Roughly a week and a half ago, the Black Cat took it's annual moment to commemorate another year of bands, beats, and brawls. At 16, the club should be sneaking out, openly defying it's parents and learning how to procure both booze and porn. How better to sum up the energy of angsty teendom than by celebrating with DC hot rodding garage punk warlords, The Shirks, coupled with DC ex-pats to the astral plane, Dead Meadow. Such a small, yet HUGE bill.
The Shirks (aka, still, the best band in DC right now....) came out in true style by declaring that,"We're The Shirks from Washington, DC, and we're HUNG OVER!" before unleashing sonic annihilation onto the crowd. Though they opened with the same two songs they started the last video with, I did manage to catch one new track, which is definitely worth checking out.
If you were able to take the compressed fury of The Shirks and slowly coax it out into a long and intricate tapestry, you would have the embodiment of nouveaux psych pioneers, Dead Meadow. After taking their time setting up green mood lighting, wiggle light effects, a smoke machine, and (obviously long ago now) a bass drum head that hurt your eyes to simply look at, the band calmly strolled out, and the hypnosis began. Though it's all the way I remember it, The Shirks played for roughly fifteen minutes, while Dead Meadow swam through about an hour and half. It went from a show to a happening in the blink of an eye. Once they finally let the crowd touch ground again, we could not help but notice all of their instruments were still in place, and, yes, there would be an encore.
When all was said and done, I felt as though rock'n'roll had sucked the marrow from my bones. It was, without a doubt, one of the best shows I had been to in months, and definitely one of the best shows I'd seen at the Black Cat in about a year. So, here's to another year of shows, DJ's, and,"You can't make me do that; my dad's a _______!"
Last Friday I was asked to perform on University of Maryland's longstanding radio station WUMC. The specific show, (n)flux, is geared towards experimental and ambient sounds. DJ ARKive has been working hard to pull together quality programming including having live performances from the likes of Daniel Higgs, among others. You should give it a listen every Friday from 10:00-12:00PM.
Needless to say, I was quite surprised to share an honor bestowed upon MULTIPLE members of Lungfish. Without evening meaning to, I performed for nearly an hour and a half. I'd been deeply exhausted by work, so, bits of the piece were not my best. However, I am quite fond of the better stretches. If you are a trooper, in the most Iron Maiden sense of the word, you can listen to the entire event here, (obviously you need to skip down to the "N FLUX" show, and no, the Tom Petty at the beginning is not part of it....).
Per usual, I could not resist whipping out my Flipvid, and I've included a brief excerpt here (Yes, with all the fun of watching real, live, clinical knob turning...):
Sorry to say, this isn't a post about a staggering group of burn outs letting minor chords reverberate long enough to grow beards, as exciting as that would also be. No, the title is a song title from a band to be mentioned below. What this is really about is how, (besides that truth that music is doomed in DC), last weekend was one of those rare occasions where there were, quite literally, worthwhile bands playing every night. The ante has been upped for this being a video blog, but, none the less, every piece will be curated.
Thursday night was truly a miracle of dark gods' first degree. After four albums, ten years, and what seems like an eternity away from the east coast, SF based, seminal USBM band, Ludicra, randomly played at DC9. Though I'll have to say, for such a monumental event, even I had to find out while randomly skimming through a midwest metal blog. Fortunately, that did indeed happen, and I was right up front to hear the frost tainted onslaught. If you aren't aware of this band, check out their website here.
I was still reeling from the previous nights warfare, when I decided to try to catch Magrudergring and Assholeparade after work.
Being one of the original wave of powerviolence bands, not to mention being a group having anything to with heavy music coming from FloriDeicide, Assholeparade carry quite the mantle of brutality. I'd seen them several years ago when they were touring for their new album, so I knew I was in for a rager. One (of many) of the positive aspects of the DIY scene is that, in many circumstances, it prevents bands from hiding behind any pretense. You are going to have to know what you are doing when faced with a bare room, no stage, full office lighting, a half-working, sub-par PA, and no line of demarcation between you and the crowd. Quite simply, if you are not the real thing, you will tank like a flying-device, pre-Wright brothers. Fortunately, Assholeparade did not have this problem, as they tore through a twenty minute blitz krieg. Another positive thing about this type of show is that the kids aren't afraid to get active, and, as long as they aren't being assholes, I say the more the merrier. You don't even have to look very closely to see where that had an impact on the integrity of filming.
