Here’s the show at 20/20 Cycle, Sun Jan 20, 8 pm, 2020 E Union St.

Ashley and Eli (from LAKE)
Christy (from Berkeley)
1985 (from Seattle)
Aaron Roche

Here’s how the show was explained to me:

“Christy is a little like early Pedro the Lion, very
beautiful, sad lion vocals. I don’t really know
anything about Aaron Roche, but he is in their top
10.”
“1985 is the project of Matt Fu, he is a hidden,
unsung hero of the Northwest underground music scene.”
“‘Ashley and Eli’ is kind of a playground for LAKE
songs to develop in before becoming ‘LAKE’ songs.”

Dammit, Jeff, you beat me! Jeff took the words right out of my mouth: last night’s Sleepy Eyes show was great.

Like him, I’ve liked Sleepy Eyes of Death for awhile—I like the songs they posted on their Bands Page, like their record Street Lights for a Ribcage—but until last night, I had never seen the band live, so it was hard for me to really, really like them.

Turns out, they’re fantastic live. More so than I imagined them to be, even, with live drumming and guitar pairing up with their extensive keyboard/moog/synth set-up.

With these videos I took, the sound is as good as sound can be with a little point and shoot digital (read: not that good), but more than hearing the music (which is clearly just too big for the camera’s mic), you can get a good idea of what the band does with smoke machines and a crazy light set up to intensify their performances.

The band blew a fuse three times during their 40 minute set, but they recovered quickly. They also apparently set off the fire alarm at Vera the last time they played there. Sleepy Eyes of Death are dangerously electric. They’re very un-green. But I will see them again, even if it means a baby seal has to die every time I do.

The Long Ranger opened the show and while I only caught the last three songs, I liked what I heard and saw, despite the fact I’m not usually into electro-rock ballads.

The floor was empty while they played, most people paid attention from the seats in the back, but for their last song, the band took the show from the stage to the dance floor. Even the stubborn dudes standing at the bar started moving for a few minutes.

The Long Ranger brought a laid back, sexy, sophisticated electro dance party more refreshing than anything I’d seen at a club in months. It was all the best parts of New Order mixed with a twinge of Phoenix and completed perfectly by brother/sister vocal harmonies. You may recognize keyboardist/singer Sylvia Chen from Velella Velella, another one of Seattle’s finest electro dance acts. The Long Ranger is less of a funk band and more of a pop one than VV though – basically the whole set felt like the scene in Lost In Translation where everyone is dancing to “Too Young.” At the end of the show the band expressed their desire to play a house party next, and I hope I find out when they do. Although the sound and atmosphere of Showbox Sodo is above average, there’s just no substitute for seeing a group like this in the confines of a living room instead of a huge room full of people sitting down.

It had been a while since I’d last caught Sleepy Eyes of Death, at least since before their full length Street Lights for a Ribcage came out. Although already impressive in their beginnings, SEOD have really ramped up their game lately. Their live sound is impeccable, every note and beat falling perfectly into the sound spectrum. The lights and fog are really a gimmick that’s never going to get old – they perfectly set the mood for the band’s futuristic shoegaze. I was ready at any moment during the show for Harrison Ford to burst through the door and kill a Daryl Hannah robot right in front of me. I don’t think the band would have flinched if it had happened.

The caliber of Sleepy Eyes of Death’s live show has moved way past “good local electronic band.” They have created one of the most impressive live experiences of anyone in town.

Yesterday, I watched this delirious Corey Haim interview (circa 2080). The video seems meant to assure fans that he’s not high on pills, despite the fact that he’s clearly high on pills. One of many golden moments occurs around the 3 minute mark, when Haim, after demoing his rack of Roland drum machines and synthesizers, declares, mouth all a-twitchy: “As far as what I really like in today’s music…um…I’m Into the New…I’m Into that Japanese Funk.”

Well, we all had a good laugh at Corey’s expense. Then today, I checked in over at the excellent mp3 blog Headphone Sex, and discovered—to my horror—that Haim was right. Prescient even, like Flosstradamus. Right there at the top of the page were the words “Future funk” and this new video, “AZZAZZA,” from Japanese artist Zongamin (he of the dance-floor killer “Bongo Song”):

Still, it is way more groovy than that track Corey was working on.

Prison Break: Foxy Brown’s hoping to get out of jail and go to California to get a damaged ear implant repaired.

What Would Happen if They Cancelled the Grammy’s?: It could happen.

Gonna Kick ‘Em Out: Two-thirds of the Jam will tour the US later this month (and they’ll be in Seattle February 1st).

Rush is Also Touring Again: And they’ll be at the Gorge May 31.

Ryan Adam is Single: And he’s wearing his broken heart on the internet.

RIP Clyde Otis: The man who wrote “What a Diff’rence a Day Makes” is dead at 83.

On Monday, Kimya Dawson is Gonna…: …appear on The View!?!

Taken by soundonthesound.

Add your own show and music photos to the Stranger’s Flickr Pool.

It looks like a spaceship. A pretty, pretty spaceship.

The Teenagers are at Neumo’s tonight with the Pharmacy—there’s both a Stranger Suggest and a preview for that show. From this week’s Fucking in the Streets:

The Teenagers are assholes. Young, snotty, spoiled, afterpartying, chauvinist, hipster assholes. At least that’s the impression you get from their music.

Their breakout single, “Homecoming,” was one of the catchiest underground singles of 2007, an infectious teen-dream romance that came with an appropriately gauzy, softcore, super-8 video. The song is a he-said/she-said summer fling in the style of Grease, with the suave European protagonist hooking up with a vapid, tan American cheerleader—her: “I loved my English romance”; him: “I fucked my American cunt.” Touché.

