Brooklyn Music

Big Star confirmed for rare Brooklyn apperance

2009-09-08T12:22:00.000-07:00

Alex Chilton has enjoyed one of the most enigmatic careers in pop music history. With the #1 opening salvo of "The Letter" in 1967 (written, contrary to popular belief, by Wayne Carson of "Always on My Mind" fame), Chilton and the Memphis-based Box Tops enjoyed a string of blue-eye soul hits that defined the era for more pop-conscious listeners. When the band dissolved in 1970, Chilton attempted to capture the zeitgeist as a New York-based folkie, but soon returned dissolute to Memphis. Reacquainting himself with Chris Bell, another young songwriter who proved to be his musical and personal foil, Big Star emerged from the ashes of Bell's Icewater, with the duo sharing frontman duties. Although only moving a modicum of copies, #1 Record and Radio City would have a profound influence on post-1980 pop that is perhaps only rivaled by Kraftwerk and James Brown; while musically anachronistic, Chilton's mordant -- even embittered -- lyricism would have a profound impact on the likes of Michael Stipe and Paul Westerberg. (Rerecorded by Cheap Trick, "In the Street" was subversively featured as the the theme song of That 70s Show.) With their record label (Ardent, the rock division of Stax Records) nearing insolvency and unable to cope with his heroin addiction and unrequited desires for Ardent executive John Fry (who himself lusted for the straight Chilton), Bell formally left the group after #1 Record, contributing only two songs to the trio-dominated Radio City. By the time Chilton and drummer Jody Stephens reconvened to record the wistful, chimerical Sister Lovers in the aftermath of Watergate, Beatlesque songcraft had been supplanted by extemporaneity and edginess. The result is an unwieldy masterpiece with equal footing in tradition (the bookending cover of "Whole Lotta Shakin' Going On") and the unknown (a prescient rendition of the Velvets' "Femme Fatale", which Chilton makes his own amid such enduring ballads as "Nighttime" and "Big Black Car"). By 1977, Chilton had come full circle from his pop idol origins, opening for the Talking Heads at CBGBs; since then, he has put out a dependable -- if slightly ennui-laden -- string of indie albums steeped in punk blues, chanson, and the eclecticism that Big Star only began to hint at. Chris Bell's fate was less than fortuitous; struggling valiantly with his addiction amid a newfound devotion to Christianity, he died in a car crash less than a year after Chilton's Bowery stint.

In 1993, Chilton and Stephens reformed Big Star with John Auer and Ken Stringfellow of The Posies. Since then, they've toured intermittently and released a couple of albums that generally fall into the ho-hum, indifferent vein of Chilton's later oeuvre. In spite of this, their November 18th show at the Brooklyn Masonic Temple, the group's first full performance in New York in nearly a decade, will likely be one of the best of the year; if recent YouTube videos are any indication, Chilton has retained his stage dynamism, while Auer and Stringfellow are sympathetic to the original records. Tickets (rather pricey at $35.00) are available here. Keep an Eye on the Sky, a box set featuring rarities and favorites, is out next Tuesday.

Review: Sidetracked by Hercules and Love Affair

2009-09-04T09:06:00.000-07:00

By and large, 2009 has been a transitional year for dance music. Tired of the solipsism of the electro scene (epitomized by A Cross The Universe, Justice's snooty travelogue of a documentary), critics none well versed in the mythopoeia of the groove have posited that everything from UK funky (the latest -- and well executed -- British regurgitation of early 90s diva house) to the all-too-spare strains of dubstep will mark the next paradigm shift in the genre. But throughout it all, Brooklyn-based producer Andy Butler has remained consistently prolific, recording several singles (and one album) under the Hercules and Love Affair moniker that defy ready categorization. Expropriating the walking bass lines that are all but metonymous with disco sleaze, Arthur Russell's Cageian horn arrangements, and the musique maudite of Antony Hegarty, Butler has arrived at a sound that is irrefragable proof of the idiom's continued evolution. With no less of an authority than Frankie Knuckles (the New York disco/Chicago house pioneer) having produced a remix of the hit "Blind", one can't help but feel that Butler -- who, like many of the genre's initial factotums, is openly gay and not averse to a good lyric -- has revitalized what was a moribund tradition.

Tying together 70s underground disco faves Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band, Gino Soccio, local upstarts In Flagranti, the early avant-dance revivalist Danny Wang, Todd Terry's epochal cover of Phreek's "Weekend", and the new Hercules single ("I Can't Wait", five minutes of truly sybaritic fun) into a cohesive whole, Sidetracked is an exhilarating mix -- so exhilarating that Butler's nuanced segues may keep you from hitting the dance floor altogether. An inveterate and relentless crate-digger, Butler's choices lend the anthology a gravitas far beyond the years of its compiler. While his three-minute deconstruction of "Weekend" (taken from the relatively rare "Retouched by the Hand of Todd" club mix, not the overplayed, hip-hop influenced radio edit) will probably not garner the DJ any new fans, the Buzzard and Ray Martinez cuts will surely bemuse the contemporary generation of banger-reared hipsters. The absence of "Grand Central Shuttle" is conspicuous, but as a subversive exercise and a party album, Sidetracked succeeds on all counts.

MyPod: "10 Bricks" by Raekwon

2009-09-02T08:40:00.000-07:00

When I was a little tot, Brooklyn-born MC Raekwon pioneered mafiosi rap with 1995's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, that peculiar yet profoundly influential subgenre of turn-of-the-century hip-hop which inspired anomalies (RZA's brief yet intense penchant for run-of-the-mill soul samples) and aberrations (the lamentable rise and fall of Irv Gotti). As the splendors of thug life became an indelible trope of commercial hip-hop for nearly a decade, Raekwon nonetheless stood apart. For one thing, he had been immersed in the street culture for much of his youth, lending his recordings a verite, brooding, and almost Scorsesean quality that others (onetime Fort Greene resident 50 Cent, for starters) could never dream of emulating. Moreover, like many of his Wu-Tang compatriots, he's a prodigiously talented wordsmith.

Nonetheless, the much-anticipated Only Built 4 Cuban Linx 2 is an incredibly risky gambit in the eclectic waters of 2009. Fifteen years removed from the hardcore era that the Clan will always be emblematic of, hip-hop is as fractured as rock was in 1975. Produced by the late J Dilla, album cut "10 Bricks" is a valiant -- and, I daresay, visionary -- repudiation of the Autotuned gloss that permeates the charts, the signpost to a new space that true believers have anxiously awaited. Fusing the klaxons and expropriated noise of Dilla's final recordings with clarion blaxploitation horns and strident lyrics that recall the gritty Nineties, Raekwon is back with a vengeance. Preview the track here.

WFMU Fest comes to Brooklyn

2009-09-02T08:11:00.000-07:00

If you've experienced the misfortune of a long automobile ride lately, you'll know that many of New York's corporate radio stations can grow a tad irksome after about twenty minutes. For those of us who are too impecunious for satellite radio and can't depend upon FM-powered iPod docks in the five boroughs, independent station WFMU (91.1, 90.1 for Hudson Valley readers) is something of a lifesaver, broadcasting an irreverent mix of contemporary indie, rare groove, 50s honky tonk, Duke Ellington, sleazy garage sides, and just about anything else you could possibly imagine. They also host the already-venerable Free Music Archive, dole out concert tickets on Twitter, and sponsor a pretty groovy record fair every year. Don't let the "station whose name has become like a secret handshake among a certain tastemaking cognoscenti" appellation throw you off -- Hot 97 and Q104.3 just pale in comparison.

A month from now, the Jersey City-based station will be coming to Brooklyn with the inaugural WFMU Fest. As the concert market bottoms out, seminal no wavers Teenage Jesus & the Jerks (featuring the inimitable Lydia Lunch) will be headlining the final concert on October 3rd. Esoterics will also delight in a rare performance on October 1st by Wumme's finest exports -- Faust. Coalescing around the same scene that included such Teutonic perennials as Kraftwerk, Neu!, Amon Duul II, Ash Ra Tempel, and Cluster, they were the first to cross over to an international audience; The Faust Tapes, reissued by the incipient, pre-jetliner Virgin Records, sold over 100,000 copies in Britain. Neophytes should check out Outside the Dream Syndicate, a collaboration with LaMonte Young associate/composer/filmmaker Tony Conrad; it is one of the first extant examples of interdisciplinary musical minimalism, presaging the fusion recordings of Peter Gordon, Arthur Russell, and Laurie Anderson by several years. Budget-conscious listeners may want to consider the $12 October 2nd show, featuring Allentown grunge revivalists (we're not kidding) Pissed Jeans.

For more info, click here.

Featured Concerts: 8/28-9/5

2009-08-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

08/30: Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Preacher in the Knife
Music Hall of Williamsburg (66 N. 6th St.)
7 PM
$5 advance/$7 door

Following in the ribald, insouciant British folk-rock tradition of Roy Harper and Steeleye Span, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros (who, I should add, are very American) have earned plaudits from the L.A. Times for their "big, open-hearted anthems". Sharpe (nee Alex Ebert of dance-punk lodestars Ima Robot) is known for baring his chest and feet onstage, but with stagecraft not a priority for many of today's groups, there's no need to begrudge him. The equally singular Preacher in the Knife borrow equally from Nick Cave and calypso, making this show one of the bargains of the month.

09/03: Brazilian Girls Sound System
The Bell House (149 7th St.)
7:30 PM
$10

The Brazilian Girls' polyglot lyrics and tropicalia-cum-Left Bank aesthetic have earned them celebrity fans (David Byrne) and a coveted spot on Verve Records; nevertheless, as critic Nitsuh Abebe astutely noted over three years ago, "They have fans, yes-- devoted ones-- but there's no coherent market for them to aim at. They have their swank global groove, but they're too arty to home in on worldbeat fans or VIP loungers. They make freethinking dance music, but their grooves are too earthy to count on the electronic crowd, and they're too upscale, too going-out-music, to count on rock geeks." With Brazilian Girls Sound System, bassist Jesse Murphy (who is also playing a solo set) and drummer Aaron Johnson are valiantly attempting to strip away the artiness with musicians from the John Scofield Band, the Saturday Night Live house band (weird enough)... and, most quizzically of all, Paul Ryder from the Happy Mondays (not the more logical -- and temperamental -- Shaun). Interesting, at the very least.

09/02: Titus Andronicus, The Smith Westerns, The So So Glos
Monster Island Basement (128 River St.)
8 PM
$9

Playing on a bill as perfectly complementary as coffee and pie, Titus Andronicus' avant-Springsteen theatrics culminated in The Airing of Grievances, one of last year's best rock albums. Meanwhile, Bay Ridge outcasts the So So Glos -- arguably better known for their role in the formation of the Market Hotel than any of the music they've produced -- are the long-prophesied American answer to The Clash, infusing indie with the timeless kind of despondent heart and soul that will leave you spinning Tourist/Terrorism over and over again. Meanwhile, Chicago's Smith Westerns bridge both approaches with garage-y fulminations on the usual adolescent frustrations.

Ellie Greenwich: 1940-2009

2009-08-26T13:02:00.000-07:00

As the world mourns the symbolic end of the Camelot era with the passing of Ted Kennedy, another icon of those halcyon days -- Brooklyn-born songwriter Ellie Greenwich, best known for the Brill Building era standards "Be My Baby", "Da Doo Ron Ron", "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)", "River Deep Mountain High", "Chapel of Love", and "Leader of the Pack" -- has also died. Although she never parlayed her talents into the solo stardom attained by contemporaries like Carole King and (to a much lesser extent) Fred Neil, Greenwich -- who collaborated on many of her hits with another Brooklynite, then-husband and lyricist Jeff Barry -- played an integral role in advancing the role of women in the music industry; along with Sylvia Robinson, Greenwich was one of the few female producers/business professionals active in the late 60s and early 70s, having recorded the likes of Dusty Springfield and The Raindrops (another collaboration with Barry) and discovered fellow Brooklynite Neil Diamond. In the eighties, she enjoyed renewed attention with the Tony-nominated Leader of the Pack, an autobiographical musical revue that featured Greenwich and Spector-era stalwart Darlene Love in its initial 1985 Broadway run.

Along with the Mann-Weil songwriting team, Greenwich-Barry were among Phil Spector's most prolific collaborators; the relatively simple structures of "Da Do Ron Ron" and "I Can Hear Music" -- coupled with Spector's agitprop productions -- played a key role in the crystallization of what the late feminist critic Ellen Willis described as "a counter-tradition in rock and roll that had much more in common with high art -- in particular avant-garde art -- than the ballyhooed art-rock syntheses." It is this tradition that has prospered and prevailed over time, and continues to inspire new generations of musicians to this day. With "Be My Baby" sounding almost as fresh today as it did in 1963, her songs will endure for years to come.

MyPod: "Give Blood" by Rain Machine

2009-08-25T09:03:00.000-07:00

Their ineffable presence notwithstanding, TV on the Radio are among the most unlikely -- and natural -- beneficiaries of the hype machine that has enveloped the Brooklyn musical renascence. Specializing in near-discordant melanges of free jazz, conventional indie rock, electronica, and avant-hip-hop, Tunde Adibimpe, Kyp Malone, Dave Sitek, and their merry men have proven beyond a reasonable doubt that it is all music in the end, garnering approval from both elder statesmen (David Bowie guested on their remarkable breakthrough, Return to Cookie Mountain) and the masses (Dear Science peaked at #12 on Billboard) alike; Sitek's patented production style -- incorporating Enoesque filigree and just a tinge of that vituperative Myrtle Avenue funk -- has graced albums from artists as diverse as Scarlett Johannson, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and local sensation Telepathe, while dexterous drummer Jaleel Bunton just guested on the Phenomenal Handclap Band's debut LP and seems to have matured into a latter-day Al Jackson.

With so much talent suffused into the rhythm section alone, it's easy to lose sight of guitarist Kyp Malone's distinctive contributions. Just as the initial success of Roxy Music hinged upon the underlying tension between Bryan Ferry's penchant for 40s anachronisms and the aforementioned Eno's space-age flair, it is Malone that brings an imperious hunger, an inimitable falsetto, and improvisatory glee to the synths and automatonic loops of Sitek and Adibimpe. Without Malone, the band would be something along the lines of the Yeah Yeah Yeah's artier, contraries cousins (think Dig! all over again); with him, their genre-bending panache will be secure for years to come.

After nine years, Malone is poised to step into the spotlight next month with the self-titled debut of his his much anticipated solo project, Rain Machine. Not wanting to be disingenuous and misrepresent what will surely be sui generis, I will say that the advance single "Give Blood" -- streaming here -- is an intensely soulful effort that manages to recall Outkast, Captain Beefheart, Alex Chilton at his most feral, and John Lee Hooker over the course of three minutes. With a tremulous blues guitar riff that may as well be anathema to his hipster constituency, Malone isn't playing around here -- and there's no doubt that Rain Machine may be one of the year's finest albums. Be sure to add this one to your iPod.

Sean Paul cancels free MLK show

2009-08-24T11:23:00.000-07:00

As per a press release I just received from the Borough President's office, dancehall superstar Sean Paul -- currently touring relentlessly behind his new album, Imperial Blaze -- has canceled a free show at Wingate Park in Crown Heights tonight due to a throat illness. It is believed that the extended tour contributed to his medical condition. According to the performer, "I am really disappointed that I will not be able to appear. I've been working very hard these last few weeks, to deliver the album to my fans. I was looking forward to performing the new tracks in Brooklyn." Trinadian soca king Machel Montano will be taking his place on a bill that also includes his direct progenitor, calypso pioneer Mighty Sparrow. With the humidity finally relenting today, don't miss this show!

Todd P. featured on NPR, going legit

2009-08-21T09:23:00.000-07:00

When someone writes the definitive chronicle of the 2000s Brooklyn music explosion in fifteen to twenty years, promoter Todd Patrick will stand in the foreground as one of its most integral -- and humble -- scenemakers. The idea of putting on a semi-illicit $5 show with unknown artists in desolate industrial spaces almost reeks of cliche in music geek circles, but through a mixture of equanimity (there's no clear "Todd P." or "Brooklyn sound" a la the San Francisco bands championed by Bill Graham forty years ago, even if his programming leans closer to noise rock than dance music) and Teutonic precision (see the man running around a venue thirty minutes before showtime and you'll wonder why he isn't working for Goldman Sachs, a decided lack of business acumen notwithstanding), he's made underground music palatable to the mainstream -- or at the very least, the higher-browed culturati.

While this NPR profile of the man is hardly revelatory, there is one interesting tidbit -- after years of summonses, increasing visibility and last-minute show changes, Todd P. is opening a "fully legit rock club" in the fall. No word on where the venue will be, but with the Knitting Factory finally completing their move across the East River in a couple weeks, expect much in the way of good local live music throughout the winter.

The Coolest Tribute Band Ever?

2009-08-21T08:47:00.000-07:00

The metier of tribute bands, odd exceptions like Lez Zeppelin notwithstanding, is usually characterized by off-key vocals, carefree unprofessionalism, and rushed tempos -- everything you didn't love about the original group. But while they are nominal exponents of that crowd, you probably won't find Arthur's Landing butchering 70s rock hits at a bar anytime soon. Comprised of nearly all of the musicians who collaborated with downtown composer/disco artist Arthur Russell in his multi-faceted career -- including such notables as Modern Lovers bassist Ernie Brooks, Allen Ginsberg acolyte/performance artist Steven Hall, and fellow composer/trombonist Peter Zummo -- the loose collective of musicians has played a myriad of venues in recent months, ranging from the Issue Project Room in Gowanus to the Diesel store in Manhattan. (An insouciant type who loved ABBA and placed koala bear iconography on his records, Russell probably would have approved of the latter venue.) Even though the composer always divvied up his stable of collaborators while recording -- the patrician Brooks almost never played on Russell's dance records, while percussionist Mustafa Ahmed isn't audible on the folk-rock recordings that graced last year's posthumous Love is Overtaking Me -- the repertoire of Arthur's Landing is strangely holistic, ranging from the unreleased "It's a Boy" to the classic dance hit "Is It All Over My Face" (check out this performance with Nomi of Herclues & Love Affair on YouTube).

According to their MySpace, the group is releasing a re-recording of the latter track (titled "Love Dancing" after the original version of the song) featuring the vocal talents of Nomi and Xavier (and produced by local leftfield DJ Brennan Green) this fall. In the interim, you can catch them with Xavier at Williamsburg's Zebulon (258 Wythe Av.) tomorrow night at 10 PM. In addition to all of the usual suspects, it wouldn't be surprising if a special guest (such as Elodie Lauten, who occasionally gigs with the group) is among their ranks.

Show Review: Animal Collective at the Prospect Park Bandshell

2009-08-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

In a 1981 interview with Geraldo Rivera, Jerry Garcia astutely compared the legions of Deadheads to licorice eaters. "Our audience is like people who like licorice," he said. "Not everybody likes licorice, but the people who like licorice really like licorice." The same could be said for Animal Collective, the Baltimore-born and locally-based musical confederation (as witnessed by guitarist Josh Dibb's indefinite hiatus from the group, they can hardly be thought of as a band in the traditional sense) who have captivated mainstream audiences and the cognoscenti alike since releasing the acclaimed Merriweather Post Pavilion -- either their magnum opus or the summit of popular music's decline into irrelevancy, depending upon your perspective -- back in January. More than any other group under the "indie" aegis, the members of Animal Collective are fundamentally outre, an affront to the coldly calculated and expertly manicured veneer of the hipster epoch; in other words, they're kind of like those prematurely hirsute guys who were never invited to the society parties in high school and probably spent their earnings from RadioShack on copious amounts of certain flowering buds. Or, more reductively, they never set out to be hip, even as the urban vanguard latched on to them with unexpected aplomb. Just as the Dead remained relatively static and complacent in their ways as their instrumentation evolved, it's difficult to envision the cogent quartet doing anything differently in fifteen years -- even as a new generation of not-so-impecunious students and dreamers follow them on tour.

Saturday's concert -- marking the end of the 2009 Celebrate Brooklyn season -- was an exercise in contrasts. Young families frolicked with each other on the lawn; an aging Park Slope rocker and his Bay Ridge companion (the accent and her gushing admiration for Vesuvio's were the giveaways) downed Rocher chocolates by the box, demonstrating that the two rival nabes will indeed live in harmony someday; and yes, plenty of my not-so-impecunious peers were there, searching in vain for a party scene that never quite manifested amid the electronics and copious pot smoke. While the beat was crucial to Merriweather Post Pavillion's hits ("Brothersport" and "My Girls"), AC's roots in freak folk and the Beach Boys' psychedelic era have continually precluded them from indulging in anything close to a four-on-the-four rhythm, and Saturday's set maintained that contrarian tradition. While a select number of pop visionaries (Wilson, Perry, Eno, Russell) foresaw the dissipation of the beat into spatial luminescence, Animal Collective's rapid ascent into the collective unconsciousness has expedited this process overnight -- no small feat.

After a set of disco standards ("Make Me Believe in You", "Cymande") from XXXChange, veteran LA DJ Dam-Funk played an hour-plus set of 80s boogie and electro-funk, ranging from the predictable ("More Bounce to the Ounce") to his own self-produced tracks. Unlike most mixmasters, who seamlessly blend (or in the case of hip-hop DJs, jaggedly cut) between tracks, he saw it fit to speak over nearly every transition. This was beneficial in some instances (from the standpoint of a collector of those records, identifying them was a nice gesture), but the constant chat soon grew irksome.

And then it was time for the headliners. Opening with a reworked version of the hymnal "Grace" -- an unreleased curio and fan favorite -- Animal Collective seemed to be in perfect synchronicity with the audience. All of their recent material ("Summertime Clothes", "Guys Eyes", "Lion in a Coma", the abovementioned tracks) were performed in relatively faithful renditions that doubtless placated the new fans, but it was on their more esoteric material -- including a suite of "Fireworks" and "#1" from 2007's Strawberry Jam -- that the band truly shone. Much as the Dead's studio recordings were only springboards and loose templates for their live flights of fancy, Animal Collective indulge the live setting as an incubator of new ideas and spontaneous improvisation, a fearless stance in an era where so many artists merely "play the record", irrespective of genre.

By the time of "Lion in a Coma", a great time had been enjoyed at all. Kudos to Animal Collective and Celebrate Brooklyn for an amazing night of music.

Soul and Country come to Brooklyn

2009-08-19T08:52:00.001-07:00

If you're a traditionalist dismayed by Bjork's incipient move to Brooklyn Heights, have no fear -- the next month is going to be a veritable cornucopia of delights for local roots music enthusiasts. On top of the 3rd annual Coney Island Rockabilly Festival (check the archives for details), the Brooklyn Soul Festival will be touching down at the Bell House on August 28th and 29th. While we can't guarantee that discerning trainspotters will find any records of substance at Saturday's Vinyl Record and Vintage Clothing Festival (this has been the province of paunchy, middle-aged veterans of the British northern soul scene for time eternal), performances by such unheralded legends as the venerable Roscoe Robinson (Friday), "Georgia Grinder" Hermon Hitson (a potential heir to the Otis throne whose promising career was derailed by a 1968 assault case; also Friday), and Maxine Brown (of "We'll Cry Together" fame) will doubtless make up for the deficit.

In mid-September, Southpaw will be hosting the sixth annual Brooklyn Country Music Festival. A melange of new traditionalists and more idiosyncratic groups (ranging from the "whackabilly" of The Defibulators to the M Shanghai String Band), this celebration of the burgeoning local country scene never fails to entertain. If you can only attend one night, don't miss September 17th's triple whammy of The Defibulators, Sean Kershaw & the New Jack Ramblers (featured in a Village Voice piece on the scene last year), and Alana Amram (the daughter of David Amram).

Review: Everything Goes Wrong by the Vivian Girls

2009-08-18T20:51:00.000-07:00

For anyone who still harbors the steadfast convictions that dance music is only for louche trendoids at pickup joints and the exigency of hip-hop only manifests in an ironic – and slightly dated – context, the Vivian Girls represent nothing less than a paradigm shift in popular music. For anyone who has long succumbed to the Bacchanalian thrall of the dance floor and forsook Guided by Voices for Talib Kweli a long time ago, the Vivian Girls still represent a paradigm shift in popular music. While we can safely assert on the cusp of the 2010s that rock and roll – that peculiar leviathan borne from backwoods cross-fertilization that, like any form of vernacular music in good standing, won’t go away any time soon – has experienced an unforeseen and incredible renascence over the past ten years, feral vitality has been subsumed by the brutal ardor of the conservatory.