They were quickly followed up by hometown heroes Magrudergrind. This is a band I can't really say enough good things about. I've known them almost the entire time I've lived in DC, though they pre-date that. I've been down front and center more times than I could even try to count, and I can scarcely name a more energetic and sincere band. Plus, oh well, it should be said, they fucking rip. Every new release could strip the paint off of buildings. They do in fact have a new album out, and you can check it out on their myspace profile. (Plus, there is no way I could ever say anything bad about a band who's brought Unholy Grave to the US (TWICE!))
If those shows combined weren't enough to dig my grave, Saturday night's most certainly brought the shovel. It is always irritating when people discuss, X city's best kept secret band, who, look out world, is on the rise. But let me wear the hat of that asshole for just a moment. As much as it saddens me to think about, without trying to intentionally, DC's The Shirks (that mystery band I mentioned at the beginning) are certainly going to go somewhere, because, dammit, they just rock so hard. In the most arms folded, stare straight city in America, only The Shirks could induce a pit simply by playing rowdy garage punk. I'm sure it did not hurt that they've been out of commission for quite a while due to a sports injury (guitar karate, I believe). They have two 7's out, and everyone should, by all means, pick them up here.
Sunday was a day spent best brunching late in the afternoon, with a copy of the New Yorker. And, though being beaten by a gang of tiny soap-socked elves is a strong situation to recover from, I wish I could do it more often.......
So, you may have noticed a lack of activity here at the ole AS this summer. (But you probably didn't...) At any rate, I was given the fantastic opportunity to set up music programming for DC's Capital Fringe Festival, and, knowing me, I geekily documented as much as I could.
I was happily surprised at the number of people who were willing to reach out and take a chance to help craft some fantastic programming for the summer, and I really couldn't thank them enough for that.
I also want to add that there were many more performers than featured here, but I was only able to be there for the full bills at the end of the evenings. Among those were the likes of such great musicians as Pygmy Lush, Paul Michel, Alien Tears (Beck from Turboslut), John Bustine, and a whole horde more. Again, I owe all of them a deep gratitude.
Things kicked off with great DC psych band The Plums, followed by a Baltimore band of the same description, Lo Moda. The show was cruising along until the ABC barged in and claimed we did not understand our permit (riiiiiight......), thereby completely nixing what would have been another eloquently killer set from ex-Sentai, third-eye BLDGS.
At the next event I was fortunate enough to have some of DC's finest, Will Eastman, Micah Vellian, and Outputmessage using vinyl and stylei like flint and kindling to burn the house down. Here's a short bit of Outputmessage:
I was talking to Sean Peoples a few weeks ago, and he told me that he was trying to re-vamp Sockets Records and really do it right this time. I found that to be an ironic statement from the head of one of the most beloved labels in DC already, but I can't say I wouldn't get behind any ramping up.
So it went with a night that he,(or I should say, Sockets Records), curated.
Chris Grier is a guitar conjurer who is almost as interesting to listen to speak as it is to hear him at his craft. I do remember him saying that whatever time he was given, he most certainly would be able to fill. (And many other, much more quality statements, best left unquoted here...)
Another powerhouse from the new Sockets records, now with more *oomph*, is fractured dance pop band, Big Gold Belt. They are what would happen if those bland, generic, pseudo Brit-pop bands were membered by actually talented, interesting people. I really love this:
And finally, bringing the house down, was the group so impressive they were asked to come back to the Fringe by it's executive Director, the Cornel West Theory. Sean is really pushing these guys, and rightfully so. Beyond talent, they are full of boundless energy, sincerity, and integrity. Plus, one of the guys wears a pasamontana...
