Australia has given birth to longstanding musical influences like Nick Cave and AC/DC, as well as such dated and short-lived commercial outbreaks as Men At Work.  As a Westerner, however, it feels as one of two commonalities have regularly presented themselves, over the last two decades, in regards to what has yielded the most prominent promotion from the country to us here overseas.  First, there was the young band phenomena of the early Nineties, with teenage acts like SilverChair and Ben Lee‘s first vehicle, Noise Addict, garnering attention after winning Australian talent competitions and being spring-boarded into the international public eye.  Then, beginning in the early 2000‘s, Aussie groups like Wolfmother and Jet adopted the heavier and more straight-forward, distorted, and driving sounds of Seventies classic rock, that gained prominence throughout the new millennium.  Depending on who you ask or what source you get your information from, the latest exports from “the land down under”, TAME IMPALA, might be described as falling under either one -or even both- of those categories.  That is, of course, unless you ask the members of the group themselves.   The truth is that TAME IMPALA is, arguably, better than any of the acts that were spawned from either the teen or throwback hypes of the last twenty years and, if their recent performance in Seattle is any indication of their capabilities and versatility as artists, they may even find themselves falling into the category of longstanding musical influences, as well.

The name “TAME IMPALA” has been slowly gaining traction over the last few years, but a lot of the information available for them is often conflicting.  It’s been stated that the group first garnered recognition through their Myspace account and that they are extremely young musicians who were, subsequently, caught in the middle of a bidding war.   Other information claims that the group was started back in 1999 by frontman, Kevin Parker and current guitarist/synth-player, Dom Simper, who were only 13 at the time; making them approximately 24 or 25, now (not quite as young as is often implied).   I’ve also read that the original name of the group was the DEE DEE DUMS, under which “they” both placed 2nd at AmpFest and 3rd in the state final of The Next Big Thing in 2005.  Don’t forget the information about how Parker is an obsessive control freak that manned all of the instruments and recorded all of the “group’s” critically-acclaimed self-titled debut EP all by himself, or even the simple fact that the album was self-titled, at all (it is often misguidedly referred to as “Antares, Mira, Sun” due to the labeled drawing of an astrological diagram as the cover art).  The truth is that the DEE DEE DUMS were some form of pseudo-swing/jazz duo that featured Parker on drums and a guy by the name of Luke Epstein on guitar, until Epstein left and Parker switched positions to allow for Sam Devenport to take over on drums.  The current lineup doesn’t feature either Epstein or Devenport and, with Simper never even being listed as a member of the DEE DEE DUMS, it hardly makes sense to claim that the duo were even an incarnation of the same group or that TAME IMPALA, in the typical sense of a “group” with Parker and Simper, was formed a full 12 years ago.

From a marketing standpoint, there is a certain logic in retaining the accolades received from his last project but, by all accounts, TAME IMPALA isn’t even a band in the typical sense.  The name, more or less, just represents Parker‘s ongoing solo project and home recordings that he had written and arranged by himself.  Simper is a longtime friend whom Parker had worked with independently since they were young and, after meeting drummer Jay “Gumby” Watson, he was added into the folds as a third member around 2007.  As the hype increased and the EP was getting critical praise, reaching #1 on the Australian Independent Record (A.I.R.) charts, IMPALA began performing live as a trio with Simper on bass.  Opening slots for groups like MGMT, The Black Keys, and Yeasayer helped further increase their profile and last year the first TAME IMPALA full-length, INNER SPEAKER was released to further critical praise.  Parker was still running the show but, this time around, Simper and Watson both contributed by making scattered appearances on the recording throughout.

I didn’t really start paying serious attention to the TAME IMPALA hype until I began hearing rave review about their live performance after the last -and the first- time that they played in Seattle.  From there, I made time to listen to INNER SPEAKER and, while sources like ALL MUSIC make the claim that “their sound was pure late ’60s, but wasn’t the sound of any specific band from the era,” I don’t entirely agree with that assessment.  The album immediately sounded like the current-day Swedish psych-outfit, DUNGEN, to me; only it was coupled with the vocal delivery from the more psychedelic offerings in The BEATLES catalog.  I’m sure that most reviewers are easily comparing Parker‘s processed vocals to that of John Lennon‘s, but the first song that sprung to mind for me was the McCartney-penned, “Paperback Writer“.  The Lennon comparison is unavoidable.   The DUNGEN comparison is equally as apt, yet much more avoidable, only because they are far less recognizable (The Beatles have sold over 1.6 billion records).  Somewhat loosening his grip on the reins, Parker agreed to hand the mixing duties over to the one person that he felt would truly be able to reinforce his vision: Mercury Rev bassist/neo-psych super producer, Dave Fridman (Flaming Lips, MGMT, Mercury Rev, BMSR, Mogwai, Sparklehorse, etc.).  This combination of elements worked to create a surprisingly cohesive sound on Innerspeaker that is expansive and airy, but with melodic elements and moments of heavy driving distortion.  It was an impressive debut and one that prompted me to want to experience them live.  However, the live version of the band that I was about to see is considered -at least, by it’s members- to be a very different entity than the recording “band” altogether.

TAME IMPALA

Neumos

Seattle, Wa

April 22, 2011

After YUCK left the stage (see review here) and we waited for the headliners to come out, I looked around at the all-ages crowd.  The opener’s were a full decade younger than me and their audience, unquestionably, surpassed that gap.  I was up towards the front of the crowd and, although there was a solid turnout for the SOLD OUT show, it wasn’t that tightly packed.  As I reached over to touch the belly of my pregnant lady, who was standing off to the side, I felt a girl try to work her shoulder around the front of me to block my view.  That wasn’t gonna happen, so I worked my arm back around, both preventing access and making sure to expose my camera and pass/wristband in the process.  That shit actually works, because there’s a trigger in most people’s brains that is activated, where all of that ridiculous brainwashing with ideas of “celebrity” and “connections” and “authority” and “passes” and “importance”, still exist.  “What are you taking pictures for?” she asked interestedly.  I was pretty cold, perhaps more than necessary.  “So that I can see the show later.  So that I can look at images and remember what it looked like.“  “No, I mean who are you taking pictures for?“  Great, now I’m talking to my “new friend” the young girl at the show, while my pregnant girlfriend stands off to the side watching and, most likely, burning holes through the back of my head.  Somehow the topic of the “all ages” crowd came up immediately and the girl proceeded to mention how “weird” it was for her to not be drinking at Neumos (you can’t drink on the All Ages floor) because she is old enough to drink and how she is “usually” drinking there and… basically, she can drink!  She’s old enough… she likes drinking at shows!  I got it.  I’m sure that’s true, but she only looked barely old enough to legally drink at all and, if it was really even a topic that mattered to her, I’m sure that was exactly the case.  I thought about how lucky she was that she wasn’t talking to a date-rapey cat with a flask in his pocket and a willingness to exaggerate their position in “journalism.”  I usually find it a lot more rewarding to simply work the angle of simulating that creepy vibe, both as a potential warning and as a source of momentary amusement for myself.  Instead, I simply cut the topic short by saying, “I don’t really drink that much anymore, especially since she’s pregnant now” and I pointed to Kim.  The conversation began to die out at that point and Kevin Parker walked out onto the stage.