As early as 1969, even a Bozo boor like Jim Morrison could definitively proclaim that “rock is dead” and foresee the rapid proliferation of what were then quaintly known as tape machines; within half a decade, “Autobahn” and “Love to Love You Baby” fulfilled the mandate of the lead Door’s prognostication with flying colors. The reactionary torrents of punk and some of its derivatives notwithstanding, contemporary pop is a process in enumerating upon those templates, arguably culminating in the spazzed-out bliss of pre-808s Kanye and the psych-funk furor of Ratatat and Black Moth Super Rainbow. Tellingly, when some of the working-class rapscallions of Britain’s housing estates took to more artistic inclinations in the early 00s, it was speed garage – a frantic variant of drum and bass – that served as the direct antecedent for their grimy experiments. While Dave Longstreth and Ezra Koeing are very talented individuals and seemingly genial guys, their relationship to Jerry Lee and Carl Perkins is tangential at best. Like Cleopatra and Funny Girl, the manifestos of the contemporary rock renaissance are aurally arresting but have no substance – nada, kids. Rock (irrespective of the divisive indie/corporate divide… you say bad, I say worse) has entered its Getz/Brubeck era of conscious obsolescence and avaricious omniscience. This is not to say that what Longstreth and company are doing is unlistenable (Grizzly Bear’s “Two Weeks” will be a standard on par with “Ipanema” or “Take Five” in fifty years, just wait and see) or entirely duplicitous (they’re using rock instrumentation, after all), but it’s deserving of a new sobriquet.

Everything Goes Wrong is the title of one of filmmaker Seijun Suzuki’s better efforts, and if Japan’s answer to Russ Meyer ever deigned to strap on an electric guitar and write 36 minutes worth of three-chord rock and roll, it would probably sound something like this. Having moved from the postindustrial milieu of the Brooklyn DIY circuit to the Plasticine depths of Los Angeles myriad freeways, the Vivian Girls have managed to channel that city’s deleterious energy into something greater than the sum of its – or their – parts. From Ali Koehler’s jazzy (and utterly taut) drumming to Cassie Ramone’s assured (and almost decipherable) vocals, the Vivian Girls have lived up to the nihilistic promise of “Such a Joke” and “Where Do You Run To”. As the titles of “Tension”, “The End”, and the epic “Double Vision” (dig Ramone’s primitive, Neil Young-via-Kevin Shields fretwork), they’ve extended their lyrical purview to more transcendental and universal concerns in a way that would make Durrell and Nin furrow their eyebrows in despair. This is a hulking piece of licentious, incendiary riffage: an off-white nexus where the scene’s prevailing Ivy aridity meets Faulknerian ramshackle bombast in a dual to the death, with the latter camp ballasted by Kickball Katy’s William Calley bass.

Nearly three decades ago, The Minutemen, Husker Du, and – most lamentably of all – The Replacements descended into modest pedantry, unable to reconcile their baser concerns with the scepter of maturity. As the Vivian Girls have ably demonstrated, you can have your cake, eat it too, and somehow beat your more recondite peers to the finish line. As for this album’s relevancy to the future of rock and roll and pop music in general? As the great Paul Nelson once ruminated, it “defines it, expands it, explodes it. Burns it to the ground.”

Featured Concerts: 8/17-8/22

2009-08-16T14:36:00.000-07:00

A relatively quiet week, as to be expected during the dog days of August. Still, there are a couple of interesting live choices for your perusal.

8/19: Islands, Das Racist, Radical Dads
The Bell House (149 7th St.)
7:30 PM
$12
Having toured with the likes of Beck, Islands frontman Nick Thorbun is a spiritual cousin of funk/folk/hip-hop eclectic, producing a prolific stream of albums over the past decade that fall under such unlikely rubrics as folk and progressive rock. A must-see.

8/23: Amy Ray, Toshi Reagon
The Bell House (149 7th St.)
7:30 PM
$12
Although they've been unfairly pigeonholed over the years as everyone's favorite socially conscious and openly lesbian folk-rock duo, the Indigo Girls have put out several pleasant records over the years. Performing songs from such solo efforts as Didn't It Feel Kinder (and maybe "Closer to Fine"), Amy Ray will renew -- or restore -- your faith in singer/songwriters.

Show Review: Brooklyn Steppers and High Places at It Came From Brooklyn

2009-08-16T14:07:00.000-07:00

Fifth Avenue's Museum Mile is less than a half hour by subway from Borough Hall, but to invoke the time-honored wisdom of Neil Young, it's a "million miles away" culturally. Yes, Chuck Close's more enduring works and Warhol's Mao portrait may be enshrined in the Met; yes, Nicky Siano played some shindig at the Cooper-Hewitt last year; yes, Ratatat performed at the Guggenheim as early as three years ago. But for the majority of stodgy (and not-so-stodgy) Upper East Siders, the Brooklyn arts renaissance is redolent of the same exotica that once permeated the SoHo and East Village scenes in earlier decades. Rather than gradually ingratiating the two disparate entities through the usual means of avarice and acquisition, former gallery owner and current Guggenheim special events coordinator Bronwyn Keegan came up with the brilliant idea of bringing Brooklyn's best writers and musicians to the Guggenheim itself. The result is the It Came From Brooklyn series, which kicked off on Friday with performances by an eclectic variety of local talents.

After a deliriously smarmy comedy set from former Saturday Night Live writer (and Brooklyn resident) Leo Allen, Bed-Stuy's own Brooklyn Steppers dazzled the audience with a medley of popular songs and intricate drum solos. Although the audience seemed to initially treat the ensemble with an air of blaseness -- it's a marching band, after all -- the prodigiously talented Steppers (some musicians are still in grade school) transcended the usual drumline theatrics and the venue's poor acoustics. By the end of their twenty minute set, nearly every member of the crowd was hollering with rapturous glee, a testament to their burgeoning talents. If a local Lindsay Buckingham is looking to spruce up his arrangements, look no further.

With an arsenal heavily dependent "layered recordings, improvised loops, and percussion," fellow Bed-Stuyers High Places were ideal for this type of event -- their lilting music does not require immediate attention, but such focus hardly detracts from appreciating them. Vocalist Mary Pearson's funereal bassoon playing recalled the postminimal stylings of trombonist Peter Zummo and multi-instrumentalist Jon Gibson, while knob-turner Rob Barber seemed to be in awe of his surroundings, thanking the audience on several occassions and citing the Brooklyn Steppers as "the best openers they've ever had." While their twisted, amelodic sounds may not be for everyone, the group is well on their way to cementing their place on the vanguard of the Brooklyn scene.

Overall, It Came From Brooklyn was a testament to how far our borough has come as an arts mecca over the past decade. I -- and, quite likely, many others -- eagerly anticipate attending September's show.

BrooklynBio: Arthur Rhames

2009-08-14T14:27:00.000-07:00

As the world mourns the passing of madcap free jazz drummer Rashied Ali, it is important to note that Ali's legacy extends far beyond the sonic pyrotechnics of Ascension and New Directions in Jazz Music. Long after his halcyon days in the mid-sixties, the prolific Ali continued to champion musicians of the same iconoclastic pedigree as John Coltrane and James "Blood" Ulmer. Among the less fortuitous of these collaborators was Bed-Stuy native Arthur Rhames, a fusion prodigy whose intermittent career and rampant egotism belied a talent that, in Ali's estimation, was on par with the "greatest musicians God ever put on this Earth." Today, Rhames' imprimatur is the stuff of forgotten indie labels and luminiferous memories, but his recondite profile has cast a towering shadow among the cognoscenti well into the 2000s: Vernon Reid of Living Colour described Rhames' guitar style (he also played tenor sax and melodica to rapturous acclaim) as "frightening" in an interview conducted three years after the musician died of AIDS complications in 1989, and even the laconic Bill Frisell cited Rhames as an "overwhelming" presence, adding that he had "never seen the guitar played that way." Like another multi-instrumentalist named Arthur who helped to define the epoch, minimalist composer/dance auteur Arthur Russell, Rhames' output was uniquely variegated, a jarring confluence of influences that ranged from his Hare Krishna faith (he was a regular at the Krishna temple at 439 Henry Street in Cobble Hill, a brisk fifteen-to-twenty minute walk from the Eagle's offices) to R&B to free jazz to the stentorian excesses of Mahavishnu Orchestra. As such, it's hardly surprising that this style only became germane to record company scouts in the wake of his untimely death -- when drummer and steadfast collaborator Charles Telerant mentioned that he had played with Rhames to Brian Bachhus of Verve Records, the A&R executive offered to sign the enigmatic local legend to a career-making deal on the spot -- an offer that was rescinded when Telerant informed him that Rhames had been deceased for three weeks.

Garnering his initial reputation (ballasted by a profile in Guitar World) as the pubescent guitarist with local jazz-funk trio Eternity, "the Brooklyn Flash" embraced the jazz orthodoxy in his early twenties, busking frequently in Union Square in various permutations with Telerant and a trio configuration that included pianist John Esposito and Jeff Siegel on drums. The few recordings of Rhames from this era, collected on a tribute album recorded with Ali (The Dynamic Duo Remember Trane and Bird) and a lone live album (Live from Soundscape) find him increasingly dependent upon the tenor saxophone and emulating Coltrane's late-period deconstructionism (the Trio's microtonal take on "I Got Rhythm" from Soundscape is a competent demonstration of this approach). In 1984, Rhames (credited as "Butch") contributed pedestrian guitar and keyboards to Positive Power by Steve Arrington's Hall of Fame, an obscure boogie-disco effort.

Rhames remains an elusive figure even in jazz circles, but a reappraisal seems to be on the horizon. An official website showcases scintillating rock fretwork from his Eternity days and highlights from the the mellifluous jazz recordings that eventually manifested, while an unreleased duo album with Telerant was recently released to favorable notices.

Ego considerations notwithstanding, it's difficult to ascertain why Rhames failed to attain even a modicum of success in the insular world of jazz. As an instrumentalist, his crossover appeal to pop audiences was limited at best; moreover, as an African-American gay man who refused to compromise with the duplicity of the music industry, he may have simply been too ahead of his time.

Review: Silk Flowers (2009)

2009-08-12T11:38:00.000-07:00

Multifariousness will likely define the musical legacy of the 2000s; as a friend remarked recently, the postmodern bricolage of Beck's Odelay was so far ahead of its time in 1996 that no one could have possibly anticipated the influence of that aesthetic. Yet this genre-spanning amenability came at the sacrifice of several longstanding forms, and whether you want to chalk it up to Bush-era hubris or the transition of musical breeding grounds from the dishabille of suburban basements to Five Colleges gravitas, the goth is as blithely anachronistic as shoulder pads at the cusp of the 2010s. From what I've seen, Aviram Cohen, Ethan Swan, and Peter Schuette do not take their lyrical cues from Robert Smith or Ian Curtis, but their debut album -- released concurrently with Quentin Tarantino's likely-misbegotten comeback attempt Inglorious Basterds -- is something of a distant cousin of that director's oeuvre on the surface; while Cohen and company may never be partial to black eyeliner and bondage pants, the pastiche element (channeling and reconstituting the usual touchstones of Closer, Flowers of Romance, Mask, a tinge of 20 Jazz Funk Greats, and -- duh -- Pornography) is almost too cloying to fathom at times.

Ever so occasionally, however, the specious kind of pastiche that has been inculcated to us in overt and not-so-overt ways by the trepidatious postmodern hegemony over the past forty years can be successfully subverted -- witness the Astaire-meets-They Live By Night lunacy of Pierrot le fou -- and that is precisely what this Brooklyn-based trio does here. While the Curtis-on-helium vocals that permeate about half the tracks lend the proceedings an air of inveterate studiousness, other tracks (the mostly instrumental "Costume", "Shadows in Daylight") are suffused with decadent Teutonic-via-"Let's Go to Bed" synthesizers and loping drums that suggest a repudiation of the past. The arrythmic, distorted drum machines (one of those counterintuitive textural innovations rarely touched upon since Mtume's mid-70s stint with the Miles Davis) of "Night Shades" will mollify contemporary Brooklyn audiences, but it also hints at their far-reaching potential.

It is only inevitable that the Brooklyn scene will soon produce a Music from Big Pink or There's A Riot Goin' On for the disaffected masses of Generation Y, a musical conflagration of past and future that will lead to yet another paradigm shift in popular music. Silk Flowers is a taste of that looming change, and a subtle reminder that the best is yet to come.

Knitting Factory re-opens in Brooklyn with Les Savy Fav

2009-08-10T23:59:00.000-07:00

Since the late 80s, Tribeca's Knitting Factory has hosted postminimalist composers like Elodie Lauten and Arthur Russell, my friends in the Mighty Handful (who recently broke up due to the usual extenuating circumstances), Allen Ginsberg (who read his Selected Poems in a celebrated five-night engagement mere months before his death), scores of ska bands, Sixties commune ensemble YaHoWah 13, and even esteemed academic/Hudson Valley folk legend Harry Stoneback. It's the kind of curatorial diversity that you seldom see at Brooklyn shows these days, which is what makes the venue's upcoming move to Williamsburg so exciting.

After months of anticipation that built to a crescendo when the So So Glos announced a performance in their fall tour itinerary, it appears that local indie rock veterans Les Savy Fav are christening the new space on September 9th. One of the few groups anthologized on the seminal This Is Next Year: A Brooklyn-Based Compilation (2001) that are still active, "beardo" (as per his Pitchfork TV show) Tim Harrington's merry band of understated musicians are nothing less than a living history of local alternative music at this juncture. From the anarchic post-hardcore of early efforts like 3/5 to the dance-inflected art punk of 2007's Let's Stay Friends, they've always been ahead of the trends. Don't miss this.

Crate Dig: John Fahey/Peter Lang/Leo Kottke (1974)

2009-08-10T17:54:00.000-07:00

Somewhere in the endless stream of Liza Minnelli albums and worn-out Camelot soundtracks at Park Slope's venerated Record and Tape Shop, I came across this totemic countercultural gem. Rugged, paunchy -- and, in Fahey and Lang's case, already balding when this album was released in 1974 -- these cats were the unlikeliest of hippie idols (the rising sun and pliant birds of the cover completely notwithstanding, of course). Aside from their atypically self-reliant spirit (Fahey owned the independent Takoma Records long before creative control was fashionable) and dexterous mastery of fingerpicked blues stylings, what tied these musicians together was a commitment to virtuosity that exploited the spectrum of diffidence -- thus obviating any appearance of "virtuosity" in the textbook sense. For Fahey and his fellow "American Primitives", the unclassifiable and nebulous was a signpost to such genres as protean noise rock (Fahey's final recordings), New Age (Kottke's 80s output), and traditional blues (the motif that recurs throughout Lang's career).

Released five years after Takoma's greatest success (Kottke's debut, 6 and 12-String Guitar), this compilation was released with the consumer in mind; indeed, Kottke appears courtesy of Capitol Records. Listening to the bluesy "Cripple Creak" and "Red & White" today, it's difficult to fathom the guitarist's eventual retrenchment into Windham Hill somnambulance, although he probably was always the closest to Leon Redbone of the lot. Lang is even more of an anomaly, having eschewed music for a career as an animator throughout much of the 80s and 90s, and his playing is characterized by a certain hesitance here. While "St. Charles Shuffle" and "When Kings Come Home" are shamelessly derivative of Fahey and Kottke to the point where they come off as rote exercises, those strands converge into a highly individual style on the culminating "Thoth Song", a laconic melange of psychedelia, whitewashed folk, and traditional blues.

Although he never attained the relative commercial prominence of Kottke, Fahey -- a garrulous academic (he held a graduate degree in folklore studies from UCLA) and cult hero whose musical interests dovetailed more with the Velvet Underground than whatever the fellow adherents of Swami Satchidananda (his guru of circumstance) were listening to at the time -- emerges as the most commercially-oriented of the three on this release. "Revolt of the Dyke Brigade" is the guitarist at his effusive best, mixing front-porch bluesiness with caustic humor, but "On the Sunny Side of the Ocean" and "In Christ There is No East or West" constitute the dirgelike pap that necessitated the punk revolution. It's a marvel that Fahey couldn't carry a tune, or else these songs would have been indistinguishable from the products of the L.A. hit machine of the epoch. (Fahey would soon rebound with 1975's Old Fashioned Love, a bloozy collection of ragtime and jazzy pop that may be his best effort.)

All in all, John Fahey... is a satisfactory introduction to the American folk vanguard of the 1970s. Whether this is anybody's cup of tea amid the bravado of 2009 is anyone's guess, but the enduring popularity of Fahey amid younger listeners and Kottke's relentless touring schedule (he's playing the Hamptons soon) suggests that fingerpicking guitar is here to stay.

Featured Concerts: 8/08-8/15

2009-08-07T07:38:00.000-07:00

08/08: Big Daddy Kane, Rahzel, Blitz the Ambassador, Emilio Rojas, Retro Kidz
Prospect Park Bandshell
7 PM
Free

One of the most revered figures of the golden age of hip-hop, lifelong Brooklyn resident Big Daddy Kane -- best remembered for the seminal It's a Big Daddy Thing -- has exerted a tremendous influence on commercially-oriented MCs (Jay-Z was his protege in the early nineties) and the contemporary alternative scene. Along with Chuck D, Kane was one of the first rap lyricists to combine lyrical acuity with the braggadocio of the streets, providing an essential template for the Wu Tang collective and most New York MCs since 1990. Among the opening acts are Ghananian polymath Blitz the Ambassador (whose globe-trotting Stereotype was just released to favorable reviews) and hi-top fade revivalists the Retro Kidz, whose 1987 electro sound will doubtless thrill any fans of the era.

8/08: Brooklyn Electronic Music Festival: The Juan MacLean, Young Love, Designer Drugs, many others
The Old American Can Factory (232 3rd St.)
4 PM
$25

No, the line-up is not nearly as interesting as I had initially envisaged. But the Juan MacLean are a formidable live act, and DJs like Ayres and Roxy Cottontail will transport you back to the glory days of The Shank or Studio B. Young Love is a dubious choice, but their dearth of new material means that they've probably been cooking up some interesting tunes over the past few years. With 12 hours of dancing at a rate commensurate with those charged by the avaricious promoters of modern clubland, a deal is a deal.

08/15: Publicist, Ian Svenonious, Justin Miller, Jacques Renault, Lovefingers
Market Hotel (1142 Myrtle Av.)
12 AM
$10

Co-promoted by the venerable Todd P. and the fellows behind San Francisco's Donuts parties (they've hosted Lindstrom and techno innovator Juan Atkins in recent months), this off-kilter dance extravaganza features Washington post-hardcore veteran/indie impresario Ian Svenonius, disco revivalist Jacques Renault, and minimalist blogger/producer Lovefingers. If that isn't enough of an incentive, the cover includes free vegan baked goods.

08/08: Seasick Steve, The Woes, Pete Bernhard
Southpaw (125 5th Av.)
8 PM
$15

While he often looks like a disheveled and potentially deranged panhandler who frequents the R line, rest assured: Seasick Steve is much cooler than we could ever hope to be. Trained as a blues guitarist by K.C. Douglas (the writer of "Mercury Blues"), Steve (nee Steven Wold) has spent much of his life as an itinerant train-hopping hobo, busker, and migrant worker. That said, his music industry acquaintances are nothing short of stellar -- a pal of Janis Joplin and Joni Mitchell on the folk circuit in the 60s, he produced Modest Mouse's debut album in the mid-nineties and befriended Kurt Cobain while living in Olympia in the late eighties. Properly discovered in his own right after moving to Norway in 2001, the bluesman -- and recent British sensation -- is best known for his diverse array of customized instruments, including the "Three-String Trance Wonder" (a hollowbody guitar with only three strings), a one-stringed diddley bow, and the "Mississippi Drum Machine" (a wooden box that he stomps on). Opening are The Woes, an Americana/country blues outfit quite compatible with Steve's ramshackle style.

08/15: Six Finger Satellite, Pterodactyl, Pop 1280
Southpaw (125 5th Av.)
8 PM
$12

More than the effete purists in Neutral Milk Hotel, Six Finger Satellite were the most influential indie rock band of the mid-to-late nineties. Embracing Eighties revivalism and the sounds of krautrock well before either became fashionable, their legacy ranges the gamut from James Murphy and John MacLean of DFA Records fame to the local noise rock scene. Openers Pterodactyl purvey a brand of spacey noise rock that is quite copacetic with the headliners' extreme sound.

The Mighty Sparrow (and Sean Paul) come to Brooklyn

2009-08-06T17:09:00.000-07:00

Much as the Tammany Hall machine once wooed prospective supporters with riotous block parties during its late nineteenth century heyday, Marty Markowitz has all but secured my vote this year with his strident dedication to the arts. Over the past two years, Markowitz-sponsored neighborhood music festivals (like Coney Island's Seaside Summer Concerts) have brought Brian Wilson, John Sebastian, Donna Summer, and Blondie (the latter two in the coming weeks) to Brooklyn... gratis. This is a far cry from my childhood a mere decade ago, when events of the same pedigree seemed to be the perpetual stalking grounds of cover bands and doo-wop groups that may or may not have featured the original members. (While I will readily concede that some vocal groups have aged gracefully and the "tribute band" moniker should not be equated with censoriousness, the exceptions are far outnumbered by the middling masses.)

But I digress.

Occassionally, Marty's cadre of programmers will hit a homer so far out of the park that the increasing vicissitudes of life in the city become immediately worthwhile. This is exemplified by Caribbean Night -- the capstone concert of the Martin Luther King Concert Series at Wingate Field in Crown Heights on August 24th -- which, as part of a time-honored borough tradition, will feature the 74 year old (and thoroughly inimitable) Mighty Sparrow.

Although Harry Belafonte was anointed as the King of Calypso after his mammoth popular successes in the 1950s, the actor/singer/activist was naturally reticent to accept the title. Throughout the Caribbean, the Grenada-born Sparrow (who grew up in Trinidad and has spent considerable time in Queens) has defined the idiom for generations of fans. Blending effusive lyrics that touch upon social commentary and more ribald matters to beats and horn arrangements that presaged funk, the music of Sparrow (nee Slinger Francisco) was -- and is -- a hedonistic, intransigent antithesis to the catholic interpretations of Belefonte; in the process, he has embraced more contemporary styles such as soca. (Indeed, Sparrow last won the prestigious Carnival Road March music prize in 1984, well into his fifties.) Briefly signed to RCA at the behest of Belafonte in the late 50s, Sparrow's extemporizations -- evoking, according to Robert Christgau, "African roots, interracial revenge, interracial sex, male-female relations, and cannibalism" -- failed to resonate with a Middle America already bedraggled by the exotica of early rock and roll, and the calypsonian promptly retreated to Britain.

One of the more ardent champions of Sparrow's oeuvre was Van Dyke Parks, the diminutive songwriter best known for his collaborations with Brian Wilson and the 1968 commercial folly Song Cycle. Parks's follow-up to Song Cycle, the beguiling Discover America (1972) was a de facto tribute to the singer and his cohorts (including the irascible Lord Kitchener), with Parks covering the whimsical "Jack Palance". Their connection culminated in 1974's Hot and Sweet, a seldom-heard Sparrow album produced by Parks that stands as one of my most coveted albums. (Does anyone have a copy?)

Sparrow is opening for dancehall sensation Sean Paul, but it would be a disservice to your musical palette if you failed to experience him in the flesh. And as its a free show, why not?

Clay Cole and the Paramount Theater

2009-08-05T11:33:00.000-07:00

Although this blog is mainly geared towards contemporary music, one would be remiss in dismissing Brooklyn's storied musical heritage. Long before the borough's ascendancy in the popular eye of the 2000s, the Paramount Theater -- located at the intersection of Flatbush and DeKalb Avenues on the border between Fort Greene and the downtown district -- served as the premier venue for three generations of pop acts in a reign that spanned the jazz and rock eras. From a celebrated Duke Ellington performance in 1931 to Miles Davis's flippantly cool jazz to the theater's halcyon days in the late Fifties, when Little Richard and Chuck Berry regaled northern audiences with their provocative fusion of country and R&B music, the Paramount was nothing less than a microcosm of the pop charts. Alas, all good things must come to an end, and 47 years ago this August 23rd (as per Eagle historian John Manbeck), the redoubtable theater closed, having been purchased by Long Island University in 1960 as the cornerstone of their Brooklyn campus. (Soul progenitor Jackie Wilson, "Mr. Excitement" himself, was the final performer.) Although the 4,124-seat Paramount was equipped with full theatrical facilities, films were the bread and butter of the theater's profits; as ticket sales began to be eclipsed by television, the behemoth movie palaces of yesteryear simply couldn't compete with the new medium.

