juice. Then, Mama Cass will make them eat 20 chum covered Big Macs and get into a shark tank with a hammer head, where their legs will be eaten quickly. Then Kurt Cobain will lift them out by robotic arm and drop them into a gigantic toaster. And lastly, when they are pleading for death - sliced, eaten, and burnt, Jim Morrison will make them watch a bass fishing show for the rest of time, with music by Brooks & Dunn. Sisyphus had it easy.

The Duke Spirit played Coachella and The Carson Daly Show in a couple days, so all is not bad.

Trent - out.

Head Like a Kite

The Mole

The third annual Decibel festival happens Sept 14-17. If you’re a producer who thinks he/she should be playing this electronic-music shindig or if you have suggestions for the selection committee (mine would be, to start with: the Mole, I.A. Bericochea, Frank Bretschneider, and NSI), go here and say your piece.

Tonight the Bend-It Festival kicks off its 2006 weekend with a free show in the parking lot next to Lifelong Aids Alliance at 1002 E Seneca. Last year’s show included a blazing hot set by The Gossip, and while tonight’s opening party lacks that level of star power it should still be a blast. Festivities start at 6pm with food and on-site styling courtesy of VAIN, and bands go on at 7.

Plus it’s FREE!

Tonight’s bands include:

Doomhawk
Mondo Trasho
Branda
Little Party and the Bad Business
Bobcats

Little Party & The Big Business are one of my favorite local underage bands right now. Fans of the sadly euthanized Dalmatians should enjoy their no-chops approach to F-U-N: drum machine breaks your face, keyboards dance on the pieces.

Like many of us youngins who live our teens through the very tail end of the ‘80s, I first heard the name Harold Budd attached to another three: Raymonde, Guthrie and Fraser (the Cocteau Twins). As a teenager obsessed with everything shoegazing, ethereal and gothic, I came across their 1986 collaborative work The Moon and the Melodies as I backtracked my way through the 4AD catalog. Although, it wasn’t quite a huge stylistic departure from the shimmering, “precious” qualities of the Cocteau Twins Victorialand or Treasure, Budd’s spacious pianos and synths did manage to align the group’s thick and treated sound with a much more minimalist aesthetic.

An already accomplished ambient/avant-garde composer, Budd not only found a new audience through his work with the Cocteau Twins, he also established a lasting relationship with Twin’s guitarist Robin Guthrie.

After hearing Guthrie and Budd’s recent collaboration on the soundtrack to Gregg Araki’s film Mysterious Skin (winner of the ‘05 SIFF Golden Space Needle Award), SIFF artistic director Carl Spence conceived Melodic Meshes – a live performance piece by Guthrie and Budd set to a collection of short, avant-garde and surreal films. Spence explains that the overall theme of the program is to look at how music and film intersect and collide and to bring divergent audiences together.

Reid O’Beirne, founder of Emerald Reels, curated the film showcase, which features Maya Deren’s classic dreamscape Meshes of the Afternoon, Bruce Baillie’s frantic meditations on Castro Street, as well as J.S. Watson, Jr. & Melville Webber’s unique interpretation of Fall of the House of Ushers. Check out Emerald Reels for a full list of the films.

With Guthrie residing in Paris and Budd in LA, it’s rare for the two to actually perform live together. Specifically commissioned for SIFF, it’s safe to say that tomorrow’s performance of Melodic Meshes will be a once in a lifetime event. Catch it tomorrow, June 17 at 7:00pm. You can visit the SIFF site for more details and ticket info.

One of the better-kept secrets on the Net is Pedro’s Broadcasting Basement, a continuous stream of tracks from the record collection of Laurent Garnier, the Best DJ In The World According To Me. It’s unmixed and pretty random — think 12-minute Afrofunk jams, followed by Inner City’s Good Life, followed by some DJ Shadow — but it beats the hell out of most proper radio stations.

When I was a teenager, I used to have a New Year’s Eve tradition with my other music nerd friends that involved compiling lists of our favorite musicians, broken down by role (i.e. best vocalist, bass player, guitarist and so forth). I recently found some of these old lists and aside from some glaring embarrassments (“Geoff Tate: best vocals!” Egads!), I was surprised by how many favorites remained steadfast (I still think Iron Maiden’s Steve Harris is a phenomenal bass player). The category with the most consistency was definitely drummers. There are some obvious stalwarts, such as dear Bonzo here:

And of course, beloved Mr. Moon:

Then there’s the man responsible for Blondie’s in-the-pocket backbeats:

As I got older, I discovered new percussionists to lavish praise upon, most notably Fugazi’s Brendan Canty and Unwound’s Sara Lund. Which drummers are you currently most impressed with?

Over in the I, Anonymous forum, a thoughtful citizen has posted a list of tips to help local bands from sucking. It’s not really right for I, Anonymous (the writer neither calls for anyone’s execution nor confesses to any crimes) and some of the tips are specious (done right, onstage banter is an art, and “fashion is for models”? Tell it to the New York Dolls, or Flavor Flav). Still the list’s worth sharing here in Line Out. Enjoy, discuss, improve…

The worst band in Seattle is subject to personal taste so I won’t sling any mud by naming names.

I will say that the worst bands are those that take themselves way too serious. This is rock and roll, so let’s have a good time and leave the posturing for the mirror.

Other pet peeves: Looking bored on stage/standing perfectly still. You are there to entertain not to bore the audience to death. If you stand onstage looking like you are painfully pushing out a constipated cheeseburger you ate three days ago then how do you think the audience feels? Have some fun, it will transfer to the audience and maybe, just maybe they will move a little (highly unlikely in Seattle).

If I go to a show and no one on stage sweats I want my money back. You get 30 minutes up there, rock the fuck out, make a fool of yourself and most importantly sweat your balls off. It feels good to walk off stage knowing you just laid it out there and have nothing left.

Too much fucking tuning! Guitarists/Bassists listen up! A tuning pedal costs maybe $60 used and trust me it will save us all from hearing you tune your guitar for 5 minutes between each song.

Talking between songs. Is this a Q&A session? Get back to playing music. Please, do not tell jokes. You are not a comedian and even worse, not funny. That nervous laughter you hear? It’s the audience dying a little inside.

Hecklers? Best way to shut a heckler up is to not allow them to be heard. You have the mic and a giant PA behind you, not too mention drums, bass, guitar etc. Drown those fuckers out.

Fashion is for models. Leave your little sisters pants and eye make up at home. You don’t have to dress like a homeless junkie, but let’s leave the ironic hipster outfits to the coke heads at the CHA CHA.

Broke a string? Ruh-roh. How about having a back up guitar ready to roll? Nothing kills the momentum of a set like having to sit and wait for 10 minutes while your guitarist changes a broken string.

Have fun, be safe and by all means rock the fuck out you posers.

There is more Eluvium to be unearthed. I recently wrote of Eluvium’s graceful drones after seeing Matthew Cooper’s performance at Neumo’s, but last night I was handed his new 4-track EP, When I Live by The Garden and The Sea (Temporary Residence Ltd.).

The new EP is something of an extension of his previous Talk Amongst The Trees, with similarly whirling guitars, subtle bells ringing endlessly into permeating echo effects and organ-like synths that course methodically in broad aurora-like strokes, diffusing only to appear again in another aural hue and location.

There is a greater impression of nature from this release. The first track features insistent piano chords, like spades being driven into hard-packed soil, engulfed in guitar feedback. And maybe it’s also the spacious synth. It reminds me of the Enoesque original soundtrack from “Never Cry Wolf.” Forgive me if I go off on my favorite childhood film, but there’s a scene at the end, after the main character has survived remote Alaskan seasons living the life of a pack of wolves he was sent to study and he’s walking across the tundra, touched by the cruel irreconcilability between being rooted in the wild and being of an exploitive modern mankind. He’s lost his sense of belonging to society and its superficial survival tactics. Eluvium’s music resonates heavily with that sense of retreat and of belongingness to something other.

And that brings me to a very strange, if not insane film sample on the second track. It’s a frenetic monologue from the 1989 comedy-horror, “The ‘Burbs,” in which Tom Hanks screams in his trademark yowl: “We’re the lunatics. Us. It’s not them. It’s us.” Oblique social commentary? I’m not sold on the sample—I find Hanks’ voice very grating, but it’s just as well, because it’s quickly enveloped by the chillingly subdued screeching of guitars and quiet synth.

Cooper will have a new full-length release coming out in spring of 2007. It’s said to be “a new phase.” Everything to date has been a diamond in the rough, so I’m excited to see how the new album refines, if not totally redefines Eluvium’s priceless carbon beauty.

I just received word that Neumo’s booking agent (and Sealed With a Kiss promoter) Jason Lajeunesse, Chop Suey booking agent Steven Severin, and Neumo’s bar manager Mike Meckling have bought co-owner Marcus Charles out of his share of the Capitol Hill music venue. I’ll post more details as they become available; look for a full report in next week’s Rocka Rolla column.

Marky Ramone, drummer for the Ramones, has come to the Northwest for two shows this week. He performs tonight at Studio Seven, and tomorrow night at Hell’s Kitchen in Tacoma. The deal is, he’s going to perform 30 Ramones’ songs with local outfit the Jet City Fix filling in as his band.

Now uh… I love the Ramones. I’m not a fanatic by any means, the band did much of their greatest work before I was born, after all. But still. This feels weird to me. Really weird.

What are your thoughts? Is anyone planning on going to either show? Why or why not?

Beatport Digital Download Network is becoming one of the most popular retail sites for digital sales of electronic music. Its owner Tom Hoch [left in the photo] recently appeared on a panel at Mutek titled “Records… Dead?” He had some interesting stats to pass along about who shops at Beatport: 95 percent of the customers are DJs and 98 percent are male.

I’ve never bought anything from Beatport, but it does seem like a very cool resource and many of the world’s top DJs score their goods from it. My questions for you: what do you think of Beatport’s selection and navigability, and do you enjoy shopping there? Benefits? Flaws? Spill your guts.

Personally, I find the track samples to be too much of a tease, but I understand the need to keep them brief. Who knows, in a few years I may be ready to get an iPod (or whatever replaces it as the portable player), and if I do, I’ll probably be using a cyber shop like Beatport to help fill it up.

UPDATE: I just received this press release. (Beatport has a publicist now? That surely is a true indicator of success.)

With the latest version 3.0 expected to launch this Summer, expect more user friendly additions to the site, that enhance the site’s capabilities to make it even easier for the beat shopper to get more out of their experience.

Their latest tool, the weekly Beatport Podcast, presents to the mainstream and dance audiences the newest releases available at Beatport in a sharply presented mix put together by Beatport. This is an enhanced podcast, allowing listeners to hear a track they must have, click and buy it right from the podcast redirecting them to Beatport’s shop – giving the advantage to listeners to hear it in the mix and purchase it to then play it at their gig that night.

This year’s SIFF has boasted a pretty killer soundtrack with films featuring the music of Devo, the Pixies, the Police, Leonard Cohen, Harry Nilsson, Sigur Rós, and Bjork. Tonight at Neumo’s, local bands celebrate the remarkable collection by playing some of their favorite tunes featured in the film festival. Those on board include Sean Nelson & His Mortal Enemies, Carrie Akre with Dave Dederer of the Presidents of the USA, the Girls, “Awesome,” the Pale Pacific, Razrez, Go Like Hell, Key Note Speaker, Mountain Con, and Trespassers William. So if it’s a rock show you want, I can’t think of a better way to spend this Thursday night.

Tickets cost $6 and doors open at 8 pm.

Someone please book Ame for Seattle (or Portland, I’ll roadtrip it). I don’t care if it’s Decibel, Perfect Hit, the Wooden Octopus Skull Festival, or someone who just wants DJs playing in their backyard, you book Ame, and I will be there.

Arriving to the venue around 2am, Ame was already on stage entertaining a packed dancefloor. He shifted subtly between house and techno (micro & minimal if you really want the details), but it wasn’t so much about genre as creating a mood, riding the intersections in some musical Venn diagram. There were clicks, beeps, and other little details to keep your chin-stroking attention, but more than enough thump to keep the dancefloor going. While a couple of mixes were less than flawless, the set was impressive, and just what one would expect after the album.

Rolando closed out the night with (*gasp*) a set of Detroit techno. Taking over from Ame, he took a half hour to pick up the tempo and intensity, increasing it once again about an hour into his set. His set included “all the hits” from Underground Resistance alongside some other Detroit classics. I also realized that Kerri Chandler’s “Bar a Thym” is the official track that anyone can play, fitting into this set as well as it has in many others. I’ve heard that track everywhere, and if it weren’t so good I’d long since have grown annoyed by it. The crowd never thinned as the night went along (no crowd-stasis here), giving constant praise through the set’s closing track, Rolando’s (as Aztec Mystic) own “Jaguar.”

Time for Sonar. And Stewart Walker later tonight.

I went to a couple of events for the Wooden Octopus Skull Festival last year, and enjoyed myself far more than I thought I would. I couldn’t describe most of what I was hearing, and often couldn’t tell if I even liked it, but it was something different, and that alone was worth the price of admission. It doesn’t look like this info has been posted yet about this year’s edition, so here goes the confirmed lineup. Most of these names aren’t familiar to me, but I’m excited about the event all the same.

