The SnowGhost Music Blog

The Scene Binge Begins

Tue, 18 Nov 2008 02:23:00 +0000

The Sea and Cake have been around for a long time. Since I was in high school, I think, which is exactly what I meant by the last sentence. They were one of those bands that people always told me about but I never got around to actually seeing live. This is largely due to spending a healthy majority of my life in Miami, a black hole of a music scene and a bit of a stretch for any bands not headlining arenas. Every now and then I’d get lucky, but most of the smaller bands or artists that I liked never made it south of Atlanta or Gainesville. I understand that many Americans live in rural areas where no bands ever go, which I’m sure is difficult for music-loving youngsters, but Miami is different because it is a big city with a small town selection of music.

I was fully reminded of this last week in Boston when I randomly bumped into an old friend of mine from Miami at The Sea and Cake show at the Middle East. He was in town visiting his fiancée for barely a week, and he couldn’t believe how many shows he was preparing to see. He actually coat checked his luggage after coming straight from Logan.

“Dude,” he said, “You must come here all the time. There are shows every night here!”

”Sure,” I said, though that’s not exactly true. I live an hour and change from either Boston or Providence. Laziness and the inefficient gas economics of my cargo van usually keep me from becoming a regular in either scene. But hearing the enthusiasm and wonder in the voice of an old indie-loving friend who had struggled equally through the dearth of quality shows in a major market has got me calendar circling once more. This will of course provide ample blog fodder for me as I provide you with wildly inconsistent and barely coherent analysis of the shows I see on my new solid music scene binge of the Northeast. Heck, we’ve even got our own Portland out here up in Maine, though I think it is officially frozen from now until April. And speaking of officially, let’s go ahead and get started with our music scene binge analysis.

Highlights from The Sea and Cake show at the Middle East in Boston

- The venue itself! Finally a decent sound at comfortable levels. Some shoe-gazers were prudently sporting ear plugs, but I kept mine in my pocket. Cheers as well to good beers on tap and a TV behind the bar so we didn’t have to miss the thrilling conclusion to the Celtics/Hawks game between sets.

- Running into bass player/artist Eric Claridge before the show. Not only is Claridge a way better bass player than you realize, but he’s also a very nice guy. My Miami friend swore that he had seen The Sea and Cake in Miami years ago, but Claridge helped prove my point by affirming that his band had never played there, nor would they likely be heading there anytime soon. Turns out my friend had been to a Tortoise show, which is still pretty cool for any place, especially Miami.

- Tight schedule. There were 3 bands on the bill, and they all played on time. This might make me seem even older than my earlier high-school reference, but I am secretly thrilled when bands start on time and everybody gets home at a decent hour. Of course, I didn’t actually get home at a decent hour, because when in Boston…

- The Sea and Cake are exactly as tight live as they are on their records. Though Sam Prekop’s vocals were a tad on the indecipherably soft side, the sound and the set were absolutely top notch. Nobody smashed an amp or tossed a drum stick, but the selections covered plenty of ground and got my head nodding. I was so fired up emo-style that I even spilled my beer attempting to applaud an encore song while still trying to appear slightly indifferent.

- 15 bucks. For 3 bands, one of which is indie-rock royalty, 15 dollar tickets at the door are the biggest bargain this side of a sweatshop. Not even your cheap friends can come up with an excuse for skipping shows like these. And now that I have my scene binge going, I’m giving up on excuses too.

XLR8R: In Good Company

Mon, 17 Nov 2008 23:48:00 +0000

It’s an honor to be considered in the company of producers like John Vanderslice, Efrim Menuck, and Chris Coady. This month in XLR8R magazine (http://www.xlr8r.com/magazine/122) I was featured along with indie rock’s finest, showcasing the producers, the techniques, and the studios from which they work.

John Vanderslice has been an inspiration for me with his pop-sensibility and attention to detail with not only his own work, but with others’ as well, in his role as a producer. His versatility shows in wearing many hats in the studio. I have been aware of John’s studio Tiny Telephone since I saw him at a Tape Op conference in Nawlins. At Tiny Telephone, John and Scott Solter pushed analog recording with their Neve 5316 and Studer 827 for up and coming artists in San Francisco while Digidesign, conveniently located just down the street, was taking the studio world by storm with their digital editing suite called Pro Tools. Word eventually got out and they ended up hosting the likes of Spoon, Death Cab for Cutie, Beulah, and Okkervil River.