After a legendary payola scandal destroyed the career of rock and roll factotum Alan Freed in 1958, Clay Cole stepped into the void as one of New York's most recognizable musical ambassadors. Described as a more urbane version of American Bandstand and the Buddy Deane Show (the inspiration for Hairspray), the Clay Cole Show introduced audiences to Chubby Checker (who first performed "The Twist" on the program), Brooklyn's own Neil Diamond, and late comedians George Carlin & Richard Pryor in their pre-countercultural incarnations. Cole also took over promotional duties at the Paramount, with his ten-day 1960 Christmas spectacular breaking the venue's all-time box office record. It would not be an understatement to say that Cole played an integral role in keeping the nascent flames of rock and soul alive when so many of their initial exponents had been neutralized.

Disenchanted with psychedelia, Cole left the music business in 1968 to pursue a behind-the-scenes career as an Emmy-winning director of television specials. Although he has retired to North Carolina, Cole returned to Brooklyn this past March for a symposium and revival show honoring the Paramount Theater at Long Island University (while the theater now functions as the university's gymnasium, enough of the original structure -- including the cherished Wurlitzer organ -- has been preserved to allow for occasional concerts featuring many of the same performers who played there 50 years ago). And, most intriguingly of all, the former impresario is releasing his memoir -- Sh-Boom! The Explosion of Rock 'n' Roll (1953-1968) -- this October. If the accompanying publicity is any indication, local fans can expect plenty of Paramount stories in this essential addition to the body of rock literature.

Show Review: Dan Deacon/Deerhunter/No Age

2009-08-03T12:13:00.000-07:00

It seemed illogical and just a tad bemusing on paper. Although Dan Deacon, Deerhunter, and No Age are among the most popular crossover acts to have emerged from the indie scene, their respective styles couldn't be any more disparate. The enigmatic Deacon, who is arguably better known for his showmanship than his musical output at this stage, fuses wordless adenoidal vocals (Philip Glass on Ritalin would not be an exaggeration) with electronic instrumentation; it's dance music absolved of its funky underpinnings. With roots in Brooklyn and Georgia, Deerhunter's imaginatively loping take on psychedelia and relentless touring garnered a huge fanbase throughout 2008. Finally, the ruffians in No Age have embraced the contrarian strains of primeval punk rock, all the while subsuming their classicism in the requisite dollops of noise that are somehow equated with ingenuity in the eclectic waters of 2009. It may be a coldly calculated sound, yet it somehow remains imprinted on the brain -- musical Ubik, if you will.

Initially scheduled as part of the free Pool Parties series at East River State ParkKent Avenue in Williamsburg, yesterday's inclimate weather forced the show to be moved to nearby Brooklyn Bowl on North 11th Street. With a capacity of around 600, the bowling alley (one of only five left in the borough) could not comfortably accommodate the large turnout, fueling the flames of irreverent commenters on the popular BrooklynVegan blog; before long, a second show was hastily added. Despite the initial fracas, the show did not turn into a boondoggle like the final day of the All Points West festival in New Jersey -- indeed, some commenters were referring to the first concert as "the concert of the year" before midnight.

After an opening act, the three headliners performed "round robin" style. For the uninitiated, this uniquely Baltimorian style of performance involves all acts performing on stage at once, switching after every song. It is certainly more egalitarian than the traditional mode of performance (a boon to the musicians), while the format inherently lends itself to a more varied type of show -- one where inter-band collusions are very common. In a highlight of the evening, Dan Deacon spontaneously dueted with Deerhunter's Bradford Cox (a truly genial soul who thanked audience members while waiting in the very long queue).

Lacking much of the usual histrionics, the Deacon songs were by far the weakest of the evening. On his last tour, the rotund Baltimorean was joined by an ensemble of live musicians who added a new level of panache to his frantic compositions. The Brooklyn Bowl set, on the contrary, skewed heavily towards note-by-note recreations of material from his latest album (Bromst); without the net of the backing band, Deacon was forced to attend to his array of clangorous machines instead of indulging in the crowd dancing that he prefers. No Age also yielded towards their album in their pro forma set, but the throng of dancers towards the front of the stage reminded skeptics that there is still room for odd gesticulations at rock and roll shows. Thank heavens.

It was Deerhunter that stole the show for me. Since seeing them well over a year ago, the permanently emaciated Cox (like Joey Ramone and Michael Phelps, he suffers from Marfan syndrome) has matured into a Morrisonian frontman, controlling the audience with a gravitas not seen all that often among today's diffident musicians. While Microcastle and Cryptograms were good albums, hearing those songs in their live iterations only reinforced their preeminence. Truly captivating stuff.

As the show concluded with a Dan Deacon light show and a two-way drone jam between No Age and Deerhunter, I smiled. It certainly wasn't the best show of the year, but all three acts had beat the odds with grace.

MyPod: "Deadbeat Summer" by Neon Indian

2009-08-03T10:10:00.000-07:00

Neon Indian have yet to release an album, but you wouldn't know that from the hyperbolic plaudits that can be found in Rolling Stone and recent Pitchfork posts. Comprised of Austin-via-suburban Dallas auteur Alan Palomo (best known for his work with Ghosthustler, perhaps the only group in recent history to make it on an MTV channel without releasing a single album) and Brooklyn-based video artist Alicia Scardetta, the band stands on the putative forefront of the nascent "chillwave" movement -- which, for all the furrowed eyebrows out there, is a mediaspeak descriptor for post-MGMT electro/psychedelic rock that will likely enter the popular vernacular for about three minutes in October (c.f. new rave, freak folk). This is probably a good thing, as Palomo and Scardetta are actually pioneering a new -- and most unclassifiable -- metier equally informed by avant-garde art, saccharine pop, the backwoods breakbeats of Black Moth Super Rainbow, and the enduring legacy of such quintessentially Texan mavericks as Roky Erickson. Spurious hype notwithstanding, they are the real thing.

With a paucity of good summer songs this year (Pitbull's "Calle Ocho" was on the radio in March here in New York, while the apocalyptic, timorous "Voodoo City" by YACHT evoked visions of William Burroughs on the beach), Neon Indian have stepped improbably into the void with "Deadbeat Summer". Over a bed of detuned synthesizers and heavily processed lo-fi guitars, Palomo murmurs vacuous lyrics (a la Michael Stipe circa 1983) before concluding that "it's like a deadbeat summer". The bass and drums may lack the "momentum" discerned by Pitchfork's reviewer -- indeed, the beat is more comparable to a hip-hop or left field dub reggae production than anything by Gary Numan or the Human League -- but for those of us who have been looking to replace "Genius of Love" with a contemporary song on our summer mix CDs for some time now, this will certainly suffice.

Psychic Chasms, their first full length release (at 30 minutes, it's been alternatively described as an EP and an album... go figure), is due on October 13th. Until then, sate your taste for the new sound by downloading "Deadbeat Summer" for free at Prefix magazine's website.

Featured Concerts: 8/01-8/08

2009-07-31T10:07:00.000-07:00

08/06: Lift (DJs: Steve Lowenthal [Swingset Magazine]/Bobbi Lupo [Apartment Show]/Miho Hatori [formerly of Cibo Matto] and Cassie [Vivian Girls])

The Bell House (149 7th Street)
10 PM
Free

Celebrate what would have been Andy Warhol's 81st (!) birthday at the Bell House with a phalanx of leading scenesters. Scheduled activities include a "make your own Brillo box" workshop, screen tests in the style of Warhol's mid-60s oeuvre (these will be posted on the Internet), and -- naturally -- covering the DJ booth in silver foil. About as fabulous as a sweaty August night can get.

08/06: Styles P, Metermaids, NSR, Soulico Crew

Southpaw (125 5th Av.)

$15 adv/$20 door

9 PM

08/07: Freeway, Hezekiah, Kimberly Nicole
Southpaw (125 5th Av.)

$15 adv/$20 door
9 PM

The eclectic Rock the Block Fest juxtaposes gangsta era veterans like Styles P and Freeway with a number of ascendant acts, including the Tel Aviv-based Soulico Crew. Those disenchanted with mainstream hip-hop's recent turn towards the dancefloor will likely enjoy the block rocking beats and erudite rhymes that will predominate here.

08/08: Jonathan Toubin's New York Night Train
Market Hotel (1142 Myrtle Av.)
TBA
4 AM

Specializing in danceable soul records from the pre-disco era, Jonathan Toubin's esoteric take on dance music has earned him an avid following in the indie community, with over 600 people crowding into the low-capacity Market Hotel for one of his recent parties. (Toubin also presided over the bacchanalia at The Shank, an ill-fated Williamsburg after-hours club recently chronicled in the New York Press.) While Toubin will be spinning at his monthly Soul Clap & Dance Off at Glasslands earlier in the evening, this Todd P-sponsored after-hours "speakeasy" is bound to be the more exciting event for intrepid partiers.

08/04: Baseline (Pilar Baizan)
Issue Project Room (232 3rd St.)
$12 adv/$15 door
8 PM

Beginning as a video artist, Basque musician Pilar Baizan began to drift into the realm of electronic noise with her Baseline project in the mid-2000s. According to the press release, "she starts working with glitches, field recordings, sounds of synthesis... she manipulates loops and sound fragments to make dense and heavy compositions. She often accompanies her shows with video, which are intended to provide more depth to the sound, an idea which comes from video-art." The concert is but a part of a greater program celebrating avant-garde Basque music, which will also include a lecture (“Sound Art in the Basque Country Today”) by Txema Agiriano and video excerpts from the MEM arts festival.

Titus Andronicus and So So Glos confirmed for new Knitting Factory

2009-07-29T22:16:00.000-07:00

Since galvanizing the local live music cognoscenti last year with news of their impending move to Brooklyn, the proprietors of the Knitting Factory have been -- ahem -- taking their time. The Leonard Street venue has remained opened in a diminished capacity throughout the summer, and as per this report, renovations of the erstwhile Luna Lounge space have been occurring at what can best be described as a leisurely pace.

However, it seems that relief is finally in sight. Bushwick-via-Bay Ridge indie punks The So So Glos are teaming up with New Jersey rabblerousers Titus Andronicus for a September sojourn that culminates on October 15 at the new Knitting Factory. (For those who simply can't wait for this pairing of the prolific bands, the tour begins on September 2nd at Monster Island Basement in Williamsburg.) Whether this will be the premiere event at the club is unknown as of yet, but Brooklyn Music will have all the details. In any case, both of these groups are among the best currently operating in the oft-overhyped medium of indie rock, so be sure to give them a listen or two.

Review: My World by Lee Fields & The Expressions

2009-07-29T21:03:00.001-07:00

The peripatetic story of Lee Fields is nothing short of a rock and roll cliche on the surface. Emerging in the waning years of the chitlin circuit (a predominantly black network of theaters that included such touchstones as the Regal in Chicago and Harlem's legendary Apollo) in the late 60s and early 70s, the North Carolina-born Fields immediately elicited attention for his gravely, sonorous voice, often likened by neophytes to "a poor man's James Brown". Not only did the Brown comparisons belie melodic gifts that were commensurate to and probably exceeded the Godfather's talents, they precluded him from making any tangible inroads into the music industry -- a couple of ribald singles (1973's "Let's Talk It Over" and 1975's "Funky Screw") notwithstanding, Fields was not coming to a record store near you. Years of relentless touring culminated in the release of Let's Talk It Over in 1979; aside from a tasteful concession to disco ("Wanna Dance"), the album is an anachronistic hodge-podge of mid-60s R&B and primeval uptempo funk (the JBs-esque "Flim Flam", recently sampled by Madlib).

After the obscure 1984 electro foray "Shake It Lady", Fields migrated to Brooklyn and fell off the radar. 1992's Enough is Enough is a risible comeback effort that finds the crooner extemporizing over MIDI tracks, but copies currently fetch upwards of $70.00 on amazon.com -- a direct result of the return to form that began in earnest with Let's Get A Groove On in 1998. As the lodestar of the Brooklyn soul revival, the album paired the venerable singer with a crack backing group (one that would eventually metamorphose into Sharon Jones's Dap-Kings and the ensemble behind Amy Winehouse on "Rehab") that effortlessly repurposed the dynamics of early funk with the verve of contemporary hip-hop. 2002 brought a further refinement of the retro-tinged sound with Problems, and the recent My World -- recorded in conjunction with his latest band, the Expressions -- finds Fields finally on the precipice of breaking through to the mainstream with his best effort yet.

From the scorching trumpet solo in the opening "Do You Love Me" to the heavily arpeggiated guitars of "These Moments", much of My World showcases the technically sophisticated metier of the Expressions, who clearly operate in the lineage of early Philly soul (think The Delfonics). This could be daunting for a gutbucket-style singer like Fields, but as "Ladies" and "Honey Dove" ably demonstrate, his withered voice can still carry a demanding ballad or two. If those tracks are too ersatz-JB for you, be sure to download "My World Is Empty Without You", a lilting leviathan of sleigh bells, Latin percussion, and choral vocals that (un)intentionally recalls the sui generis of Phil Spector. On a handful of instrumentals, the affected nature of the venture threatens to come to the fore, but the timeless nature of the instrumentation -- heavy on punchy horn arrangements, light on the accouterments of bad 70s production -- will keep the listener returning for more.

All in all, My World -- as belated as it may be -- is a validating gesture for the thousands of soul shouters whose outputs have languished in record bins for the past thirty years. Lee Fields is one of the greats, and after a spin of this nugget, you'll doubtless agree.

Merce Cunningham: 1919-2009

2009-07-28T08:57:00.000-07:00

Although he wasn't a musician, renowned choreographer Merce Cunningham -- who died of unspecified causes at his Manhattan apartment Sunday night -- had an indelible impact on the development of experimental music in the late 20th Century. As the life partner of John Cage from the late 1940s to Cage's death in 1992, Cunningham served as one of his most important patrons; concurrent with and after his lifelong collaboration with Cage, Cunningham would choreograph dances to music by David Tudor, Takehisa Kosugi, Gavin Bryars, Mikel Rouse, John Paul Jones of Led Zeppelin, Radiohead and Sonic Youth.

It was only natural that Cunningham's musical palette would err towards the abstruse and experimental. As a theorist, he shared Cage's dogged beliefs that dance and music should be extricated from their mutual underpinnings in other mediums, and frequently applied the I Ching-and-Zen-informed chance operations devised by his companion to his own work. "It's a very easy way to make decisions -- very simple," Cunningham said in a 1998 interview. "If you can't make up your mind about something, toss a coin and then accept it. Accept it." But in spite of these aleatoric leanings, Marc Swed of the Los Angeles Times described him as an "excellent and extravagant storyteller" not necessarily beholden to the Modernist leanings that shaped his early career. Cunningham's approach was eventually validated by the academy with the Kennedy Center Honors and National Medal of Arts, awards that the intractable Cage was never considered for. Throughout it all, the choreographer maintained his trademark magnanimity. When a party acquaintance lambasted Brooklyn-based Mark Morris -- arguably the heir to Cunningham's legacy as the most visible exponent of experimental contemporary dance -- for his rhythmic, music-based work, Cunningham simply rejoindered that Morris was his friend.

Having collaborated with the New York City Ballet, the Zurich Ballet, and myriad other organizations, Cunningham's company developed a close relationship with the Brooklyn Academy of Music in recent years, premiering important new works in 2003 (Split Sides) and 2009 (Nearly Ninety, performed on his 90th birthday) at the Lafayette Street venue. With Nearly Ninety eliciting some of the best reviews of Cunningham's career, it goes without saying that he will be missed.

The Steely Dan-Brooklyn connection

2009-07-26T21:17:00.000-07:00

For most people, Steely Dan are synonymous with the studio-bred meticulousness that permeated most California pop records of the 1970s. To this day, the irrefragably good "Do It Again", not to mention the circuitous "Aja" -- among many other songs -- continue to evoke the less than salubrious denizens of otherwise unimpeachable SoCal coastal towns, places like San Pedro and Huntington Beach. Long before American pop culture centered itself on the praxis of deconstructing the motivations of vapid models and pseudo-cult leaders, Walter Becker and Donald Fagen were doing it with remarkable acuity.

But before the misanthropic duo embarked on their westward sojourn, Becker and Fagen -- who grew up in the New York suburbs and met as disgruntled students at Bard College in Dutchess County -- served as pioneers in another sense. Popular legend holds that they slummed it out in Brooklyn between 1969 and 1971 while pursuing their mutual dream of attaining success as professional songwriters; according to biographer Brian Sweet, only Fagen lived in the borough (in a President Street apartment with his girlfriend), while Becker stayed with his sister and grandmother in Queens. Although their stay was comparatively short, it was intensely prolific -- in addition to demoing dozens of songs (including "Brooklyn", which later appeared on their Can't Buy A Thrill EP), they toured as backing musicians for Jay & the Americans. Relations between the clean-cut band and the hippieish duo were acrimonious at best -- Jay Black (already ensnared in the gambling addiction that would drive him into bankruptcy) was fond of calling them "the Manson and Starkweather of rock and roll," while Becker and Fagen developed private in-jokes that left other band members on edge. Still, the twosome brought a new spirit to the group's tepid repertoire, adding Motown-style bridges to otherwise banal songs.

In addition to one song ("I Mean to Shine"), the most enduring contribution from the Brooklyn years was the soundtrack to You've Got to Walk It Like You Talk It or You'll Lose That Beat, an obscure film starring Richard Pryor. While the music is far from the sophisticated jazz-rock of later efforts, instrumentals like "Flotsam and Jetsam" -- driven by Fagen's wah-wahed electric piano -- are underpinned by the same bluesy structures that characterize the more accomplished "Reelin' in the Years". The soundtrack is still available as an import -- or, for the more daring, on numerous file sharing sites.

For those who are interested, Steely Dan play the Beacon Theater this week.

Venue Spotlight: Littlefield; Kaki King gets artsy

2009-07-26T17:55:00.000-07:00

The economic downturn has had an adverse effect on the local concert scene this summer. At least three major venues (Studio B, Vanishing Point, and the oft-maligned Shank) have either suspended operations indefinitely or closed for good. And while the D.I.Y. spaces -- places like the Market Hotel, Monster Island Basement, and Death by Audio -- continue to draw large (albeit slightly homogeneous) crowds, their programming seems to have ossified into the same retinue of musicians. On the other side of the coin, more business-oriented venues like the Music Hall of Williamsburg and Bell House have severely curtailed their schedules, underscoring the gravity of the situation. It seems absurd to think of a $10 or $15 ticket as a luxury item when even the more respectable heritage acts (such as Bob Dylan & Willie Nelson, whose minor-league ballpark tour is unfortunately bypassing KeySpan Park) charge upwards of $200 for a single seat, but such is the curse of the zeitgeist. Until the storm finally begins to dissipate, it seems that the Brooklyn scene will lie in an odd form of stasis, still the subject of endless media inquisition -- at least until something grander rolls around -- but unable to truly live up to the "music capital of the world" appellation recently bestowed upon the borough by David Harrington of the Kronos Quartet.

Yet even in these trying times, the muses continue to be heard. The heretofore derelict industrial town of Gowanus seems to be supplanting the north Brooklyn corridor as the center for local live performance these days (quite thankfully for south Brooklynites who don't value interminably long late-night subway trips), with the Bell House, Old American Can Factory, and Issue Project Room all in the area. Recently joining their ranks is Littlefield, a performance and art space at 622 DeGraw Street. Like many of the new crop, music is only a part of a multifarious business plan that extends -- according to owners Julie Kim and Scott Koshnoodi -- to "art exhibits, literary events, and film screenings." Over the course of the next month, they will be hosting concerts by the likes of Bernie Worrell's SociaLybrium (July 29th and 30th), teen math-rock stalwarts Fiasco (August 2nd), and local singer-songwriter/busker Kaki King's The Exhibition (August 7th). According to the press release,

Sprung from the idea of using paint to visually represent the wide range of movement of King's virtuosic guitar playing, The Exhibition has now grown to involve much more than just paint. Each artist/fan was given the blank canvas of a guitar to shape, break, build, and form around the theme of a Kaki song of their choice. Hailing from all corners of the United States, each artist has taken his or her guitar in wildly different directions that range from ant farms, to delicate etchings and even to creating an explosion! Many are also incorporating Kaki's hand movement into their design. Follow their progress at the Facebook page.

For more information, click here.

Featured Concerts: 7/24-7/31

2009-07-23T16:42:00.000-07:00

Rather than assembling a tedious and interminably long calendar in the tradition of previous posts, I've opted to revamp this feature altogether and trim the fat by selecting the best concerts at Brooklyn's leading venues this week. In addition to ogling the accompanying photos, feel free to sound off in the comments if I have been remiss in neglecting your favorite artist!

"Old Rockers Never Die, They Just..."

07/24: Roy Loney & Cyril Jordan of The Flamin' Groovies with The A-Bones, The Underthings

Southpaw (125 5th Av.)

$15 adv/$20 door

8 PM

Despite the confusing moniker foisted upon this concert by its strangely genteel promoter (New York magazine, of all entities), Loney and Jordan are 2/3rds of the original 1965 trio and the primary creative forces behind 1970's Luddite tour de force Teenage Head. For the uninitiated, the Groovies were the lone reactionaries in the San Francisco scene, erring towards a guttural sound that owed more to the histrionics and twangy guitars of Sun Records than "At the Hop"-flavored nostalgia. Providing what will surely be more than proficient backing to these niche legends are The A-Bones, Brooklyn's rough-and-tumble contribution to the original garage rock revival of the 1980s. While fans of the Groovies' later (and better known) incarnation as saccharine profferers of power pop will not be appeased, any fan of traditional rock and roll will appreciate this performance.

"Further Complications..."

07/30: Jarvis Cocker, Little Joy

Music Hall of Williamsburg (66 N. 6th St.):
$40

8 PM

This concert was initially scheduled for Terminal 5, a cavernous and aesthetically inhospitable venue in Midtown. Alas, Cocker's Stateside following has always been marginal at best (he could easily be likened to Ray Davies in this regard), so it was rescheduled for the less capacious Brooklyn venue when ticket sales failed to live up to expectations. First gaining belated fame with Pulp in the 1990s -- they had recorded their first John Peel session in 1981 -- Cocker returns to his melancholic, self-loathing roots with the recent Further Complications, an album that finds him paradoxically incorporating new influences from electro. The show is nominally sold out... but don't be surprised if a few tickets are put up for sale in the hours preceding the concert.

"Our Band Could Be Your Life"

07/25: Museyroom, The Beach Arabs, The Mighty Handful, Banzai

Shea Stadium (85A Debevoise Av.)

< $10

8 PM

Probably the best indie rock show of the week, or at least the most diverse. Museyroom's brand of scintillating post-rock is as danceable as it is prolix, while the Beach Arabs' feral kick will leave any jaded poseur dancing in the aisles. It's also the last performance of the Mighty Handful, a great Park Slope-based ensemble profiled on this blog and in my earlier column, Music Junkie. Considering that half the crowd will probably be on stage by the end, it will be the furthest thing from a requiem mass!

"And Now For Something Completely Different..."

07/31: The Mekons, The Horse's Ha

The Bell House (149 7th Street)

$15

7 PM

The Mekons are the oldest continually active British punk band; over the past thirty years, they've expanded their purview from three-chord thrashers to whiskey-sodden epics. Playing semi-acoustically (in other words, expect the set to be heavy on country), they're paired with The Horse's Ha, a British/American outfit that has fused bossa nova and British folk to considerable acclaim.

Free Concert Roundup

2009-07-22T07:39:00.000-07:00

Although midsummer is rapidly approaching, there are still many free -- and local -- performances that can quench your musical thirst in these tough economic times. Here are some of the more intriguing selections that I have yet to cover here.

Met in the Park:

Coffey Park (Red Hook)

Friday, August 14, 2009 at 7 p.m.

Joyce El-Khoury, soprano ; Keith Miller, bass; Vlad Iftinca, pianist; Damon Gupton, host

No, it is not a full-scale Metropolitan Opera performance, but the opportunity to see two of the world's finest opera singers in a Red Hook park should not be disavowed. The repertoire is still TBA, making it even more of a delectable surprise.

CityParks Foundation:

Red Hook Park & Recreation Center

Tuesday, August 18, 2009 at 7 p.m.

DJ Premier, Pete Rock, Danny Castro

One of the seminal figures of contemporary turntablism (Premier) teams up with underground hip-hop's finest producer (Pete Rock) for what should be an exhilerating performance.

Brower Park (Crown Heights)

Wednesday, July 29, 2009 at 7 p.m.

Wayne Wonder

The progenitor of reggae/dancehall's cross-pollination with R&B earlier this decade, Wayne Wonder was an important influence on Shaggy and Sean Paul. You may remember his 2003 hit "No Letting Go".

Marty Golden's Summer Concert Series:

Shore Road Park (Bay Ridge -- 79th Street entrance)

Tuesday, July 28, 2009 at 7 p.m.

France Joli

Best known for her 1979 hit "Come to Me", France Joli -- whose career received an unanticipated boost when she was asked to fill in for Donna Summer at a Fire Island party -- was one of the last disco divas.