The next night saw more of the same type of solid curation, as All Our Noise orchestrated what was probably our most successful night.
To kick things off, John and Paul Thornley, of US Royalty fame, got together to perform in a much more intimate style than they usually do, and it seemed to be a great choice for the Fringe.
Continuing in a similar vein, Typefighter proved that you can take a full band to some very quiet places that come right out to audience and take there hand before blasting off into the sky with them.
Finally, Seas shifted all the way to the other end of the spectrum, with thick, rich layers of sound that swept everything away that was not tied down.
In an odd, and semi-tragic turn of events, a friend of one of my bosses was slated to do a four part-music/sound project, but in a twisted irony, suffered serious hearing damage in a speaker accident. Needless to say, he had to drop out at the last minute.
I knuckled down and was able to fill most of the slots, but left with one....I side-stepped a few ethics and booked myself. I didn't feel it was that terrible of a decision under the circumstances. I've been toying off and on with a solo noise project for some months now. I'm trying to make it a more serious endeavor now that I have the time. This was the first time I have ever performed live, and I was fairly happy with how it sounded. (I also got a kick out of the "ambiance" going on around me, in what John called the most "demoralizing space I have ever seen.") Fair warning, it was so long Vimeo made me separate it into two vids (yes, I do expect you to indulge me in watching both installments).
Hip hop has always been an important part of my life, and also, obviously of DC in general. So there was no way I was going to pass up this opportunity to have some quality MC's stop by the Fringe. I'll have to admit, I had not heard of Arda Mus before this. But Flex Mathews suggested him, and DI backed that decision. It was certainly a good choice on all sides. I'd also like to note that all of these guys were really great people, and very nice to work with.
I had initially asked Food For Animals to play, but when they couldn't do it, it was suggested that Hy's other group, Disturbed Individuals should play in their stead. After one listen, it was a done deal. Andrew had noted that they were getting around town a lot recently, so it was fortunate that I was able to snag them for this.
Finally, one night, many moons ago now, when Head Roc was playing at the Warehouse (RIP), he brought a kid up on stage, and though I don't remember exactly what he said, it was something to the effect of," This kid is a phenomenal MC, and you should all be on the look out for him." And it was right after that moment that I was first blown away byt Flex Mathews. I've off and on kept in touch with him in the years since, but I've always been a die hard supporter. It was a no brainer that he was the first person I contacted. He got his first notice as an epic battler, back in that period. After his name was made, he charged head-long into non stop writing, performing, and promoting. Between his high work ethic, talent, and ever-amiable personality, he's earned everything he's gained. We did take a moment to laugh at the fact that in the city paper he was voted best rapper of the year, thereby beating Wale...
Jeff Barsky is the definition of multi-talented, not only playing in The Plums, but also his own noise project, Insect Factory (and considering several other members of the plums joined him on this outing, the same could be said of them as well.) They were the perfect kick off to the highlight of the Fringe, Insect Factory, BLK w/BEAR, and NYC golden children, Religious Knives.
Jim Adams is another artist who had an instantly lasting effect on me. Seeing his fragile photography at an art show soon after I moved to DC, it was hearing his collaborative album with Rothko that really impressed me. I found "Wish for a World Without Hurt," to be an incredibly haunting album, even to this day. Performing, alone and with others, under the name BLK w/BEAR, every live show holds the promise of a new and interesting relationship between convention and the concept of sound. Beyond that, in his own subtle way, he is an attention holding performer in every set. My deepest apologies that this is not my best or longest video. BLK w/BEAR deserves better, but I was in the middle of pandemonium when I shot this.
Finally, in what was one of the proudest moments of the Fringe, Religious Knives took that stage. Just as amazing live as they are on record, I'm not sure there is much more to say except that if you missed them, well....you're an idiot.