I was actually more familiar with Efrim Menuck’s work in the band Godspeed You Black Emperor than I was with his work as a producer and studio owner. But you have to believe that with a band as sonically rich as Godspeed is, there had to be some ‘heads’ at work. I was given their album ‘Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven’ by a friend of mine back in college and was blown away by the assaulting wall of sound, which at the time was revolutionary. Efrim went on to start Thee Silver Mt Zion, in contrast to Godspeed, including vocals. Efrim’s studio Hotel 2 Tango, started as a living space, then turned into a performance space, and finally with the addition of 24 track Studer A820 tape machine and Neotek Series II console, turned into the recording studio that exists today. Bands of note that have visited are Arcade Fire, The Dears, Handsome Furs, and Wolf Parade.

Chris Coady’s work on Grizzly Bear’s Yellow House, being one of my favorites of 2006, gave me immediate respect for his treatment of layers and space. But Chris also knew how to get those punchy rock and roll sounds working with bands like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and TV on the Radio. He has been on the rise in Brooklyn for the past 6 years, collaborating with elder statesmen Blonde Redhead, who I have listened to since college as well; and now a newly furnished studio of his own called DNA. We share something in common: our love for the SSL sound. Chris and I both seem to agree that everything that comes out of the console pops. With lots of great outboard gear and a good vibe, Chris has built himself a home that many bands will feel good about.

We have been working hard here in Montana to get our name out there and looks like it’s working with write-ups like this. I guess we should stay the course. A note: There were a few misquotes in my interview as I talked via the phone with XLR8r and my responses apparently got lost in translation. First I would clarify that the bleed in the analog world not an obvious artifact (like from copper wires being close to each other) but more of an ethereal one. In fact, I would emphasize that the difference has more to do with the digital side of the things being so discreet. Second, the basic principals of acoustics are ABSPORPTION, REFECTION, and DIFFUSION.

CMJ Pro Con Fest!

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 03:32:39 +0000

The CMJ festival is officially over, which means bands can get back to playing more than 5 songs at a time, fans can stop looking at maps and schedules and worrying about guest lists, and those of us involved behind the scenes can either pat ourselves on the back and start looking forward to next year, or we can curse ourselves and vow to do a better job next time. We at SnowGhost will be patting ourselves heavily and getting our video and audio offerings ready for public consumption, but while we’re waiting for the entertainment to arrive (as CMJers are no doubt used to doing by now), we can enjoy the FIRST ANNUAL SnowGhost CMJ Pro and Con Fest!

Pro #1: New York City is a really fun place. Every time I go there, I understand how people can fall in love with the place and want to live there. There’s always something to do, some place to go to get something that you need, and somebody to talk to. From the random street crosser who flipped me off to the Vietnam vet who wanted money so he could buy us beers to share under a corner awning during a rainstorm, there’s no shortage of interesting people waiting to share their thoughts or expressions with you. There are also a ton of bands and plenty of people with excellent taste to appreciate them with. I will term this musical camaraderie, and NYC has very high levels of it.

Con #1: NYC is the strip club of city-going. No matter how much cash you bring, you end up needing to go to one of those mini-ATMs located conveniently everywhere , you just can’t seem to keep track of time or figure out where your friends wandered off to, and at some point the next day, you will swear that your wallet was hijacked and you shouldn’t be responsible for its abuse. There are ways to do it on the cheap, but at some point you want a lap dance, especially if everybody else is getting one too.

Pro #2: 30 to 45 minute sets provide ample opportunities to see many bands in a limited amount of time. There were literally thousands of bands playing all over the place in less than a week. If you had a badge and a schedule, you had a lot of options.

Con #2: 30 to 45 minute sets provide ample opportunities to feel shortchanged, even if you are watching a band play for free. Also, it's always difficult to go from a band that you were thoroughly enjoying to a band that is thoroughly annoying. Unless of course you are hung over from the night before, in which case it is easy. You simply walk away and return to bed.