PsychForm and Enterruption & the Electric Heavyland Present:
the Wooden Octopus Skull Experimental Musick Pfestival
Thur Sept 7 - Sun Sept 10 2006 Seattle WA
ALL AGES!

hosted by Consolidated Works

Thursday Sept 7:
WOSpF presents the New Japanese Music Festival:
Acid Mother’s Temple SWR (tsuyama/yoshida/kawabata)
Ruins Alone (yoshida)
Akaten (tsuyama/yoshida)
Zubi Zuva X (tsuyama/yoshida/kawabata)
Zoffy (tsuyama/kawabata)
Seikazoku (tsuyama/yoshida/kawabata)
Shrinp Wark (yoshida/kawabata)
(tsuyama atsushi/yoshida tatsuya/kawabata makoto)

Friday Sept 8:
Ladies Night aka Girls RULE!, Boys Drool :
16 Bitch Pile-Up (total spazz attack)
M.V.Carbon (from Metalux)
Leticia Castaneda (experimental composition manipulations)
Dialing In (prepared piano/tape decay drones)
Friends Forever (3 girls, a van, fireworks and more)
Midmight (from Hans Grusel’s Krankenkabinet)
Tovah Olson (from Dead Machines and Wooden Wand & the Vanishing Voice)
Replicock (Angie from Sharkiface/Tarantism, Rock’n’Roll Jackie of Smegma)

Saturday Sept 9:
Chrystal Belle Scrodd (Diana Rogerson and Steven Stapleton aka Nurse With Wound, 1st ever performance in 21 years!!)
Amber Asylum (surrealist orchestral metal)
Irr.App.(ext.) (DADA)
Waldteufel (German ritual folk from Markus Wolff of Crash Worship ADRV)
Soriah (ritual folk and throat singing)

Sunday Sept 10:
Wolf Eyes (the dudes of US noise)
Double Leopards (comfortable darkness)
Dead Machines (dead machines)
D.Yellow Swans (unruly, always moving)
Hive Mind (“cosmic tales of bass heavy sheets of molten alien sound cut with x-ray pirate eyes”)
Cherry Point (the bloody horror of it all)

Films all weekend by Sublime Frequencies and the JiRCS

“Villains!” I shrieked, “Dissemble no more. I admit the deed — tear up the planks! Here, here! — It is the beating of his hideous heart.” – Tell Tale Heart

Charlottesville, VA. – Star Hill

Van ears sift - Wolf Eyes, Rachel’s, and Matmos - The Civil War.

In 1826, Edgar Allan Poe attended The University of Virginia. Poe’s room, number 13 on the West Range, is maintained by the Raven Society as a shrine to its former occupant. A glass door allows people to look inside and supposedly see the sparse furnishings as they were when Poe was there. Well, Poe had to leave the University of Virginia because he couldn’t afford it. The University didn’t want him. Now, the room where he lived is sanctified and on display. Now, they claim him and name things after him. Where was all their support and reverence for him back in the day? Seems like a crock to me.

The University of Virginia turned Poe away, and he went on to become one of the greatest writers of all time. How you like him now?

Poe writes:

“Ye who read are still among the living; but I who write shall have long since gone my way into the region of shadows. For indeed strange things shall happen, and secret things be known, and many centuries shall pass away, ere these memorials be seen of those who find much to ponder upon in the characters here graven with a stylus of iron.”

That night I dreamt Poe was wounded during the Civil War at the Battle of Bull Run. I sat by his hospital bed. A musket ball had ripped through Poe’s leg. In the cramped sweated room were 12 other dying men. Gnats lapped wounds unswatted. Pre-anesthesia. A nurse put a piece of leather in Poe’s mouth and pled with him to bight down. A doctor sawed off his leg. Poe shrieked – in shock. That signature gangrene shriek. Moonshine didn’t dull. A bead of sweat lingered off the sweet nurse’s arm and dropped directly into Poe’s blankened eye, blurring the sight of his own bone. Her voice coated him. And for that moment, Poe felt nothing at all.

Trent - out.

Head Like a Kite

Photo’s: Dan Tyler.

Eye Button: Yoshimi Designs

Musket rifles: Adam Dieter

My favorite female techno DJ right now is Magda (Magdalena Chojnacka), who is part of the minimalist supergroup Run Stop Restore with Marc Houle and Troy Pierce, as well as a crucial figure in Richie Hawtin’s M-nus Records empire. She has a new mix titled She’s a Dancing Machine due out August 8, and it looks like a tasty smorgasbord of minimal techno with contributions from the genre’s most trustworthy talents. You may notice the frequent appearance of Seattle producer Bruno Pronsato (AKA Steven Ford); he has become one of Magda’s favorite track makers. (Note that “My Little Pony” is actually by Caro; looks like Magda included the Bruno remix of it.)

Press release after the jump.

MAGDA

She’s a Dancing Machine

Evolution is a fuzzy thing when it comes to electronic dance music, especially when left in the hands of certain DJ’s.
From experimental to disco to pop to house and everything in between and to come, the mutation is the now and new.
Known for mutations of her own, MAGDA, the Berlin resident DJ and producer, brings her influences and creations full
circle in this runway soundtrack act SHE’S A DANCING MACHINE. Through over thirty tracks of classic and fresh as hell
dance burners, the selection and style is reflective yet reactive to what “minimal” music and mix albums ought to create.
From robotic hustles to disco house sprinkler moves and electro-tech windmills, Magda turns the years back to phuture.

Equal parts perspiration and inspiration, SHE’S A DANCING MACHINE delivers with micro-edits, custom loops and lofty
effects, born out of her DJ ascension from beating the bits out of her Final Scratch in clubs. The mix has the range you’d
expect with top shelf artists included such as Metro Area, Ricardo Villalobos, Marc Houle and Robert Babicz and sets up
some surprises from decades past by dropping in Larry Heard and Portion Control. Amongst personal favorites from The
Persuader (Svek’s Jesper Dahlbäck) she’s not afraid to loop in her own productions from Minus and her new label (along
with Marc Houle and Troy Pierce), Items & Things.

SHE’S A DANCING MACHINE paints the experience and attitude from a night with Magda in control at the decks. Since
the turn of the millennium she’s been building a steady fan base throughout Europe, North America and Japan with a few
residencies built by demand, charming us along the way with a smile. Magda has taken the chosen not given path of a
DJ with a mission- searching, finding and carving her own path from being a slave to the rhythm.

RELEASE INFORMATION
Artist/Title: MAGDA | ‘She’s a Dancing Machine’
Matrix: MINUS43CD
Label: MINUS
Formats: CD: compact disc, single disc. dj mix- tracklisting below
CD Distribution: MDM+friends for the World, excluding Canada (Fusion III) & the US (Forced Exposure)
Release Date: August 4th 2006
SHE’S A DANCING MACHINE tracklisting (in order of appearance)
duoteque - lola
magda - black leather wonder
ricardo villalobos - adgam
jpls - twilite 4
ivo deutschmann - spectrometer
vivianne projects - strangers with canada
bruno pronsato - wuorinen
lordy - the watchtower (stevie kotey kosmik dub)
tractile - the lost beach
marc houle - chuck gaydicaca
louderbach - grace (anxiety)
robert babicz - battlestar
niederflur - drehbrücke
matt john - i.o.
marc houle - suces mes graines
tractile - time vandal
metro area - honey circuit
troy pierce - dark pearl
ryan crosson - artists have bad haircuts
magda - oblivicleas
the persuader - central bron
marc houle - analog road
run stop restore - speeder 64
jpls - z program (mark henning remix)
louderbach - reflected
marc houle - boat
marc houle - black jack 13
konrad black - coma couch surfing
jpls - red 20
plastikman - slow poke (twilight zone edit)
magda - doctor secret tooth
larry heard - amnesia
troy pierce - 25 bitches (berg nixon’s zig zag mix)
donnacha costello - rusty sticks
glimpse - bodyslip julia
marc houle - stacks and stacks
marc houle - edamame
slacknoise - discover the active crash hiss
niederflur - kalk-kapelle
marc houle - drumathon
tractile - poisoned with words
pantytec - maybe
niederflur - porz-wahn
bruno pronsato - open your eyes
gaiser - breathe here
vivianne projects - chicken bone charm bracelet
der dritte raum - krank
bruno pronsato - my little pony
marc houle - thirds in trees
dinky - home on a sunday
marc houle - raking it
portion control - elektrotechnik
i.a. bericochea - r2
ryan crosson - gotham road
onur ozer - lotus
from within - lost
phage and daniel dreier - beeswax
plastikman - ekko
tractile - warning light
plastikman - 72
tractile - ardorant
slacknoise - she’s a dancing machine
tractile - paper tiger
magda - staring contest (unreleased version)
damian schwarz - RyF2
marc houle - avon
from within - snake charmer
heartthrob - lunar park
bruno pronsato - the river
dj koze - dangernugget
disco d - beat it

Is it true that Robert DeNiro has a thing for sisters? If that’s the case, then the mystery is removed from the reason why he is producing a biopic of the rapper Missy Elliott.

So I’m sitting in my apartment here in Barcelona, just getting ready to head out for the evening’s festivities. My laptop shows that it’s about 4:30pm as I type this, but here it’s 1:30am, and it’s just now time to get ready. Clubs run on a different schedule here, and since it gives you time for a disco nap, I can’t complain.

I’m here for the next few days to attend my first Sonar festival. The lineup is completely ridiculous, but I’m probably most excited about Jeff Mills, who I’ve never seen live, and .tape., since I have the feeling they don’t get to the US often. There’s also DJ Shadow, who will be showing off his new hyphy incarnation, and Tiga, who I’ve been excited about seeing ever since his remix of Nelly’s “Hot in Herre” (better than the original, IMHO, plus the video had puppets!).

Thus far the adventures have included a lot of getting acclimated to the environment and not much in the way of music. A few nights ago my travel companions and I made our way to a club on the way home, which was only of interest since it was free. It was worth free, but not much more. Eurodance at its finest, with a crowd that averaged much younger than ourselves. We managed to stick around for an hour or so before needing to make an exit in the name of quality once a bastardized version of “Tainted Love” started.

More posts as “borrowed” Internet allows. Now it’s off to see the great double-bill of Âme and Rolando (a.k.a. the Aztec Mystic).

I don’t know why the Wakefields didn’t tell me about their CD release party until a few days ago. Maybe they didn’t want me to publicize it. Well, too bad! This fine Emerald City honky-tonk act is having a FREE release party for their long-overdue official full-length CD, this Thursday evening, June 15, at the Little Red Hen over in Green Lake. Also on the bill are the Memphis Radio Kings. Both bands have been loved-up in “Border Radio” (here and here), and you should take advantage of this chance to enjoy ‘em together on the same bill… even if those darned Wakefields didn’t let me know about it in time to spotlight the show in this week’s paper. Phooey on you—or is my support something you’re ashamed of?

If you’re a lover of classical music, you’ve probably been pouring one out for György Ligeti, who passed away on Monday. I’m currently in sackcloth—but not for long. I’ve recently been cheered by this little gem being passed around the blögôsphère (that’s the blog world of arts and culture critics)—Ligeti’s Poème Symphonique for 100 Metronomes (don’t mind the German/French-language intro).

Ugh. Really? Real. Ly? What I love so much about how this piece works out is that it moves from a state of stillness and equanimity to one of interlocking chaos and then back to its original state. And it is especially precious that all of this is set in motion by a single, simple creative act (unseen) and brought again to the eschaton of samehood by a simple and pervasive natural act (also unseen). How joyful those final moments of silent beating before the last metronome capitulates!

From the Wikipedia article on the piece:

The piece requires two “performers”, and all of their efforts take place without the audience present. Each of the hundred metronomes is set up on the performance platform, and they are all then wound to their maximum extent and set to different speeds. Once they are all fully wound they are all started as simultaneously as possible. The performers then leave. The audience is then admitted, and take their places while the metronomes are all ticking. As the metronomes winds down one after another and stop, periodicity become noticeable in the sound, and individual metronomes can be more clearly made out. The piece typically ends with just one metronome ticking alone for a few beats.

Man, oh man, the internet is always serving! And if you’ve not had your fill, here’s the score. Score!

Slayer: Preparing to break their five year silence. That’s their characteristically life-affirming art work above.

Rolling Stone Ron Wood: Heading back to rehab, again.

Queer dance music artist Aviance: Attacked viciously by bigots in the East Village.

Prince: Recognized as a visionary artist.

I-Pod laborers: Working under slave-like conditions?

News of the “indie-rock revolution”: Making it into a Congressional newspaper, thanks to Jenny Toomey.

Last night’s edition of Oscillate (every Tuesday @ the Baltic Room) was one of their best in a while.

Patrick (aka Electrosect), the man behind Oscillate, takes some serious risks booking touring electronic artists. Seattle doesn’t seem to sustain the same appetite for electronic/dance music as neighboring Portland or Vancouver, B.C. (Decibel Fest being the exception). The crowd wasn’t huge last night, but it was certainly enthusiastic.

Solvent went on second (I thought he’d be headlining) and brought it: sweeping analog synths, airtight beats, live vocoder-ed vocals. But something was missing…

A couple songs into the set, Patrick and AC Lewis of Sun Tzu Sound brought a huge ladder out to the dance floor. I was thinking they were about to pull some Tim Harrington shit, but in fact AC just needed to scale the wall spider-man style to turn on the subs. Ah, that’s what was missing! The bass hit and within two beats the dance floor went off, a true testament to the power of the kick drum.

Solvent played his ostensible hits: “Think Like Us”, “My Radio” (the high point of his set-that song makes me giddy), and his remix of Adult.’s “Don’t You Stop” featuring disembodied vocals form Nicola Kuperas. It was a great set.

Ectomorph was kind of a let down after Solvent’s gleeful synth-pop. Their sound was low and muddy, and despite having a live vocalist, they weren’t much fun to watch. Maybe they turned it around just after I left (I noticed they were picking up that SH-101)…

That’s right, today Mayor Greg Nickels announced that the Office of Arts & Cultural Affairs is accepting nominations for the fifth annual Mayor’s Award for Excellence in Hip Hop. According to the official press release:

“The award acknowledges and honors innovative performance, community service and entrepreneurial achievement by locally based members of the hip-hop community whose work has had significant impact in Seattle. Nominations are open to the public and all are invited to nominate a favorite performer (solo/group), B-boys/B-girls, visual artist, DJ, MC, media/journalist, publication, promoter, record label, Hip Hop Pioneer or Unsung Hero. An independent panel will determine the categories and number of award recipients based on the nominations received.”