Jazz continues at Alta Voce

2009-07-21T08:30:00.000-07:00

Just a reminder that Park Slope's Alta Voce restaurant (318 5th Avenue) is continuing to offer live jazz on Wednesday nights from 8:00 to 10:30. This week, vocalist Tierney Ryan is performing with accompanists Yuki Yamiguchi (piano) and Chris Davidson (drums). After a performance by Ayako Shirasaki and Sanae Kojima next week, the venue will be hosting return engagements by the Audrey Silver Trio, Nell Rumbaug, and Christian Nourijanian. There is no set cover, although management asks that patrons maintain a two drink minimum at the bar or a $15 tab in the restaurant area. For more information, click here.

Spank Rock triumph (and nearly get arrested), Built to Spill as dulcet as ever at Siren 2009

2009-07-19T19:12:00.001-07:00

With temperatures hovering in the low eighties and the beach draped in crimson twilight, one could not have asked for more favorable weather at the conclusion to this year's Siren Music Festival. While the pernicious stomach flu kept me from catching some of the estimable (and yes, not-so-estimable) acts earlier in the day, I mustered just enough strength to catch the festival's headliners -- wizened rockers Built to Spill (at the main stage) and Baltimore club outfit Spank Rock (at the cavernous Stillwell stage, adjacent to Nathan's and the boardwalk).

One of the last vestiges of the nineties alt-rock exposition -- like the Flaming Lips, they were granted unusual creative autonomy by Warner Brothers -- the former group melds hallucinatory, Neil Young-via-Guided By Voices guitars to the broodingly ethereal vocals of world's sexiest vegetarian Doug Martsch. Yet their widespread appeal has always eluded me, and the Siren set -- which captured Martsch looking more haggard than ruggedly masculine -- was almost akin to the paint-by-numbers performance of a heritage act. The opening "Liar" and playfully wry "Dystopian Dream Girl" were immediate standouts, and the nature of the free show absolved any complaints of their merit, but it was still fairly underwhelming. That the reverent crowd skewed relatively young was a surprise that still mystifies over a day later.

By and large the most eclectic act of the indie-centric festival, Spank Rock demonstrated that they've still retained their ribald edge some three years after the release of the incendiary YoYoYoYo. Frontman Naeem Juwan has acquired a Sly Stone-like reputation for missing gigs in some circles, and the collective's (an ever rotating line-up ensures that they are not a band in the traditional sense) dearth of new recordings over the past two years left me expecting the worst. Undoubtedly aware of these perceptions, Juwan and company were exceptionally punctual, taking the stage to the strains of B.T. Express's "Peace Pipe" at their scheduled time of 8 PM. Looking more gaunt and emaciated than usual, Juwan was a spectral force at the show, ceding control after the first four songs to local rap legends Ninjasonik and regular collaborator Amanda Blank (whose solo debut I Love You -- co-produced by Brooklyn wunderkind Dave Sitek -- is dropping on August 4th). Clad in one of her trademark black minidresses, the vampish Blank was the unquestionable highlight of the show, exuding a feral presence that only upped the ante for Juwan -- who was subsequently escorted away from the stage by security.

The final verdict? After two lackluster years, Siren seems poised to reclaim its status as one of the nation's finest free music festivals.

Review: Rated O by Oneida

2009-07-18T10:05:00.000-07:00

Part of this post is sheer repentance. Since going pro about a year and a half ago, I've relentlessly harangued Brooklyn-based Oneida for their amelodic diffidence. While I tend to favor music with repetitive structures, their faux-krautrock was never appealing to me -- the best tracks were merely odious, while the worst were flagrant emulations of Ash Ra Tempel and Amon Duul tracks that were close to my heart. But on their newest release, Rated O -- a sprawling triple album issued last week on Jagjaguwar Records -- they have crafted their finest statement, a diaphanous mess in the storied tradition of Exile on Main St. and Zen Arcade that somehow congeals into the best Brooklyn-related album of the year.

As many of their contemporaries (from Grizzly Bear to Animal Collective to the eccentrics in Gang Gang Dance) have embraced the trenchant winds of conformity, Oneida have not lost sight of their contrarian cusp-of-the-decade roots, taking their porous inscrutability to new heights here. With so many ensembles burning out and fading away into the depths of the noosphere after an album or two, they've remained steadfastly indefatigable. Like Exile, it is sequenced in genre-pillaging segments of three or four songs. The madcap electro sequence of "Brownout in Lagos", "What's Up, Jackal?", and "10:30 at the Oasis" may be their most confident and exigent work yet, while "The River" and "I Will Haunt You" are room-clearing classic rock mutations that find the band as sprightly as ever. The concluding "Folk Wisdom" stands as both a recapitulation and an invocation to something new.

As accessible as it is prolix, here's hoping that more artists follow in this album's vanguard lead.

MyPod: "When I'm Gone" by Vivian Girls

2009-07-15T17:21:00.000-07:00

Last year, Brooklyn-via-New Jersey transplants Vivian Girls attracted international acclaim for their eponymously-titled, self-released debut, which fetched upwards of $100 on Ebay until reissued by In the Red Records last autumn. The reason is simple -- while we armchair critics can harrangue Grizzly Bear or the Dirty Projectors for their falsely portentious solipsism, liken Here We Go Magic's Luke Temple to a poor man's David Crosby (actually, Vini Reilly may be more analogous... and quite frankly, Temple's preferable to both), or scoff at the media machinations behind the Pains at Being Pure At Heart, the Girls are like buttah. Shambolic and fecklessly ambulatory in the way that is practically synonymous with good rock and roll -- a quality lost on the neo-shoegazers -- they are one of the few contemporary local bands that have the capability to be transcendent. Which is saying a lot, considering that drum kits and electromechanical guitars seem as anachronistic as a 57' Chevy in the touch-screen milieu of 2009.

"When I'm Gone" is the debut single from the gals' upcoming Everything Goes Wrong, and as I prognosticated in an earlier post, the cover art's desert landscape hinted at a marked change in musical direction. This seems to have boded out, for while "Tell the World" and "Where Do You Run To" were lapidary Brooklyn/Spector/Velvets cool, scuzzy and compressed, the new track is more indicative of a West Coast spaciousness. Primitivism may still be the motto on paper, but the guitars and bass have taken on a symphonic flair that recalls the formative efforts of Brian Wilson. The effect is startlingly divisive; at moments, they sound like the best band in the world, while the desperate lyrics and indifferent drumming suggest all the end-of-the-road ennui of an overhyped punk group.

Judge for yourself here.

Full BEMF line-up announced

2009-07-14T13:29:00.000-07:00

After reports surfaced that such notables as the Juan MacLean and RJD2 would be playing the Brooklyn Electronic Music Festival last week, it seemed like the yearly shindig was coalescing into a major event. And while the latter artist has been dropped from the bill for unspecified reasons (either way, it doesn't augur well for future hip-hop/dance collusions...) the full bill adequately compensates for the loss by adding some of the borough's best emerging dancefloor mavens. Granted, Young Love -- who err more towards rock and are arguably best known for enlisting Terry Richardson to direct a video several years ago -- are something of a baffling choice, but Designer Drugs' patented neo-Mudd Club sound is sure to figure heavily in the post-electro haze. The indoor/outdoor event -- held at the Old American Can Factory in Gowanus -- will also feature such Studio B staples as DJ Ayres and Rosie Cottontail, and the commentators on BrooklynVegan are already speculating that LCD Soundsystem, The (long-defunct) Rapture, or even Daft Punk may be among the surprise guests. (Because of the MacLean presence, we're betting on the first... but who knows.) Tickets for the 12-hour event are priced at a reasonable $25, so it may be a worthwhile investment for the budget-conscious.

Crate Dig: Legends of Benin

2009-07-13T09:00:00.000-07:00

Bordering Nigeria and Burkina Faso, Benin exemplifies the plight of third world nations in the post-colonial era. With half of the population living under the international poverty line (a measly $1.25 a day), the fact that this nation has emerged as a musical hotbed over the past three decades is all the more amazing. After the Kerekou regime began to loosen its totalitarian stranglehold in the late 70s and early 80s, musicians influenced by trends in African-American and Jamaican music were finally accorded the chance to record. These primordial attempts are captured on the recent Legends of Benin compilation, currently a staff pick at Sound Fix Records in Williamsburg.

The richly textured nature of this compilation is quite evident in the programming, which opens with the ersatz reggae-meets-Calling Out of Context Arthur Russell of Gnnonas Pedro, weaves its way into a straightforward early 70s James Brown pastiche -- down to the grunts (El Regno Et Ses Commandos' "Feeling You Got") -- and culminates in the pan-African JB/highlife/juju fusion of Antoine Dougbe's output ("Kovito Gbe De Towe" is the standout here). It's quite remarkable stuff, and unlike other Afrobeat recordings that seem strained by commercial concessions, this is the pure stuff. With the influence of Afropop looming heavily over many of today's most popular groups and the original artists no longer subject to occidential pillaging, it wouldn't be surprising if this compilation elicited a mini-Buena Vista Social Club ripple and brought these artists back from obscurity.

First Pool Party A Smash

2009-07-13T08:06:00.000-07:00

After weeks of torrential rain and scaremongering on the part of overzealous scenesters, I fully expected the first Pool Party at Williamsburg's East River State Park (held yesterday) to be rather underwhelming. Instead, with a somewhat superfluous VIP area -- come on, guys, it's a free show -- and perhaps too many accouterments (outside of the main concert area, the music seemed rather peripheral... which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, as you will see) going on in the shadows of a seemingly abandoned condo development (see Eagle article from last week), the setting was somewhat surreal. Only a rusting fence lined with bikes prevented the confluence of big business and the unpaved lot adjoining the condo complex.

Overall, the event was something of a smash. Admittedly, Ponytail have never been my cup of tea. When seeing them open for Jens Lekman on two hours' sleep last fall at CMJ, I remarked to my improbable show buddy -- a recently laid off investment banker -- in an oh-so-obstreperous manner that there were several teen garage bands who could play much better. Ten months later, one must still get acclimated to Molly Siegel's onomatopoeic vocals and the breakneck pseudo-Pixies guitars, but constant touring has improved their sense of dynamics to the point where you could almost take them home to grandma. Furthermore, the lack of dissimilarity between songs was oddly appropriate at this event: there was enough primal energy for a mosh pit to get started in the main stage area, but those wishing to get overpriced burgers, play dodgeball (couldn't the hipsters have chosen golf or something less taxing as their international sport?) and Cafe Bustelo tote bags could appreciate the onslaught from afar on a purely musical level.

After hitting up the book vendors on Bedford Avenue -- for those not in the know, their selections are comparable to and often exceed the Strand... with none of the fuss and smugness -- I returned to hear Marty Markowitz's requisite speech being looped and electronically mangled by Mission of Burma sound engineer Bob Weston, presumably the latest demonstration of Marty's new avant-garde cred. While I didn't get to actually see their set, as the view was blocked by burger cooks, the veteran post punk group blended old 80s favorites ("Einstein's Day") and more unfamilar new material (with a clear dance influence) in a stunning demonstration of their relevancy. With contemporaries Sonic Youth just shy of geezer status at this point, seeing these fiftysomethings hold their own with much younger groups was quite validating. Here's a video.

All in all, a good time was had by all.

More information about It Came From Brooklyn

2009-07-11T16:46:00.000-07:00

As I reported quite tentatively last month, It Came From Brooklyn is a new monthly program at the Guggenheim that will showcase the best writers and musicians from what is already being heralded as "the Brooklyn renaissance". The first event, scheduled for August 15th, will pair veteran stalwarts The Walkmen with Bed-Stuy-based experimental duo High Places, best known for touring with the likes of Ponytail and Dan Deacon. Rounding out the bill is the BAM-funded, internationally-acclaimed Brooklyn Steppers Marching Band (in a nice acknowledgment that not all of the artistic fecundity in the borough is inextricably tied to the hipster scene) and writers Colson Whitehead (who will be reading some Walt Whitman in between the musical performances) & Leo Allen.

In response to earlier reports about Grizzly Bear having been tentatively scheduled for the event, Guggenheim special events director Bronwyn Keenan said that "Grizzly Bear were never confirmed for August or since. They were the one item on our wish list that had the misfortune of ending up on our website under our 50th activities for literally 24 hours. As it goes, it was picked up as a story and the rest is history." Keenan promises "a great line-up" for the September showcase, so stay tuned.

Marty Markowitz approves Issue Project grant

2009-07-11T00:12:00.000-07:00

Borough President Marty Markowitz's affinity for music is well known. Beginning in his State Senate days, Markowitz began sponsoring the free summer concert series that eventually mutated into Celebrate Brooklyn, bringing artists as disparate as Beth Orton, David Amram, MGMT, and King Sunny Ade to Prospect Park. While his trademark opening histrionics may elicit snarls from jaded transplants at these concerts as of late, there's something truly ineffable about what Markowitz does. Occassional blunders like the Atlantic Yards farrago notwithstanding, he's arguably done more than any other individual to -- if I may paraphrase another city's anti-gentrification slogan -- "keep Brooklyn weird" in spite of major obstacles.

As reported on this blog last month, Gowanus avant-garde performance space Issue Project Room faced an uphill battle in renovating their new home at the erstwhile Board of Education headquarters at 110 Livingston St. Despite successful benefits and strong word-of-mouth, the project seemed doomed to fall behind schedule until Markowitz -- as reported by the New York Times -- recently approved a $1.13 million grant to the institution, covering all but a few hundred thousand dollars estimated for the project to go forward. According to Brooklyn Vegan, the grant was allocated from a $37 million capital fund, monies from which are distributed at Markowitz's discretion. Here's a video of the ever ebullient beep talking about the venue a few months back. It may be a far cry from the days when borough presidents wielded tremendous political leverage as members of the Board of Estimate, but decisions like these demonstrate that he's far more than a glorified cheerleader.

With the cash-straddled Brooklyn Philharmonic relegated to backing indie bands these days, the Issue Project Room is one of the few venues of its kind in the city. Kudos to him for this generous gift, and let's make sure that these spaces thrive.

Full Siren Festival Preview

2009-07-09T14:31:00.001-07:00

While hardly the most influential or intriguing Brooklyn musical event of the year, the annually fledgling Siren Music Festival (scheduled for next Saturday) invariably draws legions of fans. To avoid the pedestrian and potential rail gridlock at Stillwell Avenue, here are the scheduled set times for each artist, along with my picks.

Main Stage (@ West 10th and Surf Avenue):

1:00 PM: Tiny Masters of Today
2:00 PM: Micachu & the Shapes
3:00 PM: Japandroids*
4:00 PM: Frightened Rabbit
5:00 PM: Grand Duchy (* -- with qualifications)
6:00 PM: The Raveonettes*
7:30 PM: Built to Spill

Stillwell Stage (at the subway complex):

1:30 PM: The Blue Van*
2:30 PM: Bear Hands*
3:30 PM: Thee Oh Sees*
4:30 PM: Future of the Left
5:30 PM: A Place to Bury Strangers
6:30 PM: Monotonix*
8:00 PM: Spank Rock*

Reverent indie elder statesmen Built to Spill are headlining the main stage, relegating The Raveonettes -- critical darlings of the mid-2000s, hanging on by a thread today -- to the secondary spot. Frankly, their piquantly postmodern take on Spector far outshines the deafening Wall of Sound of likeminded local gents A Place..., so be sure to catch their set. Japandroids are oversaturating the market fo sho, but their atavistic garage rock has captured my soul in a manner not seen since the breakthrough of the Vivian Girls nearly a year and a half ago. My advice -- acquiesce to their charmingly discomforting lack of charm. As Frank Black's songs were first inculcated into my impressionable brain nearly two decades ago, the sentimentalist in me will likely scope out his new Grand Duchy project -- even if his hoarsened voice and newly pliant countenance suggest middle-aged ennui. Monotonix and The Blue Van are both out to demystify the ineffable funk of 50s R&B, but The Blue Van wear their Small Faces pride on their sleeves -- I fully expect them to be the breakout act of the festival. And local heroes Bear Hands are among the more underrated acts of the Brooklyn renaissance.

My suggested itinerary:

The Blue Van
Bear Hands
Japandroids
Hit the beach
Grand Duchy (or continue swimming)
The Raveonettes
Spank Rock

Review: New Denver by Motel Motel

2009-07-07T13:21:00.000-07:00

Although they've yet to attain canonical word-of-mouth status, Brooklyn-based Motel Motel may be the best band you've never heard of. While the band prefers to categorize their putatively ramshackle sound as "folk-rock" and often liken themselves to Gram Parsons and Townes Van Zandt, this superficial categorization belies a world of influences that audibly range from The Pixies -- vocalist Eric Engel is Frank Black's misbegotten musical son -- to Tom Waits and the ethereal discord of Talk Talk's final releases.

Boldly schewing the traditionalist streak of most heartland groups, their most recent release -- 2008's New Denver, reissued this week on Rebel Group after a favorably-received tour that culminated in a homecoming performance at the Bowery Ballroom last week -- blends blocks of airy orchestration with rustic plaintiveness and a minimalist lyrical mindset that never strays far from Brooklyn in one of the defining artifacts of the contemporary scene. The epic "Tammy's Bodega" recasts "Where Is My Mind" in the superego's lambent glow, building from a quietly schizophrenic shuffle into an anthemic rocker over the course of seven minutes. "Mexico" is a frontier ballad of the soul that Townes (and possibly Parsons in his Nudie suit/Burrito Brother phase) would have doubtless appreciated, but Engel's pugnacious vocals owe more to the chamber-pop milieu of urban Brooklyn than any singular backwoods force. For iTunes/eMusic enthusiasts, the lightly-orchestrated "Virginia" reins in the group's more eccentric tendencies, delivering veiled optimism in the sanguine hue of the Flaming Lips. Whether you like them or loathe them, it seems that Motel Motel have already escaped the stylistic cul de sac that has ensnarled so many of their peers.

Weekly Show Calendar

2009-07-07T10:21:00.001-07:00

Have a venue that you want covered? Email us at musicnow@brooklyneagle.net.

Venue Addresses:

Studio B: 259 Banker Street (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Spike Hill: 184/186 Bedford Av. (L to Bedford)

Europa Night Club: 98 Meserole Av. (G to Nassau)

Coco 66: 66 Greenpoint Av. (G to Nassau)

Cameo Gallery: 93 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Bruar Falls (Cake Shop Brooklyn): 245 Grand St. (L to Bedford)

Death by Audio: 49 S. 2nd St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Glasslands: 289 Kent Av. (L to Bedford; J/M/Z to Marcy)

MHoW: 66 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Public Assembly: 70 N. 6th Street (L to Bedford)

Bell House: 149 7th St. (R to 9th Street; F/G to Smith/9th)

Issue Project Room: 232 3rd St. (R to Union)

Union Hall: 702 Union Street (R to Union)

Southpaw: 125 5th Av. (R to Union)

Union Pool: 484 Union Av. (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Market Hotel: 1142 Myrtle Av. (J/M/Z to Myrtle Av)

Monster Island Basement: 128 River St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Shea Stadium: 85A Debevoise Av. (L to Graham)

Trash Bar: 256 Grand St. (L to Bedford/J or M to Marcy)

Trash Bar:

07/09: King Fury, Fattooth, Super Potent Death Baby, The Mighty Pragmatics, Casual Acquaintance
8 PM
$6

07/11: The Shills, Ellis Ashbrook, Social Hero, Thick As Thieves, I Love Monsters, Ashes
8 PM
$6

07/13: The J.S.E., Sumo, The False Alarms, Tyler Rivenbark
8 PM
$6

Public Assembly:

07/08: Haircut, Hugo, Project, Galapagos Now, Stark & Nemo
8 PM
$6

07/09: Shadow Box, Cinema, Cinema, DeVries, Heliotropes, By Night of Spear, Gracefully
8 PM
$8

07/10: Female Singer-Songwriter Showcase: Ariel Lask, Melanie Edwards, The Great Republic of Rough and Ready
6:30 PM
TBD

Studio B:

07/11: Down and Derby Rollerdisco
10 PM
$5 advance/$5 skate rental

07/12: Tragedy, Morne, Blacklisted, Brainkiller, others
7 PM
$10

Music Hall of Williamsburg:

07/07: Richard Cheese, Natalie Gelman
8 PM
$35

07/08: Handsome Furs, Dri, The Cinnamon Band
8 PM
$15

07/09: mewithoutYou, The Deer Hunter, Kay Kay and his Weathered Underground
7:30 PM
$15

07/10: Future Rock, Orchard Lounge, Digital Frontier, DJ Tucci
8 PM
$14 adv/$16 door

Todd P. Presents:

07/11: Parts & Labor, Fiasco, Big Bear, Child Bite, Birdcage
Market Hotel
8 PM
$7-$20 sliding scale

07/12: Drunkdriver, Total Abuse
Market Hotel
2 AM
$7

Southpaw:

07/08: Tanya Morgan, Marco Polo, Torae
8 PM
$10 adv/$12 door

07/09: St. Cloud, Analogue Transit
8 PM
$10

(*) 07/10: Those Darlins, The So So Glos, We Are Country Mice
8 PM
$10

A Bill Graham-esque lineup brings an acclaimed Nashville alternative country-cum-indie pop trio (Those Darlins) together with one of Brooklyn's preeminent noise-punk groups (the So So Glos) and another local band (We Are Country Mice) indebted to both traditions but erring towards the former. Perhaps not as daring and outre as Graham's 1969 pairing of The Who and swing-era legend Woody Herman at the Fillmore West, but you get the idea.

Union Hall:

07/10: Jason Lytle, The Albertans
8 PM
$15

07/11: The Friggs, Jesse Bates and His Flying Guitars
8 PM
$8 advance/$10 door

07/15: Hawk & Dove, Mr. Gnome
7:30 PM
$8

Bell House:

07/09: MIA Riddle, Bon Savants, Patrick Bower and The World Without Music
7:30 PM
$5

07/10: The Brunettes, Great Lakes, Sharon Von Etten, Animal Hands
8 PM
$10

Brooklyn Electronic Music Festival returns with starrier line-up

2009-07-06T08:53:00.000-07:00

Last year, the Brooklyn Electronic Music Festival attracted a motley but devoted retinue to The Yard, near Carroll Gardens. While there are plenty of free concerts this summer, this year's iteration of the festival -- announced last week for August 8th -- may be worthy of those additional $25 laying around in your penny jar. Confirmed thus far for the fledgling festival, moved indoors this year to the Old American Can Factory (232 3rd Street), are instrumental hip-hop pioneer RJD2 and the live incarnation of the Juan MacLean, whose last album (The Future Will Come) earned favorable notices in Music Junkie earlier this spring. While I would reserve from buying tickets until more headliners are announced, this is shaping up to be an interesting event!

BrooklynBio: The Mystery of Grandmaster Flowers

2009-07-02T14:35:00.000-07:00

Working in an era where their sociocultural stratum was plagued by gang violence and urban decay, many of the New York-based pioneers of hip-hop and dance music operated under a veil of secrecy. The block parties that served as the birth pang of hip-hop and the dance incubators of SoHo were more than merely parties and clubs -- they were refuges from such virulent forces of homophobia and compulsory braggadocio, where even the toughest B-boy could lock and pop to the JB's "Monorail". As glorified saloonkeepers who hardly saw themselves as enduring historical figures, the founding fathers of these respective movements -- whose paths commingled and dovetailed more frequently than the prematurely revisionist record led earlier generations to believe -- were largely forgotten until recent years, when ethnographers like Tim Lawrence brought such seminal figures as David Mancuso and Nicky Siano from the microfiche collection at the New York Public Library to VH1. Even still, figures are bound to get lost in the shuffle, and despite valiant efforts by the few who remember him, Grandmaster Flowers will probably remain not much more than an enigmatically fading memory.

