Prior to October of last year, we had never even heard the name Serge Gay Jr.  Since then, we’ve conducted/published an interview (March ’11) with the artist here on the site and I’ve personally purchased 2 of his works (an original piece and a giclee print).  The last year has shown itself to be quite successful for Gay, finding him earning a Grammy nomination -shared with director/frequent collaborator, Matt Stawski- for his work on Cee Lo Green‘s “Fuck You” video.  As the Bay Area gallery/publishing house, Spoke Art was launching themselves into the art world with their breakthrough Wes Anderson-themed art show, Bad Dads, Serge was catching our attention with his standout contributions to that exhibit.  Since then, Gay and Spoke Art have proven to be mutually beneficial to each others success, as the San Francisco-based painter has continued to submit impressive piece after impressive piece to such Spoke Art events as the multiple round (NYC, SF, LA) “Quentin vs. Coen – An art show tribute to the films of Tarantino and the Brothers,” the Pangaea Seed-curated shark exhibit/benefit “Sink Or Swim,” and  “Bad Dads II.”  This Saturday, the two of them will work together yet again; this time with Serge Gay Jr‘s work finally taking center stage in a solo exhibit of his own.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Not unlike the Haitian-born artist that paints them, Serge‘s work is multifaceted.  His strokes seem as carefree and fluid as flowing water, but the imagery is still incredibly bold an defined.  There are clearly political elements and the pieces can be fueled with plenty of social commentary, but, miraculously enough, they never feel heavy handed.  Some of the figures possess comic-like characteristics while, simultaneously, displaying a remarkable realism.  The subjects pronounce themselves, breaking outward from their framework and accentuating the depth that unfolds in the background.  Transparent ghostlike figures, objects, and text provide narration, breathing life and spirit into the work, providing interplay for the more solid and static figures and objects within it.  The compositions are undoubtedly engaging, but they still retain a high level of ambiguity in their interpretation.  There is nothing flat about the worlds created in Serge‘s paintings.  They possess a cinematic quality in relation to the way that they operate within time.  Sometimes it’s a CSI freeze frame  and the aftermath of a grimy hotel room.  Maybe it’s a slowly stirring clutter of figures.  Other times, it’s an airy surrealistic landscape that’s more cotton candy than concrete.  Their motion can be both stone and erosion… dust and wind.  The figures don’t always move at the same rate or even seem to appear on the same plain, toying with depth and compartmentalization like a diorama.

The subject matter is extremely personal, but maintains a universality.  This is most likely due to the many different defining aspects of Gay Jr‘s personality, as well as in spite of them.  He paints imagery relating to his birthplace in Haiti, as well as architecture and life that is clearly influenced by his current home in San Francisco.  Gender identity, racial identity, global destruction, personal morality… all of these things are addressed, but they don’t seem to create a conflict with Serge as an artist or seem out of place when grouped together in one singular presentation.  As a young artist, he has already managed to avoid the pitfalls that can be faced by the many who choose to limit and define themselves by any one of these particular subjects alone.  Serge is a black artist, who isn’t afraid to address some Afro-centric subject matter, but he’s more than that.  He’s more than a civil rights activist or a San Franciscan, a Haitian, a music enthusiast, a painter… any of those things.  He’s a human being, who’s aware of each of the components that make him a 3-dimensional personality and that’s why his imagery becomes so emotionally soluble.  Whether you’re a black artist, or an Asian artist, a gay artist, a female, an environmentalist,  or a political activist, it doesn’t matter, because if you continue to define yourself or your art by nothing else beyond that one singular aspect, while never broadening the interpretation of that experience, but expecting others to view you or your subject matter as something more than that, it’s unlikely that you or your art will ever present itself as anything more than the stale one-dimensional caricature that you’re trying to avoid.  Serge‘s solo exhibit -titled “Absolute Happiness“- is a great opportunity to finally catch a larger collection of the artists work in one place and to obtain a more well-rounded idea about his voice, what he’s capable of, and why he’s an artist worth watching as he develops throughout the future.

Here’s what Serge Gay Jr. told us, regarding the theme behind Absolute Happiness:

“The theme of the show is called “Absolute Happiness” because I wanted to showcase what the meaning of happiness is to me in all it’s different juxtapositions and trying to search for true happiness. Some people often define happiness as “living a good life” but to me it’s simply defined as an emotion as well as the little things in life when you can’t have it all. Not everyone is born with concept of “mental state of well-being”, but I’ve learned we can learn how to bring more meaning and satisfaction into our lives with what we have, to bring joy. For those, there are no absolute, and for some, it’s a never-ending quest. So I wanted to create a series that invites viewers through my eyes on this quest and most private journey ride to my very surreal, dream-like mind. Similar to a diary, my Art does tell a story of my everyday life of experiencing if it deals with tragic, love, lost, views, politics, travels, friendship, and happiness. As I create this surrealist expression movement that opens philosophical minds and understand my own social theories, I welcome viewers to see a world that I found out to be very unreal in all its complexities. In the end, you still have to go back to the root of it all and find what makes you happy.“

The opening reception for Absolute Happines” will take place at the Spoke Art gallery in SF from 6pm-11pm and will run until the end of the year.  Beyond the obvious reasons to attend the art opening in person, we’ve recently received the following information which pertains to an added benefit…

Opening Night Raffle

As an added bonus for attendees at this Saturday night’s opening, Serge Gay Jr. has generously decided to give away the above-featured painting, “Aperitif” during the night.

Spoke Art will be hosting a raffle for the original work, tickets will be $5 each, and 100% of the proceeds will be donated to the non-profit organization, Hand in Hand for Haiti. A small selection of signed and numbered prints will also be given away to raffle ticket donors.

More info on the organization here:
http://handinhandforhaiti.com/index.html

ADMISSION IS FREE!

Here’s the lowdown…

DETAILS:

What:

“Absolute Happiness”: Solo Show by Serge Gay Jr.

When:

Opening:
Saturday December 3th: 6pm – 10pm

*Show on view until December 31st*

Where:

SPOKE ART
816 Sutter St.
San Francisco, CA 94109

LINKS:

Serge Gay Jr: http://sergegayjrart.wordpress.com/
Spoke Art: http://spoke-art.com/
Facebook Event Page: http://www.facebook.com/events/272075719495243/

The following is a small selection of advanced images from the upcoming exhibit.

[CLICK IMAGES TO ENLARGE]

Brick by Falling Brick

36″ x 48″

One Third

16″ x 20″

Joe Blow

16″ x 20″

Over Flow

18″ x 36″

Gold Fishs

6″ x 8″ each

Color Me Black

20″ x 24″

When I was growing up in the 1980s, it was nearly impossible to think about sharks without thinking of the movie JAWS.  Although the original film was actually released in 1975 -the first 80s sequel wasn’t until JAWS 3D (1983)- it was such a groundbreaking cinematic accomplishment and it permeated our culture to such a degree that it was difficult to see imagery of a shark swimming without instantly hearing that infamous John Williams tune doom-thumping through your skull.  JAWS helped launch Spielberg‘s career and has even been credited as the father of the summer blockbuster.  The film transcended the horror movie genre in such a way that the idea of a killer monster shark not only felt like a plausible storyline, but it also felt as it were a real life inevitability.  Those of us who were not marine biologists -especially, those of us that were incredibly young- accepted the idea of JAWS as the quintessential interpretation for the cartilaginous fish and often internalized it as a reality.  What it taught us was that, completely unprovoked, a shark will eat your ass whole.  Even more, they just might jump up onto your boat or simply bite the goddamn thing in half.  In 1987, the Discovery Channel began airing their annual shark week series to help us regular folk gain a wider respect and understanding for these majestic animals of the deep, which had been striking unwarranted fear into the hearts of so many for so long.  It’s fair to say that, over these last 2.5 decades, leaps and bounds have been made in the way of remedying the PR disaster which began for shark kind in the mid-70s, but logic and fear can not always co-exist on the same plane and it can still be difficult to shake off the impact made with those original negative impressions (not unlike with the HYUNDAI EXCEL).  In reality, humans are a great deal more of a threat to sharks than they have ever been to us and many species of the animal have become increasingly endangered.  According  to NOAA Fisheries, “over 100 million sharks are killed each year” by humans, both accidentally, as well as intentionally.  Fortunately, organizations like PangeaSeed have been erected to help reverse this trend and, in association with San Francisco‘s SPOKE ART, they are presenting a new group art exhibit with the hopes of raising some money to help aid in that endeavor even further.

Based out of Tokyo, PangeaSeed is a non profit organization who’s mission is “to bring to light, and eventually an end, to the cruel practice of global shark finning.“  To raise money for the cause, the organization has produced and curated a new group exhibit called SINK OR SWIM, which will be opening tomorrow night in San Francisco.  Hosting the event will be the Spoke Art gallery; masterminds behind such highly successful exhibits as “BAD DADS” : A Tribute to the Films of Wes Anderson and “Quentin vs. Coen” – An art show tribute to the films of Tarantino and the Brothers.  As could be expected by any Spoke Art event, PangeaSeed has recruited an impressive list of talent to be a part of SINK OR SWIM, each of whom is contributing new original works or prints to the exhibit.

Here’s the full list of contributing artists:

Dave Kinsey, Josh Keyes, Jeff Soto, Jim Phillips, Rhys Cooper, Brad Klausen, Natsuki Wakita, Shark Toof, Akinori Oishi, Mike Stilkey, Rah Akaishi, Faunagraphic, Tim McDonagh, Clint Wilson, Mario Wagner, John Fellows, Spencer Keeton Cunningham, Matt Dye, Yoh Nagao, Wrecks/Nao Harada, Cupco, Paul Chatem, Skount, Koji Harmon, Jessica Ward, Michael Glinski-Gale Hart, Skinner, Claudio Ethos, Alison Sommers, Nathan Spoor, Dan May, Roland Tamayo, Ingri Haraldsen, Jen Lobo, John Malloy, Josh Hart, Kaitlin Beckett, Ben Wilson, Serge Gay Jr., Tapecat and Kevin Earl Taylor.