And now, tonight’s U&C choices:

Spindrift, Pablo Trucker, the Vandelles, This Blinding Light
(Comet) The crappy thing is there are a zillion bands named Spindrift and 99 percent of them are Hawaiian-shirted jam bands. The sweet thing is the Spindrift that hits the Comet tonight is a seven-piece psych-spaghetti-western combo from L.A. with a powerful aversion to tropical prints and noodly solos. Think Ennio Morricone meets Lee Hazlewood in a desert peyote ritual as depicted in an Oliver Stone flashback sequence. Which isn’t far from the truth: Spindrift scored The Legend of God’s Gun, a low-budget 2007 homage to Sergio Leone’s classic outlaw/bandito flicks with a soundtrack exactly like you’d imagine. Spindrift’s music is as stark and evocative as the Western setting it’s inspired by, hewing close to all things dusty, reverby, stubbly, and twilit. It’s the sound of heading off into the sunset after swallowing the worm. JONATHAN ZWICKEL

Circle Jerks, Last of the Believers, Hit Me Back
(El Corazón) We all know that Circle Jerks frontman Keith Morris was a cofounder of and the original singer for Black Flag. And we all know that Morris ditched Black Flag to form the Circle Jerks, and that in 1980 (the year of my birth) they released one of ’80s hardcore’s greatest albums, Group Sex, containing the perfect anthem for the self-destructive teen or twentysomething: the minute-long “Live Fast, Die Young.” And we all know that the Circle Jerks have broken up and gotten back together many times since then. But what we don’t know is whether the Circle Jerks’ raw, youthful energy of 1980 can be recaptured 28 years later—and whether it’s worth $15 to find out. KIM HAYDEN

“Awesome”, Half Brothers
(Jules Maes Saloon) The last time “Awesome” played Neumo’s, opening for BOAT and Harvey Danger, I wrote about the show on Line Out, although I didn’t write about the “Awesome” set, because I’d showed up too late to see it. A Line Out commenter commented: “It’s tragic that this article didn’t address the amazing show that is/was “Awesome.” When seven slightly older guys take to the stage and only one of them is holding a guitar amongst the trumpets, clarinets, saxophones, mandolins, banjos, etc. etc. etc., you may panic, but it was so much fun and so funny….” For years I’ve been given a hard time for writing about “Awesome” too much; suddenly I’m getting a hard time for not writing about them enough. They have been twice shortlisted for a Stranger Genius Award. Their fans include Jonathan Safran Foer and Miranda July. Their sound is a mix of bong pop, prog rock, light (white?) soul, and carnival-falling-down-a-stairwell. This is the first time they’ve ever played Georgetown. CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE

Wild Orchid Children, Alligators, Return of the Bison, Trip the Light Fantastic, the Crash Engine
(Viaduct) Trip the Light Fantastic play intriguing instrumentals. Beautiful instrumentals, really, with a Seattle-circa-1999 sound. Think wordless waxwing, think Juno’s early turbulent stuff—think epic breakdowns echoing from Sit & Spin’s showroom while you’re stupidly in the front room playing Sorry with your friends and eating pizza. This is worth leaving the Sorry game to see, even if you’re ahead. Sometimes (in the song “Trip the Light,” for example) it’s staccato and playful guitar that drives the tune. Other times it’s dramatic piano. In the song “RAGNAROK,” it’s a riff that blasts during the intro and then falls into a psychedelic jam session. Vintage sound bites of men talking about strange things make their way into a few of Trip the Light Fantastic’s compositions, and while I’m still unsure how I feel about that (is it really necessary?), their raw orchestration is enough to keep me listening until I decide for sure. MEGAN SELING

Larry Mizell says in this week’s My Philosophy:

Don’t be daunted by the state of hip-pop; on Saturday, January 19, get a full dose of the good stuff. Hit the Vera Project for the Massive Monkees League Tournament B-Boy Jam. Observe experts of the culture doing what they do best in a controlled setting. Relax and take notes.

Christopher Delaurenti suggests:

MESSIAEN CENTENARY
The Cathedral Organist, Soloists, and Chamber Orchestra get the jump on everyone else and celebrate the 100th birthday of Olivier Messiaen (1908—1992) with one of the French composer’s many masterpieces for solo organ, Le Banquet Céleste, and the Trois Petites Liturgies de la Présence Divine. Impractically scored for chamber orchestra, piano, women’s chorus, and the eerie, wailing ondes Martenot, Trois Petites Liturgies shimmers with tiptoeing rhythms, frothy piano chords, and blissed-out, surreal chanting. I’m also keen to hear the Suite for Ondes Martenot and Piano by Darius Milhaud and a section of Pli Selon Pli by one of Messiaen’s most renowned students, Pierre Boulez. Call ahead for good seats. St. James Cathedral, 804 Ninth Ave, 382-4874, 8 pm, students pay as able/$22 suggested donation.

And finally, the Coconut Coolouts are at Liberty and Pleasureboaters and Partman Parthorse are at the Funhouse, but we ran out of room to say so in the paper. That’s what Get Out, our calendar is for.

The Schoolyard Heroes are in Cleveland, they just played the venue called Peabody’s. Apparently, they had some interesting guests show up. Here’s a text message exchange the band just sent from the road:

The Insane Clown Posse/Psychopathic Records wrestling team is at our show. They have championship belts with them. Hahahahaha!!!!

Whoa! Are they in make up?

No, but they have the craziest ICP gear on. It’s like an ignorance convention.

No pictures, but there’s this video to help you better imagine the scene:

Carry on.

Charles Bukowski, the muse behind:

“All the men that hang around they are prayin they are free/All the women that hang around are lookin for a Bukowski.”
“Two Girls (One Bar)” by Pere Ubu

“You’ll never touch the magic if you don’t reach out far enough.”
“Charles Bukowski’s Dead” by the Boo Radleys

“And she’s been reading Bukowski for days/Leans over, spits her name in my face.”
“In the City” by Razorlight

“Kickstart and turn me over/Punchdrunk, but I’m still sober/Bukowski’s on my shoulder/With much to think.”
“Fueled” by Anthrax

“Much like Bukowski with a rage/Speakin’ to page.”
“Feels So Good” by 311

“I was reading Fanté at the time/I had Bukowski on the mind.”
“Album of the Year” by the Good Life

“We’ll drive away in your car/In the nighttime pacific shore/I’ll be Bukowski, you’ll be Helen of Troy.”
“Helen of Troy” by Tugboat Annie

“She dangled that carrot, then asked me, ‘What would Bukowski do?’/Don’t go there, he’d make you his Mom/And then completely lie about it in a book later on.”
“Got Up This Morning” by Sage Francis

“That faded rose that’s all dried out/Those Bukowski poems we couldn’t live without/Your high school picture when you had wild hair/That stormy day on the beach that got us here.”
“It’s Just Me” by Bon Jovi

“I’m on the porch because I lost my house key/Pick up my book, I read Bukowski.”
“Mellowship Slinky in B Major” by Red Hot Chili Peppers (Gross.)