Parker‘s appearance didn’t mark the kick-off of their set; he entered alone, taking a hands on approach and checking the entire stage setup personally.  From his own guitar and pedals to the drum kit, he went one by one checking the sound, levels, and their responsiveness to a projector and screen set up in the back of the stage.  It wasn’t an elaborate stage show, but a simple projection that would vary from a  little glowing green dot to vibrating rings to chaotic squiggles, depending on the the volume and shifts in audio.  The frontman sat at the drums, cracking the snare and looking behind him as the dot stretched and morphed into a slanted oval.  The program was little more than a simpler version of the the visuals that come with a Windows Media Player.  He left the stage and returned with the rest of the members.  The band hand grown from a trio into a 4-piece.

Kevin stood shoeless behind a selection of pedals on the left side of the stage.  The lanky, “Gumby” Watson sat at his kit in the back; also shoeless.  Between them was the waif, Nick “Paisley Adams” Allbrook, taking over the bass duties for Dominic Simper, who was positioned on the far right, holding a guitar with a synthesizer behind him.

Once everyone got into position, they eased into the song “Why Won’t You Make Up Your Mind“.  Even on the album, that track has a full minute of instrumentation before any lyrics kick in, so it was a solid choice to pull the set slowly off of the ground.  Now that the they were soaring lightly through a cloudy troposphere of psychedelia, they followed it up with the same song that follows chronologically on Innerspeaker, “Solitude is Bliss.”  It begins as a more straight ahead start/stop rock tune, but about two-thirds of the way through, the leash is dropped to allow it to take off into more adventurous experimentation, before stopping altogether and re-entering with a dreamy psych-jazz ending.

Tame Impala may technically be the project of one guy, but the recordings feature some deceivingly intricate interweaving of sound.  I appreciate complexities in music from YES and King Crimson style Prog-Rock to Miles and Ornette Coleman freak-jazz, insane Venetian Snares and Squarepusher IDM/Drill n Bass, and Zappa‘s schizophrenically structured compositions, but the complexities of Parker‘s work are assembled somewhat differently.  While a lot of elaborately structured pieces expose their cards with such elements as obvious switches in time signature and through exploring a labyrinth of channels, Tame Impala songs have pieces that overlap and meld into each other, bleeding into unified sonic waves, that build and recede like tides and transition as if they were crashing out onto the shore.  There’s a life to the Tame Impala recordings that becomes even more impressive when you consider that the psyched-out jam sections are, for the most part, simply Parker jamming out with himself, one singular channel at a time.  For the live show, my interests revolved more around if the group would be able to adhere the sound collages from the albums together so effortlessly.  In the same way that Parker has managed to create recordings that make him sound as if he were multiple contributors, I wanted to see if the other 3 could synchronize enough with him to unify into that trademark deep-water audio beast and allow it to swim like it does on the albums.  When they kicked into Innerspeaker‘s lead-off track “It’s Not Meant to Be” next, that question was answered successfully.

Unlike such masterminds as Frank Zappa, who would meticulously instruct his backing band like an orchestra conductor, there is nothing in Tame Impala‘s live show that reflects any real direction and control from Parker over the other members.  This feeds right into their statements about Tame Impala only being a band in the live sense, while the recorded versions stem from nothing anywhere close to a bunch of guys jamming out together in a room.  When they are on stage together in their live incarnation, they ride that line of being a very tight band and being completely free and exploratory individual musicians.  It felt like a “band” and the members were all very present; no one was phoning it in.  “Alter Ego” is a steadily advancing number that really accentuated that fact, allowing the rhythm section to truly showcase their abilities.  Sitting behind his kit in his baggy T-shirt and shaggy mop, Watson had a relaxed but fluidly agile attack on the drums, as he aggressively smashed the shit out of the heads, while looking like a 15 year old skateboarder.  Albrook‘s Hofner bass did little to distance the group from the BEATLES comparisons, but his ability to slide the low-end around like playing Q-Bert on a Nordic Track that’s resting on shifting tectonic plates, wasn’t only noticeable, but impressive as well.

Both this track and the followup of their hit, “Expectation” incorporated synth sounds, before the music stopped and the stage went almost entirely dark.  There wasn’t much light at the front of the stage to begin with, but now the only light seemed to come from the projection in the back.  Parker squatted down and began tweaking sound to interact with and bring focus to the screen.  They then segued it into a 6-minute version of “Desire Be, Desire Go“, the one song that appears on both the EP and the Full-Length.  At this point, I was trying to film the song with one hand, while trying to snap photos with my other.

Click here to view the embedded video.

“Jeremy’s Storm” came next and is a track that begins with a very DUNGEN-esque folk-style guitar intro that builds slowly, adding piece by piece and fattening the sound.  There are plenty of soaring moments and gentle free-falls, as well as dark distorted ascensions up a jagged thunder-stricken crag.  The instrumental also showcases a good deal of electronic contributions from both Parker and Simper.  It was about this time that Parker broke it to the audience that they would not be doing an encore that night, because they feel that encore’s are “lame“.  So, after tearing through “Lucidity” and “Runaway Houses City Clouds” they finished the set off with two songs from the self-titled EP.  Beginning with “Skeleton Tiger” they effortless jammed into the track “Half Full Glass of Wine” and it was definitely one of the finest moments of the night.  Being less familiar with the EP, I wasn’t as aware of when the songs switched up, but that’s probably the greatest result that their efforts could have brought.  With swirling mosaics of sound, there was even a part where everything seemed to freeze in mid-air.  The music actually stopped and, although the halt was issued abruptly, it felt more as if the audio was momentarily floating like a tai-chi orb, rather than being cut instantly.  When the sound re-entered, it was almost like the silence had been sucked back out of the room like a vacuum in reverse.  It was as if the guys were giving us a sneak preview of some tricks that they had been working on and their inevitable directional growth for the future.  That ending 2-song block was full of free-for-all improvisation with Watson taking full advantage of the open drum solo in “Half Full“.  After that, it was over.  If some people were still expecting an encore, it was pretty clear that it wasn’t gonna go down.