Here's what we know about the elusive DJ:

In 1969, Flowers -- who was reportedly based in central Brooklyn -- opened for James Brown at Yankees Stadium. That a regional performer opened for Brown is rather peculiar in the context of the times, and the fact that the trend-saavy Brown hired a DJ (instead of a band) suggests that the influence of the discotheque had already become pervasive by 1969 -- three years before Vince Aletti's seminal article on the trend in Rolling Stone.
During the warmer months, Flowers and a coterie of earlier mobile DJs (also including Pete DJ Jones, Maboya, and DJ Plummer) would play spontaneous and semi-illicit gatherings at Riis Park in the Rockaways, Prospect Heights' St. Mark's Park, assorted Brooklyn schoolyards (with the P.S. 92 yard figuring most prominently), and Prospect Park. According to Mike Barnes, a member of the deephousepage.com message boards who has done much to preserve the legacies of Flowers and other DJs whose careers defy the traditional bifurcation between disco and hip-hop, "Cats from Brooklyn would not fess when it came to traveling to other parts of New York to rock a spot or park throwdown."
According to Paradise the Architect from early 90s Afrocentric group X-Clan, "In Brooklyn, Flowers was to brothers in Brooklyn what Kool Herc was to brothers in the Bronx. Everybody loved and followed Flowers." After drug addiction forced Flowers into vagrancy and destitution in the early 90s, X-Clan took Flowers on the road with them as their sound engineer.
In addition to gigging at many Bronx proto-hiphop clubs, Flowers held down regular residencies at Panorama on Flatbush Avenue and the Blue Maze on Nostrand Avenue (popular discos that mainly catered to a straight African-American clientele) and worked at Downstairs Records (a specialist shop popular among early dance spinners).
As a primarily mobile DJ who played for a diverse range of audiences, Flowers was expected to be conversant in numerous styles -- and boast a sound system that could compete with the city's finest underground clubs. According to DJ Poppysoul, another DHP poster and veteran of the era, "Not only could Flowers and [Pete] Jones throw down on the turntable and rock a party, they had truly incredible sound systems and excelled at turning a plain space into something that resembled the Garage. Massive speaker stacks with subs you could walk into, horns you see in arenas, tweeters, speakers and more tweeters and speakers would be spread all around the ballroom, the park, etc., all connected with what seemed like Con-Ed feeder cable to four and five way active amp racks. There was no full range and a sub thing going on. Parties back in the day were really more like a cultural religious concert of sorts. Grandmaster Flowers was the first guy I ever heard scratch or cut if you prefer. It was back @ The Stardust Ballroom. The record he used was "Apache" [a staple of Nicky Siano's 1972-73 Gallery sets that later popularized by hip-hop "founding father" Kool Herc during his "Merry Go Round" mix of James Brown's "Give It Up Or Turn It Loose" and "The Mexican" by English prog-rock group Babe Ruth]. Talk about being amazed. The moment is forever etched in my mind. I used to say to myself I want to be like these guys when I grow up. My subsequent thought was where in the world will I get the cash to buy all that equipment (now called gear) they had?"
Tellingly, Kool Herc views the early mobile jocks like Flowers in a more circumspect fashion. "I used to hear the gripes from the audience on the dancefloor," he recalls. "Even myself, 'cause I used to be a breaker (breakdancer). Why didn't the guy let the record play out? Or why cut it off there? So with that, me gathering all this information around me, I say: 'I think I could do that'. Although hip-hop likely would not have coalesced into a genre without the contributions of the mobile DJs -- who brought funk and early disco records to some of the most economically depreciated areas of New York City -- Flowers' affinity for mixing and beatmatching records (like the gay club DJs) separated and eventually alienated him from the later generation of cutup-oriented jocks (who creatively looped the percussive breaks instead of playing whole records). Despite this, a tape from a St. Mark's Park performance in 1979 demonstrates that Flowers had integrated certain hip-hop flourishes -- MCing, limited scratching, and a greater propensity of break-oriented records (as opposed to the four-on-the-floor metier of disco that was then in vogue) -- into his sets. Barnes corrobrates this assessment and speaks of a "battle" between Grandmaster Flash (who omitted any reference of his namesake in his recent memoir) at the Stardust Ballroom in the late 70s where "Flash was doing alot of tricks (cutting, scratching, rocking the breaks of plates [records], etc.) while Grandmaster Flowers was mixing and blending plates ([but] rocking the breaks of plates too)."
According to Tony Smith, a peripheral DJ in the disco scene who asserts that it was possible that Flowers -- and not the canonical Francis Grasso -- was the first DJ to beat-match records, "He was the best, but he was most egotistical, too. He was a bastard. He just wasn’t nice to you. He wanted to be so exclusive. He wanted to be the best and I guess and he thought that’s the way he had to be to be the best."
On the Ilixor boards, PappaWheelie reports that "At a lecture about hip hop history at the Brooklyn public library the lecturer was interupted, while claiming hip hop to have originated out in the Bronx, by an angry man claiming hip hop to have started out in Brooklyn. After gaing the attention of the crowd the man, whose name escapes me now, proceded to produce photos and a flyer, both dated 1968, of Grandmaster Flowers rocking a party of thousands in Brooklyn and in the front row are what appeared to be bboys uprocking. Who knows, it might just turn out to be that Brooklyn keeps on makin it and its the Bronx that keeps on takin it."

What are we to conclude from these nebulous (and seemingly improbable) accounts?

Breakdancing began at Grandmaster Flowers' Brooklyn-based parties, which were already enjoying a considerable following by 1968. (What were they dancing to? Dyke and the Blazers? Southern soul?)
Grandmaster Flowers was so popular among inner city audiences that he opened a stadium show for James Brown in 1969 and -- his extreme arrogance notwithstanding -- inspired numerous DJs in the five boroughs.
Incensed by the disco tendencies of Flowers and his older brethren, a younger generation of jocks (led by breakdancer Kool Herc) began to isolate the percussive breaks in dance records. The birth pang of hip-hop.
Flowers solidified his connections with the predominantly gay downtown party network (namely Larry Levan and Francois Kevorkian) while still playing to the putatively "declasse" inner-city audience.
Hip-hop and dance music are so much more related than their exponents care to admit.

And that, as they say, is that.

The "Pool Parties" are safe!

2009-07-02T14:08:00.000-07:00

After weeks of scaremongering by alarmists, the JELLYNYC-organized Pool Parties (sponsored this year by the rarefied likes of Bud Light, Converse, and... oh yes, Cafe Bustelo) will indeed be commencing at East River State Park in Williamsburg on July 12th with a previously announced Mission of Burma/F***ed Up*/Ponytail concert. Since most of these shows have been logged on social networking tour itineraries and the like for the past two months, there were genuinely few surprises, but the Dan Deacon/Deerhunter/No Age bill will indeed be a round robin (a peculiar Baltimore-originated hipster phenomenon that involves each artist taking turns instead of playing continuous sets... seemingly ideal in the attention-addled nonlinear age, but not so perfect for an incongruous lineup that features a glorified LA punk band, some moody psychonauts from Georgia, and an artist whose shows are akin to 5 year old birthday parties). The addition of Girl Talk -- a rumored longshot, given his newfound resonance with everyone from latter-day Deadheads to Yale students and all in between -- was a pleasant surprise, as his recent hip-hop based sound will hopefully spice up a quality line-up that is, ahem, pretty milquetoasty for a town known as a bastion of diversity. Whatever your thoughts may be about this issue, the schedule is nevertheless attached here.

Seaside Summer Concerts at Asser Levy Park

2009-06-30T11:58:00.000-07:00

Well off the beaten path, the little-publicized Seaside Summer Concerts at Coney Island's Asser Levy Park (as always, sponsored by The Man) are a great way to catch quality oldies-but-goodies acts for free. Last year, I caught Brian Wilson and Liza Minnelli (don't laugh) at the park, which will soon (?) be home to a new ampitheater that -- in the pipe dreams of the city fathers, at least -- may rival Jones Beach and the Westbury Music Festival as a premier destination for long-in-the-tooth cash cows. (And likely render the free shows a dream of the past.)

Before the quality of the programming likely depreciates into the kind of stuff that is the norm at Westbury (two syllables: doo-wop), this year promises to bring an unexpectedly satisfying line-up. On July 16th, Creedence Clearwater Revisited (the cringeworthy rhythm section of Creedence Clearwater Revival) will be headlining, but opening act John Sebastian makes the series' "tribute to Woodstock" a worthwhile pick. Disco and soul is on the menu the following week (July 23rd), when Gladys Knight and The O'Jays play sets that will likely be heavy on standards like "For the Love of Money" and "Midnight Train to Georgia". The Four Seasons (with Frankie Valli) and Connie Francis will make July 31st a quintessentially Brooklyn evening, while Hall & Oates -- in a festival coup -- are bringing their signature blue-eyed soul to the series on August 6th. I'm personally anticipating the Blondie and Donna Summer performances on August 13th and August 27th (respectively, of course); although both artists can't resist the financial allure of the oldies circuit, their recent albums ably demonstrate that they haven't lost sight of innovation in their later years. All in all, a good time is sure to be had by many.

Jazz at Alta Voce

2009-06-30T11:32:00.000-07:00

For some reason entirely unbeknownst to me, Brooklyn's jazz scene hasn't exactly been all that vibrant in recent years. Of course, part of this is because the idiom appeals to steadily decreasing audiences; while its influence may be pervasive in numerous genres, jazz (especially traditionalist subgenres that employ a minimum of amplified instrumentation) is perceived by many as antediluvian as Gilgamesh these days. Which is a shame, for while the current indie rock scene hardly stands on the vanguard of pop music, its adherents number in the hundreds of thousands. Jazz, on the other hand, is consigned to the dinner crowd.

Stepping into this massive void, Park Slope's Alta Voce (on 5th Avenue between 2nd and 3rd Street) is committed to presenting younger and off-the-radar jazz talents, albeit in the dreaded restaurant/dinner context. Tomorrow evening, jazz wunderkind Christian Nourijanian will be playing with his quartet. Having played at such disparate venues as the Apollo Theater, Groove, and Pianos, Nourijanian should be very interesting. Performers in the coming weeks include the popular Kazuko Mausner Trio (July 8th), the Marianne Solivan Trio (July 15th), the Tierney Ryan Trio (July 22nd), and the duo of Ayako Shirasaki & Sanae Kojima (July 29th).

Brooklyn musicians support renewable energy

2009-06-29T10:51:00.000-07:00

Even in the midst of a recession, it's amazing how there's always a surfeit of free shows in New York City... and Brooklyn in particular. While there's usually plenty to do in the borough proper, next weekend's Citysol festival in Stuyvesant Cove Park (adjacent to the East River and Stuyvesant Town) features many talents in the namer of a very pertinent cause -- urban sustainability. All acts will be performing in a solar-powered tent, while you can enjoy discounted drinks if you bring your own cup. Among the Brooklyn talents trekking across the river for the musical portion of the program on July 12th are the So So Glos (whose patented punk will go down favorably in what are sure to be humid conditions), Fiasco, electro fiends Love Like Deloreans (in what will be their homecoming apperance after a long tour), Shilipa Ray and Her Happy Hookers, and agitprop hip-hop duo Dead Prez (who are actually from Tallahassee but play here often enough that they may as well be native sons). Check it out!

Preview: Church of the Haunted South by the Winter Sounds

2009-06-27T12:59:00.000-07:00

Artist sobriquets and album names are seldom reflective of actual product in the 21st Century. The Winter Sounds have decisively bucked this trend, for while you would expect a group of road warriors (they played 217 shows in 2007) from Athens to be fazed by cold weather, their ethereally plangent songs will leave those of us disinclined towards summer yearning for lost love, echoey guitars, or whatever the winter conjours up for you. Veterans of such estimable local venues as Trash, they have forged a sound that as wistful as it is ebullient -- a rare feat these days. While we wouldn't want to spoil the album for you (it's due on July 7th), lead single "Trophy Wife" applies Beach Boys harmonies and angular guitars to an eighties alt-rock beat -- the voice of the outsider set to music if there ever was such a thing. As indie becomes the next corporate behemoth, support a true alternative group.

Studio B is closing (as of right now)

2009-06-27T12:07:00.000-07:00

After nearly a year of equivocation and voiciferous community opposition, it appears that venerable Greenpoint nightspot Studio B is finally closing after July 12th; according to BrooklynVegan, a 2 Live Crew soiree planned for July 25th is currently looking for a new home. This would account for the venue's leviathan of a 4th of July bash, which some commentators are already describing as a final kiss-off to the venue's ornery neighbors. This is by no means the first time that the proprietors of Studio B have nearly pulled the plug -- shortly after a Lindstrom concert that was billed as the club's penultimate event in January, they began to resume full operations after a month of diminished programming. But the recent Sunset Rubdown farrago at the Northside Festival, where frontman Spencer Krug enjoyed a Mexican standoff with the sound crew that lasted for nearly a half hour, didn't endear the venue to its remaining indie constituents, while no self-respecting househead would pay a $20 cover -- the standard in recent weeks -- just to dance for 3 or 4 hours. (That figure is the norm at quasi-illicit, after-hours shindigs like Refuge and Danger in Bushwick, but such events usually extend well past 4 AM and feature less homogenous music.)

Although Studio B was a nightclub before its mid-2000s rebranding, there is only an infinitesimal chance of new ownership taking the space after the current owners installed an illegal roof garden last year (see my coverage in the Eagle archives), much to the consternation of nearby residents. That was on top of the overly boorish behavior of its patrons, who seemed confused about the layout of the neighborhood and quickly became pariahs of the local community board. The club, incidentially, straddles the border between the seemingly deserted remnants of the Williamsburg industrial zone and a working-class block of Cayler Street.

Even though Studio ultimately overstayed its shelf life, for a brief glimmering moment in 2007, it ably demonstrated that a legal dance club could thrive in Brooklyn and arguably make -- to quote Todd P. in a contemporaneous Gothamist profile -- "the most intelligent electronic curatorial choices in this country." While the closure of the club offers renewal for a scene all too readily condemned to verbal flagellations of rock snobs, the reopening of the Knitting Factory and the ascendancy of indie into the mainstream are harbingers of the future that is to come.

Weekly Show Calendar: 06/27-07/04

2009-06-26T09:25:00.000-07:00

Studio B: 259 Banker Street (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Spike Hill: 184/186 Bedford Av. (L to Bedford)

Europa Night Club: 98 Meserole Av. (G to Nassau)

Coco 66: 66 Greenpoint Av. (G to Nassau)

Cameo Gallery: 93 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Bruar Falls (Cake Shop Brooklyn): 245 Grand St. (L to Bedford)

Death by Audio: 49 S. 2nd St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Glasslands: 289 Kent Av. (L to Bedford; J/M/Z to Marcy)

MHoW: 66 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Public Assembly: 70 N. 6th Street (L to Bedford)

Bell House: 149 7th St. (R to 9th Street; F/G to Smith/9th)

Issue Project Room: 232 3rd St. (R to Union)

Union Hall: 702 Union Street (R to Union)

Southpaw: 125 5th Av. (R to Union)

Union Pool: 484 Union Av. (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Market Hotel: 1142 Myrtle Av. (J/M/Z to Myrtle Av)

Monster Island Basement: 128 River St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Shea Stadium: 85A Debevoise Av. (L to Graham)

Vanishing Point: TBD

Public Assembly:

07/01: Metal Night -- Shiro-ishii, Respawn the Ancient, Malebolgia, Sapremia
9 PM
$10

Studio B:

(*) 07/04: Mark Farina, DJ Dara, DJ Translucent, many others
8 PM
$20 advance/$25 door

Considering that the program is littered with many unknowns, the cover is a tad steep. But Studio B has reclaimed its former position as the borough's best dance venue after nearly shuttering last year over the past few months, and this should be another resounding success.

Music Hall of Williamsburg:

07/02: Jay Reatard, TV Smith 8 PM $15

Europa:

06/30: The Strickers, The Arkhams, Devil Sits Shotgun 7 PM $10

Todd P. Presents:

07/03: Cryptacize, Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, Katie Eastburn
Market Hotel
10 PM
$10

07/03: Captured Tracks Festival: Crystal Stilts, Blank Dogs, others
979 Broadway Backyard
4 PM
$15
07/04: Capture Tracks Festival: The Oh Sees, Vivian Girls, others
979 Broadway Backyard
1 PM
$15

Southpaw:

07/01: A Big Yes and a Happy No, the Happy Hookers, Wild Yaks, Infinity
7:30 PM
$10

(*) 07/02-03: Yak Ballz
16+
8 PM
$15

Inarguably the coolest graduate of my school's business program, veteran indie rapper Yak Ballz successfully straddles the line between sophomoric humor and thoughtful satire. Highly reccomended.

Union Hall:

06/27: The Most Serene Republic
8 PM
$10 advance/$12 door

06/30: An Evening with Maron and Garofolo
7:30 PM
$15

07/01: Ravens & Chimes, Soy Un Caballo, Rich Bennett
7:30 PM
$8

07/02: Maria Taylor, Morgan Nagler
7:30 PM
$10 advance/$12 door

Bell House:

06/27: Steve Wynn & the Miracle 3, Paramount Styles, Doug Gillard
7:30 PM
$12

(*) 06/28: No Guest List
7:30 PM
$5

Ever wonder how your favorite shows are booked? Join the city's leading booking agents for a roundtable discussion on event booking and show curating.

07/01: Apollo Run, the Hard Lessons
7:30 PM
$8

Loud, Fast, and Out of Control: The Coney Island Rockabilly Festival

2009-06-26T08:29:00.000-07:00

Although I'm a college student and probably blissfully unaware of some aspects of Brooklyn's musical past, from what I do understand, this was more of an R&B and doo-wop town than a rockabilly mecca back in the 50s. Nevertheless, since the Cramps released the Alex Chilton-produced Songs the Lord Taught Us in 1977, the genre -- not to mention an associated subculture of hot rod enthusiasts, Bettie Page-loving vamps, burlesque performers, and other connoisseurs of weird -- has enjoyed a steady international revival. (The pedant in me would like to remind people that aside from some unusual proclivities, the late Ms. Page was a Baptist in good standing with little to no interest in rock and roll -- indeed, her career preceeds the rock era -- while latter-day burlesque performers were usually backed by jazz musicians. That said, cultural syncretism and revisionist history can be quite interesting if rendered tastefully, and most of these 50s revivalists are very dedicated to their craft.)

If neo-burlesque, twangy vocals, and doghouse basses are your thing, the third annual Coney Island Rockabilly Festival is most certainly for you. Sponsored by local businesses like Gretsch Guitars and Coney Island Lager for a change, the festival -- centered around legendary Cha-Chas on the boardwalk -- will play host to over 20 bands over Labor Day weekend. Arguably the centerpiece of the festival, the Big Burlesque Blow Out on September 5th will feature such local talents as La Maia, statuesque newcomer Magdelena Fox, and Public Assembly regular Coco La Pearl. Among the local bands being showcased, Guitar Bomb's bluesy music recalls the earlier efforts of the White Stripes and the Von Bondies, albeit with extra twang (catch them at rockabilly haven Hank's Saloon on August 14th for a preview), Rockets Red Glare are straight-up psychobilly, and... uh... Brooklyn electro DJ duo Designer Drugs are ostensibly soundtracking the Miss Pin Up Coney Island contest on Labor Day proper; hopefully I'm completely wrong here. (There is a rockabilly group out of Boston using that moniker, but as far as I know, they haven't relocated to enemy turf.) By the way, I love Designer Drugs, but the idea of them playing a rockabilly festival is just a little incongruous. In any case, there will also be a performance by the world famous Coney Island Sideshow augmented by extra burlesque performers on September 4th.

While it would be nice to see some more local performers, kudos to Cockabilly Records and their partners for keeping Coney Island weird (to paraphrase Austin's anti-gentrification slogan) during this period of transition. That this festival is entering its third year is a testament to the fact that people from all over the world love the seaside neighborhood just the way it is, a message that will hopefully reach the suits at Thor Equities.

A Very Special Mypod: Michael Jackson

2009-06-26T07:46:00.000-07:00

Despite being a risible laughingstock in his final years (like an earlier King), it seems that death has finally put Michael Jackson into perspective as a tortured soul who didn't ask for the Faustian bargain that was his life. Admittedly, this is one of those tangential posts, but Jackson's music has had such a profound impact on the pop sphere over the past forty years that I would be remiss not to say something.

In any case, while the early hits of the Jackson 5 and the multi-platinum triptych of Off the Wall, Thriller, and Bad (we'll forgive Victory) are thoroughly ingrained into the collective American unconscious and likely will be for decades to come, the Jacksons' mid-70s funk/disco output stands as some of MJ's best work. Working in close conjunction with trenchant producer Norman Whitfield, a meglomaniacal talent on par with Wilson and Eno who previously brought the Temptations into the psychedelic era with "Cloud Nine" and "Papa Was A Rolling Stone", the Jacksons successfully transitioned from a pubescent bubblegum act into one of Motown's most credible dance groups. The "ABC"-esque "Dancing Machine" was the big radio hit from this period (be sure to download the LP version, which is vastly preferable to the sterile single edit), but b-boys at Bronx and Brooklyn block parties preferred to groove to the eight minute "Hum Along and Dance", a funky, dubbed-out excursion from 1974 that looks back to psychedelia (dig the Ray Manzarek-like organ) but points forward to the metronomic rhythms of electro. The seven-minute "Mama I Gotta Brand New Thing" is another Whitfield funk tour de force, pairing materialist lyrics and a prominent Jackson lead with acoustic guitars, blippy synthesizers, and dollops of reverb.

On the more disco side of things, both "Get It Together" and "Forever Came Today" (a cover of an earlier Supremes classic) were local underground club mainstays for years. The former cut was popularized by Brooklyn DJ Nicky Siano at his early Gallery parties in SoHo, while the latter particularly resonated with the legendary Larry Levan, who reportedly performed an hour-long mix of the song at the vanquished Paradise Garage on several occassions. (Levan was quite fond of playing his personal favorites over and over again, which may account for this legend.)

Rest in peace.

Celebrate Brooklyn roundup

2009-06-24T10:41:00.001-07:00

Since David Byrne's triumphant opener a couple of weeks back, we've neglected the always-dependable Celebrate Brooklyn concert series. Since being spearheaded by the oft-imitated but never rivaled Marty Markowitz in his formative years as a politico, the summer series has gone on to be one of the best of its kind in the United States, introducing avant-garde (Marc Ribot) and exotic sounds to Brooklynites for free, all in the confines of the spacious Prospect Park Bandshell. Although these cultural events usually grow torpid in the face of a recession, this season may well be the best yet.

Tomorrow night, Femi Kuti will be bringing his family's patented brand of Afrofunk to the Bandshell with Brooklyn-based Positive Force, led by "best bassist in the world" Melvin Gibbs. For the uninitiated, Afrofunk (or Afrobeat) is a subgenre of Nigerian music pioneered by Kuti's father (the late Fela Kuti) that combines the socially-charged lyrics and funk rhythms of late-period James Brown with highlife-influenced horn arrangements, making it not at all dissimilar to American funk, disco, or hip-hop and such postcolonial touchstones as Paul Simon's Graceland & the work of the Talking Heads. With Kuti tickets routinely in the $30 range, this is a great bargain, and you can count on Brooklyn Music being there.

Other interesting free shows (there are several paid benefits) include a They Might Be Giants concert for kids (the afternoon of July 11th), the Kronos Quartet (July 16th), the African Roots Music Festival (headlined by King Sunny Ade and featuring Brooklyn vocalist Abena Koomson; July 18th), Buckwheat Zydeco (July 24th), roots reggae elder statesman Burning Spear (July 30th), the Crystal Stilts (August 1st), and disco revivalists Escort (August 6th).

East River State Park concert series in danger of being cancelled?

2009-06-24T10:06:00.000-07:00

Although you're probably not aware of its existence, East River State Park -- which opened to little fanfare, even among the encroaching hipster set, a few years back -- is one of the more pristine recreational areas in the borough . (That other bloggers tend to refer to it by the nebulous moniker of "Williamsburg Waterfront" is a testament to its obscurity.) As of right now, the park is the new host of the McCarren Park Pool summer concert series, which brings a mixture of local and internationally recognized talent to Greenpoint for free most Sunday afternoons in July and August. Or is it?

While several acts (Grizzly Bear, Dan Deacon, Mission of Burma, the Dirty Projectors, No Age, Deerhunter, Simian Mobile Disco, and possibly And You Know Us By the Trail of Dead... among others!) have confirmed that they will be playing "Pool Party" shows (see earlier post about contaminants in the East River, O crazy ones), the venture's web site isn't exactly a paragon of information. This is on top of several rumors floating around the Brooklyn Vegan comment boards that the promoters are near financial insolvency.

In all likelihood, the matter boils down to simple economics -- higher guarantees and market oversaturation. Over the past year, Grizzly Bear have gone from the industry margins to the top 10, Dan Deacon has been showcased alongside Tom Waits on NPR's concert series, and the guys once-lowly noise punk outfit No Age have metamorphosed into leading critical darlings. All (with the possible exception of No Age) are fixtures on the local concert circuit, playing so frequently and cheaply that the notion of a free show loses much of its allure. As I have alluded to in recent posts, many of the artists who stood on the Bush-era vanguard are now reaping the success of the seeds that they sowed years ago -- and if that means pulling the plug on a free show that may not even draw that many people in the first place (especially in the case of Grizzly Bear, who play practically every other week), than so be it.