And then, of course, there’s all the song titles that address him, all the songs he’s inspired without being directly mentioned, and all the records and bands that have been named after his work… It’s hard to think of another man (who wasn’t/isn’t a musician) who’s inspired so much music. Not all good music, mind you, but it’s still impressive.

Anyway, can anyone compete? Ronald Regan, maybe? He might be able to compete.

Taken by tae.rhee at Apt #1325, the band’s Monday Night residency at Chop Suey.

Via CBSnews.com:

Stacey Gayle recalled, 18 months ago, being at a barbecue and collapsing when the Jamaican rapper Sean Paul’s music started playing, and then remembered having a previous seizure when she had heard his music. “I would get that aura before that song would come on,” she said.

Music wasn’t the only trigger, but it was an important one.

“I was just having seizures, just found it was triggered by music,” she said.

It was Sean Paul first, and then others.

Read the full, fascinating, weird story at CBSnews.com.

And then watch this video to see if you suffer from the same condition:

Shit. FUCKING SHIT!

Rob Bailey and the New Untouchables (I got my eye on you Mr. Ringgold!) gets ALL the groovy, every time, don’t they! The Sonics are playing this years Le Beat Bespoke weekender!

Le Beat Bespoke 4- Easter Bank Holiday, March 21- 23 2008

Dammit, will Seattle EVER get the SONICS?

Let the Bowies Hit the Floor:

Back inside, the party is collapsing on itself. It’s late, and as soon as the music stops, people start yelling. Swimming toward the exit, a pile of bodies crashes to the floor in front of me. There is no room to move. The mood is anxious and exhilarated, volatile. After escaping, we all agree this is one of the wildest parties any of us have ever beheld.

Last week’s party was insane - let’s have more of that. We can only crash your party if you tell us where and when to go. Email partycrasher@thestranger.com with the details and your party can live on in infamy forever.

The Sea Navy (Jay Cox, no relation to Dewey Cox) was our special guest on this week’s Setlist. He played three songs live in our “studio” (read: Nancy’s office), including one tune written exclusively for Setlist listeners (you’ll have to listen to hear it).

We also talked about Ween, huffing gas, eating sandwiches, and urinary tract infections. Then we play some music and the playlist goes like this:

The Hands “Lies Lies Lies”
TacocaT “UTI”
Partman Parthorse “At the Mall”
Weener “Spinal Meningitis”
Lonesome Rhodes & the Good Company “Oh, Sweet Death”
The Intelligence “Dating Cops”
The Resets “Downtown”

Honest to God it’s a great show. Listen!

And because you’ve been good all week, here’s a video of the Sea Navy performing in our offices:

In my column this week, I talk to Quentin Delafon, lead singer for loveable assholes the Teenagers, who make their US debut tomorrow night at Neumo’s, with the Pharmacy and, um, some DJs. Of course, not everything fit in the column. Here’s some stuff that got cut:

Delafon on growing up on the outskirts of Paris:

It was really quiet, nothing special. You know, a scooter and a little mischief in suburbia. Nothing really crazy. It was really a nice time, and that’s why we are nostalgic about it.

Michael and Dorain were having some kind of band stuff, but nothing really going anywhere. I wasn’t really involved in music back then. I really liked music, but I wasn’t making any myself.

Dorian and Michael have been playing bass since they were 10 or 15 or something. But there was not really a music scene there. A lot of people in our high school were listening to reggae, but we’ve never really been keen on that kind of stuff. We didn’t get any influence from that, for sure. Thank god.

On their live show:

[At first] we were playing with just the three of us and an iPod. But I think US standards are a bit higher, so we decided to get some people to play with us. We have a girl playing second guitar, and a nice drummer girl, as well, and we still have a laptop for some of the backing tracks.

On recording with Strokes producer Gordon Rafael but not using the results for debut album Reality Check:

In the end, we decided just to keep what we did with LEXX, because it makes more sense than to just have bits and pieces with Gordon Rafael. Working with LEXX just sounded better. LEXX really understood how we wanted everything to sound, and all four of us just worked really hard to make something we are proud of. We used a lot of the vocals from the old demos that we made with Dorian in Paris so that we could get that DIY feeling. Our demos were what got us heard in the first place, so we didn’t want it to sound over-produced, because it wouldn’t match.

The Teenagers play Sat Jan 19 at Neumo’s, 8 pm, $10, 21+.

It says so on their MySpace page.

Jonathan Davis is 37 years old today!

I still really dislike Korn.

RIP Britney: She’s not dead yet, but news organizations are preparing Britney Spears’ obituaries as she is “at risk right now”.

Lily Allen had a miscarriage: The UK singer had been expecting her first child with Chemical Brothers’ Ed Simons.

Striking out: The Grammy’s may be downsized or canceled if the strike isn’t broken; may worsen already dismal album sales. Beyonce and the Foo Fighters are confirmed to be participating regardless of their affiliation with the Screen Actor’s Guild, a brother union of the WGA.

The strike was also the reason the Moldy Peaches didn’t have that mini-reunion on Conan: Kimya canceled when John Darnielle (The Mountain Goats) advised her not to cross picket lines, but collaborating with Adam Green probably won’t happen just because of the Juno hype.

Extra Action (And Extra Hardcore): Thurston Moore does the soundtrack for a porn film and wrote a book about about No Wave.