Finally, sending off this summer chronicling, one of my personally favorite nights, well.....you may have guessed it, metal. The irony of being a fan of Orphan is hearing about them due to the lauding by Aquarius Records in San Francisco, not knowing that Speck, the drummer of the duo, is from DC. But regardless of how I got there, I cannot recommend this band enough. Their performance was enough to make people who's musical tastes are questionable say,"I'm not normally into that kind of thing, but that band was awesome." I had initially put local brutalizers, Ilsa, on the bill, but when they had to drop off, they suggested adding another ilk sharing band, Tetralogy of Fallot. New indeed, I'm sure you'll be hearing a lot from this impressive group.
It seems like everyone from Mick Barr to Mark McCoy has a black metal side project these days. I'd heard that the No Neck Blues band was involved in one as well, but didn't know much about them. When Orphan said they'd asked Malkuth to join them, I'd thought I'd give them a listen. Whatever your take on this type of black metal is, I'd have to say that they are one of the most savage and kvlt groups out there. Despite having to overcome a few obstacles, they played a crushing and memorable set.
Well, that it that my friends, and I certainly wish you all could have been there. And I also suppose this is turning into something of a video blog, which, as it's happening at my hands, I'd have to say I wholeheartedly support. Until next time...
So, the mighty Aghast are taking their usual constitutional around the west coast for the summer. I dropped John a line about content for AS (yes, he's actually the co-author of this blog), and I'll just drop the quote in here:
"Hey dude... forgot to include you in my group email that Im trying to keep a tour blog at mundanearcana. Feel free to cut and paste on to AS if you want."
Thanks.
At any rate, as John did go to world of higher education to learn the king's English properly, it is, as usual, a good read.
So far he's up to post number two, but I'll just put them up here one at a time:
Thursday, June 11, 2009
If you're reading this, you have the city of Long Beach to thank
I wasn't sure if I wanted to bother keeping a tour log on this trip. And I'm still not sure that I do. But there have already been a few moments, brought to you by (and I know I said this last year too) the seriously beat-down burnout of a town that is Long Beach. I commented to Forrest earlier today about the incredibly high number of obviously intoxicated and/or visibly mentally ill people wandering the streets. We had a chuckle about it, but...it's not really hyperbole. Forrest speculated that it was a shared quality among beach towns and likened it to Virginia Beach. Here are a couple of great micro-encounters we've had with the locals so far:
1. In order to facilitate easy unloading of our bags last night, Alan briefly double parked his van in the mouth of an alley by his place, blocking the sidewalk. It's around 1:30am. We were inside a few minutes later, and a woman accosts Alan in his doorway and asks, "Is that your van?" "Yeah." "Ok, I need to get your name." Nothing about the woman's appearance suggests she has an even distant relation to the law enforcement profession. "Why do you need my name?" "Oh, uh... never mind." She walks away.
2. Forrest and I were walking back to Alan's after lunch today, and a hard-livin' type dude asked Forrest who did his "tat work," which was visible on both of his sleeveless arms. Due to an underabundance of teeth in the guy's mouth, I thought he had asked Forrest who did his tax work, which I thought an odd but not unreasonable question. Everyone needs tax work done now and again. Forrest replied that the artist is a friend of his back in Virginia. We continued the last half block to Alan's, where we hung outside for a minute. The guy stopped to chat briefly. "I got a friend who does that. He rides a bike around. Name's Tattoo."
Back to the big picture. All three of us had delayed flights thanks to the positively biblical weather visited on the mid-Atlantic last night. (By biblical, I mean "diluvian," not "weather that never happened," but thank you for asking.) Forrest's flight took off less than an hour late, but landed five minutes after his connecting flight was supposed to leave Cleveland. Run, Forrest, Run he did and made it. My flight was two hours late. Shravan had to spend the night in Atlanta. Fail. But here we all are. Forrest and I drove into LA to pick up Shravan this afternoon because poor Alan needs to vacate his home/record store by tomorrow, so he's off hauling all his shit into storage. He's also been throwing out a bunch of stuff, and while we were helping him last night, he made Forrest carry a box of overrun Parasytic covers to the dumpster lol. Right now S and F are practicing the set list with me occasionally vacating the keyboard to tap out a fill on the desk. Tour's so easy.