And here are the specific details about the event:

EVENT:

SINK OR SWIM – A Benefit for Sharks and Oceans

OPENING RECEPTION:

Friday September 23rd
6:00pm -10:00pm
(show will be on view until Sunday, September 25th.
Times: Fri 6PM – 10PM, Sat and Sun 12PM – 7PM)

LOCATION:

Spoke Art Gallery
816 Sutter Street
San Francisco, CA

For official Facebook event page CLICK HERE.

Below is a selection of sample works from the exhibit, selected for preview specifically to show the variety and quality that this exhibit has to offer.  All works are available for purchase with all proceeds going to the PangeaSeed non profit.  All sales are on a first come first serve basis, so attending the opening and/or visiting the exhibit this weekend is the best way to insure that you get your hands on any piece that you might have your eye on.

*Following the opening weekend, remaining original works and prints will be available through PangeaSeed, so please be sure to sign up for their mailing list for more info and updates.*

Make sure to visit Spoke-Art.com and PangeaSeed.com for updates.

To inquire about purchasing a particular piece, whether listed below or featured on the Spoke Art website, please use the following contact information:

EMAIL: SpokeArtGallery@gmail.com
PHONE: 415-796-3774

[click images to enlarge]

Alison Sommers

“Herd”

When we mention “two-time award nominated producer, Ian Brennan,” a good percentage of mainstream America would likely assume that we were referring to the creator of the FOX network’s musical sitcom, GLEE.  We aren’t.  Although his work may be less recognizable among the soccer mom and mall-frequenting tween sets,  the Bay Area producer/musician/writer/indie-promoter is, arguably, much more prolific than his prime-time Hollywood namesake.  [Please note that this is not a claim that Brennan is likely to make himself or one that he is even likely to concern himself with.]

Through various successful ventures, Ian has consistently proven himself a modern day Renaissance man, drawn to any project or cause that he finds substance in and feels that he has the ability to be beneficial towards.  Besides working on his own music, Brennan produced the debut release from Rain Machine (aka: Kyp Malone from TV on the Radio) in 2009, and has received Grammy nominations for his work on albums for both Rambling Jack Elliot [I Stand Alone -2006] and Peter Case [Let Us Now Praise Sleepy John - 2007].  He’s been a highly successful concert promoter- raising over $100,000 in charity funding from benefit shows- and booked the music for the free “Food Not Bombs” 20th anniversary show (feat. Fugazi and Sleater Kinney).  Over the last 17 plus years, he has worked as an expert on the subjects of violence prevention, anger management, and conflict resolution (both as a published author and lecturer) and, in 2008, created San Francisco‘s Sidewalk Homeless Memorial, raising awareness for the numerous casualties that annually befall individuals who are living on the streets.  Brennan has worked in public radio, written a music column, directed a weekly public-access TV show, and even created the original “Boxing Bush” online video game, after unsuccessfully extending a challenge to the former U.S. President to compete against him in an 8-round charity boxing match.  For his latest project/labor of love, the Bay Area-native has focused his sights overseas and unearthed the soulful music of a relatively unknown Rwandan trio known as The Good Ones.  At a time when bad musical theater renditions of 80s covers by Twenty-something actors posing as precocious teens are being credited with breaking Billboard Top 100 records held by the likes of The Beatles (who they cover!), James Brown, and Elvis, music this unpretentious, pure, and untainted by over the top marketing gimmicks is more essential than ever.

Brennan‘s journey in Rwanda began when he accompanied his wife (filmmaker, Marilena Delli) and the film crew for “Rwanda’ Mama” in documenting his mother-in-law’s first return to her birth country in 30 years.  After witnessing her family’s rape/murder during the first Rwandan genocide back in 1959, Marilena‘s mother was orphaned at the young impressionable age of only 7 years old.  In 1978 she married an Italian ex-priest and relocated to Italy, only to endure additional issues of poverty and racism in a completely new environment, with the added setback of an unfamiliar language.  The subject matter of the film is intense and, throughout the course of her return visit, she is even reunited with her best friend, whom she had previously believed was slaughtered in the 1994 massacres.  In addition to the focus placed on her mother’s return home, the film also addresses feelings of displacement for Marilena and her sister, who were persecuted as “blacks” in Northern Italy, and the disillusionment felt as they realized that they would find no more of a home in Rwanda, where they were viewed as “white” outsiders.

Ian spent his time in Rwanda on his own personal mission to discover hidden musical talent in a nation overshadowed by the trademark sounds of such neighboring countries as Burundi and The Democratic Republic of Congo.  This quest was further fueled by a need to disprove so called World Music “experts” and their close-minded claims that Rwanda had absolutely nothing of value to offer the music world.  The producer held a firm belief in his vision but, after two-weeks of intense searching, he was still coming up flat.  It was at this point, in July of 2009, that he was introduced to the inspiring musical harmonies of The Good Ones:

“They were standing in the dark, their eyes downcast and restless, and holding only one guitar between them. From 100-feet away, I knew instantly that there was something special about them, a feeling one is lucky to experience even once in a lifetime. By that point, I’d already visited literally every recording-studio in the capital (Kigali) and surrounding areas over two weeks and listened to hundreds of artists, but to no avail. This meeting had been set up through a mutual friend and the instant the band opened their mouths to sing, it was as if the universe reached down to tap me on the shoulder and say, ‘What these guys do is precious and rare. Don’t fuck it up.‘”

That first night’s meeting was with Adrien Kazigira (47 yrs old) and Stany Hitiman (also 47), only two-thirds of the group, and the one guitar that they wielded between them contained only two-thirds of it’s strings.  Even with this lesser format, Brennan knew that he had finally found the artists that he’d been searching for.  With the aid of a translator, he urged the duo to allow him to document their sound.  They agreed, but assured him that they were only a shell of themselves without their final member, Jeanvier Havugimana (38).  The following night they returned as a trio and an additional, although battered, acoustic guitar was located for Kazigira, while Stany played the 4-string.  Brennan constructed a makeshift recording set-up by utilizing a couple of condenser mic’s and elements from the documentary crews video cameras.  What resulted was the beautiful and intimate 11-track release, Kigali Y’ Izahabu, released by Dead Oceans last November.

Recorded outside on the porch of the very same property that they had met at the prior evening, Kigali Y’ Izahabu is as raw as it is moving (on the song, “Umahanano” wild dogs can actually be heard barking in the background).  The vocal harmonies are misleadingly complex, as they commingle and whirl like dervishes; filling the gaps in the guitar lines like breezes effortlessly swirling through forest canopies.  Over time, World Music has often become as diluted as any other genre of music, and The Good Ones remind us of the value that can be found within other cultures, no matter how foreign they may seem to our own.  Not even recorded in straight-forward Kinyarwandan (the official Rwandan language), but rather in a street dialect that not everyone in their home country even understands, Kigali Y’ Izahabu communicates through it’s emotions, deliver, and tone as much as through the words themselves.  I haven’t been as instantly affected and struck by the sounds of a “world music” album in this way, since I was introduced to the kora through Toumani Diabate‘s 1988 solo debut, Kaira.  More than just a testament to what outside cultures have to offer, The Goods Ones are a reminder of both the purpose and possibilities of music, itself.  With a group comprised of 3 middle-aged war veterans/genocide survivors who subsist on next to nothing in one of the poorest countries in the world, these men do not play music for any other reason than because their souls have instructed them too.  Considering their circumstances, the idea of getting a record deal wasn’t even on their radar, let alone a priority.  With all of the press releases we receive from groups with slick marketing campaigns, high-budget videos, and appropriated imagery, the honesty behind these 3 Rwandan men is both welcomed and refreshing.  And, with all of the newfangled titles being invented to fabricate the illusion that some entirely unique new genre like “Post-Wave-Core” has been invented, I don’t know how else to refer to what The Good Ones present than to simply call it “MUSIC”.

We have been fortunate enough to communicate with Ian Brennan, himself, and have the producer discuss with us a bit more about his  process, perceptions, and over all experiences in working on this amazing project.  That dialogue of that conversation is posted below.  We hope you enjoy it.

MONSTER FRESH: I know that when you headed to Rwanda it was partly for the filming of Rwanda Mama, documenting you mother-in-law’s return to her birth country.  How long had you been intending to search out Rwandan music prior to that?  Was it something that you had been hoping to do for a long time or more of an idea that you began fostering once you knew that you would already be heading to the country with your wife?

IAN BRENNAN: The music search was an idea that formulated once the trip was scheduled and developed further while we were there and became more acquainted with the country.

From what I’ve read about the documentary, it seems to address strong elements of racism and prejudice, but I was surprised to hear that there is so much prejudice against the MUSIC of Rwanda, as well.  Did you find your own quest of redemption aligning with the progression of the documentary at all?

The documentary and the record are definitely related.  The record would not have happened without the documentary.

I’ve noticed that a film still from the Rwanda Mama site is also being used as the cover art for The Good Ones’ album and am wondering if that is the extent of the integration between the two finished projects.

They are separate entities.  Hopefully, they both help bring positive attention to Rwanda, a diverse country of almost 10 million people.  Rwanda’ Mama, ironically, features much great Rwandan music (a lot of it rarities from the 1970′s), but not The Good Ones.

The photos were done by Marilena and her sister and the video footage by Marilena, so thanks to them we have strong visual components for the project.

You’ve stated that there are political issues discouraging street musicianship in Rwanda and that it was something which made seeking out the local music more difficult for you.  You’ve also referred to The Good Ones music as part of a tradition known as “Street Songs”.  Was there once a strong street music element to the culture and, if so, approximately when did that end?