Of course, this development shouldn't dissuade the Pool Party people from taking advantage of what were surely hard-earned permits, and the cancellation of a No Age or Simian Mobile Disco could always expose insurgent younger bands like Coyote Eyes or Fiasco to an even greater audience. There is also the nature of the announced programming itself, which amounts (SMD and Deacon kind of notwithstanding) to being very white, very indie, very male, and very guitar-y. With the local hip-hop scene as fecund as ever and a comparable dance-oriented series in Queens eliciting complaints for its banal programming, more DJs or MCs wouldn't be a bad thing, either.

Review: The Phenomenal Hand Clap Band (Self-Titled)

2009-06-22T10:18:00.000-07:00

The Phenomenal Hand Clap Band is one of the most buzzed about outfits of the year, and for once, it seems the hyperbole may be justified. On their debut album (a first only in the sense that this particular aggregation of musicians has never recorded together; as an earlier post last week detailed, these are all veteran musicians), the Hand Clap Band exploits the alembic of the sound studio to blend late 70s italo, Sugarhill Gang-era hip-hop, Philly disco, neo-soul redolent of Sharon Jones, Hendrixian funk-rock, and God knows what else in to one of the more ingenuous sounds of the decade. Since indie's ascendancy began in earnest three or four years ago, we've had to contend with the usual stereotypes (TV on the Radio and the Carps notwithstanding) of willowy prep school musicians playing music for, well, other willowy prep schoolers. The Hand Clap Band is by far the funkiest group of whites assembled since the Average White Band -- and that's intended as a compliment. (The Remain in Light-era Talking Heads don't really count, obviously.) Just as Living Colour and a new generation of "Afropunk" bands have demonstrated that rock isn't always the province of whites, the PHCB can get down quite well.

A catchy opener, "The Journey to Sella De Estrada" effortlessly evokes the cheap disco-influenced soundtracks that Justice routinely plunders; after not overstaying its welcome, the final strains segue into "All of the Above", a sort of discofied take on the San Francisco sound of the late 60s. "You'll Disappear", currently immortalized in local nightlife legend as a 12-minute Moroder tribute, is halved and quartered here, but the unexpected opening salvo of that one-two opening punch more than compensates for what sounds like a failed experiment. Side two is a miasma of downtempo explorations; being more familiar with their pulsating disco oeuvre, this is still sinking in. But it sounds quite promising.

All in all, if you feel compelled to buy a new album this week, check this baby out. My divagations don't do it justice.

It Came from Brooklyn! (Or Washington D.C.)

2009-06-22T09:55:00.000-07:00

This has been floating around for a while, but worth a reminder on this very slow news day. Popular rock -- which is not to say noisy esoterica patronized by the most important visual artist of his era -- and highbrow art museums began to converge in 1968, when the psychedelic miscreants of Jefferson Airplane played a benefit for the Whitney Museum in the cultural space's hallowed halls. (How Paul Kantner -- one of San Francisco's greatest bastions of civic pride -- was corralled into playing such a show remains unknown.) In any case, the historical ossification of what an accompanying press relesse has termed "the Brooklyn renaissance" will continue on August 14th, when elder stalwarts the Walkmen and High Places will open the Gugg's "It Came from Brooklyn" series, which will then continue for the next five Fridays. The concerts will be accompanied by readings from notable Brooklyn writers, all of whom are TBA at this point. Price is also TBA, but seeing as Grizzly Bear -- the original scheduled headliners -- backed out (they're playing a freebie two weeks later at East River State Park), we can assume that the performances will be gratis with admission. While the whole "50s sci-fi kitsch" ardor of the title is just short of condescending ignorance (this ain't exactly the sticks), it's great to see local acts being featured in one of the nation's preeminent museums and further evidence that Brooklyn is the place for innovative contemporary pop.

St. Vincent adds last minute Brooklyn show

2009-06-22T09:28:00.000-07:00

St. Vincent (nee Annie Clark; not to be confused with the namesake of some three dozen towns in France, a small Caribbean nation, and the logarithm pioneer) has garnered quite a bit of justified acclaim since embarking on a solo career three years ago. (Cognoscenti know her from her previous efforts with the Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan Stevens earlier in the decade). As many contemporary indie popsters value pristine Wilsonian production and grandiloquent (cough... proggy... cough) song structures over the rock and roll heart that characterized forebears like Guided by Voices, Clark's songs are elliptical, jagged, prolix, and even discordant at times -- try to picture a punkier Joanna Newsom and you have the basic idea. (Her album covers, on the contrary, are wretchedly bland, but who's to judge?) An ideal fit with British doom/gloom indie 4AD (also home to elder statesman Scott Walker and the Cocteau Twins), her recent Actor is already destined to top end-of-the-year lists while exposing her songcraft to a new audience. On July 24th, Clark -- a resident of Brooklyn -- will be swinging through her hometown for her inaugural Letterman appearance, followed by a just-announced show at the Bell House on Thursday. With comparable acts now charging upwards of $25, the $10 advance/$15 door price is nothing to scoff at either. Check this one out!

Local bands give jam bands improbable tip of the hat

2009-06-20T14:58:00.000-07:00

Since punk and hip-hop dovetailed to make 1976 the year zero of contemporary pop, the Grateful Dead and the "jam band" subgenre they spawned have enjoyed a canonically tenuous presence among critics and musicians. (The public being the odd exception -- between 1987 and 200, the Dead and standard-bearers Phish reached their commercial zenith and regularly sold out arena and stadium shows.) Iconoclastic, insurgent, but never fashionable, these bands constitute the subversive apocrypha of vernacular music, a Mirror Universe where collective virtuosity trumps lyrical vision, syncretism is style, and the more hubristic aspects of the 60s remain as alive and well as ever.

But with many of the more inventive pop alchemists of the past five years or so quite fond of jamming out and juxtaposing dissimilar influences, something had to be at work. In an article discussing the indie-hippie collusion in Relix magazine (originally a Brooklyn-based publication in its original 70s incarnation as a Dead fanzine), members of such Brooklyn-based bands as MGMT and Animal Collective discuss their admiration for the je ne sais quoi of the jam, the Dead's oeuvre in particular. As Geologist of the latter group notes here, "people seemed to welcome you and the community didn't feel exclusive." Of course, with Sonic Youth having gone on record with their (highly circumspect) approval of the Dead years ago, not to mention Husker Du's cover of "Eight Miles High" and 14-minute finale on Zen Arcade, this is something along the lines of old news. But it doesn't hurt to remind people that all music, at the end of the day, is pretty similar.

The Dead, for the record, played at the 46th Street Rock Palace -- a decrepit 30s movie palace converted by avaricious promoters -- with Hot Tuna in Borough Park in late 1970.

Crate Dig: Make It Last Forever by Donna McGhee

2009-06-20T13:58:00.000-07:00

Another find in the bins at Academy. Long due a reappraisal, Donna McGhee is a Zelig-like presence who toured or recorded with the likes of Chaka Khan, Teddy Pendergrass, the Fatback Band, and numerous Patrick Adams ventures in the halcyon days of disco. Blessed with a urbane, azure tone that blended well harmonically and owed little to the gospel-derived histrionics that were in vogue among lead vocalists at the time, she was seldom accorded the opportunity to record in her own right. One of the few extant examples of her artistry (Adams's productions were quite meticulous by disco standards, and we can only wonder if discarded tracks or scratch vocals by McGhee for his seminal "Weekend" are lying around in a vault somewhere), Make It Last Forever (1978) is a periplum for a sound that never was, blending debonair orchestral funk and gritty guitars redolent of Stax Records with McGhee's louche vocals. As the progenitor of "sleaze disco", the downtempo title track was a significant underground hit, enjoying early-morning play in scores of pre-Giuliani all-night dance clubs throughout the boroughs for years to come. (Nevertheless, many purists will cede to disco-funk outfit Inner Life's relatively concurrent recording of the song with diva Jocelyn Brown; an unreleased remix of this version by Larry Levan, adding proto-electro flourishes, has been described as the venerated SoHo DJ's secret weapon.) No less significant is "I'm A Love Bug", a fairly crass sellout attempt in the tradition of Marvin Gaye's I Want You that nonetheless retains more charm than, say, "I Love the Nightlife". (Along with "Make It Last...", it was excavated for the popular Deep Disco Culture series a few years back.)

After a moderate hit with "You Should Have Told Me", remixed by freestyle wunderkind Jellybean Benitiz, McGhee promptly fell off the radar for several years. Her MySpace indicates that a new album is in the works, but in the meanwhile, delve into some of the deepest disco ever recorded... gauche cover typesetting not included.

Weekly Show Calendar: June 21st-June 27th

2009-06-19T09:36:00.000-07:00

Caveat: Not all of the venues below have published concert schedules, but there's a fair chance that live music will be booked, especially towards the end of the week. Most bar shows and Bell House 21+; Studio B 19+ (21 to drink); all others 18+/16+ or all ages. Starred shows represent my picks.

Have a venue that you want covered? Email us at musicnow@brooklyneagle.net.

A relatively quiet week as the doldrums of summer take hold. Nonetheless, quality trumps quantity this week with some of the most intriguing picks of the year. Enjoy!

Venue Addresses:

Studio B: 259 Banker Street (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Spike Hill: 184/186 Bedford Av. (L to Bedford)

Europa Night Club: 98 Meserole Av. (G to Nassau)

Coco 66: 66 Greenpoint Av. (G to Nassau)

Cameo Gallery: 93 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Bruar Falls (Cake Shop Brooklyn): 245 Grand St. (L to Bedford)

Death by Audio: 49 S. 2nd St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Glasslands: 289 Kent Av. (L to Bedford; J/M/Z to Marcy)

MHoW: 66 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Public Assembly: 70 N. 6th Street (L to Bedford)

Bell House: 149 7th St. (R to 9th Street; F/G to Smith/9th)

Issue Project Room: 232 3rd St. (R to Union)

Union Hall: 702 Union Street (R to Union)

Southpaw: 125 5th Av. (R to Union)

Union Pool: 484 Union Av. (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Market Hotel: 1142 Myrtle Av. (J/M/Z to Myrtle Av)

Monster Island Basement: 128 River St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Shea Stadium: 85A Debevoise Av. (L to Graham)

Vanishing Point: TBD

Studio B:

06/25: The Glass, Stretch Armstrong, Dominique, VDRK
18+
10 PM
Free with RSVP, $5 door

06/26: Yikes, Grum, Hostage, House of Ladosha
10 PM
$7 advance, $9 door

06/27: Trouble with Bass, Foamo, Starkey, others
10 PM
$5

Music Hall of Williamsburg:

(*) 06/22: New York Dolls, Black Joe Lewis, Madison Square Gardeners
9 PM
$35

Not quite the rapscallions who conquered the Mercer Arts Center in 1972 (Johnny Thunders and Arthur Kane are deceased), the ersatz Dolls -- led by crinkled David Johansen (fear not, Pointedexter loathers... he's once again emulating Jagger in the sartorial department) and second guitarist Syl Sylvain -- have garnered consistently gushing reviews in the press. Worth checking out.

(*) 06/24: Hank Williams III, Lucky Tubb
8 PM
$22/$25

Estranged from his redneck father, Hank III carries on his grandfather's shambolic tradition into the 21st Century with an equally syncretic sound influenced by hardcore punk and speed metal (indeed, all of his shows include two sets -- one from the country ensemble, and a sequence of songs in the noise/punk vein played under the moniker of Assjack). A pariah in the mainstream of country but beloved by his cult, don't miss this rare Brooklyn performance.

Todd P. Presents (Market Hotel, Shea Stadium, Monster Island Basement):

06/26: Kurt Vile & the Violators, Girls, Real Estate, Beach Fossils
Monster Island Basement
8:30 PM
$8

Southpaw:

06/22: Shemspeed Summer Show Featuring Six Point Star, The Constant (Steven Baggs) and Diwon, Describe & Y-Love 18+ 8 PM $10

06/23: Ever So Klever, Tristan Clopet, The Modern Airline 8 PM $8
06/24: Asa Ransom, Spanish Prisoners, Bonne Baxter
16+ 8 PM $8

06/25: Brooklyn What, Warm Hats, Shark's Roar/Box of Crayons 18+ 8:30 PM
$8

06/26: Appomattox, Gold and Gunmetal, Javelins, Me You Us Them
9:09 PM $10

Issue Project Room:

(*) 06/19: Phill Niblock
10 PM
$10 advance/$12 door

Evidently, the IPR is rapidly becoming the venue of choice for minimalist geezers, as this just-announced show attests. Though not as well known as Glass, Reich, List, Anderson, Chatham, or Russell, Phill Niblock was the eminince grise of the SoHo new music scene, his Experimental Intermedia Foundation loft offering a alternative venue to the more established Kitchen. Niblock's unhearlded drone compositions, often involving trombones, are quite stimulating and far better executed than those of La Monte Young, among other likeminded contemporaries. Perfect if you need to quench your thirst for extremely cerebral music tonight.

06/25: Mivos String Quartet, CNS Symphony Orchestra
8 PM
$12

06/26: Susie Ibarra Quartet
8 PM
$12

Union Hall:

06/25: Pattern Is Movement, Bell, Inlets
7:30 PM
$10 advance/$12 door

06/27: The Most Serene Republic
8 PM
$10 advance/$12 door

Bell House:

06/22: Via Audio, Ha Ha Tonka, The Dig
8 PM
$10

06/23: The Legends, The Drums, Soft City, Care Bears on Fire All Ages 7:30 PM $10

06/25: Tim Fite, Jesse Marchant
7:30 PM
$5

(*) 06/26: The Smithereens
7:30 PM
$25

The Smithereens are one of those lamentable bands who, despite years of Flaming Lips-esque perseverence, have never broken through. You may remember their Byrdsey "Blood and Roses", appropriated as the theme for Dangerously Close; Troma fans like myself will always hold their apperance in Class of Nuke 'Em High dear to our hearts. A bit pricey, but worth it for this influential group.

Brooklyn Hip-Hop Festival comes to DUMBO tomorrow

2009-06-19T08:40:00.000-07:00

While lacking the pizazz of last year's eclectic old-meets-new school lineup, tomorrow's 4th annual Brooklyn Hip-Hop Festival (held in Empire Futon State Park in DUMBO) is sure to delight hardcore adherents of the genre. Veteran Tallahassee-based political rap duo Dead Prez is headlining a connoisseur's program of nascent, female, and thoroughly underground acts including Tye Phoenix, Tanya Morgan and Children of the Night -- all as divorced as one could possibly get from Lil' Wayne and T-Pain in the midst of the autotune era. Tickets are available at the link above for a mere $10 -- a bang for your buck on par with Todd P. indie shows -- but be forewarned: having attended last year, I can vouch for tight security, long lines, and the annoying rumble of D, N, and Q trains traversing the Manhattan Bridge. But with a relatively esoteric program this year, the festival may be worth checking out.

The final Siren line-up is as follows...

2009-06-19T08:23:00.000-07:00

...and actually, it's quite holistic and may well be the finest roster the fledgling festival has assembled in the past two years or so. Still, the fact that the unprolific party animals in Spank Rock are headlining over Bear Hands is kind of baffling (this is actually moot, seeing as there are several stages). Although Siren's humidity, vague tendrils of sea breeze, and groping hands still pale in comparison to the eclectic programs in the more serene environs of Prospect Park that Celebrate Brooklyn has assembled in recent summers, kudos to Village Voice Media (a.k.a. the Phoenix-based publisher that fired Robert Christgau and Nat Hentoff, in essence reducing the paper to a bowdlerized finishing school for Columbia grad students) for thinking about their constituents for a change and sticking with Coney -- and locally-affiliated musicians -- during these precarious months.

The full bill (with my reccomendations; times TBA):

A PLACE TO BURY STRANGERS

TINY MASTERS OF TODAY (*)

BEAR HANDS (*)

JUSTINE D.

DEADHEAT DJS

For the laymen, Spank Rock and The Raveonettes may be "so 2007" for some, but their visceral stage shows will leave you spellbound (assuming ol' Jamal of the former group doesn't pull a Sly Stone, of course). Bear Hands are like Matt and Kim with a Beirut edge, while Tiny Masters of Today -- as written about yesterday -- may be very important in the future. All in all, a satisfying production... and don't forget your dancing shoes this year, with the Deadheat DJs and Brooklyn-based mixmaster Justine D. adding all the levity and then some that last year's chamber pop-laden proceedings could have used in spades.

Mypod: "Skeletons" by Tiny Masters of Today

2009-06-18T18:48:00.000-07:00

In what other era could a band of putatively hep 13 year olds set off a firestorm of accusations and recriminations in the blogosphere? Along with fellow tween-scenesters Care Bears on Fire, it's easy to lament Park Slope-based duo Tiny Masters of Today for the excessive and stagey misparenting they're doubtless subjected to on a daily basis -- while it's natural for a kid to want to strum a guitar and play the talent show, Leia Jospe photo shoots with Karen O and a major-label recording deal are something else altogether. Since it seems that the Tiny Masters' parents at least have the temerity to let their children lead relatively normal lives, their sophomore album was released to general ennui and indifference at the beginning of the month. That is, until Pitchfork staff writer and wizened music blogger Matthew Perpetua deigned to give the Brownstone Brooklyn upstarts' latest sacrifice a 3.0 (out of 10.0) on the site's overly quantitative rating scale, citing their "self-conscious kiddy variations on vaguely arty strains of punk and alt-rock" and the lack of "practical use for this music besides causing adults to go, 'awww, cute!'". And yes, in a statement that may well have been the most opprobrious thing I've read all year, he chided the twosome for their "predictably banal lyrics". (Literary rant of the day: uhm, Matt... as precocious as these kids may seem on the surface with two records behind their belt and all, they are still kids. Since you evidently value the praxis of poesis over chord progressions, taut production, and having a good time -- like most outmoded music critics -- please do the literary community a favor and write an 800 page onanistic treatise on mimetics in the work of Robeson Jeffers or something.) In any case, all publicity is good publicity, and you can see the Tiny Masters rocking out at Coney Island's Siren Festival next month. (More details, including the full schedule lineup, will follow tomorrow.)

Leadoff single "Skeletons", while somewhat too derivative of past tidings and callow in the way that any major-label production looking to cash in on the Brooklyn scene is going to be, may actually be more listenable than anything (save for that recent "Genius of Love"-ish YACHT single on DFA) gracing Pitchfork's Best New Music list right now. It may even be the first reification of the art rock backlash that's going to ensue in a couple of years, when teenagers of the Tiny Masters' vintage decide that the fetid retroversion of many of those groups is as happening as that quaint relic known as the iPhone. It is in this revisionist environment that their angular guitars and grime-influenced backdrops will inspire a new generation of malcontents. Invest in these Tiny Masters, and invest in the future.

Morbid crooner is "Crazy in Love"

2009-06-16T10:52:00.000-07:00

Local British transplant Antony Hegarty is one of the most acclaimed musical performers of the decade, and I can't say I know why. Although his performance of "Candy Says" at St. Ann's Warehouse was an unquestionably moving moment in Lou Reed's Berlin extravaganza and the filmic highlight of the concert movie that ensued -- not to mention his triumphant vocal on Hercules & Love Affair's "Blind" -- Antony's trilogy of somambulent chamber pop albums is enough to send anyone in a fog of depression... at the very least. Which leaves us very surprised that the effete crooner has included Beyonce's Chi-Lites sampling hit "Crazy in Love" in his live sets for some time now, and even more surprised that Pitchfork is reporting that he will release a recording the song as a single on Rough Trade this August. Although I expect a glacially-paced monstrosity along the lines of this year's overhyped The Crying Light, such a rendition may actually do the song justice. Stay tuned.

Crate Dig: Disco 3000 by the Sun Ra Arkestra

2009-06-16T09:50:00.000-07:00

With a plethora of record stores in Brooklyn, odd things invariably wash up. Each week, Crate Dig rescues a dusty slab of overlooked vinyl from the bins. This week, we look at avant-garde jazz impresario Sun Ra's Disco 3000, found at Academy Records in Williamsburg.

Like Captain Beefheart, Tom Waits, and even Frank Zappa, Sun Ra was and remains a figure whose veneration and critical cachet has always exceeded any conventional notions of popularity. By far the most outre performer to ever appear as a musical guest on Saturday Night Live, Ra (nee Herman Blount) and his Arkestra big band drew upon the cacophony and clangor of free jazz but never lost sight of swing's rhythmic foundations. All the while, the band foregrounded their use of electric -- Ra was an early devotee of the portable combo organs popularized by 60s garage bands -- and electronic instrumentation, relative exotica that only served to emphasize the Arkestra's penchant for Egyptological themes. Long before George Clinton and the P-Funk collective submerged their cliquant funk in Star Trek-influenced self-mythologizing, Ra -- who claimed that he was a messenger from Saturn and had experienced contact with extraterrestrials some 10 years before the Roswell incident, a story that even his closest associates found to be spurious -- and the Arkestra explored science fiction tropes as a metaphor for the plight of African Americans and, inferentially, gays. (Ra was nominally homosexual, but most evidence suggests that he was a functional asexual, perpetually shy and consumed by the rigors of touring & composing.) By the 1970s, however, Ra distanced himself from black power and black nationalism even as the Arkestra remained primarily black, claiming that all people were "puppets and pawns of some greater force"; interestingly, the Arkestra -- which received reviews from the hippie press that ranged from extremely desultory to mildly bemused -- enjoyed a modicum of popularity as SoHo's experimental loft jazz scene began to coalesce, culminating in the national exposure of the SNL performance.

Recorded live in Italy around 1977, Disco 3000 -- the title mocking the percieved futurism of late-period disco -- captures the mature Arkestra at its absolute zenith. Having integrated synthesizers, female dancers, and conservative use of drum machines into their arsenal, with Ra's personal set-up alone extending to three keyboards, the reductionist would merely classify them as a thinking man's agitprop P-Funk. But even as the stage show grew more elaborate, the music -- as minimalist as it was discordant on earlier releases like Atlantis, essentially presaging the no wave/new music fusions of Rhys Chatham and Glenn Branca -- is a cornucopia of sound here, evoking the metal-tinged avant-garde jazz-funk (how's that for critical largess?) of Miles Davis's mid-70s ensemble in its ingenuous exploitation of unusual timbres (rest assured, the drum machines do not sound like drum machines) and coruscating harshness. For jazzers well into middle age, this is intense music, setting a precedent for the continued activities of Chatham, Branca, Lydia Lunch, and Sonic Youth today. As with Davis's live albums of the epoch, the song titles are fairly arbitrary, although hints of standards like "We Travel the Spaceways" and "Geminology" can be discerned in the primordial ooze.

Shortly after this recording, the Arkestra would decamp to Chelsea, where their celebrated engagement at the Squat Theater would draw various members of the avant-rock cognoscenti (John Cale, Nico) as the effects of their innovations began to be felt in rock music. Sun Ra would continue to record and tour until his death in 1991; a reconstituted Arkestra has continued to tour in time-honored jazz tradition, spreading the gospel to a new generation of jazz aficionados .

"Phenomenal" guys and gals go to London, finally release album

2009-06-15T11:09:00.000-07:00

Ever since I saw the opening minutes of their second performance at CMJ last year -- I would have stayed longer, but a looming deadline and fatigue have their ways -- I've been tremendously excited about the debut album from local supergroup the Phenomenal Handclap Band. Contrary to their portentous moniker, which suggests revved-and-chopped-up British soul beats along the lines of the Pull Shapes, the large ensemble -- masterminded by DJ/production duo Daniel Collás and Sean Marquand, late of excavations involving Brazilian funk musicians and old Salsoul types -- takes cues from funk, deep soul, disco, italo, psych, krautrock, and a litany of other snobbish subgenres. Their eponymously-titled debut, due out next week, features guest apperances from TV on the Radio's Jameel Bunton, Lady Tigra, Jon Spencer, and Reno Bo of Mooney Suzuki. Already gaining plaudits from the mainstream (they may be the first indie band ever featured in Playboy, once a decent source for... umm... jazz criticism), they're taking their act to Britain in early July with two weeks of shows in London, Manchester, Bristol, Canterbury, and Dublin. Since the British tend to be more attuned to good music -- especially groove-based music played by sleazy disco enthusiasts in white jeans (see photo) -- this isn't necessarily a bad career move in the "Ivy indie" epoch. Expect an album review in the coming days.

Music-Related Film Screenings in Brooklyn Bridge Park; McCarren Park ballfields

2009-06-12T11:46:00.000-07:00

One of the benefits of living in an urban oasis is a surfeit of free summer film screenings. Cineastes can be reassured that the annual Brooklyn Bridge and McCarren Park series will be returning this July with plenty of -- you guessed it -- music-related films! On July 22nd, the folks at McCarren will be presenting 24 Hour Party People, Michael Winterbottom's hillarious romp about the rise and fall of preeminent British indie Factory Records (of Joy Division/New Order and Happy Mondays infamy). Steve Coogan stars as the late Tony Wilson, while Andy Serkis can be found in a pre-Lord of the Rings turn as brilliant producer Martin Hannett. One of the best music films of the decade, be sure to catch this movie for the first -- or five hundreth -- time; it's that good. Less exciting is the July 29th screening of David Lynch's Wild at Heart, but the highly underrated film -- which introduced Chris Isaak's singular neo-Orbison talent to the world -- is still worthy of your time.