Pro #3: Bands can amass all types of longevity cred. I’m not sure which band played the most shows over the week, but I know of a few who played 3 times in one day. If you can play 3 shows in one 8-hour period, then how hard can it be to play 6 shows over 7 days? Take that, booking manager, and run with it! I had opportunities to catch Jay Reatard 3 nights in a row, and I went 0 for 3, but that didn’t stop me from respecting his gig cred just a little more, especially because of the varying venue size.

Con #3: Bands can burn out. There’s only so many rock-solid 37 minute sets you can do in a week without the aid of musical sherpas. I don’t care how much coffee or red bull or uppers you can stuff in your face. At some point you won’t be 100%, but hopefully that will happen during soundcheck.

Pro #4: There is no substitute for musical camaraderie. Just when you think that you’re all alone in your indie-band iso booth, along comes a festival that brings together thousands of like-minded musicians for a week of fine taste and good times. It can be very inspiring to know that so many other people appreciate the same sounds and ideas that you do.

Con #4: It can also be a little depressing to see so many great bands and know that they are all better than you or at least more successful. It’s easy to be semi-competitive about things when there is a common goal. This is of course a bad attitude, and it is usually caused by too much self pity, which is usually caused by too much drinking, which is often caused by spending too much time in clubs.

Pro#5: The word festival is only used for fun. If this wasn’t going to be fun it would be the CMJ conference or CMJ convention. Conventions and conferences require name tags and ass-kissing. Festivals involve VIP lounges, all-access passes, wee-hours, shouting, lots of food, and maybe some illicit activities. All in all, we’d way rather be festival-goers than convention attendees. And because festivals are so positive, I will offer no rebuttal, thus leaving the final tally in a decidedly Pro CMJ victory. Bravo CMJ, and bravo everybody we hung out with or saw perform. You all truly put the fest in festival.

Wished You Were There

Tue, 28 Oct 2008 19:49:00 +0000

Have you ever wondered about the expression ‘tooting your own horn,’ as in, “not to toot my own horn, but I play a mean saxophone”? While blowing smoke up someone’s skirt makes far less sense as a means of complimentary admiration, tooting your own horn seems like a perfectly fine thing to do, especially if you play a mean saxophone. If you’ve got a nice horn, you should probably be tooting it. What, are we supposed to let other people toot our horns for us? Or maybe this expression refers to the bugles or trumpets used to announce arrivals or decrees, like in the days of olde or those tiny horns that clowns use to get your attention and abuse it. Maybe it refers to car horns, like when a station wagon full of girls drives by me while I’m simultaneously jogging and flexing and they toot their horn in deep appreciation. Whatever the source of the expression, I see nothing wrong with tooting my own horn, so please excuse me as I do so now as I detail the great success of our CMJ showcase.

To be fair, I will also toot the lovely horns of Daytrotter and Take The Handle, as we could not have done our show without them. Not to mention everybody at the Glasslands Gallery did a fine job, providing us with a relaxed and hospitable atmosphere. And of course the bands were great to. From Laura Gibson’s mellow but striking opening to The End of The World’s triumphant conclusion, all of the artists played great sets. The audience was great too, especially the ones who didn’t seem to mind getting occasionally bumped or obstructed by camera-wielding SnowGhosters. I guess I’m just going to toot everybody’s horns, since clearly we all deserve a good blow.

The Glasslands Gallery is certainly not your average venue. When we first walked in, I thought that we might have invaded someone’s expansive storage loft that had been shut for years. But as I moseyed around and we began to set things up, I understood that we had picked a pretty cool and appropriate space for our showcase. The sound system was just right (thanks Tom!), the lighting set the scene nicely, and there always seemed like there was just enough room for everyone to be cozy, especially while the winds and rain made the outside world a little unaccommodating. In fact, other than the lousy weather and a few wrinkles in the schedule, the whole thing went off as smoothly as a Barry White song, and while this was largely due to our own professionalism and can-do attitude, it had a lot to do with some great music as well.