In our experience there were no street musicians and we were told by more than one person that it is discouraged there, but i do not know officially what the status of that is.  The “worker song” tradition is a folk tradition and when they speak of the streets it seems that reference is more regarding the “tougher” neighborhoods than actually performing publicly.

Stylistically, is the tradition that The Good Ones music stems from something that is still vibrant in the country or is it a sound that is near extinction due to abandonment by younger generations?

Rwanda is musically diverse and vibrant, but in our experience most of the music currently being made there was akin to American hip-hop and R & B, but with Kinyrwandan lyrics.

It seems like you had a goal to prove that Rwanda had something important and valid to offer the world musically, but when you went there, you had such difficulty locating anything of substance.  Do you feel that The Good Ones are ultimately a representation of Rwanda, simply a singular musical anomaly of a few individuals creating magic, or, at this point, does that even matter?

They are individuals.  Rwanda is a complex and rich culture of almost 10 million people.  There is definitely something magical and unique about the music these three men make, though.

This is basically just an extension of the last question but, coming from a country with such a loaded history, how important do you think it is to focus on the musicians as individuals vs where they are from?  How much importance do you place on the arts to create understanding and compassion between cultures?

Art is a great commonality and can transcend race, nationality, class, with amazing ease.  It can be one of the most powerful gateways for creating understanding and compassion.  Certainly, Dr. J or Jackie Robinson or James Joyce or Bruce Lee, did more for lastingly breaking down stereotypes and barriers between human beings than any politician could ever hope to.

The arts both reflect and for better or worse lead a culture. Rwanda deserves much recognition beyond the tragedies of the genocides.

When you met them that first night and they explained that they needed their third member to record, did you feel an urgency where you felt like you might lose the opportunity if you didn’t record immediately?

It was definitely a bit scary to wait, particularly since Stany and Adrien also harmonize quite well together.  But they were definitely right that it was even better with Jeanvier.

Click here to view the embedded video.

In the song “Gahinda Umpora Iki We” (“Sadness why do you persecute me?”) there is mention of the song Bertilde being stolen in the lines, “I wrote the song about Bertilde.  The morning after they stole it from me.  They put it on CDs and on DVDs.”  Did they explain that scenario in any more detail and how trusting and open were they to allowing you to record them, overall?

They definitely were wary.  The tradition of bootlegging is so predominant in Africa and most regions outside of North America, Japan, and Europe, that there basically is no official or legal record industry in much of the world.

There is such a variety to the subject matter from song to song, but much of the lyrics deal with concepts of universal wisdom.  I like that “Gahinda Umpora Iki We” lends a balance to that subject matter, demonstrating that even these men, who seem to have such a firm centered grip and uplifting view on everything, still have their own moments of fear and doubt.  “Umuntu Ni Nkundi” (“One person is like another”), however, seems to encompass more of the general tone of the album, because they don’t seem to be complaining about their circumstances, but rather, just understanding and seeing beyond them.  Based on the time that you spent with them, do you find that to be an accurate interpretation of their characters?

It seems that very few people in Rwanda have not directly been touched by unthinkable tragedy, so there is a palpable depth and sadness melancholy that underscores most interactions, but also a mature joy.

It’s my understanding that for the translations, you’re mother-in-law first had to translate the songs from an informal slang to Kinyarwandan, then to Italian and, after that, your wife translated them from Italian to English.  Did you have any idea what they were singing about when you were recording?  Was there any pause for explanation or did you just go straight through the recordings with little interaction?

Certainly there was an element of wanting to be sure that we knew what was being sung about and the quality of the lyric writing was another great revelation.  We did know that the vast majority of the songs were love songs as evidenced by 4 of the 12 titles being names of women.

Much of the content is universally relatable, like how “Ibyʼisi ni Ubusa” (The things of this earth one day or another will end) is about the impermanence of materialistic goods or how “Bakame nʼ Ingwe” (The fox and the leopard) addresses the pain of deceit and infidelity.  For me, “Egidia” is a bit more difficult to discern the meaning behind and I was hoping that you may be able to enlighten me about it.  I wasn’t sure if it’s just a simple story about a girl moving away without a trace or if there was anything more to it culturally that I would be missing.

My understanding is that often in Rwanda communication channels are difficult, so the poignancy of losing contact with someone can be quite deep.  For instance, my mother-in-law lost contact with her best friend for decades and had believed her dead, before discovering in 2008 that she was still alive.

As a successful public speaker on the subject of Anger Management, I am curious about your interpretation of the song, “Amagorwa yʼ Abagabo” (The desperation of men).

It is certainly one of the more controversial lyrics, but i think its largely redeemed by the final stanza.

“Usually some men have a difficult life
Usually some men have a difficult life
But there are some women who have a difficult life too
Try to speak…what do you say? If you speak, I come and beat you
Try to speak…what do you say? If you speak I come and beat you…
But not everyone is like that…”

Since there are limited forums for them to perform in publicly or as a “band”, I was surprised by how structured and well formed their songs were.  Do they consider themselves to be a formal group or just some friends playing music together?

They do consider themselves a formal group, but there are few venues for public performance in Rwanda.

Did you expect them to have so much material available from the beginning or were you surprised to find that they had such a large catalog to draw from?  Also, had you even intended to find that one group or did you expect to piece together more of a selection from different artists initially

It was a journey and quest with no real end-goal in sight, just the hope and faith that there would be much great music out there.  The depth of The Good Ones’ writing, particularly Adrien’s, is rare anywhere.  It has been gratifying to defy the “wisdom” of more than one of the European colonialist music-industry figures who act as the gatekeepers for bringing international music to the world and had the audacity to tell me, “Rwandan music is not good.“

I know that they cut the recording session shorter than you had hoped, because of a “meeting” the next day.  Are there hopes to record more of their work at some point?

It would be nice to record more.  And they certainly have much more material, some of which I heard (and was as strong as most songs on the record) and most of which i didn’t.

One of the first questions that I had regarding the unique nature of an album like Kigali Y Izahabu, relates to the concept of “production” versus “documentation”.  Then I found a comment from you stating that you view every album that you work on as a “field recording” on one level or another.  Producers are typically acknowledged for the signature touches that they put on an artist’s sound but, with something like The Good Ones in particular, the approach seems to be to avoid and/or remove as many fingerprints as possible.  How much does the approach to recording differ on an album like this and what, if anything, did you take away from it that might lend itself to your overall approach to recording in the future?

Hopefully, every experience is a learning process.  I view my job as trying to be as objective, invisible, and and ego-less as possible, and hopefully to help artists get out of their own way and not be tripped up by their own subjectivity.  For example, almost every artist I’ve ever known hates the song that is most beloved by neutral listeners.

In the interview with SFist.com you talk about your approach to working with an artist by stating that it is “More than getting them to do something, it’s getting them to not do something.”  Were The Good Ones extremely organic with the process, seeing as they don’t generally encounter a situation such as this, or was there any hesitation or issues of them trying to deliver something to you that they thought you may have wanted?

They were very professional and focused. they played Sara three times– once the first time and twice the night of the recording– and all three times it was uniformly stellar.  In my experience, in the absence of TV, video-games, etc. many African communities have deep practice of self-entertainment where expression musically is a normal part of daily life.

In the promotional images Jeanvier is holding a book labeled “Chitarra”, is that where they learned to play?

Stany is holding the book.  Its an Italian song book and he said he used it to learn many songs and was quite smitten with Italian culture from what he said.

You’ve been associated with Anti- records in the past; what brought you to Dead Oceans for this release?

Bob van Heur, a great independent promoter in the Netherlands, suggested that i contact Phil at Dead Oceans.  I was immediately impressed with how instantly Phil had an understanding of what made the band special– the deceptively complex vocal interplay, etc.

What’s the next step?  How much post-nurturing takes place with a project like this?

The next step is hopefully that they can tour Europe and/or the USA, but there are many bureaucratic elements that impede that.  Also, hopefully the record will find a place in the canon of “world music” and enjoy the longevity it deserves (and hopefully also provide greater financial rewards for the band).

It’s been an ongoing labor of love, but a pleasurable one.  The more people that hear the record, the greater  the benefit, i think for both the band and the listeners.

Before ending this, I wanted to give you an opportunity to tell us more about your new book “Anger Antidotes: How Not to Lose Your S#&!” which is coming out this year.

It’s been over 17 years in the making.  There are many books on the subject, but hopefully there are a few insights in this one that will help a few folks to find constructive alternatives to the negative behaviors we see around us so often.

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BUY Kigali Y’ Izahabu HERE

PLEASE CHECK OUT THE FOLLOWING LINKS:

IAN’s Official Website
The Good Ones (on Facebook)
The Good Ones (official Dead Oceans Artist Page)

This morning we discovered the work of a Ottawa, Toronto, Canada-based cartoonist by the name of Nick Cross.  Since then, I’ve spent my day watching his various animated shorts and work-in-progress clips, sifting through his print work and reading his blog.  While finding employment through larger animation companies, Cross has managed to make the time to create quite a few gems of his own.  His personal work has been nominated for numerous awards; often transcending the animated world and infiltrating  larger independent film festivals world-wide.  For someone such as myself, who has a very limited vocabulary when it comes to this type of work, Cross seems to utilize a very “classic” style of cartoon illustration in the vein of the New Adventures of Mighty Mouse, Ren and Stimpy, and The Powerpuff Girls.  The dialogue is minimal, if present at all, and the artist is much more inclined to use silent era dialog cards, if anything, to “illustrate” his points.  Beyond the occasional foley sound-effect, the audio is mostly comprised of old stock music, which is used to set the tone and pace.  In other words, the actual animating and the detailed movements of the characters are relied on to relay the storyline and to move it forward.