The Pack and Pittsburgh Slim (pictured above) are at Chop Suey. From this week’s My Philosophy:

Yeah, the Pack—remember them? Those plucky young dread-shakers from the Bay who turf-danced all over ‘05 in their Vans? Oh yeah hey, “they look like sneakers,” but they feel like a pump! Or something. Opening up for this show is… Pittsburgh Slim. YO, WHO THE FUCK IS PITTSBURGH SLIM? My strictly scientific preliminary research (MySpace) indicates he’s… I dunno, like some kind of club-ready frat-boy version of Slug from Atmosphere. Like a less hardcore, glam-free TRL-ed up Mickey Avalon. Like if your little sister thought Travis from Gym Class Heroes was too gangsta.

From The Score:

FAR CORNER
What’s a jazz group without a piano? Led by saxophonist Dick Valentine, this pianoless quartet is lithe, limber, and sonically translucent. Flutist Fraser Havens adds sunny counterpoint and angular, but not obtuse, solos. With Ken Strong (bass) and Bradley Papineau (drums). Egan’s Ballard Jam House, 1707 NW Market Street, 789-1621, 7 pm, $5.

Aaaaaaaaaand from this week’s U&Cs:

Sing Sing: Spank Rock DJs Devlin and Darko
(War Room) When Spank Rock’s Chris Devlin (aka Rockswell) and Ronnie Darko rolled through town for last year’s Capitol Hill Block Party, they played to a sold-out (though not quite Girl Talk–riot sold-out) Neumo’s. Since then, they’ve shared stages with everyone from Björk to Ghostface and rocked continents from South America to Australia. Sing Sing, though, is like a home away from home for the duo, where they’ll be flanked by DJ Pretty Titty, who might’ve been Seattle’s earliest proponent of all things Spank, and turntable wiz-kid Fourcolorzack, whose resemblance to Diplo, both in appearance and party-rocking finesse, is uncanny. Mr. Titty promises not only “rampant ass shaking, air-horn blowing, [and] stage diving,” but also, somewhat troublingly, “the occasional Parrot Bay and Mountain Dew.” Watch out. ERIC GRANDY

Plaid, Truckasauras, Nordic Soul, DJ Introcut
(Nectar) Warp Records mainstays Andrew Turner and Ed Handley have been producing forward-thinking techno for over 15 years, both as Plaid and with the highly influential if not as well-known trio the Black Dog. Their Plaid productions tend toward fey, ambient instrumentals, while their older Black Dog work includes some dance-floor-busying beats. Truckasauras seem like an odd choice for an opener—these guys make dumb, beer-swilling, backyard-wrestling techno, right? But their steel-crushing chiptunes are surprisingly deep and melodic—intelligent, if not exactly IDM. Plus, they share Plaid’s fondness for multimedia performance (Plaid’s latest release, Greedy Baby, is a DVD with animator and longtime collaborator Bob Jaroc; Truckasauras have VHS jockey Dan Bordon). Opener Nordic Soul mixes minute sonic details and finely tuned synths with steady, pulsing rhythms for a sound as satisfying on the dance floor as it is for the wallflowers. Killing Frenzy provides the live visuals. ERIC GRANDY

And finally, Citay is at the Sunset. From this week’s preview by Jonathan Zwickel:

Let’s get stupidly, nerdily reductivist. Here’s why you will love Citay: Citay = Led Zeppelin’s “Battle of Evermore” + Black Sabbath’s “Planet Caravan” + Pink Floyd’s “Fearless.” Yes, using mathematical formulas to describe music is hackneyed as fuck. Yes, boiling down a band as dynamic as Citay to three base influences is demeaning. The thing is, the phrase “prog-folk-metal” will put off just about anyone, and Citay—a prog-folk-metal nine piece from San Francisco—deserve as broad an audience as possible. Just about anyone can understand an elementary equation. And in this case, the equation is dead-on.

And I, personally, am stoked to see Sleepy Eyes of Death tonight at Showbox SODO. Not familiar? Click here to listen to their electronic heart attack “Eyes Spliced Open” via their Stranger’s Bands Page. Then you’ll be convinced.

Finished music video here.

(thanks to hot tipper Parker)

Last night I was watching a DVD of the Decemberists playing a show in Portland in 2005, although I was only half-watching because I was also reading. At the ideal Decemberists concert, you would be able to read during the show. There would be a copy of Moby Dick and a little book light at your seat. It would not be considered rude. The last time I saw live music at the Moore, I left my seat and climbed to the top of the balcony and lay on my back on the concrete behind the very highest row of seats, very close to the ceiling, and felt the 101-year-old building vibrate against my spine. The Moore, Seattle’s preeminent site of opulence in decay, where the band is playing in two weeks, is perfect for the Decemberists’s antique anxieties.

But I really like the new Rings CD.

RINGS
Black Habit
(Paw Tracks)
***

Though they probably mean it as a joke, the “jungle” description on Rings’ MySpace page isn’t that far off. The female trio’s first album as Rings (they were formerly known as First Nation), Black Habit’s concoction of field noises, chanting, singing, and layers of instrumentation (piano, synthesizer, drums, guitar, tambourine, etc.) sounds weirdly tribal, almost ritualistic. They’re noises that would make the most sense in another world—in the middle of the threatening, dizzyingly thick jungle.

In the third track, “Is He Handsome,” one girl starts gasping, and the noise is awful. It sounds like she’s dying; it sounds like she’s breaking the surface of water just long enough to take the one breath before being pulled back under. The gentle (albeit haunting) harmonies take the edge off, but only for a second. Then the rest of the environment attacks, swarming with synthesizers that sound like tiny, scary creatures. The gasping gets worse, more desperate, and a voice asks with giddy panic, “Is he handsome? Is he handsome?” The reply: “I want to run, I want to leave, I want to escape from fear.” And so it goes for many more minutes.

Only two songs on the eight-track disc come in under the five-minute mark. But the beginnings and the ends of each track are unclear (only a subtle, quick break in beat patterns suggests a new song has begun), so that the entire record feels circular, appropriately, like a ring. It’s a lot to take in.