Playing a solo set, especially when opening up a lineup of pretty powerful bands, is never an easy thing to do. Laura Gibson did it just fine. Her dexterous finger picking on nylon stings and her occasional boot stomping provided the perfect accompaniment to her gorgeous and timeless voice. Wye Oak came on next, and any first-time listeners can probably understand why these guys are on Merge and getting a lot of attention. Andy and Jen make more dynamic and atmospheric depth as a duo than most bands can muster with 4 or 5 people. How all of that awesome sound can fit inside of a Honda minivan is a testament to talent and creativity.

Bad Veins kept the duo vibe going, incorporating the help of an old reel to reel for additional support tracks. Their brief set was warm and abrasive at the same time, and their imaginative use of megaphones and telephones kept things interesting. Cut off your Hands doubled the band size, and practically doubled the energy in the room as well. There’s always something to be said about an energetic frontman, especially when he can sing and move well, not to mention beat the crap out of a floor tom. These boys from New Zealand look young, but they rocked like seasoned pros. If I wasn’t holding a very expensive camera, I surely would have opted for a bit of pogo dancing.

I almost pogoed to Luke Temple’s new band too. Playing their first public show, Luke’s band (whose name is still mostly undetermined) showed no signs of jitters. Having been around Luke and instruments, I know how versatile he is. So the fact that his latest band sounded different than any other music I’d heard him play before was not at all surprising. As much as I like his solo work, it was great to see Luke completely rock out with a bunch of new songs that were immediately likable and practically danceable. Another nice surprise to me was that there was more to The End of the World than I had previously thought. Even though I totally enjoyed their SnowGhost session as a duo of Stefan and Ben, I enjoyed them even more as a foursome, even if they didn’t play Section House after my gentle suggestions. Next time I will bring bribe money.

All in all, I enjoyed every waking moment of our showcase, and I was fully impressed with just about everything that happened. We even managed to get it all in and out on time and respectfully close out our bar tab. It was a fleeting musical romance, so much so that now I’m literally counting the days until I get to hear the results of our DSD recording efforts. I’m hoping the video turns out excellent as well, despite the fact that a significant portion of the filming was handled by myself. To all of you who came or played, thanks again. And for the rest of you, there’s always next year…

Marathon Madness

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 02:17:12 +0000

I have friends who have trained for and completed marathons. I am very proud of them, and in most cases, I am even a bit impressed. Running without stopping for 26.3 miles is certainly not something someone does on a whim, much less without a bit of training and a really nice pair of shoes. But at the same time, I could totally do it. If I was being chased by a gang of deadly chainsaw-toting toddlers that never surpassed the pace of a nine-minute mile, or perhaps a swarm of deadly bees that insisted on chasing me at safe speeds at or around 6 miles per hour, I could probably go at least 30 miles before I’d give up. I’d probably even have time for an emergency roadside poop. Regardless, there is no chance that I’ll ever willingly run in a marathon, barring unforeseen charitable circumstances. I will, however, freely submit myself to a nearly-weeklong MUSIC MARATHON, and I might even train for it!

That’s right, I just used an exclamation point to end the previous paragraph because I could think of no other punctuation mark that could capture my level of excitement for my upcoming participation in this week’s CMJ Music Marathon. I guess the preceding paragraph might prepare you for some sort of bold statement like, ‘I’m going to see at least 20 bands per day, thus witnessing approximately one thousandth of all available shows!’ That would be quite a feat, on par perhaps with running an actual marathon or participating in some sort of promotional stunt that involved consecutive days touching something or doing something. Alas, the festival is not about seeing your favorite 10 bands in one convenient place. It’s more about seeing 20 new bands you’ve never heard of in places you’ve never been to and meeting 50 people you haven’t ever met but you’re glad that you did.

It’s all about the networking, for fans and bands alike. It’s kind of like a job fair for bands, a DIY showcase where nobody has anything to lose. Yes, there are definitely great shows to be seen, and some of the best bands of the past 20 years have all been a part of the CMJ. I guess the best analogy I can think of is this: imagine you are a huge fan of amateur science, and you’ve just gotten a pass to the National Collegiate Science Fair Championships (The NCSFCs dude!!), featuring exhibits from thousands of the nation’s best amateur scientists. How pumped would you be? You’d be polishing your Bunsen burner and starching the collar of your lab coat, not to mention revising your theorems and exercising your pointing instrument, which you would use for pointing at interesting things. And it would totally break from all the interested pointing.