The video that originally ignited our interest in Nick Cross was his latest animated piece, “The Pig Farmer” (posted below). The video, which we discovered via the great Canadian illustration blog DRAWN!, was created by the cartoonist over the last 10 months and financed through private donations.  It is similar to Cross‘ previous work in that it focuses on such issues as rural innocence and nature vs corporate greed and industrialization.  Another aspect carried over from his past shorts is it’s graphic nature, adult themes, and the fact that this is NOT a cartoon for the children.  Don’t let the cutesy header image we’ve used fool you, this shit gets pretty hardcore.  Plus, it’s chock-full of clever pig-related puns and references (Cops, The Pen, Manson Family, etc.)

View it yourself, after the following description from the vimeo page:

“The Pig Farmer is a short animated cartoon by Nick Cross. A simple tale of a wayward soul, awash in an ocean of tragedy and regret.

Animated using Flash CS3 and a Cintiq 21UX tablet.
Backgrounds done in Photoshop CS4
Composited using After Effects CS5 and Final Cut Pro 5.“

Click here to view the embedded video.

Make sure to view the following videos and links:

VIDEOS:

YELLOW CAKE

-”A lamentable tragedy mixed full of pleasant mirth.”

The Waif of Persephone

-”Persephone, the goddess of spring, is abducted to the underworld, causing an eternal winter to descend over the earth. It is up to the goddess’ servants to rescue her. However, they soon learn that to get help they need to compromise; and compromise does not always lead to an equitable solution for one and all.

Six years in the making, The Waif of Persephone was completed in 2006 and has screened in festivals around the world. ”

Angora Napkin (pilot)

- An Eisner Award winning graphic novel picked up as an animated series by Canadian cable animation channel Teletoon.  Angora Napkin is based on 3-piece all girl rock group that get into hijinks (again NOT for children).  The project was co-created by Cross and friend/fellow animator Troy Little and the pilot is a 2-parter involving zombies, Evil Dead references, violence, and erotic moments with sea life.

LINKS

Nick Cross on VIMEO
Nick Cross on YOUTUBE
Pyatyletka.blogspot.com (Nick’s Blog)
Official Angora Napkin production blog

It’s already the year 2011, which means that we’re only 9 months away from the 10 year anniversary of the attacks on the world trade center.  For a lot of us, 9-11 is our Kennedy assassination; meaning that we all remember where we were when we heard the news.  I, for one, was working for the housing department at the Evergreen State College and both coincidentally and inappropriately listening to “You Dropped A Bomb on Me” by the Gap Band.  After the shock subsided, that’s when the country began losing their goddamn minds.  It’s been almost a fucking decade already and, within that time frame, the American people have transformed from a savage pack of wolves, thirsty for the blood of any brown person they could locate, into a country that is thirsty for the blood of the black man that they elected for President, because he hasn’t worked fast enough to taper down the inertia that was push-started by that, aforementioned, original thirst for blood.  Oh, America.  Remember that time, when we had a new collective anger that was fresh and clear?  We didn’t just have to be disgruntled in our usual, personal ways or even complain about our government anymore.  Sure, we hate our families, but they’re OUR families and no outsiders were gonna tell us what’s what or give us the what for.  We were together on something… a team, if you will.  All of us!  Everyone!  That is…  except for people like myself, of course, who are clearly some sort of nondescript ethnicity that recklessly refuses to shave regularly.  Throughout the two-thousand-oughts, however, everything has slowly muddled out as usual and we all hate the government again and, of course, each other.  It’s pretty much just like it used to be, except that less people have jobs, privacy rights, or even their lives.  We do have a lot more gadgets, though and I have a pretty strong feeling that, if you really did some honest research, we wouldn’t choose to have it any other way.  Yep, it’s pretty much the same and it’s clear as all get out that no single tragedy, no matter how large or catastrophic, will likely ever capsize our chosen way of life.  There’s actually a beauty to that, otherwise depressing, reality, I think.  Yep, it’s pretty much the same and one thing that continues to ring true is our blind pride and baseless dislike for anyone that we get the feeling thinks that they are better than us.  I’m not talking about Al Qaeda; there’s no question that whole situation is all terribly fucked.  I, of course, am referring to none other than the French.

Why do we hate the French, again?  Oh yeah, because it’s super easy.  They’re like that girl in your office building, or your English class, or… wherever, that you don’t really have a major reason to dislike her for, but there’s just something about her.  Basically, it’s just catty shit.  The Real Housewives argument type shit.  Bring it On cheerleader tournament and My Super Sweet 16 party feuding.  It’s a safe dislike, where nobody really wants to bomb each other, but just make comments under their breath about each other’s designer knock-offs and supposed cankles.  It’s the type of bickering that the Olympics and World Cup were invented to settle.  We used to be friends and then everything went all Lauren and Heidi between us.  They’re all smug with their health care like they came to school with the same handbag that they knew we were gonna buy.
“Bitch.” …
“What was that?!”
“Oh… nothing.”
Or maybe they’re more like the friend caught in the middle of a fight that doesn’t wanna get involved.  Whatever the case, the minute that they refused to charge in, blowing shit up with us the way we wanted, we began harpooning accusations of anti-freedom towards the very country that gave us the Statue of Liberty in the first place.  “Patriots” stopped eating “French” Fries and began ordering “Freedom” Fries (I was still eating jalapeno poppers).  Even now that the majority of Americans seem to retroactively disagree with the methods involved with the initial launch into our war in Afghanistan, it doesn’t feel like much of our lukewarm animosity towards the French has really subsided.  Why would we admit any mistakes?  That’s not the American way.  My hopes with this post are to finally flush out the negative feelings that many Americans have continued to harbor towards the country once and for all.  Considering the fact that France is known for yielding the most famous mime in history, I know that it will be a difficult task, but I think that I have discovered something so hardcore, powerful, and undeniably awesome that it will be difficult to refute it’s powers.

For quite some time, I have held the belief that the best way to overcome cultural differences is through the cultural differences themselves.  What I mean is that, it’s really difficult to completely discount the Japanese because ninjas and samurai are so fucking amazing and, no matter how racist and bigoted towards the Mexicans someone is, it’s hard to deny the delicious power of a taco truck.  As for France, they’ve gained some musical success in The States with bands like Air and Phoenix, but that only effects the fans that lean more towards indie-pop music and they probably read books and don’t really hate the French anyway.  A more effective exhibition of their contributions to the world would be to bring up DAFT PUNK, however, they are, by all accounts, futuristic space robots and don’t really count anyway.  My first thought would be to try and make a case through Serge Gainsbourg, first and foremost, but that’s not gonna get you very far with the real hardcore right-wing Southern boys that would just ask me if I was “some kinda faggot” for listening to “that pussy bullshit“.  If anything, such artists only hurt the cause in the eyes of America, who looks at the French like a nation of snuggling art pansies who were too pussy to throw a punch or, more importantly, a grenade, in the first place.  So, what is something that everyone can understand?  What’s a universal language?  Booze!  The Russians have vodka, the Dutch have gin, the Caribbean is credited with rum, Ireland and Scotland lay claim to whiskey.  What is France known for?  That’s right, sparkling wine.  French food isn’t exactly something for the average Joe Stars-N’-Stripes and neither is French cinema.  The Professional was great, but it didn’t exactly have the widespread appeal or audience of films like Braveheart or the Godfather trilogy and, subsequently, didn’t do as much to give the France the type of badass persona that the Scotts and Italians garnered from their respective representations on the big screen.  We are on the right track, though.  I believe that Jackie Chan once said something to the effect that the reason that his work translates across borders so well is because, even if people don’t understand the language or much else about a foreign culture, everyone understands a punch to the face.

Just recently, we came across a video by a French electronic recording artist by the name of KLEMENT.  The song is called “Supersize“, which is already a pretty great start if you want to win the hearts of America.  Of course, for all we know, the lyrics might actually be a direct attack on our country, but I can’t tell the difference and we will generally listen to anything as a people as long as we can type our feet to it.  The track has a driving high-octane rhythm, which doesn’t let up until the end.  That being said, the best part of the video really can’t be contributed to Klement alone, but to the the team that created the visuals.  Château-Vacant is the name of a art/design collective comprised from the talents of Yannick Calvez, Lémuel Malicoutis & Baptiste Alchourroun, Frenchman who are now residing in Montreal (don’t worry, we still don’t have to give the Canadians a break, quite yet).  Their work for the project revolves around cut-outs and the type of animation that is not reliant on overly high-tech equipment and computer imaging.  Throughout the masterpiece, which is the “Supersize” video, you will experience the main character tearing through one of the most testosterone-filled animated journeys this side of a Super Jail or Metalocalypse massacre sequence.  After starting his day with a classic stretch, pull-up, and jumping jack routine, our hero kicks things into hyper-drive; doing flips over brick walls, skydiving, head-butting trees in half, flying a plane through the sun, starting an avalanche with a stick of dynamite, and even bicycle kicking the head off of an elephant.  If this footage of ass-kicking wonderment isn’t enough to diffuse some of the animosity towards the French and quell the idea that they know nothing about being hardcore and mannish, then I don’t know what will.  All that I do know is, if this is the type of shit that is REALLY going down over there, you can officially leave me out of any further instigation against these people.  Then we’ll see who’s laughing when I’m one of the only one of us being freed from the belly of a giant whale via motorbike.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Find out more about KLEMENT at Myspace.com/klement666

and…

Check out the work of Chateau-Vacant through HERE

On October 18th, a, now infamous, televised debate was held for New York‘s 2010 Gubernatorial election.  Along with conservative Republican candidate, Carl Paladino, the current NY State Attorney general/Democratic nominee, Andrew Cuomo, and 4 others, there was one relatively unknown third-party candidate that managed to overshadow the other 6 and take the world by storm.  Looking like a cross between Rudy Ray Moore and Dr. Zaius, Jimmy McMillan used his pimp-style cadence to express the core positions of his “Rent Is 2 Damn High Party“, which include a pro-gay-marriage stance and, as would be expected, a belief that the rent in NY is “too damn high“.  Over the last 2 weeks, McMillan‘s stock has risen, as the footage from the debate has continued to spread across sites like Youtube and spring-board him to into full-on internet meme status.  In this relatively short period of time, the McMillan footage has been treated to the usual auto-tune remix treatments and SNL parody, while the man himself has received backlash, due to information suggesting that he doesn’t even pay rent on his own apartment, but rather provides maintenance services in exchange for his housing.  Now, the latest news surrounding the aspiring Governor involves another step towards celebrity status with the release of his very own full-length LP of poverty-inspired soul jams.