But while the noise sculptures on Black Habit constantly verge on overbearing, Rings carefully keep things just slightly more intriguing than off-putting. You won’t want to turn it off until you know the gasping girl is okay, and even then you may never be sure.

Click here to hear “Is He Handsome” (via My Big Mouth Strikes Again).

How do you kill your hangover?

Someone help. Golob? Are you there?

Liquor and beer have been plural. The electricity in my brain is firing 5.1 surround road-kill.

Goody’s Headache Powder is the quickest cure I know. It’s powder that comes in this little packet. Dump into the back of your throat and follow with water. You may gag but the powder gets into your system quicker. Acetaminophen, aspirin, and caffeine are the active ingredients. It’s made for race car drivers who crash into walls. Their spokesperson is Richard Petty. #43. He’s crashed many cars. He’s had many beers. He is a svelte, convincing, pied piper of a redneck man. If he says Goody’s is what I should take, I’m taking it.

** Update: There is an English man sitting in front of me. He’s talking about his ‘travels’ and his ‘thesis’ and his ‘flat’ and ‘extreme cycling’. His accent is fake. I think he said he’s originally from here. He’s too fucking fancy. In a way, I want to sock him. That’s probably not OK, is it Golob?

If a post is in the morning and has anything to do with South by Southwest, then it should be called a breakfast taco. If you’ve done the four-day fest before, you understand that the above taco doesn’t look gross—it looks like hangover heaven. And I don’t just mean booze recovery; the only way to overcome each of the full days and nights of music (day parties, house parties, official 6th Street showcases, post-showcase warehouse parties way out on the east side) is by way of chorizo, egg, cheese, hot sauce, lard-filled flour tortilla, and foil wrapper.

So let’s pop an Aspirin and unwrap the first breakfast taco of the year. What’s hiding in it? Looks like sausage…potato… and holy hot tits, it’s Dolly Parton!

This announcement, of course, forces me to wonder why it is I never bothered going to see her at a megadome or stadium before. Maybe I needed a few years to get past the cosmo-country material and 9 to 5; maybe I was too busy looking at her chest to look into her eyes. Whatever, redemption is coming my way in March.

Dolly’s among the 250+ acts semi-confirmed in the first big SXSW band list posted yesterday by the Austinist. The site picks a few highlights as well (X, Constantines, Q-Tip, David Banner?), but do take the time to flip through the rest. A few thoughts: Portland’s in full effect (Blitzen Trapper, YACHT, and so on). Jandek’s in full effect for the second year in a row, and the person who approved the famed recluse’s return must’ve seen a different set last year than I did. Daryl Hall’s in full effect, but Oates is not—WHA??? And though this Texas boy apologizes in advance for missing any other local names [EDIT: like Fleet Foxes, see above, slap forehead, Sam], congrats to Feral Children and The Lonely H on their SXSW invites—hope they don’t stick you guys in Spyro’s at 8 p.m. on a Wednesday. That place has a goddamned bubble machine on its roof. I noticed the lack of Cave Singers, but it just seems like Matador’s held off on announcing its acts altogether (and with upcoming albums from Malkmus and Cat Power, ya gotta wonder).

Anybody gonna bother driving/flying down for this? Anybody wonder what the hubbub is about? I’d like to know; as a SXSW addict of nearly eight years now, I’ll address both of those in posts to come.

** Update: This show is tonight - Friday, Jan 18th.

Also on the bill Friday at the Tractor will be Zera Marvel and Shane Tutmarc. Zera has just finished recording a full length album. She sings low and serenely. The compositions are dark and long. There are gothic turns in her stoic stance and she shades country into night.

Zera talked about her recording and the show on Friday:

Are you psyched for Friday? That is such a good bill.
Zera: I am excited and nervous. Sometimes I get nervous about shows. Sometimes I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight.

I will be playing with a full band:

Graig Markel - guitar, Johnny S. Bliss - drums, Doran Bastin - bass, Jon Hyde (Transmissionary Six) - pedal steel guitar, and Greg Panto (the Bad Things) - banjo.

Photo: Troy Critchlow. Styling: Bellatrix Studio.

What are the first thoughts out of your head about the recording you just did?
To say I took my time recording this CD is kind of an understatement, but it took a while to find my direction. Have you ever seen the movie Driver 23 / The Atlas Moth? It is a documentary about an obsessive compulsive musician that plays in a really bad metal band, and it takes him about 7 years to record a CD. It’s kind of like Spinal Tap but it follows a real band, which makes it more sad than funny. When I watch that movie, sometimes it hits a little too close to home!

How has it been since your previous band, Tagging Satellites broke up?
After we broke up I didn’t think I would play music again. But I can’t help myself. I struggled for a while because in some respects it is easier writing with a full band, since there are others contributing song ideas. On the other hand it has given me more confidence to do it on my own, because it proves that for better or worse I can do it.

When I first started recording this CD the songs sounded harder and darker, like old Tagging Satellites songs. And I wanted to get away from that. I started playing a lot of acoustic guitar and that helped. When I was a kid my best friend and I had a “band” called the Country Cowboys. We put on shows for our parents. We were not really a band because we lip-synced other people’s songs, none of which were country, but our characters were. I feel like I am going back to my youth a little bit with this record - making up for what the Country Cowboys lacked.

Where did you do your recording?
I recorded the songs at the Recovery Room here in Seattle with Graig Markel - which translates to: in my basement with my husband! I mixed a few songs at Tiny Telephone in San Francisco with Aaron Prellwitz. I ended up only using one of the songs on the CD though. After my trip to San Francisco I wrote a bunch of new songs that were a better fit for the direction I was going in. I probably wrote / recorded about 20 songs and was able to pick from those the ones that meant something to me.

What’s the name of the album going to be?
The name of the CD is Birds and Bullets Fly and it will be released in April. There are 10 songs. I am working on the artwork for the CD now.

Kick ass.
I will try.