So I’m packing my bag, for 2 bags would be very pricey with baggage fees and such, and I’m headed for the blitz. I’m going to schmooze, cruise, use, and booze for the rest of the week, and I’ll write all about it. I’ve even decided to bring my running shoes, just in case I need to jog between venues and meet and greets. I may even need to emergency poop in an alley. Whatever happens, I’ll be sure to write about it over the next few days. So be prepared for a very productive period of blogging, or at least several typo-laced ramblings. It’s going to be a very enjoyable marathon…

The Wartime Blues: The Session

Fri, 10 Oct 2008 03:48:00 +0000

My first encounter with The Wartime Blues was when I was standing outside “The Church” ,where we do most of our shows, getting ready for our show with Adam Arcuragi. Three summertime-looking fellows walked up to me and asked me about the show. I mentioned that Adam Arcuragi was a folk artist from Philidelphia and that the opening band, Wartime Blues, was a folk-rock band from Missoula. That was about all I knew at the time, as Keith had booked them to open up for Adam fairly close to the show’s date. That’s when they corrected me. “Actually I’m from Idaho, and go to school in Missoula”, answered Ben. A little embarrassed, we shook hands, and I asked them about their set. They explained that they were a roots band, led by Canadian Nate Hegyi’s creative story-telling, touching upon American themes much in the vein of Neil Young. As we got the PA and running, The Wartime Blues settled into their soundcheck, and my ears perked up. They had a vibe. I leaned over to Keith and suggested that we arrange for a session after the show.

I came to learn that I had only seen half the band. The Wartime Blues was a college-based collective, on break for the summer; they also had keys, electric guitar, and cello waiting in the wings. This concerned me a bit, as big bands can struggle with arrangements during dense sessions like ours. After our meet and greet, and walk through of the songs, my concerns were quickly tamed. The band was open to suggestion, and they were good enough musicians to adapt quickly. Of the six songs they brought to the studio, we settled on four that were strong enough to represent the band.

Stocking Stuffers

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 01:26:06 +0000

After spending a few weeks in my problem solving lab in my very best problem solving labcoat, which also doubles as my problem solving raincoat as a result of previous problem solving, I have figured out how to save the music industry from another slow Holiday season. As is always the case when I am on the case in the PS lab, I first had to identify the problem. It seemed rather obvious to me almost immediately that the reason people do not flock to Target just to buy CDs for their loved ones is not due to the glaring lack of holiday-themed American Idol contestant releases. The obvious reason is that Americans have abandoned the CD as a gift because it does not fit well into a standard stocking.

While a series of self-conducted PS lab tests concluded that it is possible to cram one or two CDs into a stocking, the result is often unattractive in the way a once cuddly python looks bloated and lazy after engulfing a family of rabbits. It also leaves little room for lumps of coal or pennies. My initial solution phase consisted of designing and building a stocking specifically engineered for containing CDs, but the results were unimpressive. My prototype of the CDsock XVI, which consisted of a standard CD case with multi-colored holiday socks cheerfully taped across it, did not make it through the safely hanging from the mantle phase. So I approached the problem from another angle, and within a few short weeks, I finally sipped from the sweet chalice of success.

Or so I thought. After dialing the US patent office to apply for the latest in a long and proud line of patents, I received the crushing news that SanDisk, makers of tiny memory cards, had beaten me to the punch. Not only had they already designed ‘SlotMusic’ (what a clever nod to the CompanyName!), but I later learned that four major labels are in, and so are Wal-Mart and Best Buy. Though my product, TinyTunes, was going to feature tiny illegible text and micro art, I hadn’t figured out that I didn’t need to design a TinyTune player to allow use of my new breakthrough product. All I had to do was simply put an album’s worth of MP3 files onto a MicroSD mini card, sell it for 7 to 10 dollars at Best Buy, and people could stuff it into their cell phone or MP3 player MicroSD slot and rock out. Think of how many you could fit into the sock of a toddler, much less an actual holiday stocking! I could even include a USB sleeve so consumers could import it right into their computer and really notice the absolute lack of sonic difference between their tiny tangible micro card and the music they could’ve downloaded for free from the comfort of their own home. Alas, the genius of SanDisk has already envisioned this grand scheme, and the stocking stuffing war has surely already been won.