Before we delve further into that topic, however, we want to provide you with some original footage from the debate, as a foundation for anyone who has yet to see it:

Click here to view the embedded video.

The internet age has provided mankind with the ability to spread and mutate information at an unheard of and alarming rate.  Although, most people were completely unaware of McMillan‘s existence until recently, this isn’t his first foray into politics or the public eye.  In fact, Jimmy started the “Rent Is Too Damn High Party” 20 years ago, under which he has already run for Mayor of NYC in (1993, 2005, & 2009), Governor of NY State (1994) , and US Senate (2000).  His 1993 run, under the moniker “Prince Jimmy McMillan” (aka: Papa Smurf), involved him being involved in such newsworthy fiascos as being found blindfolded, doused in gasoline, and tied to a tree next to the Belt Parkway and scaling the Brooklyn Bridge, while demanding TV coverage, after which he was talked down by police and hospitalized.  That election found him coming up 300 signatures short of qualification for the general election ballot.  For the 1994 Gubernatorial race, he stayed in shelters, while traveling on foot from Brooklyn to the site of the Democratic Convention in Buffalo, where he commenced heckling, then governor, Mario Cuomo and was tossed out.  He failed to make the ballot from lack of signatures that year, as well, and was removed from the 2000 senate ballot, in which he was challenging Hilary Clinton.  For his mayoral runs in ‘05 and ’09, McMillan did qualify for the general election ballots but, with his new found fame, tomorrow’s Nov. 2nd Gubernatorial election should put McMillan in, arguably, the best position that he’s ever had to give his party the National recognition that he has fought so erratically passionately for.

The more information that is released about McMillan, the more fascinating he becomes as a figure.  Beyond his political aspirations, Jimmy has also been credited as a Karate master/instructor, actor, postal worker, “independent private investigator”, a bodyguard for Mel Hall (ex-Yankee Outfielder/convicted rapist), author, former stripper, and Vietnam vet.  His time in NAM and, more specifically, his exposure to Agent Orange are what he attributes to his constant “need” to sport his trademark black gloves, by stating, “When I get home tonight, I know I’m not going to be able to breathe if I take them off. It could be psychological, I don’t know, but I just put em on and wear them anyway.“  He’s been referred to and/or adopted such names as “Prince Jimmy McMillan“, “Papa Smurf“, “The Black Hulk Hogan“, “Santa Clause on Venus“, and “Rambo“, but there’s one specific pseudonym that has, surprisingly, gained much less exposure, recently.  That alias is none other than “JIMMY MACK“, soul singer extraordinaire.

Here’s a popular Jimmy Mack‘s single titled, “A Woman is So Hard to Understand” that was released 35 years ago by Hamster records.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Tomorrow is now much more than a day for Jimmy to earn the support of New Yorkers and take a shot at becoming governor, it also marks the release of his official return to the music industry.  His new release, The Rent is Too DAMN High (Volume 1), will receive a worldwide digital release from iTunes, Amazon.com and other digital music outlets, on Tuesday, Nov. 2nd, with a physical release slated to follow on December 7th.  We received our copy today and it’s 12 songs deep; composed of electronic drum beats, soulful grooves, and funky synth jams.

Here’s the first single, titled “What Is This?”

Why this track was chosen for the lead off single, I can only speculate.  In my opinion, it is definitely not one of the strongest efforts on the release and it didn’t really showcase his vocal abilities.  I would have probably dropped something like the super funky, “Ghostbusters“-era Ray Parker Jr jam, “Come To The Floor” or the NELLY-esque rap-inspired, 2-step “Landlord Listen Up“, before anything.  This album jumps from sounding like Rockwell and Ready for the World into spooky “Murda Was the Case“-style Dr. Dre production.  Then there’s the song “R.E.N.T” with it’s chaotic mish-mash of overlaps, which sound like the voice of satan being ghetto-processed through a Casio SK-1 sampler.  Basically, what I’m trying to say is that… it’s kind of awesome and probably better than you would expect.  On top of that, you have to give McMillan props for making the entire album all by himself.  Keep in mind, this is a full-length album and, just because the last two weeks have provided McMillan with a platform to release it, that doesn’t necessarily mean that the whole thing was simply thrown together within that time frame.

Here are some quotes from the man himself, pertaining to the effort:

“I like to listen to myself as I drive around campaignin’. It keeps me focused and gets me really pumped up. I wrote and recorded all these songs myself and never thought anyone would like them.”

and:

“The guitar is my main instrument but I play everything from drums to the violin.”

As you might have guessed, most of the subject matter on the album is restricted to the topics of rent, the cost of living, and voting.  With an album full of lyrics which encourage the listener to “Vote for the Rent’s 2 Damn High Party and Jimmy McMillan November 2nd” being released on the one and only day that would make that suggestion even remotely relevant, one has to worry if the youth will even receive that dire message in time.  But don’t worry folks, “as a karate master” and Vietnam Vet with “3 Bronze Stars“, Jimmy Mack is no fool.  He knows that you can’t make a real soul album without at least one track devoted to making sweet love and sweet love making is one topic that is not only universal, but timeless, as well.

On the track “My Place“, Jimmy begs the question, “Does he ever take those gloves off?“, as he woos the ladies with such lyrics as:

“I know you didn’t come to talk

Let’s get it on

We can do it in the hall, In the kitchen

We can do it while I’m talking on the phone

We can do it while I’m moppin’ the floor

We can do it while I’m cleanin’ the kitchen

We can do it while I’m rakin’ the yard

We can do it in the car,

in the backseat, on the hood, on the truck, on the floor, in da- oh MY GAWD!“

But is that enough, really?  The election is tomorrow, but the physical release of the album doesn’t come out until December 7th.  I hear ya… but, like I said, Jimmy McMillan is no fool!  He’s got it covered folks, with a brand new Holiday classic just in time for the season.

The following lyrics are taken from the track “Rent 2 High Christmas“:

“Santa Clause got evicted

Cause he couldn’t pay his rent

Now he sleeping in a park, in a tent

Yeah, he homeless“

In all honesty, the stripped-down holiday tune might be my favorite song on the entire album, so far.  Regardless of the fact that it is cursed with the combination novelty of being both a Christmas tune and part of a political campaign, Jimmy‘s vocals are incredibly soulful and I’m a sucker for the melodica-style keys that support it.  Plus, it’s somber groove allows it to operate outside of the polarizing formulas of “overly cheery” or “depressingly religious” that Holiday music is generally restricted to.

If you want to buy the album, it’s available for only $5.99 through our Amazon link HERE.
If you want to see a karate fighting, glove-clad soul-singer become Governor of NY, make sure to place your vote for Jimmy McMillon on November 2nd.

Click here to view the embedded video.

TRACK LIST

1. Come 2 The Floor
2. Aint Nothing To Talk About
3. This Is What I Like
4. Vote 4 Me
5. What Is This?
6. R.E.N.T.
7. When You Can’t Pay Your Rent
8. Yaba
9. Land Lord Listen Up
10. My Place
11. Rent 2 High Christmas (listed as “Rent Party Christmas” on Amazon)
12. I Never Seen

LINKS

Jimmy’s official site
Jimmy on Twitter

This morning I followed a facebook post of a tweet of a link that was originally a blog post by beat maker/producer Blockhead.  The post was on his blog Phat Friend and, since I never knew that the blog existed and since I instantly liked what I saw him doing with the site, I decided to browse around and scope out what else he had going on.  What I found was crazy as all get out and is something that I have a feeling will be everywhere by tomorrow.  In fact, as I type this, it’s already spreading like swine aids.

Beyond an embedded video, all that Blockhead‘s post said was “I just saw this and I really have no words.  Just watch“.  That’s probably all that needs to be said but, as anyone who has read any decent amount of content on this site knows, I always have words.  This time, however, I’ll leave them until after the video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

This video was directed by Martin Usher and James Davis of Live That Life Productions and it is one of those rare Youtube parodies that is actually pretty awesome.  Unfortunately, this parody is bound to spawn endless sub-parodies because, no one can ever leave well enough alone.  You can follow James Davis on twitter at twitter.com/theejamesdavis.

Although this video is hilarious alone, it’s probably important to know that it is actually a parody of the video for “Hard in Da Paint” by Waka Flocka Flame.  If you are like me and you aren’t even interested in keeping up with a lot of this newer MTV rap bullshit, then you might not know of Waka Flocka.  I, admittedly, didn’t know who the fuck he was until after the fact, but this will definitely bring even more added attention to his career.  From what I’ve gathered, he is the son of Gucci Mane‘s fired manager Debra Antney.  As for his name, I still don’t get it or why he’s running around at the end of the original video screaming it out and sounding like Fozzy Bear.

Here’s the original  (I wonder which one will sell more on iTunes?):

Click here to view the embedded video.

Earlier today, I noticed a substantial jump in site views for an old article that I wrote a little over 2 years ago.  The post was about the notorious UK street artist, BANKSY and an animatronic pet store that he had set up in NYC and made available to the public during that time period.  Not unlike his other work, the project was a remarkable and innovative effort, charged with abrasive tongue-in-cheek social commentary.  Sure, it was a fascinating endeavor, but why all of the interest now?  Why today?  I didn’t know myself, until the latest episode of The Simpsons aired and the introduction had BANKSY‘s name written all over it (literally).