From a blog on Barak Obama’s website:

I do not intend to pretend that the Insane Clown Posse and their fans have a sort of hive mind that acts as one. With the Insane Clown Posse, and any other rap group or rock band, you get what you put into it. Many people believe that the duo of loud mouth, in-your-face clowns, are little more than shock rock gurus who have taken a disaffected youth and painted it over with their own brand of antiestablishment rhetoric. I believe this is inaccurate. It is, of course, true that the lyrics feature boastfulness, belligerence, vulgarities of every nature, blasphemy, and a rejection of all things normal, however, it is also true that the band creates a puckish satire of the problems they see in the world around them. There are many songs by the Joes that are meant to be little more than entertaining, these songs make up the bulk of their music. I will argue that the tracks that focus (directly or indirectly) on their political and spiritual views are cooperative with the goals and ideals of presidential candidate Barack Obama.

The article goes on to address the topics that Juggalos and Obama agree on: Prisoner Rights, Health Care Reform, Ending the War in Iraq, and Fighting Poverty.

I was just in Spokane this week to attend a Juggalo rap concert, and was fortunate to interview several musicians and fans about what it is like to be a “Modern Juggalo” and where their scene is headed. The Juggalos I spoke to did not express love for Obama, but rather for Repulican candidate Ron Paul. Here is a snippet from an interview I did with two Juggs attending the show:

Than: We’re not a bunch of ultra-violent piss heads, dude. We’re all fuckin’ cool; we’re all family here. We don’t fit other places, and we’ve found someplace that we fuckin’ belong.

Rufus Nusto: It’s starting to be a little more accepted I think.

Than: Either that or you can fit, but you don’t want to. You see all the bullshit.

Rufus Nusto: Ron Paul for president!

Me: For real?

Rufus Nusto: I love Ron Paul. If he doesn’t win I hope he runs as somebody’s vice president. I really hope that he does get into office, he’s got some great ideas.

Me: You agree with that statement?

Than: Fuckin’ straight up.

Rufus Nusto: Most Juggalos probably do like Ron Paul because he’s against the drug war for the most part, things like meth and crack should be busted down on, but as far as marijuana goes, real natural drugs, he’s not against that.

From background, shouted: “Marijuana is not a drug, sir!”

Four people start shouting “Herb! Herb!”

My anthropological study of the “Modern Juggalo” will appear in the coming weeks.

Another great disco track that I discovered this past year, thanks to last year’s excellent German disco compilation Disco Deutschland Disco, was Jackie Carter’s 1976 single “Treat Me Like A Woman”. This nicely produced disco track was written by Jackie’s then-lover Frank Diez, who at the time was one of Germany’s most prolific guitar players, working with artists like Donna Summer and Giorgio Moroder. In “Treat Me Like A Woman”, Diez along with Producer Dieter Dierks and song arranger Peter Herbolzheimer do their best Giorgio Moroder impression in putting together a classic disco gem. Another rare find from Germany’s past disco scene.

Jackie Carter - Treat Me Like A Woman

Radiohead played a tiny show at London club 93 Feet East last night, where they performed In Rainbows in its entirety as well as some older songs. The whole thing is available for download today. The setlist:

‘15 Step’
‘Bodysnatchers’
‘Nude’
‘Weird Fishes/Arpeggi’
‘All I Need’
‘Faust Arp’
‘Reckoner’
‘House Of Cards’
‘Jigsaw Falling Into Place’
‘Videotape’
‘Up On The Ladder’
‘You And Whose Army?’
‘The National Anthem’
‘My Iron Lung’
‘The Bends’

Download available at Dead Flowers

(Hat tip to Idolator)

I don’t know much about this group, but I do know that I’m in love with this song right now. There’s something about the girls voice, and the guy, when he joins in. It’s definitely freak folk, but nice and not cloying and kooky-dooky like so much freak folk you hear these days. You know what I mean?

“Step Outside” is from The Finches album Human Like a House, which was released last year. It’s not a single, and I couldn’t find a very good copy of them performing the track on YouTube.

But I did find the video in which I heard the track for the first time. It’s from Think Thank’s snowboarding video Thanks Brain and features in this segment with Gus Engle. It shouldn’t, but it does work.

Anyways, enjoy this snippet of “Step Outside” (which begins about 16 sec. into the vid).

Jesse Sykes and her Sweet Hereafter guitar player Phil Wandscher play an acoustic set tomorrow night (Friday) at Tractor Tavern.

Phil’s left handed playing summons western country, tumbleweeds, and the gold rush. It’s 107 degrees on a dry riverbed, whisky only makes you more thirsty. Jesse says Phil’s solos are songs within the songs. Torched dry and bright. He’s more about melody and touch and imagery.

Phil spoke about his guitar and his playing:

Where do your solos come from? How do you write them? Is there a process?
Phil: I play the song over and over. What comes to mind first, I think, is what everyone would do. I try to dig through layers and get to what normally wouldn’t be played. It’s almost like I have to learn it myself and teach it to myself. I think the more you play something, the further you can take it.

Does Jesse have input?
Yeah, usually she’s right there and gives me her feedback.

What’s it like playing these songs every night? Do the songs get tired?
It’s definitely challenging to stay inspired. But I get into every song and section. It’s not something I have to make myself do. Autopilot for me isn’t just mailing it in and going through the motions. Autopilot for me is being comfortable enough with the song or the section to take the solo different places.

What kind of guitar do you play?
I play left handed so it kind of limits my options. My main guitar is a DeArmond Starfire Special. Fender made them in the 60’s. Jerry Garcia played one in the Warlocks. They were sort of cheap when they came out, then Fender bought Guild and killed the line. Now they are sought after. I’ve been looking for another one, but can’t find it.

You don’t have another one? You must baby the one you have.
When we travel, I keep it with me at all times. Flying is hard because sometimes they try to tell me I have to check it in as baggage. We were flying America West one time, seated all the way at the back of course, and the flight attendant told me I couldn’t have it in the passenger cabin. I told him I wasn’t getting rid of it. He took me and the guitar all the way up to the cockpit to talk to the pilot. We were delaying the flight. Everyone on the plane was so appalled and saying, ‘You should get rid of the guitar.’ ‘I can’t believe he’s not getting rid of his stupid guitar.’