The DUMBO screenings are slightly less exciting, but be sure to look out for "Rainbows Keep Falling Off My Head" in the August 13th screening of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, a film that never grows old.

Northside Guide: Friday

2009-06-12T10:37:00.000-07:00

Not much to report for tonight; unlike many of these festivals, Northside seems to be geared towards weekend warriors. Union Pool is hosting the Panache Booking showcase, including Todd P. stalwarts Golden Triangle (headlining at 11:20), Pterodactyl (at 8:40). and Big A Little A (8:50); for the catholic indie fan, this is perhaps the best bet of the evening. The FreeWilliamsburg showcase at Death By Audio is promising (These Are Powers, Javelin, and Air Waves), but claustrophobes bewhere. The BrooklynVegan showcase at MHoW is compensating for a relatively blah line-up with a surprise act at 9; this may be worth checking out, but I wouldn't hedge any bets on it. For other acts, consult the schedule below.

Weekly Music Calendar: June 14th-20th

2009-06-12T09:35:00.000-07:00

With the Northside Festival (schedule posted last week) extending until Sunday, this week's calendar will commence (except for one show) with concerts on June 15th.

Caveat: Not all of the venues below -- namely bars like Spike Hill -- have published concert schedules, but there's a fair chance that live music will be booked, especially towards the end of the week. Most bar shows and Bell House 21+; Studio B 19+ (21 to drink); all others 18+/16+ or all ages. Starred shows represent my picks.

Venue Addresses:

Studio B: 259 Banker Street (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Spike Hill: 184/186 Bedford Av. (L to Bedford)

Europa Night Club: 98 Meserole Av. (G to Nassau)

Coco 66: 66 Greenpoint Av. (G to Nassau)

Cameo Gallery: 93 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Bruar Falls (Cake Shop Brooklyn): 245 Grand St. (L to Bedford)

Death by Audio: 49 S. 2nd St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Glasslands: 289 Kent Av. (L to Bedford; J/M/Z to Marcy)

MHoW: 66 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Public Assembly: 70 N. 6th Street (L to Bedford)

Bell House: 149 7th St. (R to 9th Street; F/G to Smith/9th)

Issue Project Room: 232 3rd St. (R to Union)

Union Hall: 702 Union Street (R to Union)

Southpaw: 125 5th Av. (R to Union)

Union Pool: 484 Union Av. (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Market Hotel: 1142 Myrtle Av. (J/M/Z to Myrtle Av)

Monster Island Basement: 128 River St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Shea Stadium: 85A Debevoise Av. (L to Graham)

Vanishing Point: TBD

Studio B:
06/19: Yikes!, Thunderheist, Wallpaper, Terry Diabolik, DJ Never Forget
10 PM
$8 advance/$10 door
Open bar from 10:00-11:00

06/20: Jeff Samuel & Jona, others
10 PM
$10 advance/$20 door

Music Hall of Williamsburg:

(*) 06/18: Phoenix, Lightspeed Champions
10 PM
$25

After bubbling under for years, these French-Anglophone Daft Punk/Sofia Coppola pals finally came into their own this year with a starmaking performance on Saturday Night Live. Melodic, danceable pop-rock -- nothing more, nothing less.

06/19: Peaches, Drums of Death
8 PM
$25 (sold out, but tickets may be available at the door)

06/20: The Maccabees, others
9 PM
$15 advance/$17 others

Todd P. Presents (Market Hotel, Shea Stadium, Monster Island Basement):

06/16: Predator Vision, Sudden Oak, White Light, others
Monster Island Basement
8 PM
$5

06/18: Best Friends Forever, Hot Box, Babies
Monster Island Basement
8 PM
$7

(*) 06/19: El Jezel, Coyote Eyes, Thunder Power, The Rest
Monster Island Basement
8:30 PM
$8

Coyote Eyes are a slightly goth-y, slightly noisy outfit on the rise. Check them out in this nascent stage.

(*) 06/20: HEALTH, Jonathan Toubin
979 Broadway Backyard (J/M/Z)
6 PM-4 AM (HEALTH at 9:30
$10

Jonathan Toubin has belatedly introduced Americans to northern soul. Be prepared to dance the night away.

Southpaw:

06/19: The Spirit Family Reunion, Frontier Ruckus. Matt Sucich with The Vanderettes. Two White Horses 8 pm
$8

06/20: “All For One” – Official After Party for the 5th Annual Brooklyn Hip-Hop Festival: Legendary Buckshot (Black Moon, Duck Down), The Cypher (from Peter Rosenberg’s ‘Noisemakers’). DJ JS1, 8thw1 and more 9 PM $10 reduced with ticket stub

Issue Project Room:
06/15: Francesco Dillon & Emanuele Torquati
8 PM
$10

06/17: Ha-Yang Kim
8 PM
$15 for members

(*)06/19: Either/Or plays Morton Feldman’s “Why Patterns” + David Budin plays Karlheinz Stockhausen’s “Klavierstuck IX”
8 PM
$10

Before electronic pop, Morton Feldman and Karlheinz Stockhausen were among the first to employ synthesizers in recorded music. Come here these pieces as they were intended -- for the concert chamber.

Bell House:

(*) 06/14: Ida Maria, Prayer For Animals, Aaron Behrens
8 PM
18+
$12

"Ida Maria is a force of nature." -- Music Junkie

06/19: Locksley, Tres Bien, The Queen Killing Kings
7:30 PM
All ages
$12

Union Hall:

06/16: Bachelorette, Pikelet
7:30 PM
$10
06/20: The Loom, Cotton Jones
8 PM
$10

Northside Festival Day One: Strange Rumblings in the Press Lounge; Holding Steady

2009-06-12T08:17:00.000-07:00

Photo courtesy of the redoubtable L Magazine.

Sponsored by DUMBO-based L Magazine, the ongoing Northside Music and Art Festival is, depending upon your view, either a callow attempt to cash in on the burgeoning north Williamsburg music scene or a genuine celebration thereof. With many local bands enjoying a modicum of mainstream success and many people compelled to go out at least one to three times per week, there is an air of frivolity in applying the "festival" appellation to what is essentially just another weekend of concerts and dance parties. (And, while this is nominally an art showcase as well, that aspect seems to be sorely deemphasized... unless your definition of "fine artist" extends to obsequious concert photographers.) Aside from the media circus enveloping the de facto entertainment district of Public Assembly and the Music Hall of Williamsburg on North Sixth Street, it seemed to be just another evening in the neighborhood. A gaggle of much-loathed "trustafarian" indie chicks drank wine on a N. 7th fire escape as skater kids eyed each other with menacing glares, while Doo-Wop Guy (a portly neighborhood legend with a vaguely Mafiosi ardor) circled around the various thoroughfares in his sedan, blasting The Orioles and "Earth Angel" in defiance of quality of life laws. Thank God for genuine eccentrics like him; otherwise, the Bedford corridor would be virtually interchangeable with the decidedly un-New York environs of Haight Street or Sixth Street in Austin.

The first evening of the festival was by far the most important, with the Hold Steady wrapping up a four-night engagement at the aforementioned Music Hall and psychedelic freak-folkies Brightback Morning Light headlining Studio B.

Although Brightback are more my pace, I opted to cover the concurrent Hold Steady show, seeing as virtually none of my coverage has ever included these local (if not native) sons. Enjoying a certain panache and level of visibility as the most commercially successful Brooklyn ensemble until the recent TV on the Radio/Grizzly Bear/Animal Collective trifecta, the Hold Steady's relationship with the borough could be likened to Creedence Clearwater Revival's role in the San Francisco scene -- despite some facile similarities in fashion, influence, and lyricism, they are indebted to a different pantheon of heroes than most of the contemporary Brooklyn bands. For one thing, they employ roadies and equipment techs, old-school anachronisms in an era where the musicians themselves often set up at club shows. (Seriously, when was the last time you saw equipment techs set levels and test a flotilla of guitars and basses before a show?) Moreover, as you can see in the photo, drummer Bobby Drake's set-up includes a gong, that Chinese percussion instrument virtually metonymous with overblown excess in 70s rock; ironically, Drake is the punk of the band fashion-wise. Aside from the natural quirkiness added by criminally underutilized keyboardist Franz Nicolay (you may know him in his other incarnation as the garrulous, liquor-swilling pianist of cabaret-punk ensemble World Inferno Friendship Society, arguably a better forum for his talents), they almost belong in an Akron bar. (More on the almost later.)

Opening for the Steady were Hype of the States, a five-piece from Greenpoint whose refreshingly unpretentious pop-rock -- a cross-pollination of the pre-"Summer Feeling" Modern Lovers, Shibuya pop keyboards, and the feral stagecraft of Patti Smith -- gradually won over a crowd that, judging from its demographic diversity, was only assembled for the headliner. Lead singer Jezrael (yes, she's ready for the ubiquity of stardom) brought an insouciance to the proceedings that many female musicians have shunned as of late in the name of ponderousness. Rocking an outfit that would have seemed gauche on anyone else and probably elicited snarls from the trendoid contingent, she ably demonstrated that stagecraft needn't be sacrificed in the name of hipness -- or a good melody, for that matter. Guitarist Austin Raukus may well be the Ricky Wilson of his generation, an understated guitarist whose distinct style makes this band half as interesting as they are (the rock-solid rhythm section ain't so bad either). Keep an eye out for this bunch -- they're really good, and may presage a turn back to a more dance-oriented rock sound.

Since the Hold Steady really aren't my thing, recusing myself here would probably be the best option. Nevertheless, much as Roger Ebert once gave a three-star review to a film (some gross-out comedy, as I recall) that he loathed by virtue of the fact that it accomplished what the filmmakers set out to do, I fear I must do the same thing here. If you have a penchant for raucous Springsteen-style rock, overwrought Dylanesque lyrics, a frontman who goes through ten guitars per show and yet only plays in the "spare" (i.e. an occasional strum) style of Waylon and Johnny Cash, getting felt up by the American equivalent of boorish football hooligans (women only), and just obliviously bad taste... run, don't walk, to a Hold Steady show. That said, quite a few people out there appreciate their atavism and yeasty Middle Western/Rust Belt authenticity, and only the Dropkick Murphys -- another group you'll probably never read about in these pages -- rival them for the dubious honor as masters of the "fratster" subgenre. What I can tell you is that every song except for the opening "Stay Positive" and an ode to Stevie Nicks with interesting dynamics basically sounded the same, while Craig Finn's spasmodic Jaggerisms grew repetitious after about fifteen minutes. But the sheer energy of the crowd, unmatched at every event I've gone to as of late save for the tribal rites at those semi-illicit Refuge parties in Bushwick, was a testament to the emotive power of this band. It's difficult to muster much excitement about an electric organ, two guitars, a bass, and elaborate drum sets these days, but the Hold Steady somehow manage to do it.

More Northside reports to follow over the next few days.

Health play 979 Broadway Backyard and Pool Party; Grizzly Bear goes swimming, too

2009-06-10T17:35:00.000-07:00

Best known for their crossover dance hit "Crimewave" with Crystal Castles from last year, Angelino post/noise/dance/something-rockers Health are bringing their live extravaganza to East River State Park (N. 6th St.; L to Bedford) on July 26th as part of the relocated McCarren Park concert series. While we don't necessarily recommend taking a dip in the river a la Cosmo Kramer quite yet (a friend who occasionally works for the Metropolitan Waterfront Alliance and tends to be authoritative about such matters has informed me that the Hudson-sourced strait should be free of contaminants in about twenty years... alas, these people do it anyway), the ersatz "pool party" series is shaping up to be one of the better bargains of a depressing recessionary summer. As already announced, graying postpunks Mission of Burma are swinging on through on July 12th with annoying-but-lovable Baltimore noise outfit Ponytail, while fellow Smellers No Age will be tripping the afternoon fantastic with adult child Dan Deacon on August 3rd. And, if that wasn't already enough, newly anointed superstars Grizzly Bear will bring the series to an incongruously appropriate finale on August 30th. (Grizzly Bear in summer? Really?) If you're idea of a fun Sunday afternoon is not hitting the remnants of Coney Island, or if you just want to catch up on some of the more happening musical artists of 2009 and not pay a cent, be sure to hit the park for these appropriately underpublicized concerts.

The healthy ones are also playing a paid show/self-described "happening" promoted by New York Night Train (soul impresario Jonathan Toubin) on June 20th at the 979 Broadway Backyard/5 Stuyvesant Avenue with a hula hoop artist, light show artists, and a drum & trapeze act... should be interesting, eh?

Show Review: David Byrne @ Prospect Park, 06/08/09

2009-06-09T15:24:00.000-07:00

After keeping a low profile since the Talking Heads disbanded around 1989 (1992 if you charitably include the Heads-in-name-only "Sax and Violins" from Wim Wenders's Until the End of the World), David Byrne has emerged from his hermitage as one of the more resurgent musicians of the decade. The renaissance culminated with last year's Everything That Happens Will Happen Today, a collaboration with Brian Eno that found the alt-geezers tastefully mining the saccharine waters of adult contemporary -- not entirely surprising considering Eno's recent productions of Coldplay & Paul Simon and Byrne's soundtrack work -- while still managing to somehow sound medium cool. Although the album foundered on the charts, it provided a convenient excuse to mount a lucrative tour in the vein of the halcyon Stop Making Sense extravaganza. And so Byrne has returned to many of the same barns where he enjoyed the spoils of nascent success twenty five years ago with an odd sense of vindication. While he was never able to parlay "Burning Down the House" into Pretenders/UB40/Blondie megastardom -- not that he ever wanted to, mind you -- he's remained on the same plateau of visibility on his own hermetic, everything-including-the-Twyla Tharp dancers terms. Which is more than contemporaries like Lou Reed (now living vicariously through wife Laurie Anderson) or Deborah Harry & Chris Stein (relegated to the purgatory of the oldies circuit, more or less) could ever say.

Over the years, true believers in Byrne have had to endure the usual laundry list of complaints and remonstrations from the likes of former bandmate Tina Weymouth: he's indifferent to friendship; his callow opportunism during the Remain in Light sessions engendered more bad morale than good music in the long run; he's just not a nice guy, the archetypal Faust in the flesh. Alas, according to a Celebrate Brooklyn stagecrew member, Byrne went out of his way to make the stagehands feel like a part of the family yesterday, joking around during a lengthy soundcheck. "He's still got it," my friend texted me, and while I was obviously skeptical -- another friend prognosticated that the free show was destined to be "less than vintage" -- he hit it right on the nail.

When we arrived a little after 5:00, the serpentine line extended from the Lafayette memorial entrance on 9th Street and Prospect Park West to at least 11th Street; it would swiftly double over the next hour. The crowd was already shaping up to be an idiosyncratic, only-in-Brooklyn convocation of frayed hippies of all ages (obviously cognizant of the Garcia maxim that "music is music"), local yuppies, Afrocentric types, hipsters, normal people (including bros in Celtics jerseys), Jack and Hank from the Mighty Handful, a couple of college acquaintances, more hipsters, Vampire Weekend-venerating altbros, and the cop/fireman/garbageman who wound up standing next to us for the entire show. Diverse? Try microcosmic. But as someone pointed out, "all of them -- even the normal folks -- seemed to be a little off, a little weird, just like Byrne."

After an ebullient introduction from Marty Markowitz (who else?), Byrne and his eight-piece band -- soon to be accompanied by three contemporary dancers -- took the stage in their already-iconic white outfits to the tune of "Strange Overtones" from Everything that Happens. While the results were less than feral mania of Stop Making Sense, the new songs -- which, to Byrne's credit, comprised a substantial portion of the set -- sounded far more muscular than their flaccid album counterparts. On the surface, "I Zimbra" was no match for the Busta Jones
-driven renditions of the early 80s (yes, that is an euphemism), but upon further reflection the slower tempo brought out the hidden Afrofunk long subsumed by the Arthur Russell-style beat; "Heaven"'s breakneck arrangement was a moment of Dylanesque insouciance, the hymn transformed into something almost unrecognizable... and just as good. (The repetitious synth loop on "Once in a Lifetime" was not nearly as interesting in its 21st Century incarnation, however.) Schooled well in frantic contemporary styles, the much-buzzed-about dancers initially detracted from Byrne's laconic stage demeanor, but their presence was a subtle tip of the hat to his collaboration with Tharp and the collusions that permeated the downtown arts scene in the 1970s. Stagey -- though not as stagey as they could have been, judging by their strategic presence on only a handful of songs -- but essential, just as percussionist Steve Scale's presence on "Life During Wartime" and the encores established necessary continuity with the Expanded Heads ensemble that toured many of these songs thirty years ago.

By the time Byrne donned a tutu for the second encore of "Burning Down the House" (followed by the slightly anticlimactic finale of "Everything that Happens"... um, where was "This Must Be The Place"?), he was oozing in layers of sweat; naturally, the 10,000+ assembled in the park clamored for even more. As the crowd slowly dispersed into the Slope, an aging yuppie -- potbellied and hunched over, a far cry from his Patrick Bateman salad days circa 1985 -- inquired his family about "this new group called the Management -- who are they?"

Needless to say, one couldn't help but to smile. A good time was had by all, and kudos to Byrne and Celebrate Brooklyn for making it possible.

Show Review: The Diamond Center and North Highlands @ Market Hotel

2009-06-08T10:57:00.000-07:00

Bereft of many of the usual trendoids, carpetbaggers, and scenesters, it was a quiescent Sunday evening in the hothouse confines of Bushwick's Market Hotel. It had been some time since I last visited the venue which seems to be inextricably linked with my writing career -- my first review was of one of the first Market Hotel shows, back when tres-chic commissary Mr. Kiwi was in its infancy and the neighborhood guys would scowl at you under the El -- and the gradual transformation of the space from the austere remnants of a Dominican social club into one of the city's foremost venues for experimental rock has been something to behold. Aside from the climate control issues, exacerbated by last night's humid conditions, it doesn't get much better than this these days.

Appropriately for a Sunday show, few of last night's players, to employ the old addage, were quite ready for prime time, hearkening back to the venue's roots as a showcase for the less-than-blogworthy. A relatively new collective of musicians, local residents North Highlands opened the show nearly an hour and a half after the doors opened at 9:00 with a corruscating set of Van Morrison-meets-David Crosby-via-Grizzly Bear harmonies, block rocking drums, and Brenda Malvini's tremulously sultry vocals. While Malvini (who doubles on electric piano) seemed to take far too many vocal cues from freak folk stalwart Joanna Newsom for her own benefit at times, her incalculable yet highly mutable stage presence makes this band quite worthy of future attention, and it's more than a pleasure to welcome them at the beginning of a great career. Closing number "Fresca", which found the band members laying down their instruments to partake in some a capella vocal gymnastics, was just the tip of the iceberg. With likeminded groups such as the aforementioned Ursus Aarctos Horribilis and Animal Collective now breaking through the Billboard Top 20, it's only a matter of time before North Highlands supplant them as local faves.

On the contrary, Lubbock's own Diamond Center seemed to take the stage in an atonal necronarcotic haze, the last thing my friends and I were looking to groove to in the oppressive heat. (Sorry, guys!) Although I only stayed for about five minutes of their set, their jagged psychedelic noise/folk-rock places them in the freaky Texas tradition of antecedents like the 13th Floor Elevators and Shiva's Headband. With appearances on NPR and their new record My Only Companion garnering favorable reviews in the indie press, it would be remiss to immediately dismiss them. Expect a review of MoC later this week, and in the meanwhile, check out North Highlands as they emerge from the musical womb.

Spotlight: Coyote Eyes

2009-06-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

With unsigned indie bands as prevalent as corner bodegas these days, there's nothing remarkable on the surface about the lapidary, azure sounds of Coyote Eyes. But the Brooklyn-based trio sent me some mp3s in advance of their performance at the Northside Festival later this week, and while I must concede that I'm still digesting their songs, their album (available here) seems very promising. Check out their showcase at Spike Hill this Friday, and be on the lookout for this nascent band's headlining performance at Union Hall on August 29th!

The Orb flake out... again

2009-06-08T10:22:00.000-07:00

Although you wouldn't know it from the faux-dishabille of his army jacket, rotund potbelly, and old geezer-y countenance, Orb frontman Alex Patterson was one of the coolest guys of the 1990s. In case you don't remember, the Orb (best known for their Ricki Lee Jones/Steve Reich-sampling hit "Little Fluffy Clouds) stood at the forefront of ambient techno, perhaps the most buzzed-about genre of the decade that never really congealed into a cultural movement. Nevertheless, their hallucinogenic live shows were quite influential in exposing rockist snobs to the merits of electronic instrumentation -- LCD Soundsystem's James Murphy has cited a mid-nineties performance at Roseland as one of the more revelatory experiences of his life -- while Patterson enjoyed his 15th minutes of fame: the Orb promoted their single "Blue Room" on Top of the Pops in 1994 by playing chess with each other (a rebuke of sorts to the show prohibiting groups from singing or playing their own instruments), and The Orb's Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld is still remembered as a classic in critical circles.

However, myriad line-up changes, changing tastes, and numerous other factors have consigned the Orb to a dwindling fanbase in the 2000s. It probably doesn't help that they tour only sporadically in America -- for example, their last scheduled NYC performance in 2006 was canceled under mysterious circumstances. And it seems that their latest visit, scheduled for July 10th at the Music Hall of Williamsburg, has met the same fate. At least we'll always have the records...

Allen Toussaint brings N'Awlins to MetroTech

2009-06-08T10:00:00.000-07:00

You've probably never heard of him -- or you're only familiar with him in conjunction with his post-Katrina activism and ensuing collaboration with Elvis Costello -- but New Orleans R&B legend Allen Toussaint is one of the most influential figures in 20th Century popular music. An eminence grise of the highest order, it was Toussaint who discovered the Meters in the late 1960s, giving generations of hip-hop producers hours of pliable samples to work with; later on, his production of LaBelle transformed the trio from Laura Nyro's background singers into sultry disco divas. When The Band found themselves at an artistic crossroads in 1971, guitarist Robbie Robertson called in Toussaint to provide horn arrangements for the funky "Life is a Carnival", leading to an expanded collaboration that culminated in Toussaint writing horn charts for the group's live set, as captured on 1972's Rock of Ages. And if I don't sound sententious enough, his earlier work for the likes of Lee Dorsey -- including the original versions of "Working in the Coalmine" and "Yes We Can", later popularized by the Pointer Sisters -- kind of renders the rest gravy.

On June 11th, Toussaint -- who has spent quite a bit of time in New York since Katrina devastated his city -- will be opening the free 15th annual BAM Rhythm & Blues Festival at MetroTech. Since the free show is at noon, it's a great lunch option and something to do for those singing the recession blues. The concert series, which continues until August, will also include performances by the likes of the Spanish Harlem Orchestra and the Rebirth Brass Band. Check it out!

Crate Dig goes to Park Slope: Sounds of the Slope (1980s?)/Update on Record and Tape Center

2009-06-08T09:16:00.000-07:00

Alright, here's a real curio.

Until they closed a few years back (in 2006, as I recall), Park Slope's Sound Track Records was one of the borough's finest purveyors of those near-obsolescent plastic discs known as CDs. (I don't recall much vinyl, although all of the extant evidence suggests that they were one of the last holdouts before the resurgence of the late 00s.) Their selection of cassettes (even more obsolete, naturally) was probably unmatched in the entire tri-state area after Tower Records closed; indeed, my father -- whose distaste for the nabe's perceived air of hoi polloi and perambulating strollers was well known -- would occasionally drag me there after an afternoon at the Central Library, scouring the racks for a coveted copy of Television's Adventure. He rarely bought anything, but it was always fun.

Alas, old miserly enthusiasts like my dad were the kind of people who inadvertently took Sound Track out of business, leaving Record and Tape Center on the corner of 5th and 9th as this music junkie's main dealer when I was working at the Central Library in high school. Whereas Sound Track halfheartedly attempted to modernize, the owner -- a crotchety neighborhood legend by the name of Tony -- continued to preside over a dimly-lit melange of soul/funk/disco LPs, Laurel & Hardy DVDs, and loose $1 Prince CDs... someone's idea of a culture junkie's dream. Although going away to college and the mp3 revolution have precluded me from visiting Tony's cramped record shack, I try to make a point of visiting at least once a year. As the dearth of record stores in Bay Ridge and the Heights fully attest, when you lose a cumudgeonly holdout like Tony, the neighborhood loses a more than a slice of its vibrancy.