It’s really a surprise that the tiny cassettes of the analog answering machine era were never utilized for music. Obviously the size of records and CDs just became too much for people to deal with. They turned to the internet and iTunes for their downsizing and downloading because they simply could not handle the bulk and spatial existence of physical media, especially during the holiday times. Yet they undoubtedly missed the physical presence of something. So SanDisk has saved the day, with music containers so small that we can accidentally wash them in mini-skirt pockets or mistake them for photo cards and stuff them into our cameras. So get ready to stuff the stockings with tiny black plastic memory cards, music-loving holiday shoppers, and prepare to experience musical sound just as mediocre as the MP3s you already have on your iPod! And be on the lookout for the SlotMusic card carrying case, tentatively dubbed the ‘SlotHole,’ now in development in the PS lab.

Selling In

Thu, 04 Sep 2008 01:05:00 +0000

Things were different when I was a youngster. Sixth graders did not carry cell phones or iPods, gas was under a dollar, a ‘laptop’ referred to a special kind of dance, and if you were discussing product placement, you were most likely asking someone which aisle you could find Coke Classic in. Eddie Murphy was the coolest dude on the planet, fast food was still priding itself on its unhealthiness, and fades and certain varieties of mullets were considered cutting edge hairdos. Something that was certainly not considered cutting edge was any type of selling out. Back then, selling out could even consist of an artist seen drinking a can of Tab onstage. Neil Young wrote an album and a made a video about it that MTV refused to play before eventually awarding it with their video of the year award. Most bands that wanted to retain their cool status would try not to highlight any sponsorship or ever have their music used for product promotion. And thus despite the greatness of Michael Jackson’s hair catching fire and the drunk guy willingness of corporations large and small, the commercialization of music took a long time to catch on.

Of course back then, people actually bought things. Ticket Master was just getting started with fan rape, so people still willingly bought concert tickets to go along with the albums they listened to at home on stereos. Yeah, we made copies of tapes with state of the art high-speed dubbing dual cassette decks that gave us the opportunity to hear a band instantly transformed into Chipmunk speed metal, but record stores were still the source. Bands sold things. Record companies made huge profits, and even put some of it back in the pockets of the bands. They had enough money to take chances on experimental and/or obviously troubled bands, and bands had enough money that they didn’t have to be sponsored by Sunoco to afford filling up the tour van.

So now that most kids have more iPod accoutrements than actual albums, things are remarkably different. People are still forming bands, bands are still playing songs, and probably more people are listening to music now than ever. It’s just really hard to make money from a song, much less an album, without much support, at least initially, from a record label. So if a band wants to be successful, they’ve got to explore all of their options. And while there may not be a whole lot of money around, there are certainly plenty of options.

One of the more recent options is for an artist to sign with a label created by a corporation. Advertising is a revenue stream that seemingly never bothers to trickle, so it’s no surprise that companies like Axe and Mountain Dew have gone as far as developing their own labels to promote new music. One would rightly assume that they are also promoting themselves, but at least it’s with a hint of subtlety. The Cool Kids are the first to release a single exclusively through Mountain Dew’s Green Label Sound, which is a free singles-only venture from the people who first brought us a flaming Michael Jackson. The Cool Kids are without major label backing, so it’s not hard to figure why they’d take an opportunity like this to get more exposure and maybe make a little green. Though the song doesn’t have any mention of the product, the art promoting the song appears to have been made with the strict instructions to use only colors found on a case of the moonshine of sodas.

But that’s okay. The corporations, after all, are footing the bills, so it’s understandable that they’re not going to do this without getting at least their team colors involved. And even if the downloaded music is free in this case, bands will still get signing money, plus they get another avenue to drive their music down.