Unlike my feelings about the openers, YUCK, I feel that Parker has managed to actually find and exhibit his own unique voice through Tame Impala, despite any influences or similarities his sound might bear with any of his predecessors.  There is a focus on using older, more analog equipment in his work, but everything comes through as honest and his own sound isn’t completely drowned out by the nostalgia.  Everything feels natural and nothing seems forced.  Whereas the kids from YUCK were fully dressed in throwback gear and emulating various groups that existed just prior to and/or just after their births, Tame Impala doesn’t seem overly concerned with either appearance or with distinct imitation.  They’d rather shake the comparisons than to embrace them.  They’d rather create music, than become a tribute vessel.  Admittedly, these kids look incredibly young, but it’s a factor that actually works in their favor.  At this point, all 4 members have already been involved in serious musical endeavors for years.  Not only does this add to their technical abilities, but it’s also a testament to the fact that the music and musical exploration is their primary focus.  One of the most impressive things that I noticed during the show was when Parker would maintain and control his seamless introduction and transition of effects by tweaking and turning the pedal knobs with his toes.  Not only are the bare feet more of a necessity than a gimmick, but the numerous effects that he’s operating with them are being incorporated tastefully to build on the overall sound, more than to create a gimmicky moment of focused noise that overshadows the rest of the compositions.

Tame Impala might be a solid enough name for the recorded efforts of Kevin Parker, with it’s restrained beacon-like focuses mixed with wild frenzied and scattered sound.  Then again, maybe it’s a terrible name all around.  Through the various interviews that I’ve seen or read, however, I’ve come to realize that an Impala isn’t a very common term in Australia.  Every interviewer seems to ask the guys the same question, “What’s an Impala?” and the answer usually comes with the added information that everyone is even less familiar with the Chevy than they are the animal.  Whatever the case, the live incarnation of the band is much more comparable to that of an electric dolphin, diving and weaving with aerial maneuvers and oceanic depth.  There’s a reason for the tight mesh that the band seems to have formed between each other; this isn’t “their” only group.  Technically, Kevin was just grabbing up members to help him support a tour of songs that he had crafted by himself, but he didn’t just grab them from anywhere.  What I’m saying is that, they aren’t simply studio musicians.  In fact, Nick and Kevin have another fairly intense psychedelic group called Mink Mussel Creek that features Parker on drums, while Allbrook plays guitar and sings.  Furthermore, Parker has become the latest permanent drummer -and impressively so- for a fellow Perth, Australia group called Pond, which again features Nick Allbrook on vocals, but with Jay Watson on guitar.  These guys are much more of a collective than anything and, as any of them will openly admit to you, Tame Impala is just a collection of Kevin‘s songs and just happens to be the project that got picked up.  This is another similarity that Tame Impala shares with DUNGEN, who originated and is primarily controlled as a project of multi-instrumentalist/frontman Gustav Ejstes.  To unnecessarily compare the Australians to their Swedish counterparts, I would have to say that they don’t quite have the versatility of DUNGEN quite yet, but their live show is still solid and, with that final display of Skeleton/Half Full, they definitely have the chops to get somewhere as equally impressive in time.  At such an early point in their careers, the members of Tame Impala are already incredibly dangerous and, with their technical and production abilities, they should have complete control over which direction they choose to take these talents.

As stated earlier, I immediately liked the Innerspeaker when I first heard it, but I did ask myself why these kids are getting so much hype right now when they immediately draw such obvious comparisons to DUNGEN, a band that seems to have been all but overlooked in recent years.  Then I remembered that the answer to that question -beyond the fact that they sing in Swedish- deals with Gustav‘s disinterest and lack of motivation for feeding into the predetermined system laid out for him by the industry.  After the popularity of his album, Ta De Lungt flung them into the international limelight in 2004, followed by extensive touring, he was spent.  When they returned with the follow up Tio Bitar (3 years later) he didn’t support it with the “proper” tours or continue or even care to deal with press or media attention.  Instead, he disappeared for a while on his parents estate.  He dealt with his own personal life and when the album 4 was released in 2008, it further eschewed much of the garage rock/psych vibe from his previous efforts and began to expand on his penchant for piano-focused jazz infused compositions.  Ejstes lost many with his new direction and has still yet to regain that hype that was built with that break out release.  I wasn’t one of them.  I still love all of the DUNGEN releases and appreciate the constant expansion and risks they take in their sound.  Plus, they are one of the most solid and consistent live acts that I’ve ever seen.  I believe that Tame Impala could have a similar growth.  I don’t see any signs of these guys slowing down or of Parker ceasing to create music.  It seems to be ingrained in who they are as people.  I can, however, see him returning with a Tame Impala album that takes a new direction that might not meet the expectations that people have set for him.  Remember, they gained much of their hype while opening for MGMT, a band who both instantly sprung to fame with their Fridmann-produced debut, only to lose fans and critics alike with their impressively ambitious sophomore effort.  I guess that my point is, although I feel completely sure that Parker is focused on the music, I’m not so sure that he’s overly focused on the industry.  As far as this collective of Perth musicians are concerned, on the other hand, I’m interested to see what comes out of it, regardless of whatever name is plastered across the front of the work that they produce.  They seem to be enjoying themselves and worrying about the one thing that they should be focused on, creating music.  Parker has spoken openly about the fact that he has already put a lot of work into crafting the sequel to Innerspeaker and that he intends to release it later this year.  I’m curious to see what kind of new directions in sound that it will yield but, even if these Australians never release another commercially successful effort again, the idea of them ending their run with a hit track entitled, “Expectation” might be worth the irony.