Applications are due by Friday Aug 4, and can be found here.

Philadelphia quintet Man Man play novelty music that’s so old-fashioned it sounds futuristic. Opening for Fiery Furnaces last night at Neumo’s and clad all in white sports attire, these five multi-instrumentalists purveyed an athletic brand of avant-garde circus music that mocks logic and decorum (think Mr. Bungle but with way more facial hair and hyperkinetic stage maneuvers). Unpredictability is Man Man’s métier. They swerve between rambunctious, klezmerized prog-punk and maudlin, beerhall sing-alongs with a WTF? strategy that nonetheless spurs wildly appreciative crowd reactions. Vocals shift from absurdly romantic crooning to electroshock-therapy yowls to robust, barbershop-quartet hamming. On some songs, everyone plays percussion (including pots and xylophones). On others, everyone blows on miniature novelty-shop horns, and it sounds incredibly like Master Musicians of Jajouka at a drunken wedding reception. Definitely an acquired taste, Man Man’s music shows up most indie rock as a pantomime of rote, polite mannerisms eked out by timid conformists. Man Man are wild to be born.

As Rhino continues to repackage the entire WEA catalog as fast as it can (hello, what happened to the expanded B-52’s titles? I want a bigger, better Mesopotamia, and I want it now!), August 22 sees the release of a new Stereolab “best of,” Serene Velocity. A single disc hardly seems sufficient for even a beginner’s guide to Stereolab, but what I’m excited about are the liner notes, penned by former Seattle denizen, occasional Stranger contributor, and YETI editor-in-chief Mike McGonigal! Whoo-hoo! While you’re at it, pre-order a copy of Mike’s forthcoming literary homage to Loveless by My Bloody Valentine (part of the Continuum Books 33 1/3 series, and one allegedly held up by as many setbacks as anything else affiliated with Kevin Shields), in stores Sept. 15, 2006. Also due later this year, In Love With Those Times, an anthology of selections from Mike’s previous fanzine, the notorious Chemical Imbalance.

Press release and track listing for the Stereolab comp is below the cut:

RHINO ACHIEVES SERENE VELOCITY

A Stereolab Anthology Features a Decade of Noise-Pop Perfection
Taken From the Influential English Band’s Seven Studio Albums with Elektra

Available August 22 From Rhino Records

LOS ANGELES - Stereolab exposed a generation of listeners to an experimental musical formula that synthesized sophisticated pop melodies and seditious lyricism with vintage electronic noise and blissed-out grooves to create an infectious strain of space-age lounge-pop. Rhino Records spreads the beautiful disease with a retrospective of the English group’s decade with Elektra. Released as a CD, vinyl album, and digital download, SERENE VELOCITY - A STEREOLAB ANTHOLOGY is available August 22 from regular/digital retail outlets and www.rhino.com for a suggested list price of $18.98 for the CD, $19.98 for vinyl, and $13.99 for the digital release.

Featuring 16 tracks, SERENE VELOCITY includes a pair of songs released as 7” singles in addition to selections recorded between 1993 and 2004 that appeared originally on Stereolab’s seven groundbreaking Elektra studio
albums. Stereolab’s Tim Gane remastered all the tracks at Abbey Road Studios. The digital version comes with a special exclusive bonus: an interview with Tim Gane and Laetitia Sadier about the album.

Arranged chronologically, the anthology begins with “Crest,” “French Disko” and the 7” version of “Jenny Ondioline Part 1”-three songs recorded in 1993, the year of Stereolab’s major label debut, Transient Random-Noise
Bursts With Announcements. SERENE VELOCITY follows the evolution of the band’s sound with “Ping Pong” and the 7” version of “Wow And Flutter”-songs from 1994’s Mars Audiac Quintet, which included the addition of horn and string sections by the High Llamas’ Sean O’Hagan.

A trio of songs-“Cybele’s Reverie,” “Percolator,” and “Metronomic Underground”-are featured from Stereolab’s critically acclaimed 1996 album Emperor Tomato Ketchup, plus “Brakhage” and “Miss Modular” from 1997’s Dots
And Loops.

SERENE VELOCITY includes “Infinity Girl” and “Come And Play In The Milky Night” from Cobra And Phases Group Play Voltage In The Milky Night, the band’s 1999 release, which was co-produced by Chicago avant-garde noise
mavens-John McEntire of Tortoise and Jim O’Rourke. The compilation closes with four tracks from Stereolab’s last two Elektra albums-2001’s Sound-Dust and 2004’s Margerine Eclipse-including “Sudden Stars.” In the album’s liner
notes, Mike McGonigal suggests, “It might be best to make sure you’re sitting down before listening,” to “…Sudden Stars.” That’s good advice for the entire album.

Stereolab formed in 1991 when former McCarthy frontman Tim Gane (guitar, keyboards) began writing songs with his partner, Laetitia Sadier (vocals, trombone, keyboards, guitar). After lineups that included members of the Chills and Faith Healers, the membership had solidified by the mid-’90s with Mary Hansen (keyboards, vocals), Morgane Lhote (organ, guitar, keyboards), and Andrew Ramsay (drums).

SERENE VELOCITY - A STEREOLAB ANTHOLOGY
Track Listing

1. “Jenny Ondioline (Part 1)” - 7” version
2. “Crest”
3. “French Disko”
4. “Ping Pong”
5. “Wow And Flutter” - 7” version
6. “Cybele’s Reverie”
7. “Metronomic Underground”
8. “Percolator”
9. “Brakhage”
10. “Miss Modular”
11. “Infinity Girl”
12. “Come And Play In The Milky Night”
13. “Space Moth”
14. “Double Rocker”
15. “Vonal Declosion”
16. “…Sudden Stars”

Last night’s Bartenders’ Ball, the annual promotional party thrown by the Irish whiskey vendor that is fueled by free booze and typically packed with a who’s who of music and bar industry types (notably absent this year), was a big snooze for the most part (girls dancing in cages with the Jameson logo emblazoned across their questionably buoyant boobs? Yawn. People barking their drink orders at the staff AND not tipping? Rude!), but the Eagles of Death Metal absolutely slayed. I’d never had the pleasure of watching them sweat and slice their way through a set of their surgically precise, classic hard rock—and it was far more enjoyable than the open bar and free corn dogs. Kelly O and I were especially intrigued by the band’s bass player, Brian O’Conner, who appears to have the Largest Hands in Rock (though I’m sure former Juno frontman Arlie Carstens could give him a run for the money.

photo: Tim Soter
Excellent robo-disco unit the Juan Maclean today release a digital-only collection of various artists (including Seattle’s Caro, Booka Shade, Lindstrom & Prins, and Cajmere) remixing “Tito’s Way,” Give Me Every Little Thing,” and “Love Is in the Air,” plus two new tracks (“La Chine” and “Dance Floor Modulator”). Luckily for Luddites like me, DFA Records has sent journalists a two-CD version of Visitations, so I can listen to it as I meander around town with my Walkman. You 21st-century types can access it here. Also, I reiterate: do not miss the Juan Maclean if they come to your town.

Love ‘em or hate ‘em, Pitchfork is sure getting alot of recognition these days. What do you think? Snarky snobs or witty wordsmiths? Both?

Tonight the Vera Project is throwing a fundraising party at Vain (2018 First Ave). It starts at 7 pm, it’s free, it’s of course all-ages, and it features the talents of Fankick, Rat City Roller Girls, DJ Skeet, and DJ Teenage Rampage. There’s also gonna be guerilla hair by Vain stylists and live art.

And even though it’s free, you should most definitely bring your checkbook so you can donate to Vera’s Capital Campaign. They’ve raised over half of the million and a half bucks needed for their new venue, but there’s still a ways to go. And don’t be intimidated by the folks throwing around the big money either. Every little bit helps, from a few bucks to a few hundred.

If you can’t make it out tonight, online donations can be made by visiting www.vivavera.com or you can call 956-VERA for more information.

Turns out that losing control over the music in your life for a week isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Earlier today I pulled down the sun visor of our freshly rented Cadillac and a CDR of DJ Clue’s “Where Ya Hood At? Pt. 1” fell into my lap. Thanks, previous renter!

And now, as I’m Line-Outing poolside and the sun sinks low in the West, I’m getting curious - what’s the best music you’ve ever found? I’m not talking “found” as in your friend turned you on to it, or “found” cruising the reviews over at Pitchfork, but found as in on lying on the street, in the seat next to you on the bus, etc. Tell me about it in comments, please.

Photo: Megan Holmes

We somehow neglected to preview Fiery Furnaces’ June 13 show at Neumo’s in The Stranger’s print edition, so I’m using this space to suggest you hit it, and hit it hard. You may not like Fiery Furnace’s complex, densely layered, baroque pop on disc (I happen to think it often verges on genius), but in live settings siblings Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger and cohorts generate a whirlwind of psychedelic pop/rock action with no respites for applause.

All three times I’ve seen Fiery Furnaces, they’ve boggled my mind with a panoply of bizarre analog-synth eruptions, whimsical, turn on a dime dynamics, intricate yet memorably beautiful melodies, idiosyncratically literate lyrics, and the sort of tight musicianship that suggests insane hours of intense rehearsals (yet it’s probably all improvised).

Fiery Furnaces’ new album, Bitter Tea (Fat Possum), is probably their weirdest yet. My favorite is still the debut, Gallowsbird’s Bark, but Bitter Tea seems like it’ll be a grower (and a better listen while under the influence).

What distinguishes Fiery Furnaces from most of their peers is their deep knowledge of rock/pop history and their willingness to both allude to it and then to subvert it. Neither stodgy homage nor ostentatious freakiness for its own sake, FF’s music strikes a deft balance between tradition and innovation. Rare is the band that can evoke Tin Pan Alley, the Who, Captain Beefheart, and Mort Garson while not obviously aligning themselves with any of them. Go and be dazzled.

I wish I could have made it to Mutek, the pinnacle of all electronic music festivals, held this year in Montreal from May 31-June 4. I won’t be missing next year’s, not after my recent exposure to one of Mutek’s highlights—specifically the sonically precipitous heights reached by Ryoichi Kurokawa in his blistering performance June 1 at Ex Centris.

This video of the performance reveals a revolving electro-treatment plant of rapid succession. Liquid glitch pours into heavy static rubble and hard-driving beats. Kurokawa is also an accomplished visual artist, having done visuals for HUMAN AUDIO SPONGE, an audiovisual performance that featured one of my favorite collaborators in electronic music, Ryuichi Sakamoto.

Kurokawa’s skill cannot be denied in this video, as the mesmerizing montage of intense color and lightning-speed editing provokes a racing pulse, the flooding of synaptic clefts and a dizzying branch of fresh neural-pathways.

Decibel Festival director Sean Horton gave the performance highest acclaim.

“[Kurokawa’s set was] by far my favorite performance at Mutek this past year and the best visuals I’ve ever seen in an electronic music set,” wrote Horton.

Parts of the performance really brought to mind the similiarly seismic music of Neina, especially “Melt,” off the album Formed Verse (Mille-Plateaux). The Neina track features the same feeling of polar oscillation punctuated by fault-rupturing beats and magma drifts.

As Segal noted earlier, the Decibel Festival folks are in the process of wooing Kurokawa into signing onto this year’s festival playbill, which will overwhelm Seattle with its huge talent from Sept 14-17. Nothing for sure just yet.

See Dave’s Post here for the tentative line-up.

photo by Perkowitz

Elite Seattle techno producer Jeff Samuel will be moving to Berlin in late July, and plans to live there at least six months, and then decide whether to move back to Seattle. Even though Samuel says he hates Berlin, he admits it makes sense to be based there: his fan base is largely European, the labels for which he records are mainly located there, and the cost of living is much cheaper than it is in Seattle (a city Samuel loves for its natural beauty). In Germany and other Euro nations, Samuel plays before large, appreciative crowds and earns much more money per gig than he does from U.S. performances (this is why fellow Seattle techno artist Bruno Pronsato and so many other North American techno DJs and producers set up shop over there).

In other Samuel news, he is remixing “Colours” by up-and-coming Astralwerks act Hot Chip.

Mister Leisure reports from sunny Honolulu, HI, on a trip where he neglected to bring his iPod and is therefore subject to whatever music is (or isn’t) around. Some notes:

1. I am a white-knuckle flier, prone to severe panic attacks in the ten minutes before and after takeoff. As the rickety, 80’s-era plane belched out smoke and tottered down the runway at SFO, I noticed that “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” was playing softly on the speakers overhead. I was not soothed.

2. The hotel we’re staying at has no background music. Nothing playing in the lobby. Nothing in the restaurants. Nothing out by the pool. Nothing in the restrooms, even.

3. The hotel is also a popular wedding spot, and we see no less than four brides and their entourages every day. Yet we have not heard a single wedding march or any wedding DJ standards. We’re not sure whether they’re getting hitched out of earshot or just having incredibly creepy silent weddings on the premises.

4. In fact, this hotel has four restaurants and five bars and not a single dancefloor.

5. Across town at the 50th State Fair, a summer carnival that lets you take rides deemed unsafe in the other 49, they haven’t changed the tapes in at least twenty years. We ate funnel cake and watched stoned hesher kids win Def Leppard coke mirrors while listening to Save A Prayer, I’ll Melt With You, I’ll Tumble For Ya, etc. It’s like they’re trapped in a permanent 1982. (cue Twilight Zone theme)

To celebrate the release of Sonic Youth’s 20th (!) album Rather Ripped, Sonic Boom Records is hosting a listening party and everyone is invited. At the Fremont store (3414 Fremont Ave N) they’ll be spinning the new record, offering free pizza and drinks, and giving everyone a chance to win Sonic Youth hoodies and shirts, concert tickets for the June 30th show at the Moore, and the entire Sonic Youth discography. It’s completely free and goes from 6-8 pm tomorrow night.