According to a post today on Wooster Collective, the artist is responsible for both storyboarding and directing the intro.  In BANKSY‘s typical irreverent fashion, the elusive stencil-master utilized this “unheard of” opportunity to design one of the most legendary opening sequences in television history to take jabs at the program itself.  References regarding heartless and unapologetic capitalism/consumerism are addressed through biohazard containers, a sweatshop unicorn, and kittens in a woodchipper.  Serious subject manner?  Yeah… but, BANKSY‘s strength has always lied in his ability to fuse these loaded topics with light-hearted humor and biting wit.  Judging by our own search stats alone, seeing BANKSY‘s name on Matt Groening‘s program was enough to intrigue unfamiliar viewers and set them off on a Googling mission.  We’re sure that this latest platform will result in some additions to the graffiti hooligan’s fan base, but we’re also confident that it will, undoubtedly, rouse up quite a few more haters… as usual.  He seems to have that  polarizing effect on people.

Click here to view the embedded video.

For additional info on BANKSY and to view footage of the Village Pet Store & Charcoal Grill CLICK HERE

For a solid chronicle of information and images from BANKSY, we highly recommend picking up a copy of the hardcover book,  BANKSY Wall & Piece.

All you kids still love Neil Young, right?  I hope so because, If not, that means that guy-liner and neon warpaint has finally won and that you’re generation is officially worthless.

Although it’s credited with an internet leak on September, 18th, Young‘s latest album received it’s officially release just date two days ago on the 28th.  Titled Le Noise, due to it’s production efforts by Daniel Lanois, it is only 8 tracks in length with a total running time of about 38 minutes.  Daniel earns the credit honored to him through the title/pun with some solid production work that preserves Neil‘s trademark strengths and earnest voice, while providing a new spin and dimension to his sound.  The project has a very stripped down feel to it, as it is completely devoid of overdubs or any additional players.  Lanois describes it simply as, “a man on a stool and me doing a nice job on the recording“.  I’ve personally been listening to it for the last couple of days and it has a really powerful sound to it.  Sure, it’s “sparse”  but there’s still a lot to it and there’s space for wind to blow through and breath life into the tracks.  From the very first chord on the opener, “Walk with Me“, Young comes shattering through like some kind of sonic kaiju.

Most of the care regarding the audio was put in beforehand, versus a lot of studio tricks and post-production work being utilized.  Lanois, further elaborates on the process through the following quotes:

“Neil was so appreciative of the sonics that we presented to him,”

“He walked in the door and I put an acoustic guitar into his hands — one that I had been working on to build a new sound. That’s the multi-layered acoustic sound that you hear on the songs ‘Love and War’ and ‘Peaceful Valley Boulevard.’ I wanted him to understand that I’ve spent years dedicated to the sonics in my home and that I wanted to give him something he’d never heard before. He picked up that instrument, which had everything — an acoustic sound, electronica, bass sounds — and he knew as soon as he played it that we had taken the acoustic guitar to a new level. It’s hard to come up with a new sound at the back end of 50 years of rock and roll, but I think we did it.”

Although we recommend picking up a copy of Le Noise, there are quite a few versions of the album slated to be released.  Everything from a standard CD, vinyl, and digital download to a deluxe CD/DVD have been assembled, and it has even been announced that a Blue Ray version will be released by REPRISE in November.  “DVD?  BLUE RAY?“  Yep… which brings me to the primary reason for this post.  Every one of the tracks featured on Le Noise were recorded in the producer’s beautiful home and captured on video by cinematographer, Adam Vollick, who also provided the cover art.  The result is more than just a collection of music videos or even a collection clips with Neil sitting in a sterile soundbooth with headphones pinned to the side of his skull.  The “8 black and white films” featuring the 8 corresponding tracks from the album have just been released by Young today and, in true internet-age fashion, we have simply swiped and embedded them below for your viewing pleasure.
[Full track list featured under the video.]

“I was very privileged to be involved in an uninhibited way to capture these raw performances on film”
- Adam Vollic

Click here to view the embedded video.

Tracklist

Walk With Me
Sign of Love
Rescue Me
Love And War
Angry World
Hitchhiker
Peaceful Valley Blvd.
Rumblin’

More video footage, including that of Lanoise speaking about the project, can be found HERE

Towards the end of The XX‘s set, Kim woke up confused.  She was half asleep and must have still been lost in a dream, because she was talking nonsense.  She tried to prop herself up and people were stomping and moving all around her, so she had to make like a recently birthed giraffe and get to figuring out how to walk with the quickness.  I got her up and we started moving out of the crowd, but it seemed like she was doing even worse.   She was having some trouble breathing and, as is often the case with panic attacks, it was difficult to figure out if she was actually physically sick or if it was just an anxiety issue.  It was clear that she wasn’t feeling well, but didn’t want me to miss the festival. “We are going back to the tent, now. I don’t want to talk about it… c’mon.”

We reached the turnstiles and it hit me that I might just be able to pay for that re-entry fee that I’d heard about.  I figured that I was going to miss everything that I wanted to see that night but, we had a couple of hours and there was a chance that Kim would still be able to see Massive Attack.  Fuck it, we still had tomorrow.  While Kim waited off to the side, I asked some kid working on the staff how and if I could hook up one of these $10 re-entry situations.   His answer was that, although they actually had instituted the re-entry policy, I couldn’t pay for it anymore because it was after 7.  I made it clear that I needed this fiasco worked out and they pointed me towards the woman who could make that happen.  These guys just want to work at a festival and they don’t want to deal with my shit.  If you are cool with them, talk fast, and make it clear that you understand this and are willing to become someone else’s problem, they will usually help you out. I went up to the lady, flashed my wristband and said something like, “My girlfriend over there is sick. I’m covering the show and have a wristband, so I won’t have any problem getting back in. The problem is that she doesn’t and these guys won’t scan her ticket.  I’m working right now and need to get back inside later, but I’m not gonna leave her in the campground by herself.  Can you help us out.  I was told that I needed to talk to you.” All she said was, “Where’s your ticket.“  Then she scanned it for free and we were out.

The trip back to the campground was pretty rough.   At first, we stopped every few feet, so that she could sit down.  Then she was having chest pains.  “Let me know if we need to go to a med tent or if we just need to walk back to the camping spot.” She’d say that she wanted to keep moving and I would respond with, “Let’s get there quick then.“  Thirty seconds later, we’d be taking another break.  It was stressful and when we hit the general store I stopped and bought a pack of cigarettes.  We hadn’t smoked since August, but it seemed like a necessity.  A mini lighter and a pack of Camel Lights cost $15.  On the way up the trail I could hear “Daft Punk is Playing at My House“. Fuck!  I was missing LCD Soundsystem, but I didn’t want to show any disappointment… she felt bad enough.  We eventually got back to the tent and she laid down again.  We didn’t have access to the van, but I made her drink some water and eat as much as she could of one of the sandwiches that she had smashed with her head while sleeping on the backpack.

The one thing that I truly discovered, regarding the re-entry policy, is that the best way to benefit from it is by camping outside of the campground and leaving your car in the parking lot out front.   If a shitty beer costs $9 a pop, then heading back to your car to take a break, eat a full meal, and drink endless delicious beers for the price of $10 is probably a better idea.  The issue with heading back to the campground is that it is way too far away.  The benefit of having a campground, however, is that you have a place to lay down once you get there.  Still, in my situation, just being able to make it back to a car faster would have been nice.

Anyone that’s familiar with anxiety attacks knows that they are not awesome. I had pretty much given up on seeing Pavement and that was going to have to be good enough.  Every once in a while, I would think that everything was cool and that there was a possibility that we could actually head back, but then it would instantly become clear that she wasn’t better yet and I didn’t want to go unless she was. “You should go back without me.“  “Nope.  I’m not leaving you hear to freak out by yourself.“  “I don’t want us to have to miss The XX.“  “We already missed the XX.  Remember?“  Then she’d feel shitty again.  I came up with a lot of pseudo-logical backwards explanations for why it wasn’t a big deal to make Kim feel better.  I realized that they almost sounded as if they made sense,  if I said them quick enough.   She was having a problem with anxiety and I couldn’t think of one possible scenario where her feeling guilty was going to help make this situation any better.  It was a catch 22, but the quicker that she was able to stop feeling bad about missing the show, the better chance there was for her to actually see the show.

PAVEMENT

We laid in the tent for a while and time continued to pass.  Pavement‘s start time came and went, but I still didn’t hear them playing from where we were.  This wasn’t gonna happen, I thought.  “I guess I won’t have much of a review.“  I looked back over to Kim and she still wasn’t looking good.  Then something happened; I heard the music shift and the sound was now clearly coming from another stage.  “Was this Pavement?  Did they just go on late?”   Then it was obvious that it was… and that they did.  Yep, I had just heard “Cut Your Hair” kick in.  I knew that Kim heard it too, because she sprung up a little.  Then she said,  “I think I can make it.“  She even looked a little different… a little better, but I didn’t want to get too excited.  I tried to remove any emotion from my voice and asked, “Are you sure that you can actually make it down there?  I just want to make sure that you’re alright.  It’s not a big deal, we still have tomorrow.“  “Yeah… I can do it.“  “Alright, lets get the fuck out of here now then.“  “How are we gonna get back in?”   “Don’t worry about it.  I told you, I have it covered.”