DUNGEN

DUNGEN guitarist, Reine Fiske came out to begin moving equipment and was followed shortly by Mattias and drummer, Johan Holmegard.  Since DUNGEN‘s inception, Gustav Ejstes has been the primary force behind everything; arranging, writing, and manning the majority of the instruments on all 6 of his albums.  Fiske has been a major contributor since the first release and, in recent years, Ejstes has been able to reduce nearly all of his drum work by passing duties over to Holmegard.  Regardless of the quartet having solidified as much more of a formal “band” these days, Ejstes still performs a total of 8 different instruments on their brand new release, Skit i Allt (meaning: “Fuck All”) and continues to switch it up a bit in the live format.  Prior to making his entrance, a small upright piano was brought out and placed on the stage for the vocalist.  Yep… the setup was beginning to give me a bit of a flashback to last year and this was a good thing.  We tried to hype the fuck out of this performance and, although the crowd wasn’t at the capacity that these skilled musicians warranted, I could easily locate individuals whom I personally made the suggestion to.  Now it was DUNGEN‘s turn to make good on the promises that I had made for them.

When Gustav finally appeared, he humbly spoke into the mic, “I’m so nervous. I don’t know why.” He clarified that by explaining that it went “so well” the last time that they were in Seattle. Ejstes was wearing a Fleet Foxes T-Shirt, representing their past tour mates/local friends who had made an appearance with them on stage during that previous performance.  He made a point to give a shout out to Mattias Gustavsson‘s mom, who was in attendance, and then made a subtle yet comical statement about how attractive she was.  After his brief greeting, the rest of the band was ready, so he sat down at the keys and they instantly tore into the song “Vara Snabb“.

“Vara Snabb” is also the opening track for Skit i Allt.   I had the opportunity to listen to the new release for a week or so prior to the show and, while it didn’t pull me in as immediately as some of their past efforts, I was really anxious to see how the new tracks would come across live.  My conclusion was instantly favorable and the Swedes sounded as amazing as I had remembered them.  Like many Americans, my first exposure to DUNGEN came via their breakout third album, Ta Det Lugnt.   A friend had lent me the CD and, only after having it in my possession for weeks, I finally decided to check it out.  “Panda“, the first cut, had fragrant and infectious harmonies soldered into a powerful whirlwind of garage/psych rock grime that reached in and hooked me like a noodled catfish.  Ejstes‘ compositions have always showcased a great deal of range throughout all of his releases, but many of those who were drawn in by the heavier, psychedelically chaotic moments have been unable to adapt to the more recent releases.  The 2008 album, 4 seemed to retain a higher percentage of jazz and folk heavy numbers and, now with Skit i Allt, the group continues to explore those territories even further.  I have a feeling that this new release may reduce the group’s following even further, but it’s actually a really solid effort throughout.   As a whole, Skit i Allt transports the listener to picnics in sepia-toned spring fields, with majestic crows swirling on cannabis and lilac tinctured breezes.  It’s less napalm and more grainy super-8 afternoons swimming at the quarry in cut offs.  Don’t get me wrong, it does have it’s moments of brush fires and/or the sudden collapse of a wood-rotted barn, but they pull back the reins on the rusty, carnival ride banshee screeches and crank up the whimsical pixie vibe a few notches.  Out of the dungeon and into the dungen (aka: “the grove”), if you will.  More glen and less Glenn.  Whereas tracks like “Intro” (Tio Bitar) took grisly off-road treks through hellish landscapes, while incorporating the occasional pit stop at a gentle brook, Skit i Alt continues to demonstrate DUNGEN‘s ability to craft equally tremendous compositions when they invert that formula.

Ejstes and his minions hit the ground running and it was evident that even those who had yet to hear the new album were already being swallowed up by the set opener like plankton.  “Vara Snabb” sounded so smooth that it was surprising to hear Fiske make a side comment about them having problems during the song.  They followed it with the shrieking feedback and crushing distortion of “Bortglomd” (Ta Det Lugnt) and the ominous sailboat ride of “Mina Damer Och Fasaner” (4) before returning to another new track, “Barnen Undrar“.   Within the first 3 songs, Gustav had already pulverized his piano keys, manned an acoustic guitar, and gently coaxed apparitions from his flute.  He would often shift from supplying vocals from behind his piano bench to leaping onto his feet, stomping around and laying into his tambourine like it forgot the words to an Ike Turner song.

For someone who carefully crafts his compositions to be content with simply dancing around with a percussive instrument at times, displays a great deal of confidence in his “backing” band, but these guys are no joke and are extremely accomplished musicians in their own right.  Johan Holmegard drums with mind-boggling precision, without sacrificing any power or ferocity.  As for Reine Fiske‘s guitar work, his abilities were as puzzling to me as ever, and I was standing right in front of him the entire show.   In groups where everyone is this equally skilled (as with Zeppelin, Phish, Rush, etc) each of the members almost seem to take on their own individual superhero-like persona. Fiske creates feedback and distortion that are inherently chaotic in nature, but then manages to direct them at will, as if wielding a haunted scythe.  Holmegard forms cracks in the Earth, while, Mattias Gustavvson supplies pulsating tremors and Fiske hovers in the eye of his own self-created tornado.   DUNGEN has the ability to venture into areas of undeniable beauty, but it just as often felt as if they were summoning a kraken and controlling it with a shock collar.

They continued the show by alternating back and forth between tracks from Ta Det Lugnt and 4.   They went from “Festival” into the song “Bandhagen“, which Gustav mentioned was about a town in Sweden where he once lived.  Then came “Sluta Folja Efter“, “Fredag“, and “Panda“.   This is the portion of the show where the band really started to hit some uneven tread.

FREDAG

Click here to view the embedded video.

I found this video footage of “Fredag” [above] from a member on Youtube and, although I’m sure that its washed-out graininess wasn’t created by design, it does offer a somewhat fitting aesthetic, along with some nice audio and insight into what was happening at the show.  If you keep your eyes on Reine Fiske [left], you’ll notice that he’s having some issues with his equipment.  It’s not uncommon for him to face his amp throughout the show, but this time it wasn’t so much done to create feedback as it was to figure out what the fuck was going on.  Beyond just tweaking knobs, this is also the point where he broke one of his guitar strings.  Unless you are incredibly familiar with the tune, however, you may not even notice any issues if you were to listen to the audio alone.