Call the store at 547-BOOM or visit www.sonicboomrecords.com for more information.

One of the great composers of 20th century music has died. From the unforgettable morass of micro-polyphonic textures of “Atmosphères” (best known from the film “2001” and used without the composer’s knowledge or consent!) to his series of finger-breaking piano studies written in the 1980s and 90s, György Ligeti’s music continued to grow, displaying interests in Central African drumming, minimalism, Conlon Nancarrow, and fractals.

Along with Atmosphères, other key works include Lontano, Volumina for organ, Nouvelle Aventures, Ramifications for string orchestra, the opera Le Grand Macabre as well as concertos for piano, violin, and cello. Ligeti’s three books of piano studies rank with Debussy’s Etudes, Schoenberg’s Three Piano Pieces op. 11, and Nancarrow’s player piano studies as seminal piano music of the 20th century.

I also recommend the lesser-known Apparitions for orchestra. Composed in 1958-9, Apparitions is a kaleidoscopic vortex of erupting cadences, trenchant melodic fragments, and moody colors.

The notice from the AP.

Last night I had the sincere pleasure of witnessing some real, live Ghost Riding The Whip!

The event took place at Broadway & Union last night around 12:45 am. It was everything I could’ve hoped for. Sorry for not having pictures…

I realize that it was sparse at Neumo’s last night because all hail the Laptop Battle at Chop Suey—how was it, btw?

But I was really irritated last night by the catatonic crowd that congregated for last night’s Truckasaurus show at Neumo’s. I was wondering how it was going to be, because the last time I had seen them at Baltic Room they had played to a packed house and performers huddled together right up against the crowd so everyone was really excited and getting into it. The Truckasaurus guys were still in that same collaborative huddle last night, arms like tentacles cross-hatched over the landscape of electronics, but instead of right in front of me, they were up on that spacious stage, set apart, and there were hardly a couple handfuls of people in the venue. All that space and lack of intimacy seemed to overwhelm the spectacle. But whatever. The show was awesome—it’s the crowd I want to complain about. People were standing around like stone sculpture or garden topiary, barely registering Truckasaurus’ goods. Christ. No one even applauded for the first two songs. I felt bad, because I raised my hands to clap, but because there is still an inkling of self-consciousness left in me, I retreated from my applauding stance when it registered that no one else was going there. I realized that even I was being lame and eventually forced myself to be one of, like, three people to start clapping after the next song. By the end, people were actually moving their bodies and showing more vocal respect, but I was already ticked off because I thought these guys deserved more recognition.

Truckasaurus: You guys kicked ass. On behalf of the entire audience, let me just apologize for our overall complacency and lack of enthusiasm. We sucked.

What is it with Seattle? No one claps if others don’t. No one dances if there isn’t already a grip of people dancing. If there are a few conversations going on in the crowd everyone takes their cue and performances that have been painstakingly prepared for get drowned out with vapid chatter. Sometimes it seems like the majority of Seattle club-goers are all just a bunch of lemmings marching mindlessly to their own demise, all follow and no initiative. I know I’m generalizing, because I’m sure it was crazy at Chop Suey last night, but typically, Seattle audiences are inert and uninteresting.

Played Galapagos in Brooklyn.

It hasn’t stopped raining the entire tour. The load outs are wet, we are wet, the equipment is wet, and our socks are wet, but the music and the pizza are dry. If I were on Noah’s Ark, I would get the kuala bears, find and a corner with some nice dry hay, and sleep. And when we woke, we would have a pillow fight, and eat Count Chocula.

City to city and Dave’s i-pod pours a goldmine -
Television, D’Angelo, The Constantines, Cobra High, Nightmares on Wax, Judas Priest, and Arcade Fire.

Someone outside the club asked me what our music sounded like. I was so wet and frazzled, I told him, “Kind of like Rush, kind of techno, kind of pyro muppet mexi-jazz.”

He said, “What’s mexi-jazz?”

I said, “Like mexi-fries.” He was in a band as well. I asked him what they sounded like.

He said, “We sound like Rush too.”

Trent - out.

Head Like a Kite

Photos: Marlon Schaeffer

This track by the Pase Rock (heard Thursday at Chop Suey before Spank Rock took the stage and at other clubs recently) is turning out to be one of the summer jams of 2006. Little Stevie Wonder sounds amazing in this new context. Tell me where that beat’s lifted from (I think Bell Biv Devoe also used it in “Poison”), and I’ll buy you a drink next time I see you.

For me, listening to Ani DiFranco has always been about as appealing as eating gruel while sitting in a corrugated tin shack in the middle of nowhere—while wearing a burlap bodysuit. I can’t fathom why she’s so beloved. DiFranco has another album coming out August 8 titled Reprieve—and what an ordeal it is to endure. Can anyone explain the appeal of this woman’s unfeasibly popular, libido-killing, blanched folk music? Because I’m stumped.

Although I wasn’t able to make it to Neumo’s Noise For the Needy show last night, it sounds like it was quite a success and the artists didn’t disappoint (see Kurt B. Reighley’s review of Jesse Sykes’ set earlier this morning). I did make it down to the Sunset to see Hypatia Lake and the Turn-Ons. Hypatia Lake (pictured above) were damn impressive—and I obviously wasn’t the only one who thought so—a rep from Sad Robot Records was checking ‘em out too.

A few days ago I made this post titled WTF?

Well, now I know, and I thought I’d share the answers with you.

The two singers are Danny Ja Armi (translation: Danny & Armi). Hence the D&A on the sweaters of the background dancers.

Danny (ne Ilkka Johannes Lipsanen) is a very famous singer from Finland. He’s, like, the Finnish Tom Jones. Performing pretty much non-stop since the mid 60’s. He does a traveling tour that goes all over Finland to huge crowds, similar to a traveling Branson, MI show or Lawrence Welk.

Armi (ne Armi Aavikko) is, as you can probably tell from that link, dead. (BTW, doesn’t she look like Nick Garrison as Hedwig in that photo?) She was Miss Finland for 1977 and soon after joined up with Danny for some duet performances that were amamzingly popular in their homeland.

In 1978 they released their smash hit “Tahdon Olla Sulle Hella” (I’m missing some crazy Finnish lettering here, but i don’t know how to do that on the blog, sorry!) It was so big they decided to try to “wow” the english speaking world with it. Hence the now classic, at least to me, “I Want To Love You Tender”.

Armi died of complications from pneumonia, possibly acerbated by chronic alcoholism, in 2002. And Danny still performs in his traveling show to this day. They could never have imagined that thirty years after the original song was recorded they would become a worldwide phenomenon, due entirely to the internet.

As a special gift, I give you this link. The full original song in Finnish. The link expires on 8/15/06 so get it while it’s hot!

God bless you Danny ja Armi!

Noise for the Needy continues to take over the city this weekend with their week’s worth of benefit shows. In an effort to raise money for New Beginnings, Noise for the Needy organized an onslaught of great rock shows featuring bands like Jesse Sykes & the Sweet Hereafter, Mark Pickerel, Slender Means, Arkade, Hypatia Lake, Mon Frere, Tourist, the Valley, and Ms. Led. There’s also an all-ages show at the Crocodile with Rock & Roll Soldiers, the Blakes, the Boss Martians, and the Pharmacy. The shows kicked off on Tuesday, but there’s still a lot of action left. And all shows are $10 or less, with the money going to a great cause. Worth checkin’ out if your weekend looks bare.

If you want to know more about the people behind the project, Hannah Levin wrote about Noise for the Needy in this week’s Rocka Rolla column, and you can also visit their website,www.noisefortheneedy.org where they accept online donations.

A complete show schedule is after the jump.

Friday 6/9
Sunset Tavern—Pleasurecraft, Romance, Spook the Horse, Paris Spleen, DJ Jimi C, $8
Comet Tavern—Lady Krishna’s Peppermint Lounge, the Levitations, Ape City R&B, the Hands, $6
Clun de Silencio—Plan B, Foscil, Vincent Parker, Absolute Madman, DJs Bumblebee, Hideki, Kamui, Introcut, M’Chateau

Saturday 6/10
Sunset Tavern—Ruston Mire, the Purrs, the Elephants, Stuart Valentine, DJ Chrispo, $8
Comet Tavern—Earaches, the Valley, Invention, Ms. Led, $6
The Funhouse—Mon Frere, Tourist, Exit Stories, Post Harbor, $7

Sunday 6/11
Crocodile—Rock & Roll Soldiers, the Blakes, the Boss Martians, the Pharmacy, DJs Aykut, Eon (6 pm, all ages), $8/$10

Man… the hype behind the whole Gnarls Barkley thing was way too much even for my tastes. But nonetheless, I have a lot of respect for the project and appreciate the album for what it is… a pop album. Apparently things were totally out of control last night on the MTV Movie Awards. The Gnarls Barkley performance was amazing… Way to redeem the SW saga’s last 8 years of failings… Check out the epic performance here.

This will be old news to Dave Segal (he was there, man!), but I just listened to this recording of a Mutek panel devoted to that venerable question, “Are Records Dead?” hosted by blogger/journalist/dj extraordinaire, Philip Sherburne.

This is pretty nerdy stuff, but if you buy records, make records, spin records, or sell records it’s worth a listen. Mr. Sherburne suggests you listen to it while doing some light housework, but I think it could also make for a relaxing bath.

So what does everyone think? DJs, what do you prefer? How long will you lug around crates of vinyl when MP3s are so very light? Record buyers, at what point do these things become only collectibles/fetish objects without real functionality? Record stores, how the hell are you staying in business?

Personal story: When I was a little kid I distinctly remember sitting in the back of the Frizzelle station wagon and riding the freeways of San Jose while my mom listened to the radio and, often as not, cried. The station she liked played Hall & Oates ALL THE TIME. Two months ago, I started buying and listening to music that reminds me of my parents, that I’d rejected because it was mainstream or whatever but that, on relistening, makes me pretty damn happy. I’ve been listening to Hall & Oates ALL THE TIME. The big hits, mainly—”Maneater,” “Private Eyes,” “Rich Girl,” “Sarah Smile,” “One on One.” Imagine my surprise when I learned, last week, that Hall & Motherfucking Oates are playing the Paramount. Ladies and gentlemen, they’re playing the Paramount TONIGHT. Hannan Levin writes in Stranger Suggests:

Hall & Oates
(MUSIC) It’s an unfortunate reality that the mere mention of Daryl and John’s surnames produces snickers and recitations of the chorus from “Maneater.” They’ve been reduced to an ’80s punch line, but the reality is that their white-boy soul fusions were built with some exceptionally strong pop songwriting skills. Do yourself a favor, go listen to “Rich Girl” with fresh ears and hear it for yourself. (Paramount, 911 Pine St, 292-0888. 8 pm, $37–$67, all ages.)

I part ways with Levin on this because I’ll go to bat for “Maneater” any day of the week and twice on Sunday. It’s just so catchy and so supremely weird. Some of the lyrics I’m just learning now—for instance, who knew he’s singing “The woman is wild, a she-cat tamed by the purr of a Jaguar” [and why the initial cap? is this just bad grammar, or a reference to the car? {also, aren’t those pictures along the side amazing? the saxophone? the beret?}]—but that chorus is as deep in my psyche as the topography of California.

EXTRA DOUBLE-SCOOP CAN-YOU-BELIEVE-IT INSIDE TIP: It just so happens—it’s so cosmic—that Harvey Danger has been working on their fabled cover of “Maneater” and will be perfoming it this very night, giving you, Seattle resident, the opportunity, since the Hall & Oates show starts at 8 and Harvey Danger take the stage (at the Crocodile) probably somewhere between 11 and midnight, to see two hit bands doing “Maneater” in one night.

And people say this town is boring…

In addition to the fierce anti-Ben Harper screed in this week’s paper, there have been a couple other good ‘n creepy music-related I, Anonymous submissions in the I, Anon forum.

First up is a relatively fluffy entry asking an age-old question: How come rock bands insist on looking like scowling, humorless twats in their publicity photos?

The second entry is much weightier and creepier, involving a local female concertgoer, the recent Too Short show, and an allegedly misplaced penis.

(Feel free to offer your answers to the first entry and outrage over the second in the comments.)

[In which the author pays tribute to Carl Craig while nearly overheating, lounges around for a bit in both the literal and figurative senses, then closes out the festival with a wonderful last few hours and late night scenester adventures.]

Prior DEMF posts here:
Day Two
Day One
Day Three

Those that know me outside of the blogosphere know that I haven’t been able to shut up about being able to see Carl Craig. I’ll make an attempt to be a bit more even-handed here in my full recap of the last day of this year’s DEMF (and the close to this series of posts), but please bear with me if I gush a bit.

The last day of the festival started the earliest, on account of Carl Craig choosing the opening slot for the day. I left my hotel to a warning from housekeeping to drink lots of water since it was supposed to hit 92 degrees (it reached 91, matching the 1969 record), making it the hottest day of the festival. The lack of cloudcover didn’t provide anything in the way of relief either as I rushed to the festival only to be met with an extreme feeling of solitude. The afternoons are always a bit slow, but this was particularly empty (tumbleweeds will be fitting for the film adaptation). That is, until reaching the Pyramid stage where Craig was playing. There may not have been many people overall (a hundred or so when I arrived), but it filled out over the course of the set, as did the festival grounds at large.

Craig’s set took bits from his Fabric release, fit in some Detroit classics, some house, some techno, and a lot of tracks that fit in between. He even dropped some minimal over the course of his three hours. The trainspotting wasn’t so important as the overall effect, which was a set that took the time to explore, and had a life of its own. Rather than being just a set at the festival, this was the set at the festival, bringing in DJs as well as people of all backgrounds (Shawn Rudiman and Kevin Saunderson dropped by, the latter greeted to his classic track “Good Life”). Behind Craig, his daughter danced to the varying beats, while myself and others did the same despite the heat.