If it sounds like I’m all for it, it’s because I am. I wouldn’t play a show with a forehead-mounted billboard flashing advertisements for products that I would never actually use, but I would gladly accept any kind of sponsorship that could help me with road bills and dealing with booking issues. I would never write a song about my deep affection for Canada Dry ginger ale, but I would gladly put their logo on my van and openly sip from a slowly condensating green glass bottle of greatness during my entire show. I would also mention the importance of brushing your soda-infected teeth with Tom’s of Maine all-natural organic toothpaste if they wanted in on the product placing. Maybe I’d even stomp on giant tubes of Tom’s and squirt off germ-fighting gobs of the stuff while I simultaneously sprayed a recently opened liter of severely shaken soda. But I wouldn’t sing about it, and I wouldn’t let their messages seep into the deep connection I was establishing with my tiny army of fans. Except for maybe a little fluoride in their hair and soda in their eyes.

Everybody Loves Girl Talk

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 01:46:00 +0000

Every now and then there is something, whether it’s a toy, a phrase, a movie or a song that wins over fans of all ages. For your consideration, the Rubik’s cube. Not only is my spell check familiar with the word, but so is anyone who was alive in the ‘80s. Some people got it for their 40th birthday, some people got it for hitting a home run in little league, but we all loved it or hated it at some point. Also, “Ain’t no shame in my game.” I remember listening to Guru say it in the early ‘90s, and I just heard a sixty-something lady say it while she was cleaning up a campsite bathroom about a month ago. Consider further that Surf’s Up is one of the two best films ever made about penguins not only to me, but also to my 6-year-old niece and my sixty-year-old father.

And now for your current consideration, a recent conversation:

Fifty-something dude with pretty good taste in music: I’ve been really digging on the new Girl Talk. It’s a big improvement. I mean, he totally raided classic rock and nailed it.

Me : I’ve heard good things, but I still haven’t heard it.

A more recent conversation:

Teenager with pretty good taste in music: I can’t stop listening to Girl Talk. It’s the most amazing shit. It’s pretty much the best album ever. Have you heard it?

Me: Yes. It made me feel like I was on drugs.

Teenager with pretty good taste in music: Were you?

Me: I’m not sure. Would you like to see the inside of my windowless cargo van?

Teenager running away very fast: No thanks.

Actually, I do have a mostly windowless cargo van, and though I wish it had more windows, it does have a stereo that I use for NPR and CD enjoyment. One such recent enjoyment did in fact include the new Girl Talk album. The previous album also made a brief appearance in the van, but it sounded too much like someone flipping through radio stations, albeit very expertly and in a city with great stations across the dial. It also made me feel like I must’ve forgotten the three cups of coffee I had in the morning as I drank my third red bull for lunch. But this one just made me feel stoned, which is okay, especially if you’re listening to music. I recognized some old songs, some of the new songs, and even marveled at the incredible amount of synchronization that this DJ can find. At the very least, it’s very entertaining. At the very best, it’s mad scientist genius.

I’ll say it’s somewhere in between, and I’ll probably listen to it a few times before I get a little sick of it and shelve it for a while. I do like that you can put it on at any point of the album and not really know where you are at first, or care for that matter. For those a bit more familiar with it, it might be fun to guess what track you’re on, since the album never really stops. Or maybe if you were in a room full of people with at least one teenager and one older person, and perhaps everybody in the room had a pretty good awareness of popular music over the past 30 years, you could have a guess the sample party. You could award points for each correctly identified original song, with special points added to songs either sped up or slowed down. Girl Talk- The Game! would certainly be a big hit, especially if you split it into era editions.

But that’s not going to happen. What might happen, however, is greater recognition of the mash-up. And with greater recognition will come greater imitation. It’s a certainty that many people have You-tubed Gregg Gillis demonstrating how easy it can be to make a half-assed mash-up. Of course, his tracks are definitely not half-assed, and he probably has an encyclopedic knowledge of music from the past 30 or so years. Not to mention that he’s got an ear (and probably a bpm meter) for knowing when two songs from opposite sides of the tracks might make beautiful music together. How much a part of the mainstream the mash-up scene becomes is up for argument. I thought The Grey Album was going to be a hit, but there were some copyright issues. Also, can the mash-up really sustain repeated listens, especially without the aid of drugs or a dance floor?