I told the pilot the seat next to me was open and I could put it there. And when he saw that this was why the flight was being delayed he was so pissed. He said, ‘Strap that fucking thing into the open seat and let’s go!’ We were flying to Austin, TX too, a music city. I thought people would have been more understanding.

Continue reading "Nothing Mailed In But Gold" »

This is from a September, 2005 Tera Melos show review I wrote for the Bellingham magazine What’s Up!:

Tera Melos, hailing from Sacramento, Calif., was perhaps the best opening band I have ever seen at the 3B. Flailing and writhing on the floor, doing handstands off their guitars and onto their amps, and delivering some of the most intricate and creative spastic math rock I have witnessed live, they were easily the best band of the night-probably even the month. And they played first.

It was truly one of those performances I will never forget. One of the guitar players actually ran with his guitar over his head, used it to plant off the floor, spun around 180 degrees, wrapped his legs over the top of his amp, and continued paying guitar upside down like a kid hanging from monkey bars. Acrobatics aside, Tero Melos pull out some of the flashiest guitar work I’ve ever witnessed as well. Unfortunately, one of their guitar players left the band a year or two ago, which has had a bit of an impact on how crazy their sound can get. The remaining guitarist now does double duty with keyboards and guitar creating a wall of bizarre manipulated sound, so if you didn’t get to see them as a four piece you’d never really know that you were missing anything.

They play tonight at El Corazon, with Finch (who suck) and Sound the Alarm.

The Fremont Sonic Boom is having a 20% off sale now through Sunday.

I got home last night convinced I was going to call it an early(ish) night. I flipped through the channels and ended up on IFC, which was playing Don Letts’ 2005 documentary Punk: Attitude (brought up earlier in a post on best music documentaries). I caught the punk retrospective right as it was getting to the Ramones, and ended up staying up to watch the whole thing as it traversed punk’s path to the present, sucked in with all of the interviews and footage. I’m sure it’ll be showing on the IFC a few more times, but it’s also on DVD already, and I’d highly recommend it. Be warned that you’ll finish it with a long list of bands to check out (at least I did).

Here are two clips:

Kimya Dawson the celebrity: the Juno soundtrack is #3 in the charts, and NYC fans of the soundtrack are getting turned away from shows. John Norris says, “She’s a good egg that Kimya Dawson. And she was around before ‘Juno’, and will be around long after it’s gone”.

Brought to you by beer: Heineken, Amazon, the Orchard reach agreements with SellaBand to offer support for unsigned bands.

The Rolling Stones sign with Universal: The band’s contract with EMI is set to expire this year; the new deal will be for just one record.

“I Love a Computer”: Jona Bechtolt and Claire L. Evans design a MacBook case.

The Eels promote their rarities album: in a one-second commercial airing during the Super Bowl.

The man is exceptional. While his entire catalogue (including work with Sunny Day Real Estate, his work with Fire Theft, and his solo material) can be either a magnificent hit or cringe-worthy miss with me, his voice remains to be one of the most compassionate and powerful.

He’s not flaunting it—it comes out cleanly and naturally. He’s not tainting it with unnecessary flair or inflection. It’s raw and it’s huge and he’s humble and coy, and that makes it even better.

“Guitar and Video Games”

After 45 minutes of a so-so set of old and new solo material at Chop Suey last night, a crowded showroom begged him to come out and play more. They cheered for minutes—many minutes—and I wondered if he’d return. Then he did.

“I honestly feel like I don’t deserve it,” he stated into the mic, sincerely surprised that the crowd called him back “But thank you so much.”

At last night’s show he announced he just finished recording his new solo record in Spain. He’s unsure of the release date, but he’s excited about the songs. He played a few, he said one was “inspired by Gram Parsons. I’m sure you can tell.”

He said that the problem with Sunny Day lyrics is that “they’re like novels,” he said playing the old material again “felt strange,” and he said it was hard being up there “without a band.” Then he said “I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

“The Rising Tide”

It wasn’t the best set—it wasn’t like when he played the same venue two nights in a row over a year ago for New Year’s Eve 2006. Then he was flawless and performed for over and hour with and without a band. Last night’s performance was more quaint, less rehearsed.

But he did deserve that encore. He deserved it for playing last night, and for the last 15 years of being an exceptionally talented and compassionate songwriter. And for continuing to be so, after hearing a couple of the tracks last night, I’m really looking forward to his new record.

“In Circles”

(Update: It’s now the correct video posted. Duh. Sorry about that.)

Taken by Blush Photo. Find more in the Stranger’s Flickr Pool.

Some mp3s to whet your appetite, or, in the case of the Cure cover, start a flame war:

Why? - “Close to Me (Cure cover)”

Why? - “The Hollows”

Born Anchors, Shark Lake, Loving Thunder, 1-2-1-2
(Comet) It could be that I’m listening to Shark Lake on the first sunny day of 2008 (so my brain is overdosing on feel-good vitamin D), or it could be that the local band’s grungy indie rock really is reminiscent of early Built to Spill and Sebadoh in a really sincere way. I don’t know, it’s only a few songs that I’ve heard at this point, and it’s really pretty outside and they’re singing about naming a baby Rainbow so it could all just be fitting together really well and, hell, it might at least be worth it to go check ‘em out at the Comet tonight, right? 1-2-1-2 couldn’t be more different, though. I mean, I suppose they could. But anyway, they play sorta sleazy synthesizer jams with drum machines. If Shark Lake are a band from the past, they’re a band from the future. Tonight’s about time travel. 1.21 gigawatts. Warm up the DeLorean. MEGAN SELING

Sound Tribe Sector 9
(Showbox at the Market) February 2007 was the last time Sector 9 landed at the Showbox; after a first set of loopy atmospherics, the second half of the show turned into a surprising, guitar-shredding rage-o-rama. It’s common for the Bay Area quintet to teeter between swoop-and-whoosh coffee-shop electronica and dead-on, dub-inflected, breakbeat electro. When they hit the latter, the music they make is almost certainly beamed in from some other-dimensional space rave light years away. The music—purely instrumental head candy—ain’t for everyone, but with two shows in town this time around, it’s clearly for a lot. To paraphrase the title of a recent cinematic masterpiece: There Will Be Drugs. JONATHAN ZWICKEL

From The Score:

Seattle’s most enduring and unpredictable experimental music group is not named after a soft-focus 1970s porno film, as you might think. With a moniker borrowed from an Edwardian-era tobacco tin, Climax Golden Twins have been fashioning singular and brilliant music since 1994.