Thus, I was quite disheartened to read reports in the Brooklyn Paper (cough) and numerous blogs a couple of weeks back stating that Tony's venerable shop was scheduled to be evicted in late June, the end result of an overzealous landlord. Tony -- full name, Tony Mignon -- vowed to remain in his space, and the ornery guy succeeded... in a left-handed way. According to recent reports, the store is moving down the block to a new space -- leaving one of the city's best sources for used vinyl in business.

Which leaves us with Sounds of the Slope. Long before the neighborhood became a mecca for displaced Manhattanites, emigre trendoids, and baby clothing boutiques, Park Slope was just another working-class South Brooklyn neighborhood -- the kind that artists naturally gravitated to for its low rents and quiet atmosphere. Native sons (and daughter) the Shirts, one of the semi-forgotten bands that played alongside the Ramones and the Talking Heads at CBGBs, used to hang out with Greenpoint blues band Rice Miller on Ninth Street, as I wrote about in a Music Junkie column next year. With that in mind, I was hardly surprised to find this vintage record -- released by the enigmatic "Sound Track Records", and release no. number 19 (!) to boot -- while digging through my girlfriend's father's record collection this weekend. Along with the band Ninth Street, the mysterious anthology includes recordings by a number of folk, punk, and new wave groups.

So... any reminisces of the Seventies/Eighties Park Slope music scene? And how many more of these privately-pressed Sound Track anthologies are floating around out there? Feel free to comment.

Weekly Music Calendar: June 7th-June 13th

2009-06-05T12:13:00.000-07:00

With most local shows over the coming week consumed by the Northside Festival, the calendar will be organized slightly differently this week. Astericked shows represent my personal picks.

Venue Addresses:

Studio B: 259 Banker Street (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Spike Hill: 184/186 Bedford Av. (L to Bedford)

Europa Night Club: 98 Meserole Av. (G to Nassau)

Coco 66: 66 Greenpoint Av. (G to Nassau)

Cameo Gallery: 93 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Bruar Falls (Cake Shop Brooklyn): 245 Grand St. (L to Bedford)

Death by Audio: 49 S. 2nd St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Glasslands: 289 Kent Av. (L to Bedford; J/M/Z to Marcy)

MHoW: 66 N. 6th St. (L to Bedford)

Public Assembly: 70 N. 6th Street (L to Bedford)

Bell House: 149 7th St. (R to 9th Street; F/G to Smith/9th)

Issue Project Room: 232 3rd St. (R to Union)

Union Hall: 702 Union Street (R to Union)

Southpaw: 125 5th Av. (R to Union)

Union Pool: 484 Union Av. (L to Lorimer; G to Metropolitan)

Market Hotel: 1142 Myrtle Av. (J/M/Z to Myrtle Av)

Monster Island Basement: 128 River St. (J/M/Z to Marcy)

Shea Stadium: 85A Debevoise Av. (L to Graham)
Vanishing Point: TBD

Northside Festival (courtesy of northsidefestival.com):

Thursday, June 11th:
Northside Opening Party at Studio B

Brightblack Morning Light, Mariee Sioux, Zomes
Doors at 7pm

$15

(*) Uncensored Interview presents The Speakeasy: A Showcase of Transatlantic Alt-Folk
Ólöf Arnalds, François Virot, Lisa Li-Lund, Sharon Van Etten, Ivana XL
Union Pool

Doors at 7pm

$10

Gigantic Hands, Himalaya, Discovery, Me... curated by Himalaya
Spike Hill

Doors at 8pm

Henry Wolfe, The Albertans, The Pleasure Circus Band, Bonnie Baxter, and secret surprise guests
Coco 66

Doors at 8pm

The Hold Steady, Hype of the States
Music Hall of Williamsburg

Doors at 8pm

Individual tickets sold out; still open to festival badge holders

S.S.P.S. (Porkchop from Excepter), Men & Women, Julianna Barwick, Ducktails... curated by Men & Women
Cameo Gallery

Doors at 8pm

Price TBD

(*) Superglorious presents Class Actress, Miho Hatori, Autodrone, Exit Clov with DJ Captain Heartlock

GlassLands Gallery

Doors at 8pm

$15

Friday, June 12th:
Sunset Rubdown, Witchies, Elfin Saddle
Studio B

Doors at 6pm

$17

Music for Data Ports & Shotclock Management present AJ Roach, Pepi Ginsberg, Paul Brill, The Callen Sisters, Amber Rubarth
Coco 66

Doors at 6:30pm

$10

EAR FARM presents Shilpa Ray & Her Happy Hookers, Sister Suvi, The Secret Life of Sofia, pow wow!, Coyote Eyes

Spike Hill

Doors at 7pm

JezebelMusic.com presents The Press, Bottle Up and Go, The Art of Shooting, Neckbeard Telecaster, Patrick Bower & the World Without Magic
Cameo Gallery

Doors at 7pm

Price TBD

KEXP presents Wild Yaks, Electric Tickle Machine, CHARLIE!
Europa

Doors at 7pm
Price TBD

Mariee Sioux
Pete’s Candy Store

Doors at 7pm

FREE

Black Rock Coalition presents The Exelar, Investigative Reports, Swear on Your Life, Elevator Fight, ‘68
The Trash Bar

Doors at 7:30pm

FREEWilliamsburg presents These Are Powers, Javelin, Real Estate, Air Waves, Organs
Death by Audio

Doors at 7:30pm

$10

(*) Panache Booking presents Golden Triangle, Sightings, Pterodactyl, Aa, SCREENS
Union Pool

Doors at 7:30pm

$10

Pop Tarts Suck Toasted presents... front room: Brilliant Sweaters, Screaming Females, Sisters, Dinowalrus, Grooms (ex-Muggabears), The Great Unwashed... back room: Home Video, Eula, Palomar, Murder Mystery, The Rabbits
Public Assembly

Doors at 7:30pm

$10

Swallowed Up, Suburban Scum, Probable Cause, Turn It Up!, Straight Mangled
The Charleston

Doors at 7:30pm

BrooklynVegan presents John Vanderslice, The Tallest Man on Earth, Ólöf Arnalds
Music Hall of Williamsburg

Doors at 8pm

$15

Cantora Records presents Savoir Adore, Acrylics, Your Nature
GlassLands Gallery

Doors at 8pm

Kanine Records, Frenchkiss Records & Insound present The Beets, Drink Up Buttercup, Zaza, Sean Bones, We Are Country Mice with DJ sets by members of The Dodos and Dissenous + Hudson = The Andys (from Insound)

Bruar Falls

Doors at 8pm

Price TBD

Ghostly International’s 10-Year Anniversary Bash with Lusine, Michna, Deastro and DJ Mike Servito Studio B

Doors at 11pm

$15

Saturday, June 13th:

The Battering Room presents Bridges and Powerlines, pow wow!, Appomattox, The Pet Ghost Project, Family Lumber
Bar Matchless

Doors open at 1pm
Price TBD

(*) Boldaslove.us presents: Kiss the Sky, Honeychild Coleman, The Smyrk, Shelley Nicole’s Blakbushe, California King with a special book signing and reading by former NPR host Farai Chideya, author of rock novel Kiss the Sky

Venue TBD

Doors at 1pm

$10

Hooves on the Turf presents Vandaveer, Sharon Van Etten, Glass Ghost, Luke Winslow-King, Drink Up Buttercup, Gracious Calamity, Afuche
Trophy Bar

Doors at 1pm

FREE

(*) Ernest Jenning Record Co. presents The Albertans, La Strada, Charles Burst, Skeletonbreath
Union Pool

Doors at 2pm
Price TBD

Gothamist & Brooklyn Based present... front room: Aaron Behrens (of Ghostland Observatory), Motel Motel, Henry Wolfe; back room: Mia Riddle, Geoff Ereth, jacksonknife
Public Assembly

Doors at 2pm

Price TBD

Bishop Allen with special guests
Studio B

Doors open at 6pm

$17

Kemado Records presents O’Death with special guests
Music Hall of Williamsburg

Doors at 12:30pm

$12, $15 day of show

IMPOSE presents Dan Friel, Gary War, Silk Flowers, Pink Skull, Dinowalrus, Anamanaguchi, Talk Normal, Sisters, Golden Cities, dANA, Boogie Boarder, Say No to Architecture
Death by Audio

Doors at 7pm

$10

Jinners & Stark present Xylos, Jaymay, April Smith, Pursesnatchers, Tristen
Cameo Gallery

Doors at 7pm

$10

(*) Quo Vadis with Dark Faith
Europa
Doors at 7pm

$10

(*) Less Artists More Condos presents Blues Control, Kurt Vile & the Violators, Woods, Grooms (ex-Muggabears), Pygmy Shrews
The ShankDoors at 7pm

$10

Chouette & No Quarter Records present The War on Drugs, Endless Boogie, Virgin Forest, Doug Paisley

Union Pool

Doors at 8pm

$10

FiveAreSea (The New 5RC) presents Dragons of Zynth, tUnE-YaRdS, Chica Vas, Katie Eastburn, Bora Yoon
GlassLands Gallery

Doors at 8pm

$10

Music Snobbery presents Les Sans Culottes, Tiger! Tiger!, The Anabolics, Julia Haltigan & the Hooligans
Spike Hill

Doors at 8pm

$12

Sound Fix (110 Bedford Ave) presents
12:30am Teengirl Fantasy
11:30pm Death Vessel
10:45pm Twi the Humble Feather
10pm BELL
9:15pm Arrington De Dionyso
8:30pm Weekends
Doors at 8pm

$10, free after 12:30am

The Van Pelt, The Holy Childhood and Ghost Gamblers
Coco 66
Doors at 8pm

$10

(*) Asobi Seksu, The Big Pink
Music Hall of Williamsburg

Doors at 8:30pm

$14, $16 day of show

Ninja Tune presents Daedelus, Ghislain Poirier, Megasoid
Studio B

Doors at 11pm

$15

Primordial Punk presents Tamar-Kali, FunkFace, The Maine Attraction, DJ Ill Phil, Ruby Croak
Public Assembly

Doors at midnight

$12 (includes a free Primordial Punk pin-up calendar), $5 (if you bring a previously purchased Primordial Punk calendar)

Sunday, June 14th:

1928 Recordings presents The Sundelles, Air Waves, Browns
Bruar Falls

Doors at 2pm

The Dodos, Laura Gibson, Phil & the Osophers
Studio B

Doors at 2pm

(*) Ponytail, Thank You, special guests
Studio B

Doors open at 8pm

$12

(*) Search & Restore presents Steve Coleman’s Five Elements, Kneebody, Andrew D’Angelo’s Gay Disco Trio, Ken Thomson’s Slow/Fast
Public Assembly

Doors at 2pm

$16, $13 for students

BrooklynVegan presents Doomriders, Clouds, Zoroaster, Sourvein, Cough, Javelina, Howl, Wetnurse
Europa

Doors at 7pm

SUSU, Kings Crescent (feat. members of The Fiery Furnaces), Martin Bisi, Alina Simone, Kerry Kennedy
Spike Hill

Doors at 7pm

Engine Room Recordings presents Murder Mystery, Wakey! Wakey!, Bamboo Shoots, The Bloodsugars, Porter Block
Public Assembly back room

Doors open at 7:30pm

Bill Callahan, Sir Richard Bishop, His Freak Of Araby Ensemble
Music Hall of Williamsburg

Doors at 8pm

$15

New York Night Train Presents Coathangers, K-Holes, Ex-Humans, DJ Alix Brown

GlassLands Gallery

Doors at 9pm

(*) New York Night Train & Panache Booking Present DJ Mr. Jonathan Toubin with special guests
Union Pool

Doors at midnight

FREE

Hillstock (courtesy of neverbreakdown.com/hillstock):

Friday, June 5th:

05:30 PM
Chase Manhattan
(*) 06:00 PM
Radiates
06:30 PM
Bad Credit, No Credit
07:00 PM
Banzai
(*) 07:30 PM
The Mighty Handful
08:00 PM
Kittens Ablaze
08:30 PM
Spooktober
09:00 PM
No One and the Somebodies
09:30 PM
Michael Jordan
10:00 PM
Eskalators
(*) 10:30 PM
No Courage
(*) 11:00 PM
Screaming Females

Shea Stadium

Saturday, June 6th:

10:30 AM
DOORS
11:00 AM
The Honey Dos
12:00 PM
Grass Widow
01:00 PM
GunFight!
02:00 PM
Ism Jisms
03:00 PM
Many Mansions
04:00 PM
Submarine Spaceship
05:00 PM
You Can Be a Wesley
06:00 PM
Ava Luna
07:00 PM
Air Waves
08:00 PM
The Toothaches
09:00 PM
Stupid Party
(*) 10:00 PM
Max Levine Ensemble
(*) 11:00 PM
Bomb The Music Industry!

106 Emerson Place (G to Classon)

Sunday, June 7th:

12:00 PM
DOORS
01:00 PM
Good Night & Good Morning
01:30 PM
Twin Cats
02:00 PM
Drew and the Medicinal Pen
02:30 PM
Vultures
03:00 PM
Hanz Bronze
03:30 PM
Peace, Loving
04:00 PM
Cabinet of Natural Curiosities
04:30 PM
Elizabeth Butters
05:00 PM
Those Galloping Hordes
05:30 PM
A.w. Feldt
06:00 PM
Tiny Tornadoes
06:30 PM
ACLU Benefit
07:00 PM
Laura Stevenson & The Cans
07:30 PM
Emilyn Brodsky
08:00 PM
Phoebe Kreutz
08:30 PM
Don Lennon
09:00 PM
Archipelago

TBA

Bell House (courtesy thebellhouseny.com):

All shows $10, 21+

SUN 6/7 BALKAN BEAT BOX / DJ JORO BORO
SUN 6/7 THE 1ST ANNUAL BROOKLYN BEER EXPERIMENT
MON 6/8 MONDAY NIGHT VINYL CLUB
MON 6/8 AMATEUR PING PONG TOURNAMENT
TUE 6/9 SECRET SCIENCE CLUB

Issue Project Room (courtesy issueprojectroom.org):

06/08 @ 8:00pm - James Blackshaw + Koen Holtkamp, $15

06/09 @ 8:00pm - Søren Kjærgaard, Andrew Cyrille duo plus friends including Kato HIdeki, Zach Layton, Bruce Tovsky, $15

06/11 @ 8:00pm - Stephan Moore and John King present Music of the Merce Cunningham Dance Company, $15

06/12 @ 8:00pm - The Conference of the Guitars (works by James Tenney, Dan Joseph, Elliott Sharp, Marco Cappelli, Paula Matthusen and Lisa Coons), $15

06/13 @ 8:00pm - Bing and Ruth + Elodie Lauten, $15

Show Preview: David Byrne at Prospect Park

2009-06-05T11:05:00.000-07:00

Since divorcing longtime wife Adelle Lutz in 2004 and relinquishing day-to-day operations of his record label, Luaka Bop (one of the standard-bearers of "world music"), onetime Talking Head David Byrne has become a prolific and indefatigable presence in the contemporary music scene. In addition to scoring hit HBO drama Big Love, he's designed bike racks for the City of New York (Byrne is an avid cyclist), turned an entire building in lower Manhattan into an interactive musical installation, maintained one of the best blogs on the Internet, and guested on every other record coming out these days (including the BPA's "Toe Jam", which you probably remember as that slightly risque viral video sensation from last year). As if that wasn't enough, he mended his friendship with producer Brian Eno, who took the Heads to a creative apex on Remain in Light; the duo's recent album, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today, is a gospel-tinged effort quite uncharacteristic of either musician's oeuvre (though it is close in spirit to Eno's classic Another Green World).

In support of Everything... Byrne has been touring relentlessly with a stage show centered around compositions written with Eno, including a smattering from the new album, the duo's experimental 1981 release My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (an important progenitor of hip-hop & world music), and the Heads' classic tryptich of More Songs about Buildings and Food, Fear of Music, and the aforementioned Remain in Light. On Monday, Byrne will bring his show to Brooklyn as the opening concert of the annual Celebrate Brooklyn series at the Prospect Park Bandshell (F/G to Seventh Avenue; R to 9th Street). Although the suggested donation is $3 for a space on the lawn as always, seating will be reserved for ticketholders of a preceeding gala benefit. Naturally, these are rather steep at $325 and up -- although if you are lucky enough have some money to blow, the ticket includes a meet-and-greet and a postshow dance party (probably not including Byrne, who at age 57 is still one of the most intense performers in the business). Brooklyn Music will be there with photos and a postshow wrapup.

Weekly Album Review: Mos Def triumphs with The Ecstatic

2009-06-05T10:03:00.000-07:00

Changing trends over the past three to five years have precipitated major upheaval in the hip-hop universe. After nearly a decade of broken funk beats, crass samples, occasionally inscrutable lyrics, and weed & gun-infused swagger, the genre reconnected with its spectral dancefloor roots via startling collaborations (N.O.R.E's turn on Canadian electro outfit MSTRKRFT's "Bounce"), Dylanesque "don't pigeonhole me" recalcitrance -- witness Common's recent transformation from Afrocentric funk revivalist to carnal dance maven -- and the rise of a new generation of eclectic African American musicians who felt disenfranchised by the Nineties' criminal ardor (think Jahmal Tonge from dance-punk duo the Carps, who is clearly influenced by hip-hop but plays in an entirely different arena). When reports surfaced last year that the Spectorian Scott Storch, having belied his underground cred as the Roots' original keyboardist into a Faustian bargain that included producing pop tarts at $85,000 a track and pioneering the banal sound that Eminem and 50 Cent would take to the top of the charts on Dre's 2001, was nursing a cocaine addiction and defaulting on child support payments, the fat lady had sung the tune of hubris. Even the mainstream had, to varying degrees of success (Kanye West's 808s and Heartbreak and Lil' Wayne's Tha Carter III being the requisite Rolling Stone historical testaments), integrated the innovations of the groundswell that was roughly coterminous with the "electro-hop revival" and "blipsterdom". Considering that the original hipsters, as per Mailer's Advertisements for Myself, were affluent whites merely emulating the ineffable cool of black bebop players, the latter term does ring of a certain absurdity; thankfully, it seems not to have caught on in common parlance... yet.

Which leaves us with Mos Def, the unclassifiable everyman of alternative hip-hop. Blithely ignoring the trends of the late 90s and early 00s, the Brooklyn-born-and-based MC (real name: Dante Smith) carried the socially-conscious torch of A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul when it was as unfashionable as parachute pants; he was also one of the first to remind the genre of its roots and integrate musicians from a syncretic playing field, most notably Bad Brains' Dr. Know and vanquished psych-funk auteur Shuggie Otis (who plays a memorable blues solo on The New Danger, Def's 2004 foray into a reconstituted hip-hop). Interestingly, this album penetrated the Billboard Top 10 when commercial rap was at its absolute nadir in 2004, demonstrating that there is always a market for good music. Like Tom Waits, he has also pursued a moderately successful acting sideline, appearing in the successful remake of The Italian Job, Be Kind Rewind, and an episode of House.

Indeed, Def's latest -- the much-anticipated The Ecstatic, out on June 9th -- captures the rapper at his most Waitsian, pursuing a singular and idiosyncratic style that takes very few cues from electro... or any other purported flavor of the moment, for that matter. It's sui generis at its finest. The horn and marimba-laden "Twilite Speedball" is practically a homage to Waits's Rain Dogs-era New York sound, with bizarre, nocturnal lyrics that reveal a new side to the performer. Lead single "Life in Marvelous Times" and the appropriately titled "History" (the latter featuring Mos's brother-in-arms, Talib Kweli) revel in a neo-blaxpolitation fantasia of dramatic strings and incessant funk; its the closest he's come to impinging upon Wu-Tang turf, but the flow makes it all worthwhile. "Casa Bey" settles into a lambent Southern soul groove, and the opening "Supermagic" is all Hendrix guitars and rock & roll -- unlike most rappers, Def has always been particularly enamored of the guitar god.

But it is the album's more eccentric moments, such as the Arab pop-influenced "Wahid" -- which, save for its lyrics, would sound great on car stereos on Atlantic Avenue or Fifth in Bay Ridge -- and the Spanish "ballad" "No Hay Nada Mas" that make The Ecstatic truly worthwhile. For Mos Def, hip-hop doesn't seem to be a lifestyle -- it's just a set of tools, a springboard for his formidable talent. Which, if this album is any indication, may well land anywhere over the next decade.

For more information, check out http://www.myspace.com/mosdef.

Mos Def update, Dirty Projectors correction

2009-06-04T19:23:00.000-07:00

Brooklyn alt-rap legend Mos Def's new album has not been delayed until August, contrary to false media reports; indeed, a Grateful Benefactor was kind enough to hand me an advance CD about an hour ago. Expect my review of The Ecstatic -- one of the more anticipated hip-hop releases -- tomorrow morning. After hearing the deceptively Reichian (Steve, not Wilhelm) "Quiet Dog (Bite Hard)" some months ago, my hopes are high. Stay tuned.

Sadly, the Dirty Projectors promotion announced yesterday also began yesterday, unbeknownst to the blogosphere. While this is worthy of a remonstration or three, congrats if you miraculously obtained a Golden Ticket for their upcoming instore in a couple weeks. Scalpers? Bueller? Bueller? (Just kidding.)

Afro-Punk Returns For Fifth Year!

2009-06-04T19:04:00.000-07:00

The segregation of American popular music in the 20th and 21st Centuries is a topic worthy of a doctoral dissertation or five. Without delving too far into such a thorny topic, rest assured that BAM's Afro-Punk Festival -- celebrating the titans of this all-too-maligned global subculture -- will be returning to Fort Greene this summer with a plethora of acts, according to granddaddy music blog BrooklynVegan. From elder statesmen Living Colour to the young upstarts like Janelle Monae (alas, Bad Brains are conspicuously absent), see people of African and African Diaspora origin (who are not Jimi Hendrix or B.B. King) bend convention and express themselves in a manner often suppressed by the mainstream -- with guitars, torn shirts and polemical lyrics. The festival will also include concurrent screenings of films (including a Spike Lee retrospective and the documentary Afro-Punk) and a temporary skate park adjacent to the venerable Academy itself, culminating in a block party on June 12th (on Clinton Avenue; G to Myrtle-Willoughby).

Did I mention that the whole shebang is... shall we say it... FREE?

Confirned musical acts (courtesy of BrooklynVegan):

July 4th:

Pure Hell

Whole Wheat Bread

American Fangs

Game Rebellion

The Objex

Joya Bravo

July 5th:

Living Colour

Earl Grey

Hound

Tamar Kali

The London Souls

Apollo Heights

Sabatta

July 6th:

Saul Williams

Janelle Monae

The Dallas Austin Experience

Elevator Fight

Chewing Pic's Peekaboo Theory

Blackie

More info about what is surely the local free festival of the year at http://www.afropunk.com/.

MyPod: "You're In My Eyes" by Jarvis Cocker

2009-06-03T13:36:00.000-07:00

Don't want to spring for the cash (or, if you're more daring, harddrive space) that a new album will invariably eat up? In MyPod, we turn you on to the best new singles, free of charge.

Hard to believe that two of the cuts most frequently gracing my earbuds as of late were crafted by a heritage act (however obliquely... Iggy will never be the Eagles) and a more contemporary artist who has defiantly embraced that tradition (however eccentrically... JC has never really caught on in America, and heaven hopes he never will), but such must be the nature of my music taste.

The 2000s have been a quiscient decade for Jarvis Cocker. After triumphantly breaking through on the British charts with Pulp's Common People in 1995, Cocker descended into the harrowing morass of excess (detailed voyeuristically on the follow-up This Is Hardcore) before recovering on the Scott Walker-produced We Love Life. After the inevitable break-up of Pulp, Cocker married a French artist and settled in Paris -- his lack of fluency in the language notwithstanding for the Godard-bred erstwhile film major -- where they had a son and tried the whole family thing. As a direct consequence, Jarvis's solo debut, the imaginitively-titled Jarvis, was a rather torpid affair -- a New Morning for the 00s, if you will. Interviews captured a doleful Cocker sitting around his Paris apartment, quite lonely, dedicated to his son but quite adrift in a foreign culture.

Which leads us to this week's tabloid fodder of the Cockers' swift journey towards splitsville. This was no surprise to anyone who had heard the contemporaneously released Further Complications, an incredulously good effort that blends the naievity of Common People to This Is Hardcore's neo-soul sleaze. On the album's closeer, "You're In My Eyes (Disco Song)", Cocker wrestles with the sacred and the profane; it's Iggy Pop's "Fall in Love With Me" revisited, all over a syncopated dance shuffle. The old swagger has returned -- though I don't know about the new beard -- and to paraphrase Ralph Gleason, "We've got Jarvis back".