After Carl Craig, it was time to find some relief. Not having enough energy for Adam X on the main stage (a few brave souls toughed it out, although the bulk of people hung out in the shade), I made my way over to the Beatport stage. People were sitting on the ground both under the tent and in its surrounding area to Klimek’s set, which didn’t seem to be a live set as much as a Winamp playlist (he didn’t even stay at his laptop). Even with no performance to speak of, people spoke in hushed tones if they spoke at all, just taking in the experience and conserving their energy. Mikkel Metal didn’t alter a working formula too much, although there was at least a person to watch.

Back on the Pyramid Stage, house had taken over entirely. The stage was curated by Organic (house promoters) and the talent was top-notch all day long. Louie Vega rocked it after an equally good set from Michael Geiger, while Blaze and Mr. V worked together a bit (along with Vega) to provide a more live show element with turntables, a synth, and live vocals before Mike Huckaby closed it out. The crowd ate it up, and rightfully so. Like Tortured Soul the day before, this was where people came together in musical appreciation.

The Underground Stage managed to not sound any better for the most part. I was immediately turned off of Greenskeepers, both because their music wasn’t doing it for me but also because the stage was running behind schedule, placing them in Derrick Carter’s timeslot. It would have taken a lot to gain my favor anyway, but I’m willing to admit they had to work with the huge disadvantage of that space while trying to play live. Derrick Carter managed to kill it though, foregoing the more mellow introductory tracks in favor of the house bangers, playing hard enough to make me wonder initially if it was even him as I came back to the stage.

The Real Detroit stage brought a little something different to the table, choosing to go the more chaotic IDM route after a set from Kill Memory Crash. There was a lot more representation by the goth/industrial crowd this is where they congregated before Nitzer Ebb. Chemlab, Otto von Shirach, and Richard Devine kept it abrasive, but they had an appreciative audience.

For the most part I camped out at the main stage, watching Derrick May perform a great set (as always), before Nitzer Ebb. I can’t claim to be a fan or even exposed to much of their music, but for a decade-long break, it wasn’t bad. Not so much to convert me, since I’m not into the whole industrial sound, but I didn’t leave, and heard a few songs that even I’d heard before. They’re in the middle of a tour now, and I’d say it was worth your while provided the venue was smaller (the main stage really seemed to swallow them up).

Richie Hawtin once again played the closing set to the festival, last year underground, this year at the Main Stage. It was packed and the set was a great way to close out the festival proper.

Closing out the festival experience however was well, Richie Hawtin again. After a fair bit of waiting and harried phone calls, entrance was secured (Thanks Jerry!) to the private closing party for the festival. Back at Oslo once again, the party filled out slowly, with the crowd outside calling “people who know people” to gain entry. The already dimly lit room was rendered dark as the crowd unscrewed the lights in the basement dancefloor, making the party all the more intimate. Mark Houle played while the space filled out, before Hawtin came in and played to the appreciative crowd. Moving at points in experimental directions, the crowd stuck with him until the lights came on at five, still clamoring for more.

Slowly filing out, it was time to head back to the hotel for a short amount of rest before heading to the airport for the trip back home. Another DEMF had come to a close, and as in all year’s prior, I left looking forward to next year’s edition.

Jesse Sykes and the Sweet Hereafter debuted a bunch of new material at the Noise for the Needy fundraiser at Neumos last night. I particularly dug “Air Is Thin,” which featured sublime backing vocal accents by bassist Bill Herzog, violinist Anne Marie Ruljancich, and guitarist Phil Wandscher, and the rockin’ “Walk Away.” In fact, the whole set - which was composed almost entirely of material from their next album - was more driving and harder overall, which Jesse and Bill both attributed to the recent addition of new drummer Eric Eagle. Their third full-length won’t be in stores until Jan. 2007, but based on what I heard last night, it should be well worth the long wait and any delays (they’ve been working on it since February!).

photo: Tony Ware

Spank Rock: prepare for the hipster clusterfuck. At the risk of luring in yet more scarf-wearing, Vice-reading Capitol Hillbillies to the Spank Rock show tonight at Chop Suey, I’d like to recommend you attend what is sure to be an urbane evening of marble-mouthed XXX raps, cowbell-plunkin’, B-more-bounce rhythms, computer-game FX, jagged glitch-hop beats, and booty ogling. Stranger hiphop columnist Larry Mizell Jr. grumbles that Spank Rock are “utter hipster bait” and doubts that they’re “the next shit.” To which I say, some hipster bait is worthwhile (Spank Rock, for example), and even if they’re not the next shit, Spank Rock are plenty exciting and their YoYoYoYoYo album never fails to uplift this jaded muthafucka. Now where’s my scarf?

It’s just nice to see the former SPIN editor’s byline again, but it was also very nice to see how smokin’ hot Ms. Jett looks. She’s 47? Sheesh—Iggy Pop must have shared his secrets with her. Read the full review here.

After enduring the 37th command in an hour to “Make some fucking noise!” at the Lady Sovereign/Streets gig last night at Showbox, I had reached the end of my tether. “No, goddamnit,” I thought, “you make some noise that will inspire us to make some noise.” Enough of this constant hectoring to push our vocal cords to their limits, just because you have insecurity issues. Earn your crowd noise, don’t beg for it. Show some ingenuity.

Next time an artist onstage badgers me to “Make some fucking noise!” I’m going to produce a CD-R of people furiously, loudly copulating and bribe the sound man to play it in the monitors at top volume. There’s your fucking noise, G.

The woman in this video is Paris Whitney Hilton, resident of New York City and key employee at Paris Hilton Inc., a vertically and horizontally integrated entertainment corporation whose financial tendrils extend from the U.S. hospitality industry to a number of Greek shipping conglomerates and the boardrooms of companies like Warner Music Group and Amazon.com.

Its core product is “Paris Hilton,” a celebrity construct targeted at adolescent males and the lucrative “tween” market, whose disposable income and receptiveness to mass media make them the most highly desired demographics in the media business. Shareholders and directors get sweaty at the thought of penetrating this notoriously fickle market, so when Paris Hilton, Inc. unveils new features and services they stand erect and take notice.

Their newest product, a musical entertainment called “Stars Are Blind,” was leaked to the Internet this week, and shareholders are pleased not only with the clever marketing, branding and positioning efforts, but also with the tremendous innovation it took to bring this to market. The technology behind producer Fernando Garibay’s implementation of the remarkably lifelike vocals is the product of at least two years of R&D and cross-industry collaboration. Digital effects specialists view director Chris Applebaum’s work as a crowning achievement in CGI realism, noting that the televisual Hilton’s movements and expressions are nearly indistinguishable from those of actual human beings. Although end-user adoption is expected to be limited, corporate customers in the chain nightclub and cruise ship industries are sure to make extensive use of this product in their lifestyle and “experience marketing” efforts.

Some analysts question the potential of Hilton, Inc. to successfully extend its brand, whose core strengths lie in film and publishing, to such diverse markets as musical entertainment and canine/simian accoutrement. Yet, in hopes of engorged future balance sheets, they maintain “strong buy” ratings on all its associated properties.

This review is hardly new, but it’s new to me. It’s perhaps the most intelligent description you’ll ever read about hip-hop’s dumbest offshoot, hyphy (that is until Mudede writes one). I was suprised by someone being willing to make mythological references to the genre that brought us ghost-ridin’ the whip.

Contain your female, handle your drugs, never lose cool. Hyphy rejects this macho Apollonian pose, finding it unnatural and inhibiting. Instead it prizes a Dionysian authenticity of feeling over some make-believe authenticity to street stoicism.

Here’s some video for you as well. Keak da Sneak, hyphy veteran.

Link to the Video

It’s official: The Murder City Devils are reuniting and will headline the Capitol Hill Block Party on July 29. Lest you think this is the start of some Pixies-like revival, this is a one-time deal, kids. MCD rep Gabe Kerbrat couldn’t have been much clearer when I contacted him for comment, saying, “The band is not back together. It is just one show.” While they’re certainly free to change their minds, it seems unlikely everyone involved would have the time for a full-scale reunion, particularly multi-tasking drummer Coady Willis who has obligations to both Big Business (also playing the Block Party) and the Melvins.

In other news…

It’s not as weird as Lemmy Kilmister’s mole, but Grandaddy has put some strange stuff up for auction on Ebay.

The Dixie Chicks are having a difficult time with ticket sales is some markets (unsurprisingly, many of these are red states). Personally, I think their booking agent should have put them in larger clubs instead of sticking them in arenas. Their more liberal audiences are probably less enamored of shelling out cash for a huge arena show—and a lot of people who wouldn’t normally attend would go see them if they were playing, say, the Showbox or the Paramount.

This new Joe Strummer documentary looks potentially great; no word yet on a Seattle screening or a U.S. DVD release date. Update: Looks like June 27 is the DVD release date.

I’ve long believed that one’s list of top 10 Beatles songs could effectively reveal much about one’s personality. The fact that the Beatles catalog encompasses so many styles and evokes so many emotions makes it a sort of sonic Rorschach Test. Hell, you might even be able to pick your soul mate by comparing his/her favorite tracks from the Liverpool quartet’s 200+ treasure trove to your own.

You could probably achieve similar insights by asking folks for their top 10 Rolling Stones songs or top 10s from any other band with a vast supply of stylistically diverse material. But, taking into account those of all rock/funk/soul bands of the past 50 years or so, the Beatles songbook perhaps conveys the most universal significance to the most people.

I will now list in no particular order my 10 favorite Beatles tracks as of June 2006. Feel free to critique and to contribute your own top 10s (with commentary, if you wish). Let the amateur psychoanalysis and sociological theorizing (and match-making) begin!

01 Tomorrow Never Knows
02 She Said She Said
03 I Am the Walrus
04 It’s All Too Much
05 Paperback Writer
06 Rain
07 Ticket to Ride
08 Strawberry Fields Forever
09 Dear Prudence
10 Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and Monkey

Oh, and this one is so much a part of my daily routine that I forgot to mention it, sort of like how I’d forget to mention that I brushed my teeth this morning. Add it and read it religiously [sic].

The Contemporary Arts Center in North Adams, Massachusetts is haunted. For real. It is located in the 5 story, 140,000 square foot ‘Beaver Mill.’ In the 1800’s they manufactured textiles there. In the 20’s, they began making electrical parts. The place is room after room through narrow hallways and stairwells. It has that smell of earth, rusted circuitry, brick, and machinery. We played with a band called Japanther, and they completely dominated.

Two sisters, both engaged to married, were run over in front of the mill during the 40’s. They also say one of the workers there spontaneously combusted in the 20’s. The guy just up and exploded. Places like this kind of freak me out. I was waiting to round a corner and see the dead sisters holding their decapitated heads.

Think séance. The Shining. Icabod Crane. Blair Witch. I couldn’t stop thinking about the dead sisters. I heard whispers in my head. I did the best I could to provide the people of North Adams with quality rock action, but the heebie jeebies had a hold. The place was so big, and haunted. I mean, somebody spontaneously combusted in there.

Then came ‘The Dark Ride.’ The absolute last thing I would have expected to be on the 3rd floor of the ‘Beaver Mill.’ ‘The Sensory Integrator’ it said. Part exhibit, part ride. You sit in this chair, like an electric chair, and it’s on a track, and it moves you through the exhibit. After we played, Hezzie, the CAC Director, got the keys, and opened it up for us. It takes up an entire floor. No lights were on.

The brochure says, “Be a voyager through the Introcave and Gateway Station. Experience the Space Sculpture Garden and the Purity Vacuum.” We walked through with flashlights. There was all this melted plastic, hanging neon globular foam turds, and humanoid forms. I was already freaked out.

There was something inbred about the whole thing. But futuristic. ‘Lost in Space’ mixed with ‘Deliverance.’ I don’t know. I kept waiting for it all to make sense, but it didn’t. I couldn’t get futuristic with the hanging foam globs and the Poltergeist happening. When we entered the Purity Vacuum, I thought I saw one of the humanoid things move and I heard a baby’s voice crying. I tinkled and ran.

Trent - out.

Head Like a Kite

Photos: Hezzie Phillips

* Japanther plays The Capitol Hill Arts Center on August 19th.

The Rentals have returned! Have you missed them as much as I have?

The band, featuring Matt Sharp of Weezer when Weezer was still a good band, is playing Neumo’s Monday, July 24. Tickets are $20 advance, and they go on sale this Friday, June 9. The show is all-ages.

I’m the happiest girl ever.

My lone sibling is coming to visit me. He gets in tonight. I haven’t seen the bastard since December.

My brother and I regard each other with confounded anger, snide irony, nostalgia and love a la familia, but one thing I can always count on when he comes to visit, no matter how much I want to beat his head in sometimes, is that hilarity will promptly ensue. Our mutual love of the absurd makes hanging out with my brother a very special and surreal experience that often involves him saying some crazy shiznit that makes me spew all sorts of beverages and fall all over myself laughing, to the point where it becomes that silent laughter that’s so violent and paralyzing that all you can do is wait for the seizure and fits of wheezing to burst all your internal organs.

I’m preparing myself right now for what’s to come by listening to a compilation he recently made for me, gems from…

Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. Specifically from Whipped Cream & Other Delights, and Going Places.

These silly 1960s horn serenades, ass-shaking rhythms, funky strumming and glockenspiel will make you want to bust out some interpretive dance down the aisles of some linoleum-floored retro-trash shopping center somewhere. It’s dementedly giddy. Just like the rest of my week will surely be.

What do you listen to when you get a hankerin’ for some Quirk?