We hobbled from our tent and out of the campground pretty quickly and, on the way out, I could hear the song end and the next one begin.   It sounded like “Trigger Cut“.  As we stumbled down the long trail up towards the parking lot, “Rattled by the Rush” was playing.  Kim looked at me and said, “I think that I was just rattled by the rush.”   She was smiling.  We walked past the general store, then the will call.  I could hear “Father to a Sister of Thought” playing so clearly from there that I actually slowed down.  I knew that the minute that I turned the wrong corner there would be a dead moment for the sound and I really wanted to enjoy it.  Kim had been so out of it that she had kind of missed me getting the ticket scanned and was still skeptical about our ability to re-enter.  The ticket scanned without a problem and, as we speed-walked towards the main stage, we were hitting that pocket of mashed sound from different directions.  They were playing “In the Mouth of a Desert” at this point, but I wasn’t hearing it. We walked over the hill and saw the stage.  It was slightly cool and the evening backdrop was amazing.  It was generic and cliche, but it was still magical.   This is what makes the Gorge worth it.  Somehow I always forget and this was the first time that I actually felt this all weekend.  They had just started “Kennel District” and I was happier than the Vatican with a glass-bottom kiddie pool?

Sure, we had a disappointing day up until this point, but everything had slowed down to the point where it felt like time had stopped.  I wasn’t worried about what I had missed and I didn’t care to think about what was coming up next.  I wasn’t running around with my fucking camera or trying desperately to document everything for the future.  I was actually present and sitting in the cool grass with slight breezes floating past.  Pavement played “Grounded” next and it sounded great.  I had actually forgotten that I had even wanted to hear that one but, like everything that they played that night, it felt like the perfect song for that moment.  Kim looked at me and mentioned how she had lost a whole afternoon, but that didn’t matter to either of us anymore.  Damn… this Pavement show really sounded amazing.

When “Silent Kit” came, I thought to myself, “Yes! This is awesome but, of course their gonna play one of the hits.“  Then I realized that, besides “Cut Your Hair“, I’m not really sure which ones are considered the Pavement “hits” and what aren’t.  This also meant that anything from the catalog was game.  Next was “Date With Ikea” and then a wonderful performance of “Spit on a Stranger.“  For such a crudely titled song, there’s something really beautiful about it and I loved knowing that there was really nothing else that I should be doing, besides sitting on the hill with my lady with a beautiful landscape unfolding into the distance and all of that sound pouring back at us.  The lyrics of “Spit on a Stranger” are based in the ideas of being a “perfect match” and working through anything and doing whatever it takes. Lines like that, which reflected our day, would pop out at us and help to verbalize the wonderfully corny shit that I was feeling.  It also reminded me about the importance behind the bands reunion.  Malkmus has been making criminally under-appreciated albums with The Jicks since their disbandment and the last time that I saw Mark Ibold perform, it was as a bassist for Sonic Youth.   It was nice to see them all back together and I would make the claim that they sounded as if they never broke up, if they didn’t actually sound so much better than ever.  When the song had finished, Malkmus reinforced what I had been feeling by saying that the song had come, “right from the fourth chakra.“  My guess it that he was only mostly joking.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The energy was amplified for “Unfair” and it provided Bob Nastanovich with an opportunity to showcase his abilities as the all around wildcard.  When his moment came, the percussionist/multi-instrumentalist/backing-vocalist hopped around like a fucking maniac and it was great to see that his trademark scream has more than remained in-tact.  Then came “Starlings of the Slipstream“, another amazing song.   They played “Fight This Generation” and when they got to the second more aggressive half, Nastanovich pulled out a slide whistle and followed it up by contributing more backing vocals screams.  This was also the point where Malkmus’ understated guitar skills really took center stage.   Pavement is notorious for “fucking off” in their live shows from the 90′s or simply just accused of playing terribly on purpose.  I never got a chance to see them during that time period, so that isn’t anything that I can personally verify, but somehow, through his lackadaisical and seemingly apathetic approach to his guitar work, he still sounded amazing.  This bastard literally had the body of his guitar resting on top of his bicep, while he glanced off at the floor and chopped at the neck, but the notes still sounded impeccable.

I doubt that it was just because it was Stephen Malkmus‘ birthday, but the energy was great.  I love Pavement‘s music, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I will love them performing it.  Having it ingrained in my head so much actually increases my ability to be more critical of it.  Everything sounded perfect.  I don’t really know how else to describe their sound except for… “perfect”.  Generally, when there’s something that I’m really looking forward to, there is also some basic outline of an idea that fuels that enthusiasm.  Then once I’m at the event, the preconceived expectations adjust to the slight variations and merge into whatever the reality of what I’m actually experiencing is.  This show was different and, somehow, it felt exactly “right”.  I’ve had shows surprisingly blow me away and I’ve been let down, but this was some kind of freak Goldilocks-style scenario.  The transitions throughout the setlist were really smooth and never seemed to slump.  They alternated the tracks in a way that stabilized the energy and kept the show fresh; never burning out the intensity too fast or heading too far in the other direction and putting the crowd to sleep.

They followed “Fight This Generation” with the slower “We Dance“, which featured Nastanovich‘s young daughter, Lulu playing keyboards as her proud father stood behind her.  Next was “Gold Soundz“, another favorite that I had hope to hear that night.  For this one, Malkmus pulled off even more ridiculous guitar work than before.  He threw his guitar over head and swung it around, all the while maintaining his solo.  Again, it visually appeared that he was just fucking around, but the audio was so on point that what my eyes and ears were witnessing didn’t line up.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Obviously, by arriving late, I was afraid that I had missed a large percentage of the show.  By this point, however, it was becoming pretty clear that they had planned to play a hefty set.  In total, they wound up playing a full 22 different songs that night.  People who’d seen them earlier on this tour had told me that “they played everything” but I guess that I didn’t completely grasp what they meant by that.  They played “Stereo“, “Here“, and “Two States“.  This didn’t feel like some corny mandatory stop on a cheesy reunion tour, it just felt like an amazing show.  Just as I was reflecting on how any and all of the physical and/or emotional wear that we had endured up until this point had dissipated, I heard the beginning chords of “Range Life.”  This was going well and nothing could fuck this up… or, at least that’s what I thought.

Just as I was finally hearing the one song that I had been waiting for, some drunken asshole stumbled backwards onto us and stepped on my arm.  In retrospect, I probably should have pushed him forward and down the hill, but he was about to crush my camera bag, as well as my girlfriend.  It was a really nice romantic moment.  This dipshit was wearing a big goofy ass straw hat and carrying a giant plastic guitar-shaped drink in one hand.  He was a typical party cliche.  I’m honestly surprised that he didn’t have a fucking lampshade on his head.  We prevented him from falling forward, by catching him him as he stomped hard on both of us, so I just wanted him to leave.  He tried to lean over and talk to me, but I told him to just go back to where he was sitting before.  With his thick Australian accent and drunken slur, I couldn’t understand what he was squawking at me.  He was talking to me during the show, so I didn’t really want to try and decipher what the fuck he was saying anyway.  He kept at it saying something that sounded like, “My phone!  My phone!  I think you have my phone.“  “I don’t have your shit, man.  Just go back to your seat.“  I was writing with a pilot pen that has a light at the end, so I shined it around next to me really quick and showed him that I didn’t have anything.  Then I asked him to piss off again.

A moment later, he came back and interrupted us again, telling me that he thought I had something of his.  We were sitting down with him looming over me.  This time he decided to grab the collar of the Wesley Willis hoody that I was wearing.  He was getting a little belligerent and was still trying to unsuccessfully talk over the music.  “Let go of my fucking hoody!  Take your fucking hand off my collar.“  Here’s where things shifted quick because, as everyone knows, you shouldn’t put your hands onto strangers.  I was wearing my wool jeep hat with the spikes across the front, but I wasn’t gonna head-butt him.  I still had that pen with a sharp tip in my right hand and this dick was leaning his neck towards me yelling shit.  A quick image flashed in my head of me shoving it into his neck- then blood- then a crowd of his friends and me being pulled out by security.  Then there were the secondary thoughts of Kim being disappointed, Live Nation being pissed, and me not getting in the next day.  That’s an instance where my Jewish side snuffed out my Puerto Rican side, almost immediatey.  I decided to use my words.  “Hey!  Hey!  You just fucking stepped on me and my girlfriend.  I don’t give a shit!  It’s over, leave!  I don’t want to talk to you, fuck off!“  Then I realized that he wasn’t saying “phone“, he was saying “thong“, but he was trying to communicate drunk, with a thick accent aggressively during a live show.  I looked around again and found that his flip-flop had falling off and was on top of my camera bag, which actually pissed me off even more.  I threw it behind me and said, “There you go, leave.”  A moment later he came back to say something to the effect of, “See, I told you mate.  You had my thong.  Don’t fuck with me!  Don’t you ever fuck with me!“  Whatever, pal.  I told him to fuck off again and went back to watching the show.