“Panda” was the first time that their sound was substantially effected by the technical difficulties that the group and, more specifically, Reine Fiske were experiencing.  When Holmegard pounded out the opening drum intro, Gustav humorously directed him to stretch it out longer and longer, while Fiske attempted to slap on a new string and pull his equipment problems together.  Once the song was in full swing, however, there were noticeable crunches of distortion, along with abrupt dropouts and blaring surges in the audio.  The next two songs, “Blandband” and “Marken Lag Stilla“, were new tracks from Skit i Allt.  Fiske‘s amp didn’t sound like it was at risk of blowing out anymore, but I could sense his frustration as he encountered issues like unplugging the chord from his pedals with his own foot.  There was a bit of a delay when they decided to kick into the title track from Ta Det Lugnt.  I’m not sure of the exact issue but, as Gustav grabbed his electric guitar and they tried to deal with whatever was holding them back, Holmegard did his best to kill time.  He grabbed the mic and explained that this was the point in the show where he should tell jokes to fill in any downtime and that he would, but didn’t know any.

Everyone left the stage but Gustav returned shortly after for a solo piano version of “Det Tar Tid“.  He finished the song off with a little beat box and the subsequent statement, “all that scratching is making me itch” before joining the rest of his pals backstage.  It wasn’t long before the whole band returned and took their individual positions for the encore.  Ejstes gave props to his cohorts’ musical proficiency and indispensable contributions by joking that he just plays the tambourine.  As Reine strapped on his guitar, he spoke into the mic, “We just had a fight, so this is the last song“.  Ejstes responded immediately with, “But we made up” and then began smashing away at his keys as they entered into “Hogdalstoppen“.  This song features what are easily the most unwieldy and aggressively demonic moments on the new album.  For their live rendition, they decided to take it up yet another notch but, right in the middle of the unadulterated full-on chaos, something went wrong.  I’m not sure if Reine broke another string, if his pedals came unplugged again, or what happened, but he was definitely pissed off and he definitely showed it.  He yanked off his guitar, slammed it down on the ground, smacked a drink off of Ejstes‘ piano, and then stormed off the stage.  The show was over.  The rest of the band smiled cordially and waved goodbye, with Ejstes even returning later to greet folks in the dispersing crowd.

A DUNGEN show is not unlike modifying a giant hang-glider into a stunt kite, strapping it to a venue, and then pushing it off of a cliff.  There are enthralling nose dives, drastic ascensions, tranquil soars, sharp turns, plummeting drops, and plenty of tail-spins.  This particular show encountered some additional turbulence, but who gives a fuck?  It was still packed tight with enough jaw dropping moments for me to consider it a successful evening.  I’m sure that Fiske might disagree, but I’m also sure that the majority of the crowd had no idea that there were any issues at all until he slammed that fucking guitar into the stage.  His frustration only demonstrates the very passion that infuses the group with their drive and potency in the first place.  Regardless of their generally light-hearted attitudes, they take their crafts incredibly seriously.  After one especially intense jam, Gustav calmly segued into telling the audience that he had visited the hotdog stand across the street by stating that he had eaten “A sausage… or, a wiener… a piece of meat.“  He then put focus on the cultural differences by adding that he had “remembered to tip” this time.  DUNGEN‘s appeal comes from this dichotomy of jovial pleasure and therapeutic angst… exotic uncharted landscapes and musty nostalgia… time release Adderall and handfuls of Soma…  comfort and anxiety.  One minute you’re on a relaxing canoe ride and the next thing you know, you realize that you’re strapped to a torpedo.  They have the skills, work ethic, and confidence, but without any of the gimmicky bullshit or pretentious attitudes of bands that believe their own hype.  Perhaps it’s just my own cultural misinterpretation, but DUNGEN seems to maintain the perfect balance of really giving a fuck and really NOT giving a fuck.

And the new album?  It’s good and the songs that they performed blended in with their older material fairly seamlessly.  Skit i Allt doesn’t really have that one huge powerhouse track of a “Panda“, instantly knocking me across the chops with it’s vicious paw the first time through.  It’s more subtle than that and the more that I listen to it, the more that it grows and the intricacies pronounce themselves.  These guys aren’t just an ultra-precise prog band, relying  on 38 minute technical compositions or even a stoner metal group consisting strictly on fat droned-out chords.  Instead, they often find themselves somewhere in between.  DUNGEN has a tendency to move from genre to genre on an album and even within the same song.  Their new release is a little bit different.  It’s definitely its own entity, but it works much better when it’s simply viewed as one singular component in their catalog.  Remember, these guys are already 6 albums deep and it feels as though Ejstes is approaching his compositions with a much broader view at this point.  I believe that many people will miss some of the intense fluctuations, which were demonstrated so prominently throughout the earlier releases, but it feels ironic to view any new change in direction as an enemy of diversity.  It’s all about how close you want to focus your microscope, but when you pan out and view the larger picture of DUNGEN‘s career and their development as a whole, I find that Skit i Allt will prove a solid addition to the quartet’s legacy.  It’s similar to the way that their setlist is composed of various songs from different time periods, but they work together to create one complete show, or even how the sum of the parts overshadowed any gaps or missteps throughout the night.  For now, I’m content enough with the acknowledgment that DUNGEN is still going strong and that what they are creating now is only sewing the seeds for and in preparation of the future.

Last years’ show took place on the exact same stage and, based on the quality of that display, anyone that was in attendance couldn’t be blamed for expecting that DUNGEN would have sold out this followup Seattle performance and in a larger venue, no less.  I may have assumed something similar, had my friend Josh not already expressed shock about last years show not being packed, after being blown away by them a year earlier.  He thought that they would have reached some sort of “Zeppelin status” by then, and deservedly so, but there didn’t seem to be too much of a risk of the show selling out on this Sunday night.  Further reflecting on last years show, I knew that we should still try to arrive somewhat early.  That show had featured a unusually solid lineup and introduced me to the incredible Brooklyn lo-fi folk outfit WOODS, so I was curious to see what tonight’s opener, The Entrance Band had to offer.

Doors were at 8pm.  We showed up at 9 and the main entrance and will call window were closed off.   Ticket holders were instructed to enter through the attached MOE Bar, which was the first sign that they weren’t expecting an overwhelming turnout.  Sign number two was that the entire upper bar/balcony section was completely closed off.  When we walked through to the stage, we were the only people in the place that were not staff.  We looked at the merch booth for a minute, which had suffered a vinyl shortage do to a shipping error, and then headed back to the bar to get a drink.  I was worried that it was starting to get late and the show hadn’t started, but then I saw DUNGEN bassist, Mattias Gustavsson walk past our booth with a pair of older Swedish women and I figured that we still had some time to kill.  Even more time past but, eventually, we did hear some music coming from down the hall.  The Entrance Band had started.