From perennial Hot Tipper Jake comes the link to the website Meaningless, “a dedication to the songs of the Magnetic Fields,” featuring a whole bunch of musical artists I’ve never heard of covering compositions by Mag-Fields mastermind Stephin Merritt.

I’ve long wondered how covers of Merritt songs would work—clearly his songs are eminently coverable, but how would they come off divorced from the Magnetic Fields’ signature flat-affect/depressed robot delivery?

From what I’ve heard on Meaningless, it’s a delightfully mixed bag. A number of the covers are pretty straightforward, recreating something close to the song’s original style, with lovely results. (See “You and Me and the Moon” by the awesomely named Guantanamo Bay City Rollers). Others art it up admirably (the gorgeous “Book of Love” by the Harvey Girls) and pretentiously (Orbit Service’s “My Only Friend”). And some just bang out sweet, simple renditions of songs they clearly love (Our Lady of the Highway’s “100,000 Fireflies”—a song I first learned to love through another cover version, performed by Nick Garrison’s alter-ego Randi Sparks in his/her late-90s show Semi-Precious, which would make a great addition to Meaningless.)

The most ambitious entry I found was Boy Omega’s “Papa Was a Rodeo,” presented in a lush, piano-based arrangement with a tortured vocal performance that aims for something close to emotional honesty—an odd choice for a musical melodrama that’s eight kinds of ironic, but interesting nonetheless.

Thanks to the Meaningless artists for providing Stephin Merritt lovers with a fresh way to enjoy the songs we love, and confidential to Shania Twain: Just because a bunch of indie kids made a website doesn’t mean you’re not required to cover “Sweet-Lovin’ Man,” making Stephin Merritt rich and you even richer…

How will you use these?

via We Make Money Not Art.

Although it baffles me why you would look to any source other than Line Out to get your music news and views, I do understand the impulse and admit to reading other blogs from time to time. If you’re not already immersed in the indiecrat blogosphere, here are a few to check out.

Click Opera is Momus, aka Nick Currie, musician, art critic, Whitney Biennial “Unofficial Tour Guide” and Wired News columnist. He’s a polarizing figure, what with all his opinions and stuff, and he’s also quite the prolific writer with a lot of interesting thoughts about life in Berlin, New York and Japan, the Slow Life movement, cultural relativism, etc. (He’s also the guy who predicted that “in the future, everyone will be famous for fifteen people” — the seed quote for a book I’m working on.)

David Byrne. A very thoughtful writer, generous and critical at once. Theater, culture, science, art, music. Line Out readers have pointed out his recent entry on packaging and music. Despite all evidence I will take full credit for helping get this debate off the ground :-)

The Original Soundtrack. Geeta gave up a promising career in neuroscience to hang out with us critics and write about techno and stuff. A good run of posts here on the relationship between cooking and music.

Woebot. Obscurists better keep a fresh pair of pants handy.

What’s on your feed list? Let us know in comments.

Goods by Mates of State.

I’m not a huge Mates of State fan. I’ve been known to call the husband/wife team annoying in the past, but there’s something about this song. It’s poppy as hell, but it almost feels badass in how openly upbeat it is. The song just doesn’t give a fuck, you know? It’s gonna be full of cute keyboard, bouncy drums, and saccharine melodies whether you like it or not. Whatever’s going wrong, well, this song makes it all okay. Because it’s “aaaaallllll in your head.” I’ve already listened to it at least a dozen times this morning.

What song do you have on loop?

Take a few minutes of your day to check out this week’s Band of the Week, Joy Wants Eternity.

Their songs are lush, atmospheric soundscapes reminiscent of Mogwai’s more beautiful and melodic moments. But they also obviously find inspiration in My Bloody Valentine. A new full-length album is due out in August, and they’ll be touring later this summer/fall. Visit www.joywantseternity.com for updates.

So apparently these new digital jukeboxes that contain massive amounts of music—much of it obscure and difficult—are starting to appear in public spaces. Writer Wendy McClure described one of them thus in the New York Times Magazine:

The jukebox was new, and with its cheerful, glowing computer screen, it looked like a particularly glitzy A.T.M. The music didn’t come from CD’s or records inside the actual jukebox but from an immense database somewhere on the Internet or maybe even outer space.

She then goes on to recount a night in a joint called Rossi’s where someone had selected Brian Eno’s Thursday Afternoon, which consists of minimalist, Satie-like piano and vaporous synth drones, with infinitesimal variation over its 61-minute duration. The patrons’ outraged, exasperated reactions to this ambient classic are hilarious, including one miserable college dude’s whine, “It’s like yoga music or something.”

And I thought I was ruffling feathers by playing “Revolution 9” in bars…

Terry Gross is interviewing the cute ‘n fluffy rabble-rousers on NPR today (I couldn’t figure out exactly when from the website, but Lorraine Bracco is being interviewed right now and I think they are on next). I still haven’t heard the record and politics aside, I’m terribly curious to hear what Rick Rubin brought to the table. Any Slog or Line Out readers out there with an opinion on Taking the Long Way?

You can listen online here.

I spoke with Decibel festival director Sean Horton (left in the photo) at Montreal’s Mutek last week (more on that fest soon, I hope). He revealed some of the artists who’ll be appearing at the electronic-music event’s third edition (happening Sept. 14-17). Check Decibel’s site for info updates.

ALEX SMOKE
THOMAS FEHLMANN [DUB SET]
TELEFON TEL AVIV
TAYLOR DEUPREE
SUBTLE
GREEN VELVET
FUNCKARMA
APPARAT
DEXTER
TIM XAVIER
RICHARD CHARTIER
DJ CAMEA
RANDY JONES [AMBIENT SET]
NORTEC COLLECTIVE/STATIC DISCOS SHOWCASE [w/ Panopticon, Fax, and others]
FOURTHCITY SHOWCASE

And here are some acts to whom Decibel has made overtures: Bola, Daedelus, Francisco Lopez, Alex Under, the Dead Texan (Stars of the Lid side project), Ryoichi Kurokawa (one of the stars at this year’s Mutek).

Thanks to our sister paper Blogtown PDX for providing me with this tasty morsel!

I would pay cold hard cash to see Metallica play either Ride The Lightning or Master Of Puppets in their entirety! Read the complete set list here!

Say what you will about Metallica’s anti-Napster ways, but those two albums still rock hard.

“Fifth Beatle” Billy Preston has passed away at the age of 59. Preston played keyboards on Let it Be, The White Album, and Abbey Road.

At this site you will find the Dubstep History Mix. Horsepower and El-B of course play leading roles in this little history, which has this track list:

Horsepower – Classic Deluxe [Tempa]
Artwork – The Soul [White]
DJ Abstract – Identity Crisis [Vehicle]
Bogeyman Vs Lombardo – Disturbed
DJ Abstract Touch [Tempa]
Phuturistix – 551 Blues [Locked On]
El-B & Blaze – The Club [Ghost]
Horsepower – Let’s Dance [Tempa]
Horsepower – Electro Bass [Turn U On]
Nude – Digitize [Shelflife]
El-B & Roxy – Express [Ghost Ltd]
El-B – Lyrical Tempo [Ghost]
Hyper-Hypa and Julius feat. MC Juiceman – Congo Fever [Shelflife]
High Plains Drifter feat. Goldspot Productions – Sholay (epic mix) [Tempa]
Menta – Snake Charmer [Road]
Artwork – Red [Big Apple]
El-B – Two Thousand [Ghost]
Oris Jay – Biggin Up The Massive [Urban Underground]
Zed Bias – Pretty Pretty [Kritical Mass Productions]
El-B feat. MC Juiceman – Buck & Bury [Ghost]
Daluq – Supafine [Soulja]
Exemen – Far East [Manchu]
Darqwan – Confused ? [Texture]
Darqwan – Pipe Dreams [Soulja]
Menta – Rubba [Sounds of the Future]
Horsepower – Gorgon Sound [Tempa]
Groove Chronicles – Stone Cold [Groove Chronicles]

For some dark and haunting dubstep, this mix is it (checkout Blackdown’s “Crackle Blues,” which follows Burial’s “Distant Lights,” and also Digital Mystikz’s sorrowful ‘Forgive’). The mix’s track list is:

1. Kode 9 ‘Ghost Town’ dubplate 2. Burial ‘Distant Lights’ dubplate 3. Blackdown ‘Crackle Blues’ dubplate 4. Dusk + Blackdown ‘Submerge’ Keysound Recordings 12” 5. Burial ‘You Hurt Me (version)’ dubplate 6. Dusk + Blackdown ‘Mantis VIP’ dubplate 7. Blackdown ‘Mantis VI3’ dubplate 8. Digital Mystikz ‘People Unite’ dubplate 9. Blackdown ‘Lata’ dubplate 10. Blackdown ‘The Danger Line’ dubplate 11. Skream v Distance ‘Political Warfare’ dubplate 12. Skream ‘Deep Concentration’ dubplate 13. Blackdown ‘ZGK’ dubplate 14. Dusk ‘Mantis (Blackdown remix)’ dubplate 15. Sizzla ‘Obstacles (Blackdown refix)’ dubplate 16. Digital Mystikz ‘Forgive’ dubplate 17. Newham Generals ‘Mic Centre’ dubplate

Phil Manning, long time Program Director at 107.7 the End, resigned about a week and a half ago, and the station has already hired a new guy. His name is Lazlo, and he comes to Seattle from Kansas City where he was the Program Director for 96.5 the Buzz.

First glance at the Kansas City station’s website sorta made me wanna puke—their big Summer concert, Beach Ball 2, features 311, Dashboard Confessional, Yellowcard, Hawthorne Heights, and Pepper. Ugh. But their playlist does boast a little more meat, with bands like the Dresden Dolls, Damone, and Band of Horses. The station also has local and alternative/underground hiphop shows, as well as a live DJ spinning on air every Saturday night.

So, it’s hard to say what will happen when Lazlo arrives at KNDD. The new boss could mean big changes. Harms, evening DJ at 107.7 invites everyone to take the opportunity to let the new guy know how you feel. He set up an e-mail address that only Lazlo will have access to. So if you have an opinion about what you like or dislike about the station, if you wanna see something change or if you wanna see something stay the same, e-mail newguy@1077theend.com and let your voice be heard.

Photo: Mark Sullo

That simple statement alone should prick up your ears and spur you to rearrange your schedule to see the master six-string picker. Sun City Girls’ guitarist Sir Richard Bishop has just issued a new CD titled Fingering the Devil on Latitudes. On it he wrings crystalline, mellifluous tones from an acoustic, gracefully alluding to various cultures and ethnicities with respect and unerring facility. Throughout the disc, Bishop’s playing is heart-breakingly beautiful and subtly transporting. I believe the CD has already sold out, but let’s hope the man will have some extra copies to sell. He will be selling a limited-edition CD-R called All Strung Out. Show starts at 7 pm. Wall of Sound is near the intersection of Pine between Bellevue and Melrose in Seattle’s Capitol Hill.

Sitting at home sick today and used “Disco” as a search word in youtube.com. It gave me this.

Can someone explain to me exactly what this video is? Disco? Lounge? Retro ‘50’s Grease-like dance moves mixed with….Oh hell. It could be the meds, but i’m just tripping on this one.

My favorite part is when the two singers start the chorus, and the dancers all of a sudden come barging across the screen. Hilariously bad choreography.

Rocky Votolato just posted the new video for the song “White Daisy Passing” from his latest album, Makers. You can see the video on his Myspace page. And if you haven’t yet checked out the record (released on Barsuk back in January), you really should (if you’re into the acoustic singer/songwriter thing, of coruse). It’s his best yet. You can hear another track, “Portland Is Leaving,” here.

Fans of the avant should consider investigating the second West Coast appearance of the Vox Novus 60 x 60 project, a concert of 60 one minute electro-acoustic pieces by 60 composers.

A surprising percentage of locals are on the program: Greg Bartholomew, Allen Strange, Mark Barreca (anyone remember the avant electronic improvising group Young Scientist?), and Meri von Kleinsmid. Details after the break.

The details: Tuesday June 6 at the Island Music Guild Hall on Bainbridge Island, 10598 Valley Road at 7 pm (6:60) $3.60 (.60 x 6).

A few clubs around town are celebrating today’s “holiday” with special 666 shows. If you wanna get down with the devil, here’s where to go:

Neumos—Supersuckers, Zeke, $10
El Corazon—Left Alive, Church of Hate, Breakneck, Dead Whore River, I Declare War (7 pm, all ages), $8
Funhouse—The King and Beast Side Show, Kaskadia, the Imperial Legions of Rome, Robot Pi, $6
Dante’s—Womanipura, DJ Manos, guests, free
Studio Seven—Betty X, 2 Headed Chang, God Fearing Nation (7:30 pm, all ages), $6.66

A link to audio from Daft Punk at Coachella. Despite being a crowd recording, it’s surprisingly good. All morning I’ve had dancing robots in my head, some of which can be attributed to this set.

[thanks Ario]

Here’s a great Pitchfork interview with lofty solo percussionist and Wilco drummer, Glenn Kotche.

Mobile, Kotche’s third recording as a drum soloist, has my attention right now. I also appreciate that he’s worked with Jim O’Rourke, whose music I’m just beginning to explore.

Solo drumming, you say? It’s not what you’d think, really. It’s heavy stuff, not only in instrumentation but in concept. “Monkey Chant,” with its slow-building to blinding rhythmic intensity, has its hooks in ritual from the Hindu sacred text, the Ramayana.

There are some piano elements and some strings and lots of spangled experimentation throughout, with weird rapping and grinding and cling-clanging and even some sort of squeegeeing, but it’s far from over-wrought.

Basically, Mobile is a lesson in evolution, where primate percussionism meets high-brow composition “ism.”