Pavement played “Summer Babe” next and I could swear that I heard that guy yelling something down the hill at me, but when I looked back it was dark.  I’m pretty sure that I could also hear his friends trying to get him to chill out.  I just tried to keep enjoying the show.  Then it was “Shady Lane“.  Nice.  I wrote it down in my little book and a wad of paper or something hit my knee.  I looked back again, but didn’t see him.  I told Kim that I thought I was having shit thrown at me.  Then a water bottle hit my leg and I turned around.  I noticed the guy was now wearing a yellow poncho and seated in the middle of the group.  “What’s the deal, pal?  What’s up motherfucker?“  He smiled and waved at me.  Kim yelled back at him, “Stop!  Just fucking stop!“  I told her to get up and as we walked up and out towards the walkway, I thought I saw him starting to follow us out of the corner of my eye.  This shit wasn’t going to stop on it’s own and it was possible that it was going to end bad, so I found a security guard.  I don’t always have much luck with security figures, so I flashed the wristband again and explained that I was trying to cover the show and that this fuck was trying to get me going.  “I could stab him, but I was hoping that you guys could help me out instead.  I have another day here and I don’t want to deal with this shit later.“  One guy called another guy, who called another guy.  Eventually, the right person, or at least the right number of people, were there.  They asked me to point him out from afar, because they didn’t want us to get close.  Then I guess they changed their minds and went with the opposite approach.  Security brought him up to where we were and he was even starting shit with them.  They asked him to stand somewhere, but he didn’t want to.  They asked him to sit, but he wasn’t feeling like it.  I was just pissed because I was trying to hear the show finishing up with “Stop Breathin’.”  Eventually, they asked us to talk face to face about everything.  The other guy immediately lost it, threateningly saying, “Don’t be stupid mate!  Don’t do something stupid!“  I responded fairly calmly but dismissed his bullshit. “You stepped on my girlfriend and then you started throwing shit.“  He continued moving towards me, ” I apologized to you mate!  I apologized for that!  Don’t be stupid!  Don’t do somethin-“  He was moving closer and right after I said, “You better back the fuck up!  Get the fuck out of my face!“  They grabbed him and took him out, with his friends following slowly and telling him that it was probably time to call it a night anyway.  I don’t get into a lot of confrontations like this, but it felt like we were a couple of chained dogs.  Crazy.  Great idea, putting two people that were having an altercation face to face.  The show was over.  This guy was just a reminder of the different reasons that people attend festivals like this, and concerts in general.  This guy showed up for a “rager” like it was a fucking Mardi Gras /Girls Gone Wild party.  Pavement just happened to be there at the same time.

Massive Attack

As we made our way closer for the Massive Attack set, I could hear Public Enemy playing in the distance.  Along with Pavement and They Might Be Giants, it was really rounding out to be a nineties throwback night.  Once we hit the floor, we settled next to a bunch of guys standing around in absurd get-ups.  Basically, they were all decked out in costumes and wigs.  A guy in a smoking jacket asked us how our night was going and we told him that some clown just tried to start some shit with us, but he was tossed and everything was cool now.  “Really?“  “Yeah, it was some Australian guy that was wrecked.“  That’s just when I noticed their accents and realized that all of these guys were Australian too.  “Maybe it was one of our guys.“  It wasn’t, but they unnecessarily apologized for their entire country.  These guys were in a great mood and were really excited to be at the show.  It was a nice little twist of events and we kicked it with them for a minute while we waited for the show to start.  Then we noticed Jesse and Briana up ahead, so we left to meet up with them instead.

I don’t have much of a history with Massive Attack, but Kim was really excited about seeing them.  Jesse and Briana seemed to be working with that same dynamic, because she had a look of anticipation, while he didn’t look like he gave a shit.  He leaned over to me and commented that, next to My Morning Jacket, this show might wind up in the running for the “most overrated band of the weekend.”  I had a feeling that he might be right about this, but it didn’t matter.  We had already gotten to see Pavement, we were happy, and they played everything that we had talked about earlier in the day.  Now it was only fair for our red-haired ladies to be able to enjoy some “trip-hop” music, or whatever the fuck was about to go down.

Essentially,  Massive Attack is now composed of the production duo of Robert “3D“ Del Naja and Grant “Daddy G“ Marshall working with a selection of both random and reoccurring collaborators.  For this tour they are promoting Heligoland, their first non-soundtrack full-length release in seven years; even longer if you consider that Del Naja was the only original member of the original 3-piece to appear on the last release, 100th Window (2001).  Their touring format involves a fairly elaborate stage show and began with an array of lights and smoke enveloping the silhouettes of a full electronic band set up.  Their lead off song, “United Snakes” is featured as a bonus track on their new release, but was originally a B-side from the “False Flags” single back in 2006.  Yep this show was gonna get political.  The energy that the introduction provided was promising, though.  It had a bit of a driving rhythm, propelled by the warbling buzz of a possum stuck in a bug zapper.  Strobe lights flashed and the fans stared at the stage mesmerized like it was a Jones Town for moths.  They had a giant LCD screen for a backdrop, which constantly changed throughout the show, and it was used for a lot of shit that ranged from corny to preachy.  On the corny end was having a rotating list of various drugs flash across it.

Click here to view the embedded video.

British vocalist, Martina Topley-Bird came out on stage to sing “Babel“,  one of her collaborations from the new release.  She had performed on the Yeti stage earlier in the day and was still dressed in a giant pink ballgown.  She almost looked as if a Neutrino from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles had gone shopping in the 5th Element.  She even manned the keyboards for a moment during the track but, once it ended, she waved to the crowd and left the stage.  Del Naja took control of the mic again to sing “Risingson” from Mezzanine.  The band looked exactly like you would expect a downtempo stadium electronic group to look; dressed in black with crisp hairstyles and headset mics.  Del Naja‘s vocal style is fairly monotone and he leaned up against a keyboard stand as he sang like some form of trip-hop crooner.

Horace Andy came out on stage next.  He’s an old ass grey-haired rasta who enjoyed a decent amount of success with his personal work as a roots reggae artist, before he began contributing vocals on Massive Attack albums in the nineties.  He has since gone on to appear on all 5 of their releases.  The song that he was performing now was another new track called, “Girl I Love You”.  This song actually has a pretty cool and brooding feeling to the instrumental but, without it, the lyrics would make it a pretty one-dimensional love song.  Andy‘s stage presence these days is about as exciting as drywall, but the high production value on the set is supposed to fill in for that.  During this song, statistical figures were consistently being generated behind him.  These figures were number values relating to government spending, Hurricane Katrina… basically, a ton of  unrelated political shit.  Yep, without the massive light board and effects, these guys don’t offer much in the way of live excitement.  The energy of their music doesn’t fluctuate much and they aren’t very animated as performers, but Kim was still dancing around and smiling.  “That’s good” I thought.  “She seems happy.“  Then I looked over and saw a couple of kids liquid dancing with glowsticks.  “Fuck!  Did I get dragged to a bad rave… again?”

The show continued with a similar ambient vibe and glitched out LCD effects.  The zeros and ones of binary code flashed across the back screen, but it never really felt “futuristic” to me or like the computer age; it felt more like I was in the nineties all over again.  This is a very structured live show, so there isn’t a lot of room for improvisations or spontaneity.  It was like a cross between a Vegas show and a hep local hangout, like the bar from The Crow.  Vocalists continued to come out for a single song and then leave with a bow, only to return later for another track.  It was a little like a variety show special or Ringo‘s All-star trip-hop band.  Topley-Bird came back out in a catsuit and the image of an eye appeared on the back screen.  People went nuts when they realized that she was going to sing “Teardrop” (Mezzanine).  In fact, Massive Attack actually did a few songs off of Mezzanine that night, including the title track, “Angel“, and “Inertia Creeps“.  Horace Andy returned for “Angel” and, for “Intertia Creeps“, random news headlines flashed across the backdrop.  Most of them were celebrity based, such as “Lohan Drama Reunites Family“, “Huff Hit By A-Rod’s Line Drive“, or “Mariah Carey Hush-Hush Fertility Secrets.“  One of them, however, contained an odd and coincidental reference to an “Aussie” being kicked out of a bar.  Shara Nelson was also on hand for a couple of songs.  She came out to provide the vocals for “Safe From Harm” and “Unfinished Sympathy” from the Sliver soundtrack.

I like electronic music, but I’m more into Venetian Snares and Squarepusher; the kind of shit that makes me feel like I’m having an anxiety attack and that my heart’s gonna explode.  Needless to say, Kim‘s not as into that shit so much.  I also love Daedelus, Four Tet, Crystal Castles, Aphex Twin, CEX, Ratatat, Kraftwerk, …  Truthfully, I like a lot of electronic music, but I guess I’m just not that into the trip-hop.  Then again, I also love DJ KRUSH‘, DJ Shadow, Funki Porcini, and pretty much everything that Amon Tobin‘s ever done… so, maybe I’m just not that into Massive Attack.  Massive Attack doesn’t create straight-up house music, happy hardcore, or any of the other type of techno shit that I typically can’t handle, but they also didn’t provide enough of a range for me in their sound.  It didn’t feel as much like a concert to me as it did a presentation; a little too clean… a little too sterile.  Plus, it was hard to get over the preachiness of the messaging being stacked over the generally shallow lyrical content of contrived love songs.  The contradictions didn’t seem to be as evident to the people around me but, when you have such an expensive and over the top production for your shows, it’s hard for me to listen to you speak for the every man.  For their final performance of the night, they had corporate logos rapidly flashing across the LCD screen, as if to say, “Down with the man!  Down with capitalism!“  A couple of companies that were noticeably absent?  Ticketmaster and Live Nation.  I’m not saying that they should have gone out of their way to attack the company that’s paying them but, it’s hard to believe that they weren’t intentionally not included.  If you want to try and act hardcore, then do it for real.  I remember reading an article about a year or 2 ago, where  DEVO was actually paid to appear at some sort of Apple computer conference and they went all out.  Dressed as Booji Boy, Mark Mothersbaugh warned everyone about the dangers of computers and encouraged them to throw their laptops out of the window.  Massive Attack‘s imagery spun like a slot machine and ended with a BP logo that read “Beyond Petroleum“.  The self-important crowd cheered and the lights went up.  As everyone scattered, I looked down at the floor to see endless wrappers, DOMINOS pizza boxes, Coke-a-Cola cups, and crushed Coors-Light cans strewn everywhere.  Yep, we really changed the world that night… we really did something.  Take that America.

A Tortoise song came on the soundsystem and I thought about how amazing it would have been to see them that night.  We walked past the Booka Shade crowd, again too tired to catch the late night set.  It had been a long day and it was nice to lay down and relax in the tent.  I could hear someone who was camping next to us throwing their own little dance party.  I went to sleep with a smile on my face, listening to Mark Morrison‘s Return of the Mack.