For now, the kids, the cool older folks, and all the people in between seem to dig the new album. It’s hard not to have fun with it, just like it’s hard not to have fun with penguins. Whether or not it ends up next to the Rubik’s cube attracting dust particles in the furthest reaches of our proverbial fad closet, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Bon Indeed

Sun, 03 Aug 2008 16:43:00 +0000

I was born in a big town. Now I live in a small town. These are not the first two lines of a John Mellencamp tribute parody, but more or less my current musical situation. I could probably come up with a lengthy and comprehensive list of both pros and cons of big city versus small town, in which no clear winner would emerge. But in terms of musical culture, big city takes small town out behind small town’s very own red barn and gives small town a big city whoopin’. At least until last week, when small town enjoyed a fleeting but momentous musical victory, bestowing upon 300 lucky concertgoers the best show I’ve seen in at least 3 or 4 years.

The band responsible for this life-affirming experience was Bon Iver (though the opening set from Bowerbirds alone would have been enough). The venue was the Cape Cinema, a place I hadn’t been to before, but a place I will surely revisit, if only to see some foreign movies. I’ve already written about my ongoing disappointment with the current state of live sound, and I was ready to further that opinion after fully enjoying watching (but wanting earplugs or direct access to the soundboard) Violens and MGMT play great sets at the Paradise in Boston earlier in the week. Going to Boston or Providence is what I usually have to do to see good music, but not last week. I simply drove 15 minutes, crossed one town line, waited briefly outside in a light rain, and then sat 7 rows from the stage in a wonderfully spacious old-style cinema. I had a feeling that I had come to the right place, or maybe I felt more like the right place had finally come to me.

Though the sound was a bit muddled in the mids during the first few beautiful Bowerbirds songs, the engineer/owner/operator of the Place figured it out perfectly by the 4th song. Apparently the rains had delayed band travel, and the sound check had been compromised. But just as slight sonic disappointment was setting in, everything went right. Bowerbirds are a trio in every sense of the word, with multi-instrumentalists Beth and Mark playing musical chairs and doing quite a bit of singing and harmonizing with guitar strumming and hi-hat tapping Phil, who did most of the vocals. Their cohesion and spatial respect of each other’s talents had me theorizing that they probably had the most peaceful tour van on the road. I was also wondering how Bon Iver, mostly a one-man band with one great but possibly not-so-stage-translatable album, could possibly top such a pleasing set.

Understand that my expectations were pretty high, especially as the sound system was certainly catering to my audiophile desires. But maybe 38 seconds after Justin Vernon and friends (including the above-mentioned Mark pulling a double feature and handling bass duties) took the stage, I was in complete awe. I love the album For Emma, Forever Ago , but I don’t think I will enjoy it in the same way anymore. It’s an incredibly affecting, mood-bending piece of work, but it is clearly the result of one man in a cabin channeling haunting and beautiful transmissions. On stage and accompanied by obviously in-tune mates, the songs blasted off into another realm. Utterly. It was like finding out that an album you cherished was actually just a cover album, and then hearing that original album on God’s very own sound system.

One of the album’s strengths is the vocal layerings of Vernon’s almost exclusively falsetto voice, a trick that I figured would be difficult to pull off live. I hadn’t counted on him actually having a better voice in person than on record, nor did I know his band was capable of providing him with three-part harmony on nearly every song. The sparseness of the songs also allowed for plenty of tasteful and entirely indie noodling, plus percussive dynamics that I haven’t seen onstage since I used to tag along with my dad to orchestral concerts.

Basically, it was a case of four like-minded musicians understanding exactly what and where they needed to do musically, and they did it with the love and devotion usually reserved for gospel revivals. Needless to say, especially since I’ve probably already said it, I was blown away and praying that the show would never end, along with 299 other newly found devotees. It was pure musical magic, and the band knew it just as well as the audience. Vernon professed his desire to return regularly and received 300 immediate confirmations. This sort of night happens in the big city too, but rarely with such ease and satisfaction. My musical pilgrimages to the cities of the Northeast will continue, but I doubt they will ever leave me feeling quite as good as this.