Tomorrow night local spaz-metal cut-ups Doomsday 1999 are playing their last ever show and bidding a happy birthday/fond farewell to crazy frontman Zack Carlson, who is turning 31 (old!) and moving to Texas (scary!). If you’ve never seen Zack perform with Doomsday, you are missing out on one of the greatest showmen I have ever seen.

3. Crap his pants.

So yeah, if you can possibly make it down to Olympia tomorrow I highly suggest you go salute this baby-genius with whatever hand gesture you deem appropriate.

May I suggest:

Show details after the jump.

THE 6!6!6! PARTY!!!!:

JUNE 6, 2006!!!! A three-party demonic blasteroid of pure party, totally partying OVER THE MAX!!!!

Parties being partied:

1) The birthday of Zack Carlson (actual birthday, & his 31st)!!

2) The permanent moving-away-to-Texas of the same Zack Carlson, as well as his platonic life-partner Bryan Connolly!!

3) The last-ever performance of 2/3-Japanese grindcore act DOOMSDAY 1999!!, who will be grimly flanked by THE SPEED OF DARKNESS, WHITE BOSS and A SURPRISE SLAYER COVER BAND!!!
Also, in his final Olympia appearance: AZZEROTH THE JOVIAL, the world’s finest BLACK METAL STAND-UP COMEDIAN!!!! All new material EXCEPT for his much-ballyhooed rant against Eric “Slowhand” Clapton, now expanded and infused with additional venom!

The birthday celebrations begin at 6:66 pm (or 7:06, for those of you with digital watches). ADDITIONAL ACTIVITIES: Satanic metal DJ, devil’s food cake, unpleasant movies being played with the sound off, desecrated cross(es), burning of bibles & MORE! Bands begin at 8 pm!!

PLEASE BRING PARTY FOOD AND/OR A BIBLE TO THROW IN THE FLAMES in order to GAIN ENTRY. You MAY share one with a friend. This is NOT A JOKE! And if it offends you, why do we know each other?

At midnight, the party shifts into BRYAN & ZACK’S MOVING AWAY PARTY!!! Dance, snack, drink and wrestle with your favorite antisocial opinionated irritatingly movie-obsessed nerds until the sun comes up! Love them or hate them, but DO come to say your farewells!

FOOD! FUN! FRIENDS! FIREWORKS! PATHETICALLY AMATEURISH OCCULTISM!

BE THERE!!!!!!

There being: The Pat Pharm, 2111 Kaiser Rd. NW, Westside Olympia. Email me with any questions.

THREE parties!! THREE sixes!! KICK AWESOME!!!!!

Baptised in the blood of innocents,
your buddy,
Zack

Sorry for the temporary absence of these posts—I’m running the music section solo this week, so I’ve been a little buried.

Badly Drawn Boy, Rogue Wave, Alejandro Escavedo: Added to Bumbershoot.

This guy from Kansas City: Appointed as the 107.7 The End’s new programming director.

Green Day: Working on new album and still contemplating a movie version of American Idiot.

Pitchfork: Having a slow news day.

Are you a local band with a great tour story? A music fan who just heard a killer new band or caught an unusual live show? A publicist with a newsworthy announcement? Email me at hlevin@thestranger.com.

Last night, I went to see Shoplifting at ConWorks (hosted by the temporarily venue-less Vera Project). Shoplifting was great, as always; Devon Welch is one of my favorite guitarists to watch. The band always throws a dangerous dance party where the personal and the politcal bump and grind.

The surprise highlight of the evening was opening band, Kiosk (on tour from Australia), who totally stole the show.

They reminded me of Huggy Bear (a band I never got to see…sigh) only fronted by some evil, teenage version of Bree from The Fitness.

Finally Punk were inspiring in their own way, if not as musically compelling as the other bands. They’re a great example of the possibility and pitfalls of the DIY ethos. The band was occasionally brilliant, full of creative energy, they all played all the instruments, but they were kind of hit or miss. They did do a pretty good Nirvana cover, but if you’re going to dedicate a song to Seattle, just play the theme from Frasier, please.

The sophomore album from Scissor Sisters, featuring former Seattle denizen and Bimbo’s boy Jason “Jake Shears” Sellards, will be entitled Ta-dah, and released domestically on Sept. 26 (Sept. 18 in the UK). A new single, “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’,” will precede the LP release, on Sept. 4.

Details thus far are scant, although legendary songwriter Paul Williams (“Evergreen,” “We’ve Only Just Begun”) recently revealed he’d been writing with the Sisters; Elton John (an early champion of the quintet) is also reportedly on board. Recent Sisters gigs have featured new songs including “Paul McCartney,” “She’s My Man,” and “Forever Right Now.” Look for the band to launch a new official web site (with, hopefully, more details) on June 30.

Made it to New York. Finishing the drive was Daedelus, Out Hud, South, and Earth, Wind, & Fire.

We played Knitting Factory - pouring rain. Had to load out through 200 sixteen year old emo boys. All bad asses. All pissed off. All wanting tattoos on their neck. Razors. Getting the kick drum out was a battle of bouncer vs. emo. A bouncer lead my way. He was like an ice plow. He was throwing the emo’s out of the way. I did see one legitimate neck tattoo. It was Wonder Woman with a devil’s tail, holding a splif.

The rain never stopped. Completely sopping wet. Somebody accidently put their cigarette out on my hand.

Photos: Marlon Schaeffer

Knitting Factory has 3 levels. Each level with an early show and a late show. 18 bands. It’s like a cat in a piranha pond. We played with Evil Beaver. They sold thongs.

Photo: Marlon Schaeffer

Back to the emo kids. One question for them - Do you like Iron Maiden, or have you ever gone through an Iron Maiden phase? Because I don’t think you can consider yourself bad ass until you own and know the 1984 release, Powerslave. Especially, “Rime of the Ancient Mariner”, the 14 minute adaptation of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s epic poem relating the supernatural events experienced by a solitary mariner who kills an albatross. 14 minutes. That is bad ass. Plus, Eddie, Maiden’s 17 ft tall mascot is unstoppable.

Where are the Eddie’s today? We need more Eddies. And more neck tatts. And more Evil Beaver.

Trent - out.

Head Like a Kite

In my very first post for Line Out a few weeks ago, I told everyone that the newest album by the Swedish band, The Knife (pictured below),

entitled Silent Shout,

was the best electronic album of any kind I’d heard so far this year. Everyone I have played it for as been astounded by how raw, visceral and dark the imagery on the album is, and how musically and lyrically Silent Shout is super tight.

So imagine my shock, no, my jaw-fucking-dropping-to-the-floor shock at the album being given 1 FUCKING STAR by Q magazine.

I’ll admit I used to love Q magazine years ago. I grew up in a small town and getting an issue of Q opened up a world of music that the local Sam Goody’s never dared to touch. I felt so smart and know-it-all-y after reading issues with huge articles about the history of Kate Bush and other British acts. This just seem like such a betrayal of how smart Q used to be (to me at least!)

Here is their review:

Jose Gonzalez endorsed them. Did he not want to do that.

Those captivated by the skeletal acoustic beauty of Jose Gonzalez’s top 10 hit Heartbeats (which also appeared in the Sony TV ad with the multicoloured balls) may be surprised to learn that the song was originally a synth-driven dance track performed by fellow Swedes The Knife. Anyone looking for similar pop gems here, however, will be bitterly disappointed by Silent Shout, a hideous mess of electro noodling and maddenly obtuse, tuneless vocals. Arch and über cool, The Knife probably think they’re making something approaching high art. In actual fact, they’re making something which is barely listenable. (Luke Lewis)

Whatever Q Magazine! You just keep writing those great reviews of lame-ass albums by Oasis and their offspring. I’m so disapointed in you!

Ignore this twat, Luke Lewis, and go buy yourself a copy of Silent Shout. You will thank me, I swear.

I’m graduating! In celebration of my journalism certification, I’m heading over to Chop Suey tonight to check out Foscil and Specs One.

I’m hoping they play my personal anthem, “My Words,” so that I can get deranged on the dance floor. Don’t miss this show. If you’re into sampling of quirky antiquity and shrewd breaks, you better be there. These guys are sleepers, which amazes me because these saucy beats are satisfying. Get some while Seattle still sleeps.

It’s pretty easy these days to score a copy of Ableton Live or Fruity Loops and make yourself a half-decent techno track. But what about all the other stuff that goes with being a super techno don, like finding good records and building your cred as a tastemaker? Can technology help with that, too?

Well, now it can. Give it a whirl and let me know if you score any gigs.

I went to see Eluvium last night at Neumos. Eluvium is local musician Matthew Cooper.

I’ve been appreciating Eluvium’s incandescent drones for a couple months now, since someone gave me Talk Amongst The Trees. I happened to be in a low place in life, living in Olympia for an internship, feeling isolated, making the commute to Seattle just to stay connected at some level.

I listened to Eluvium during my last few commutes to and from Olympia. These commutes usually involved the road overtaking me, becoming a sort of half-lit half-person for the duration. But, when I put Eluvium on, the flatness filled out into ultra-topography and all the bottled tension diffused and what lay underneath swelled up to the surface. It’s impossible to be a stagnant listener as Eluvium grooms for transcendence. And that seems to be the purpose of this music, apart from pure musical enjoyment.

This is not music designed for intellectualizing or for mere functionalism. Eluvium is an unearther, a unifier and an amplifier of states of mind and emotion. It’s an amorphous bore-tide of swirling guitar drones and subtle synth. Temporal layers lead to cyclic humming, whirring, chiming, whorls of riff-reversal, and tremors of trebled guitar. There is a distinctly cathartic effect to Eluvium’s endless instrumental mumuring.

But this isn’t shoe-gazing melancholia or glamorized isolationism, two themes that grow tiresome within the drone genre. Instead, Eluvium’s afterglow is pure openness.

Postscript: I wrote this before doing a google search for an Eluvium link. After calling this music “unearthing,” come to find out that eluvium is actually a geological term for soil deposits “derived by in situ weathering,” which is a combination of natural weathering, gravity and aggregation, like buried veins of gold or diamond. I had no idea, but the metaphor came just as naturally.

Matthew Cooper knows what he’s doing.

There is an extensive article on the revival of Fania Records, “the Latin Motown,” in the Arts section of today’s New York Times. Even if you’re only a casual fan of the genre, it’s a good read; if you’re the sort of consumer who snatches up everything on Seattle’s own Light in the Attic imprint, it’s essential.

My personal favorite from the Fania catalog is Acid, the 1968 full-length by conga legend Ray Barretto (who just passed away in February). Guitarist Mario Andreoni from !!! (chk chk chk) turned me on to it a few years ago, and it has rarely left my DJ crate since.

[In which the author describes Day Two of the Movement Festival, the enjoyment of Tortured Soul, Kevin Saunderson, The Orb and later Stacey Pullen, while expressing disappointment with the J Dilla tribute and just about everything at the Underground Stage.]

I said I would revisit Days Two and Three of this year’s edition of Movement, Detroit’s Electronic Music Festival, and here I’ll stay true to my word (at least for Day Two).

After the illness of the night prior, I woke up Sunday pleased with only a minor headache, and decided to forego both Julius the Mad Thinker and the electrobass showcase in favor of checking out Submerge, the distribution center for many Detroit labels (including Underground Resistance), seeing some art and getting a good meal.

Arriving at the festival around five, I’d also missed Seattle-identified Donald Glaude’s set, but that wasn’t considered much of a loss. That day’s music started with the beautiful sounds of Brooklyn’s Tortured Soul, who captivated the main stage with their live house/disco/funk sounds. What I found most amusing about them was that with their black slacks and tie/white shirt combo, they looked like a ska band, but their sounds were infused with the soul that the festival needed. They provided a defining moment for the festival, since they were true musical uniters. With the techno-filled lineup, there were few acts that could transcend genre and become something everyone could enjoy. Tortured Soul managed to draw everyone’s attention. Young and old, black and white, ravers and breakers all loved Tortured Soul’s output, and they were very deserving of the encore they performed. If you have a chance to see them, don’t miss out (and bring everyone you know, since I can guarantee they’ll like it).

The heat had started to let off a bit by the time Kevin Saunderson came on, providing a chance to walk the other stages. Rob Acid was plagued by the abysmal sound at the Underground Stage, while the final moments of Deadbeat and the beginning of Pascal Feos (who played the longest individual set of the festival) didn’t disappoint over at the Beatport stage, which proved to be the destination for the more glitchy, experimental sets.

Kevin Saunderson came on to the expected praise of the crowd. Since he’s always been a bit hit-or-miss, I didn’t have my expectations set at all. Saunderson killed it. From first to last record (and with early technical difficulties in between), Kevin played his crowd-friendly blend of house and techno. He managed to fit in a techno remix of Blur’s “Song 2” before moving into a more latin track mere moments later. Between his beats and the arrival of the night crowd, Saunderson left the stage with more of the same praise to which he had entered it.

After a lackluster first twenty minutes, the Orb ultimately lived up to their hype. Personally, it wasn’t so much about the Orb as much as seeing Thomas Fehlmann again. After rocking Decibel, he managed to do so once again in Detroit. He showed the same enthusiasm, and looked like he belonged among the dancing crowd not on stage. With his excess of joie de vivre, he’s truly going to outlive us all.

The night closed out with a bit more wandering around the stages. The Collabs Tour was relentless, with Speedy J and Chris Liebling bringing the beats, but after having been at the main stage for five hours it was time to see what else was going on. John Acquaviva was good, but would have been better had I not just come from the main stage. At the Underground Stage they moved into drum and bass territory, with the Planet of the Drums tour (AK1200, Dara, and Dieselboy) and Photek. How was it? Earlier I mentioned how bad the sound was at the Underground Stage. The necessary volume and low-end needed for these acts didn’t make it sound any better. Imagine the Neumos sound system in an empty swimming pool. Ugh. Unlike the hundreds packed into that area, I couldn’t tolerate being over there for more than a few moments at a time, since it was just aural oatmeal.