Core members Robert Millis and Jeffery Taylor along with occasional collaborators—including drummer Dave Abramson, Jesse Paul Miller, and Scott Colburn—sumptuously blend field recordings, odd electronics, and vintage 78 rpm records. Recently, Millis told me that CGT “have become more of an improv/rock/noise/free hillbilly/collage band with a drummer… or something like that.”

Here, they perform the song “I Fucked Chopin”:

Also:

STANLEY CLARKE
This great bassist found fame in the 1970s with one of the era’s seminal fusion outfits, Return to Forever. In those halcyon days, Clarke and Weather Report’s Jaco Pastorius redefined the bass guitar with rapid, flamenco-inspired melodic riffs. On his latest disc, The Toys of Men (Heads Up/Telarc), Clarke occasionally detours into smooth ballads but still fires up the funk. Through Sun Jan 20. Jazz Alley, 2033 Sixth Ave, 441-9729, sets at 7:30 and 9:30 pm, $27.50.

DAN DEACON AND JIMMY JOE ROCHE
Ultimate Reality (DVD)
(Carpark)

**

Dan Deacon and Jimmy Joe Roche’s new multimedia workout, Ultimate Reality, is something of an endurance test. Just how much slow-mo, stroboscopic, mirror-image, split-screen, digitally psychedelicized Arnold Schwarzenegger can you take? Forty minutes? How about if they throw in some synth drones, ring modulator freak-outs, and tribal-by-way-of–Wham City drumming?

The DVD jacks footage from the Governator’s films, editing them into a loose narrative that conflates his more macho roles (the Terminator, Conan) with those less so (Kindergarten Cop, Junior), in the hope of establishing a “dominant pansexual ubermyth.” Two sets of scrolling intertitles confuse plot points from various films (even non-Schwarzenegger joint Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure) to create a story—involving time traveling, robots, a “man-womb,” Bill and Ted’s history report—for all the unintelligible visual chaos.

There are roughly five musical movements. The first is a slow warm-up, all droning toy keyboards and acoustic drums. The second adds a slow chord progression, slide whistles, and snatches of gibberish chatter. The third adds a playful xylophone melody and turns the chatter into a rhythmic element. The fourth begins with cheap, plastic synth funk, fluttering arpeggios, and a lazy backbeat before erupting into swirling modulation and swaggering saw waves. Finally, there’s an endlessly peaking 16th-note synth-and-drum buildup.

The bonus material includes a made-in-the-mall green-screen music video for Deacon’s “The Crystal Cat” and an outtake of a crepe paper–covered Deacon playing keyboard and singing in some bedroom in front of a “Kill ‘Em All” flag while Roche dances around behind him in a magenta bodysuit and sunglasses.

The debt owed by Deacon and Roche to Paper Rad and TV Carnage is, at times, irksome—especially because Ultimate Reality seems like the C-student, class-clown imitation of those artists’ crackpot-genius culture jacking, more ironic gesture than innovative substance. This DVD will be a treat for Deacon’s dollar-store acolytes, but it’s ultimately a novelty, good for a couple viewings and visual background noise but not much else.

(Dan Deacon’s Ultimate Reality Tour Hits Neumo’s on Sunday, Jan 20th)

Megan’s post about 1996 got me thinking about the gap between how things actually were and the way we like to remember them. In 1996, I was 16, living in the suburbs, and going to shows at the Old Firehouse but usually paying less attention to the bands than to the social life. My favorite bands then were probably Jawbreaker, Rancid, Green Day, the Chemical Brothers, and Red Rocket (ask Dave at Red Light about that one). But when I look back on 1996, I imagine my own musical tastes rather differently. Jawbreaker’s still on the list, but Daft Punk and Aphex Twin replace the Chemical Brothers, Modest Mouse replaces Rancid, Sonic Youth and Bikini Kill make the list instead of Green Day (okay, maybe Green Day stays too), and so on… That’s how 1996 sounds when I think about it now, but it probably didn’t really sound that way at the time. It probably sounded a lot more like this. I guess all this is to say, thank god we don’t stay 16 forever, and: How fucking dated is that Jawbreaker video?

Monday night, the night it snowed, was the night my boyfriend kicked my ass at air hockey. He really slaughtered me. I think one match was 14 to 6 or something embarrassing like that. Once he let me win, but I’m pretty sure that was just so I wouldn’t feel like such a loser. Anyway, while we battled each other at the otherwise abandoned Game Works, where our air hockey tournament was taking place, I was taken back to 1996, one of the best years of my life.

That was the year I watched Empire Records at least once a week, the year I learned to drive (and subsequently listened to the radio a lot since the car my sister and I shared didn’t have a CD player), and the year I desperately wanted to get my eyebrow pierced.

While we rehydrated with Diet Coke, Goo Good Dolls’ “Name” played over the speakers in the bar. Then after that, they played “Take a Picture” by Filter which wasn’t actually on the radio in 1996, but their song “Hey Man Nice Shot” was. It was the weirdest time warp. At the weirdest place. While it snowed outside. It felt like a dream.

Had I stuck around longer, I’m sure the rest of the soundtrack would’ve sounded a lot like this:

Nada Surf “Popular”

Superdrag “Who Sucked Out the Feeling”

Gin Blossoms “Til I Hear it From You”

Dishwalla “Counting Blue Cars”

I’ll never know, though. There was more air hockey to be played.