THE ENTRANCE BAND

The Los Angeles 3-piece, formed by Guy “Entrance” Blakeslee, wasn’t performing to a particularly large or active crowd, but that didn’t seem to affect them in the slightest.  The trio was arranged with Blakeslee and bassist, Paz Lenchantin on corresponding sides of the stage, while psychedelic circular projections of light rippled outwards from center stage at the drum kit of Derek James.  Much of the time, the southpaw guitarist remained just outside of the light-beam’s range, howling in the shadow and playing a right-handed Fender strung in reverse.  Although the light show’s alignment was slightly amiss, I’m sure that the “upside down” Jimi Hendrix-style axe routine that Guy had going was purely intentional.  Beyond the simple fact that he’s created a power-trio, Blakeslee‘s wild, electric distorted squeals screamed “The Experience!“, not to mention his antics of playing on his knees and falling to his back.

Lenchantin was wearing a dangerously short black and white Laugh-In-era-Gold Hawn shift dress and aggressively manhandling her bass.  The bassist was shoeless and rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.  She remained in that balancing groove throughout the show, at one point even climbing onto her bass amp.  Although Paz is a former member of the short-lived ZWAN;  temporarily enabling Billy Corgan‘s insatiable fetish for female bass accompaniment (along w/D’arcy Wretzky, Melissa Auf der Maur, Ginger Pooley, and Nicole Fiorentino), it didn’t take long to realize that Paz was much more than simply filling some gimmicky role of token bassist with vagina.  In fact, she is actually ridiculously good.  I play bass and I love music, so two things that irritate the fuck out of me are terrible unoriginal bass players that contribute nothing and corny gimmicks devoid of substance.  Lenchantin doesn’t, by any means, hide in the background. Her work is complex and inspired, but merges seamlessly with her other band members; broadening the sound, rather than detracting from it.  She easily stole the show during the set and her love of performing was palpable.  The multi-instrumentalist was also an original member of A Perfect Circle (strings, piano, acoustic guitar) and has even contributed to albums like Songs for the Deaf (strings) by Queens of the Stone Age and Silver Jews‘ Tanglewood Numbers (fiddle).  She’s been on larger stages than this one; they all have, but The Entrance Band was still going pretty hard at this half empty Seattle club.  With Blakeslee‘s habit of standing on one leg as he sings and Lenchantin‘s tip-toe balancing act, the trio resembled a pair of high-voltage lawn flamingos being backed by a bulldozer.

Derek James‘ hair hung in his face while he focused on applying a whoopin’ to his kit.  The songs essentially consisted of the drummer chiseling out a beat and the other two members laying swirling, hovering grooves over it and jamming the fuck out.  I’m not familiar with their recorded material, but I would wager that The Entrance Band is a group whose strength is their live show.  They play well together and were able to really get their extended psych rock jams off of the ground and transport them into interesting directions without stumbling.  During his recent production work for Neil Young, Daniel Lanois spoke of his belief that new sounds are still available for creation andof the misguided tendency for “artists” to rely on the past for their sound.  Blakeslee‘s group is definitely guilty of siphoning ideas for his 70‘s rock revival sound and I find it hard to believe that anyone could hear him play guitar without instantly noticing his admiration for Jimi Hendrix.  It’s a slippery slope but, even with the obvious cliches, I feel that the trio somehow avoids the ultra-contrived end result and traps that I feel groups like Wolfmother have fallen into.  Maybe it’s the rhythm section that the Baltimore transplant has working with him these days.  Whatever it is, ENTRANCE has assembled something that, at the very least, works great in a live setting.  There’s no denying that these guys draw heavily from their forefathers but, when they are on stage, they are entirely present, creating for the moment, and it’s tangible.  A lot of this throw back psychedelia shit can easily come across as bad karaoke at a hippie-themed costume party.  When I catch a glimpse of that filth coming, it’s often hard for me to let it go and focus on anything else besides how forced it feels.  Sure, The Entrance Band travels in an old school bus and, if they had nothing else to offer beyond such outdated references and comparisons, then they’d be doomed.  This is not the case and, while it’s next to impossible to completely separate them from their influences, it’s just as difficult not to acknowledge them for what they are: a solid, enjoyable group with a sound of their own, and a terrific live show that’s worth the “entrance” fee.

[CLICK HERE to read part 2]

On Friday July 30th, SPIRITUALIZED played their classic album Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating in Space in it’s entirety at the legendary Radio City Music Hall in New York City.  I wasn’t there.  By the next morning, I had finally accepted that fact and reluctantly headed off to the much less exciting activity of pouring high grade espresso drinks for the people.  I had imagined that, through one ridiculous miracle or another, I would make it out to New York City in time, but the world often has its own mangled vision for your life.  How does that joke go, again?  “How do you make God laugh?  Make a Plan.“  As fate would have it, I wound up meeting someone who lives in the Big Apple that day and getting the opportunity to catch a performance by a band that I’d been meaning to check out for quite some time.

It was Saturday and I was in Seattle, pulling shots from a 3 group Synesso.  I meet a lot of customers who have recently relocated or are simply visiting from out of state, especially since Summer hit.  This is why I wasn’t surprised when a man with a plaid shirt and burly mustache told me that he’d been a barista for 6years in New York, while he asked some questions about the coffee and the machine.  After inquiring about if he’d just moved here, I learned that he was just visiting shortly.  From there it was slowly unveiled that he was playing a show that night and that it was going to be held at The Crocodile.  This man’s name was Jesse and he is the guitarist for a Brooklyn outfit known as PHOSPHORESCENT.  He seemed interested to hear that I’ve had a good deal of communication with their publicist from DEAD OCEANS.  I knew about PHOSHPHORESCENT but, admittedly, not as much as I should have.  I always seemed to receive press releases or information about them with an already full plate.  They had been towards the top of my list of projects to look deeper into for quite some time, but a good part of me knew that I would encounter them eventually through a more organic process.  As Jesse put it, “What we [were] experiencing is the benefit of face to face communication.“  A line had formed, so he wrote down my name and phone number, with an offer to put me on the guest list and to text me with a confirmation.