Better at least in intent was the J Dilla tribute. Beat prodigy J Dilla was a hero in Detroit, and his death was taken hard by the local hip-hop scene. Given 6 hours, they filled the stage with DJs, MCs and producers, out to celebrate his legacy. That was a lofty goal, but the execution didn’t live up to that at all. I tried to sit and enjoy it, but the stage lacked the spark to really hold my attention. It felt sloppy, didn’t sound that great, and in general only lived up to J Dilla in spirit.

For afterhours, the original attempt was to make a party that was a scam (it did have a great (albeit ficional) lineup though). That killed a fair amount of time before making it to Oslo to catch Stacey Pullen at Bloom, thrown by Organic. While only catching the last half hour or so of his set, I was happily impressed, since seeing him was one of my goals for the weekend. He delivered as always. Too bad the crowd was a bit off. The headliner, DJ Harvey, went in a completely different direction, moving into underground disco/proto-house territory. His track selection was impeccable (if you’re into that, which the crowd largely was), although his mixing left something to be desired.

Driving back to the hotel after checking a couple of other afterparties, I experienced another defining moment of the weekend. Derrick May’s “Strings of Life” came on the radio. While bludgeoned with Danny Krivit’s remix a few years ago, this would prove to be the only instance of the track for the weekend, and the late hour coupled with the downtown setting gave the track a new sense of gravity. It was a synaesthetic moment, a moment of clarity, with the homeless milling about, the burned out buildings standing in defiance of their neglect, and me driving down empty, trash-strewn streets, my headlights and the periodic street lamps lighting the way back to my hotel where I’d sit in the car waiting for the track to finish before heading to rest for the next day.

Carl Craig’s got a new record out under his Tres Demented alias. “Brainfreeze” is the cut for me. I especially like how unproduced it sounds — so much current techno is way too clean for my tastes, silver and gleaming like a Lexus straight off the production line. But this one sounds like it was mastered on a four-track in Carl’s bedroom, with the monitors down low so he won’t wake up his parents.

I’m really digging cheap-sounding dance music right now. Anal-retentive arrangements and slick production have their place — hey, it was Carl himself who once remarked that Kraftwerk are “so stiff, they’re funky.” But I want to hear more techno people get a little dirty. Let some of the notes drift off the grid. Play those drum parts by hand. Raise the noise floor a little. Detune your soft synths a bit and lay off the compression and mastering. Get cheap!

Portishead making a return? After a decade? Isn’t it way too late?

Before taking off for a month on the road, Schoolyard Heroes are playing an early all-ages show tonight at Neumo’s with Vaux and Sirens Sister (featuring members of Vendetta Red).

Check Lineout in the future for tour reports, and in the mean time, if you needed a good reason to catch the band one last time before they dissappear from our local calendars for a few weeks, watch their video for the song “They Live” by clicking here.

I was thinking today about the top three DJ’s I’ve never seen who I would like to come play Seattle. It was very hard to nail down my top three, but here they are.

I would LOVE to see the king of the European disco scene of the ‘70’s,

Daniele Baldelli. That’s him on the right with Grace Jones and his cohort DJ Moz Art. He was a huge influence on bringing the slinky disco sound of the Italian Riviera to the rest of Europe back in “the day”. His mix cassetes go for hundreds of dollars on GEMM. Trust me. He’s amazing. Problem is, apparently he’s afraid of flying and has only played off the European continent 3 times in his life. Maybe we could buy him a cruise around the world….

Then there’s

DJ I-F, with his dutch record store/label, Viewlexx, and his killer Mixed Up In The Hague comps, this purveyor and spinner of rare hard-disco and italo house has been known to get even the hardest idm lover to swoon in love of cheezy beats and bad euro vocals.

And last would be

Daniel Wang. Living in Berlin, Danny Wang is known for his mix of both hard and soft disco, wrapped up in a cushion of funk/electro. Many a mile has been driven to his Idealism album. Swoon…..

So tell me promoters how do we get these guys to Seattle?

I once talked with Matthew Richter (ex Con-Works) about starting a non-profit for dance music, so we could get grants from the state to bring in big international dj’s for “cultural” purposes. Except it wouldn’t have been like Decible Festival (not that i’m against IDM, but Seattle seems obsessed at times…), it would have been a monthly with a great mix of local and international DJ’s.

So Seattle, how do we “Bring It?”

It’s only been open a couple months, but Sugar, the new Capitol Hill gay nightclub, is already seeing some trouble. Last Thursday, the club’s booker and promoter, LA Kendall of Re:Launch HitGirl!, pulled all her programming after consistently butting heads with the club’s owner, George Foster.

“Week after week I was being told to slash the budget and fire people,” says Kendall. “So I set him down and I had a meeting. He started bringing up that he was upset the clientele wasn’t younger, white, gay boys and he was also expressing concern about not making enough money. He had a real problem with all the women in the DJ booth… Colby B was just nominated to be one of the Top 5 DJs in Seattle, what more could you want?”

Even though the club had been packed during it’s opening weekend (over 500 paid each night and the club’s capacity is 475), Foster still wanted to see more people, and different kinds of people. So instead of continuing to fight Foster, Kendall severed ties, pulling not only her programming (including tonight’s now cancelled “Are We Not Men” night), but also her employees. About 30 people total, she estimates.

“It was just time to go. He wants to go with a more circuty kind of feel to things. And he would ask me to try and make that work, but I don’t know anything about that. It’s not my forte, my business is a little more diverse, and I didn’t want to be a part of something that I knew was going to fail.”

I called Foster and left a message from him at the club.

Via the nice folks at Light in the Attic Records:

THE BLACK ANGELS — VIDEO SHOOT / “The First Vietnamese War”

TUESDAY, JUNE 6TH / sometime around 11:15am - 4pm
@ Northwest Film Forum (1515 12th Ave, Capitol Hill)
* diverse age range, ideally 25 to 75 years old
* No logos on clothes please
* We’re in need of 110 extras
* This is an unpaid position

SUNDAY, JUNE 4TH / sometime around 8pm - 2am
@ Ballard Athletic Club (2208 NW Market St, Ballard)
* Wear gym clothes (no logos please), please bring up to 3 sets of gym clothes
* We’re in need of around 10 athletic-looking extras
* This is an unpaid position

If interested in either shoot, please email Sandy Wilson:
burnt_lambcaster@hotmail.com

You’re broke. That sucks. But the Crocodile totally feels your pain and tonight’s rock show is completely free!

Panda & Angel, the Young Sportsmen, Math & Physics Club, Ghost Stories… they’re all playing for absolutely nothing. Here’s what Miss Barbara Mitchell had to say in this week’s paper:

PANDA & ANGEL, YOUNG SPORTSMEN, MATH & PHYSICS CLUB, GHOST STORIES
(Crocodile) Ghost Stories’ Ron Lewis has one heck of a resumé: He’s toured as a member of the Fruit Bats and Joggers, played in Colin Meloy’s old band back in Missoula, and made a racket with the Dismemberment Plan’s Joe Easley in D.C. Even more impressive is the music he creates as Ghost Stories: imminently catchy, bouncy, breezy indie pop that’s brainy but not self-conscious; immaculate but not fussy. The record won’t be out until August, but one exposure is all it takes to fall under the infectious spell of Lewis’s smartly crafted tunes. You’ll be humming “Even a Vampire” to yourself all summer long. BARBARA MITCHELL

And if that doesn’t quite do it for ya, Two Gallants are playing at Neumo’s tonight with Murder by Death and William Elliott Whitmore. It’s an all-ages show, it starts at 7pm and costs $10.

TWO GALLANTS, MURDER BY DEATH
(Neumo’s) Murder by Death are as audacious as the 1976 Neil Simon flick from which they nicked their name, but eminently more entertaining. Who knew Indiana grew ‘em so weird? Counting cello and piano among their primary instruments, the band unfurl sordid tales of criminals, misfits, and all-around screw-ups on their third album, In Bocca Al Lupo (produced by Jawbox vet J. Robbins). The ensemble’s madcap midway vibe will appeal to fans of Firewater and the Bad Seeds, and although singer Adam Turla tends to gnaw his consonants à la Stan Ridgway of Wall of Voodoo, MBD share a knack for cinematic originals that rivals the latter’s best, too. KURT B. REIGHLEY

Which will you choose?

And it doesn’t get any more mind-blowing than Liza Minnelli covering Donna Summer with a full dance production number from an old tv special. Almost makes one want to ride the white horse all the way back to Studio 54! Enjoy!

Hat tip to one of the best rare disco blogs out there Disco Delivery. This site has tons of fantastic rare disco mp3’s for free!

Local songwriter Josh Tillman: Soon to join the impressive roster of Fargo Records.

The Kinks: Added to the list of the recently reunited.

The Slits: Back in the studio, with contributions from the children of the Sex Pistols and the Clash.

Sabrosa Purr: Next buzz-worthy band, according to myself and these cats.

Seattle’s own U.S.E. and other touring bands: In possession of yet another reason to despise George W. Bush.

The lineup for this year’s Endfest has been announced: Red Hot Chili Peppers, Modest Mouse, Snow Patrol, Wolfmother, Eagles of Death Metal, Rock Kills Kid, Nine Black Alps, the Subways, and the Gossip.

Tickets go on sale June 10th at 10 am. The show is on Saturday, August 12th at White River Amphitheatre.

Billings, Montana. Right lane ends. North Dakota spillings.

I-90 to 94 E. Daydreaming crow. Shapes in the clouds. Dragons mostly. And Santa Claus. Music is Prefuse 73, Lambchop, CAN, and Tom Vek – We Have Sound.

Head Like a Kite here, heading to New York. Getting ready for 17 consecutive nights of shows. Colstrip, Montana - We’re stopped on the side of the freeway for a phone interview with a newspaper in Denver. Reception fades in and out. The Doppler effect shifts the pitch of the passing engines. Everything is a road.

Photos: Marlon Schaeffer

Is it me, or does it seem like the more dangerous a truck’s cargo, the worse the driver is. Airline fuel, lighter fluid. The highly flammable silver triple length trailer with warning signs all over it – who decided to give that load to Hank? You’re on a downhill S turn, and there’s Hank. Hank’s had 6 DUI’s, he’s eating an Arby’s roast beef, he’s got a Bugs Bunny dvd playing, and he’s looking at a Hustler. Metallica’s ‘Master of Puppets’ is on, it’s pouring rain and he’s been driving for 18 hours straight.

Photos: Dan Tyler

Hank is into knives and porn. He’s the adult shop cowboy star. Can’t this guy drive the hay truck or make some sort of bulk napkin delivery? I mean, he gets in fights at his son’s Cub Scout meetings. Come on.

As far as that S turn, you ain’t gonna pass him, Hank’s a bulldawg, he owns it. He don’t care. Jack it up, get it up, and throw it down. Fight, fish, install turbo, and survive.

I don’t think gun racks and Eminem mix. Let’s get Hank off the road and into a bass fishing rodeo colony for NASCAR addicted cartoon watching wrestlers.

Columbus, Montana – Gas: $2.75 a gallon. Los Angeles, California – Same gas: $3.52. Supply and demand? Our money goes toward some oil man and his yacht. Vote Bush, vote Hank. Get out the Hustler and speed.

Photos: Dan Tyler

Trent - out.

Jamie Lidell in Portland. Perhaps not so timely a post, as Memorial Day weekend is long gone, but here are my poignant afterthoughts:

I arrived on the scene (Holocene) in Portland Friday night for Lidell’s pre-Squatch show. It was the third time this year that I’d seen him perform. As always, I was vibrating with excitement to see my modernist Motown muse, and I had not a care in the world since Chop Suey didn’t sell out the last time he performed. Well god-damn-it if they weren’t completely sold-out, leaving me standing outside like a completely devastated jackass.

But then… in a ridiculous turn of events, a bleach-blonde beauty queen complete with tiara threw her arms emphatically into the air, blurting, “Next person I see gets my extra ticket!” I’m a delayed reaction-type person, but my friend with insane reflexes shoved me violently within a split second, sending me careening into this poor girl. It had the desired impact, because I got in, much to the chagrin of all the other jackasses left pouting outside. Happy Birthday, O Merciful and Unnamed Bleach-Blond Beauty-Queen at Holocene.

Anyway, here’s the goods: Lidell was exhausted. He had just flown in from London on whatever ghastly leg of his tour, but he still managed to take the crowd to its knees. Charmed snakes we were. All of Holocene was like one big woven basket of mesmerized fools. The Portland show was far more improvised and vocally experimental than both the recent Chop Suey gig and last Sept’s Neumos show. Just like at Sasquatch, from what I’ve seen on Line Out, Lidell donned his gold brocade and made us all feel like we were snug in his smoking parlor. In line with this more playful persona, he dabbled far more with scat and analogue synths than he did beat-boxing and bass loops. It was bliss, but I have to say, I missed the Seattle shows’ heavier elements and the way they left me feeling laid out and lusty.

Utterly sweet and unpretentious as always, getting aspiring vocalists from the crowd to sing parts from “Multiply,” he gushed about how it was his favorite part of the show to hear us sing. It was all very touching, but there was a bittersweet end to all this, as I knew that Lidell saved “Multiply” for his encore. I’m thinking perhaps he was tired and didn’t feel like the dog-and-pony show and was hoping the crowd would sense that it was his encore, but he never left the stage… so when he did actually leave the stage, the crowd erupted all over itself to get him back out, but he never reappeared, much to the disappointment of salivating fans. Moral of the story: musicians—don’t assume. Leave the frickin’ stage before your encore, that is, unless you want to torture your fans to tears as they stomp and scream for you to “come back around.”

Whatever.

One could sugar-asphyxiate on this level of eye candy.