The name “PHOSPHORESCENT” originated simply as the moniker for a solo recording project by frontman Matthew Houck.  However, after almost 3 years of touring with the current lineup, PHOSPHORESCENT now refers to the collective band as much as anything.  For the 2007 album, Pride, Houck notably manned all of the instruments himself.  By the time that the Willie Nelson tribute album, To Willie was released at the beginning of last year, both the pronouns “he” and “they” became equally interchangeable, in reference to the PHOSPHORESCENT name.  The release was inspired by Nelson‘s own 1977 tribute to songwriter Lefty Frizell, To Lefty From Willie.  Their intention to mirror Nelson‘s original concept is further demonstrated through To Willie‘s similar cover art and by PHOSPHORESCENT adopting the approach of infusing their own distinct sound into the songs that they were covering.  The homage resulted in a personal invitation for the group to perform on Willie‘s XM radio channel as part of his 76th birthday celebration and later as part of Farm Aid 2009.  Their latest release, Here’s to Taking it Easy, not only features the first original material for Hoeck since PRIDE, but it also strongly represents the solid group effort that is behind it.

Besides the show that the full band had set for The Crocodile that night, there was also an in-store performance scheduled for PHOSPHORESCENT the man, that afternoon.  Shortly after our encounter, I took my lunch break and passed Jesse, who was standing outside of the record store where the in-store was scheduled to take place.  I went next store to put in an order at a sandwich shop and then went over to speak with him as I waited.  He told me that he made a call and that my name should be on the guest list without any issue.  Jesse had a bandana hanging out of his back pocket, so I told him about how my friend Cindy Wonderful (Scream Club) once explained to me about the gay “flagging code“.  I told him to be careful, because he might be sending out the message that he likes to have men shit on his chest.  He responded by letting me know that it just meant that he was “in a dangerous gang.”  I walked back into the sandwich joint just in time to hear them call out my name, but when I grabbed my food, I heard a frustrated grumble from a woman behind me.  She was sitting with a man at a table and when I approached her she asked, “You’re Chris, too?“  To which I responded, “Looks like I’m ‘Chris One’, because I’m the one with the sandwich.“  They didn’t seem amused and the man looked away from me irritatedly.  Later that night, I realized that the guy was PHOSPHORESCENT drummer, Chris Marine.

We did get into the show that night, without any issues from the will call.  The opener was J. Tillman (aka: Josh Tillman/aka: the drummer for Fleet Foxes).  Tillman is a fairly prolific local artist, releasing half a dozen full-length albums since 2005, not to mention a couple of EPs and the work that he has produced as a member of Fleet Foxes.  With all of his accomplishments, this would be only the first time that I had ever seen him perform; save the time he sat in as an additional percussionist at last year’s Dungen show.

The songwriter sat at the front of the stage with an acoustic guitar, offering little, if any, communication with the audience beyond his music.  He wore a red plaid shirt and with his beard and long, loosely pulled-back hair, he resembled an alt.folk version of Rob Zombie.  The stage was only gently lit and the stark sound of Tillman‘s guitar merged effortlessly with the deep tone of his voice.  There was an intimate feeling to the set, which reminded me of a time when “singer/songwriter” didn’t hold such a negative connotation.  Tillman‘s music represents a directness and honesty representative of the term, before the likes of Jason Mraz, VH1, and douchebag’s using guitars to mack on chicks at campfires and frat parties got a hold of it.  Those towards the bar in back end of the room continued to talk over the set but, although their chatter could become distracting between songs, Tillman never paused or allowed it to veer him off of his course.  Josh set a great mood for PHOSPHORESCENT‘s heartfelt music, so it is no surprise that he was asked to support them on multiple dates of the tour.  While both acts retain an incredibly earnest quality with their live sets, Tillman provides much less acknowledgment to the fact that there is even an audience watching him.  Instead, it felt as if those of us in the crowd had stumbled into J. Tillman‘s bedroom or personal practice space more than it felt like an organized event at a legitimate concert venue.  I wish that I was familiar enough with his work to identify some of the  tracks by name, but I’m not.  My guess is that at least a few of them were offerings from his upcoming Sept. 14 release Singing Ax ( co-produced by Steve Albini).

The energy was great when PHOSPHORESCENT stepped out through the backstage curtain.  The members all seemed a little buzzed, but with a relaxed enthusiasm; not bumbling incoherence.  From the very beginning they exuded a sense of genuine appreciation just for the opportunity to perform.  Hoeck engaged the audience immediately and started the set off by making the announcement, “This is the first song from the last album.“  The full ensemble is 6 members deep and they were arranged in a manner to fill every corner of the stage.  The drumkit in the back was flanked by Scott Stapleton at the keys and Ricky Ray Jackson‘s pedal steel at opposing sides of the stage.  The three of them formed a makeshift pen, corralling Jesse, Houck, and Jeffrey Bailey (bass) in as they meandered around in their designated areas.  After playing “It’s Hard to be Humble (when you’re from Alabama)” Houck announced that they would now be playing “the second song” from Here’s to Taking it Easy and the group proceeded into “Nothing Was Stolen (Love Me Foolishly)”.

The entire performance felt both casual and genuine.  There was a drunk, middle-aged broad in the crowd who would randomly scream out moderately obnoxious and/or erotic comments towards the stage.  Before the next song she caught Houck off guard by yelling out that they would be playing “the third song” from their recent release.  The front man just laughed to himself and then confirmed it, “This is the third song from the last album“.  The women yelled out a slurred, “I like your style!” to which Houck responded, “I like YOUR style.“  That informality is part of PHOSPHORESCENT‘s live appeal.  It sounds corny as fuck, but Matthew Houck really does sing like he’s slicing himself up the belly and dumping his guts out on the stage.  Whether it’s a perfectly designed sham or not, he still puts on a believably moving performance.  His delivery comes with the wavering  crackles of what can only be emotionally identified as an “honest” sound to his voice.  The band is solid and practiced enough that the front man is able to release his hands from his acoustic, and lay back, floating his vocals over a tightly knit blanket of sound.  Everyone had the chance to demonstrate their value to the collective, whether it came from a calculated opening made for the air-bending manipulation of Jackson‘s pedal steel or from Stapleton instinctually forging his own opportunities to maniacally pulverize the shit out of his keyboard.  If you are already a fan of PHOSPHORESCENT‘s music, you’d be doing your self a disservice by not checking the group out live.  Any connection that you may feel to the recorded material will assuredly be amplified in the concert setting.  Some things just aren’t always as easy to communicate through the filter of a studio.  What we were experiencing was, “the benefit of face to face communication.”

PHOSPHORESCENT is definitely a performance based act with a sound that thrives best in such an intimate live environment.  They were very “present” throughout the show, unlike so many acts I’ve witnessed simply going through the motions.  All of the members seem to play equal parts for each other and equal parts for the audience.  They offered up plenty of new material, knocking down the first 4 songs from Here’s To Taking it Easy consecutively, while mixing in PRIDE-era tracks like “Wolves” and pulling from Willie Nelson tributes like “It’s Not Supposed to be that Way“.  To start off the encore, Houck came out and performed a couple of songs by his lonesome.  One of these tracks was his cover of “Can I Sleep in Your Arms” from the To Willie album.  Although the song appeared on The Red Headed Stranger, it was penned by the recently deceased Hall of Fame songwriter, Hank Cochran (August 2, 1935 – July 15, 2010).  Before playing the song, Houck acknowledged Cochran for his incredible talents and humbly made a “confession” that, through his rendition, he would undoubtedly not be able to do the song justice.  The night ended with the rest of the band returning to accompany him for the last couple of songs.

After the show, Jesse came out into the crowd and he gave me a hug.  I had only just met the guy that afternoon, but he was ridiculously considerate.  Although he had gone out of his way and set everything up for us, he still told me that he felt bad for not texting me to confirm that I knew if we were on the list and that he was afraid that we might not be able to make it.  It’s not like he didn’t have enough shit to deal with, being three weeks deep into a six week tour and having a show to play.  That alone would be enough of a reason for me to want to support his band and, in a way, it actually bleeds over to what I feel their real appeal is as an act.  Everything comes across with an incredible authenticity and appreciation.  It’s clear that the members of PHOSPHORESCENT make music because they love it, but they are also creating with a focused intention of sharing it with others.

Check out this live footage from the show:

“We’ll Be There Soon”

(the 3rd song from the last album)

Click here to view the embedded video.

“It’s Not Supposed To Be That Way”

Click here to view the embedded video.

PHOSPHORESCENT is currently on tour in Europe but can be caught at…

The Treasure Island Music Festival in San Francisco on OCT. 17th
and
CITY ARTS FEST in Seattle on OCT. 21st

Thank you and hello again, everybody.  This week our pop-spotlight song of the week comes from a young Los Angeles, California trio calling themselves WAVVES.  Essentially a project of San Deigo native, Nathan Williams, the first two releases from the lo-fi punk outfit were recorded behind the home of Williams‘ parents, launching the young man into the forefront of America‘s burgeoning Garage Rock resurrection.  For the current incarnation, Williams has recruited the late-Jay Reatard‘s former rhythm section, Stephen Pope (bass) and Billy Hayes (drums).  Together they have released the high-energy 12-track gem, King of the Beach, that all the kids are bopping their heads and tapping their toes along to.  Today our spotlight shines on one particular song from this release and it’s corresponding video, which focuses on extra-terrestrials and skateboarding.  Ladies and gentleman, please enjoy “Post Acid“.

Alright… without all of the Casey Kasem bullshit, I do want to add a bit more information before you actually watch the video.  First off, it was recorded in the Echo Park area of Los Angeles and was filmed by DIY filmmaker, Patrick O’Dell, also known for his short-doc series Epicly Later’d.  Aside from a cameo by aging MTV VJ, John Norris, the alien featured in the video is played by professional skateboarder Kevin “Spanky” Long.  Actually, that’s probably enough for now.

More information after the video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Of the concept, Williams has said:

“I’m glad I finally got to fulfill my dream of ripping off the premise of the movie Encino Man… except we replaced the caveman with a skateboarding alien!“

As for working with Wavves on the project, O’Dell made the following comments

“I love it when a band comes up with something totally bizarre and ambitious rather than shrugging and saying ‘I don’t know, what do you wanna do?’ as they mope around looking cool,“

and…

“I feel like we’ve almost made one of those fan videos where an anonymous person out there cuts up a movie they like and fits it together with a song they like and uploads it to YouTube. This is one of those videos, but the band just happens to star in the movie.“

The still above comes from O’Dell‘s site Epiclylaterd.com.
To view more production images CLICK HERE.

To download the mp3 for “Post Acid” for free, visit Green Label Sound HERE.

WAVVES is currently on tour.  In fact, I’m still pissed about missing their Seattle show on Wednesday, but my head felt like someone threw a brick at it.  They’ve got quite a few more dates ahead of them so, you still probably have a good chance of catching them.  Note: they’ve just added a bunch more dates as the opening act for Phoenix

TOUR DATES

08/27 Victoria, BC Sugar
08/30 Davis, CA Sol Collective
08/31 Visalia, CA Howie and Sons Pizza Parlor
09/04 Los Angeles, CA FYF Fest
09/10 Memphis, TN Hi-Tone *
09/11 St. Louis, MO Billiken *
09/12 Chicago, IL Lincoln Hall *
09/14 Bloomington, IN Rhinos *
09/15 Columbus, OH Skully’s *
09/16 Buffalo, NY Mohawk Place *
09/17 Northampton, MA Pearl Street Nightclub *
09/18 Waltham, MA Brandeis University
09/20 Providence, RI Met Café *
09/21 Brooklyn, NY Music Hall of Williamsburg *
09/24 Kingston, NY 323 Wall Street
09/25 Baltimore, MD Ottobar *
09/27 Washington, DC Rock and Roll Hotel *
09/28 Greensboro, NC Guilford College *
09/29 Charlotte, NC Milestone *
09/30 Atlanta, GA Drunken Unicorn *
10/01 Nashville, TN Exit/In – Next Big Nashville *
10/02 Oxford, MS Proud Larry’s *
10/18 Boston, MA Agganis Arena !
10/20 New York, NY Madison Square Garden $
10/21 Montreal, QC CEPSUM !
10/22 Toronto, ON Ricoh Coliseum !
10/23 Philadelphia, PA Tower Theatre !
10/25 Myrtle Beach, SC House of Blues !
10/26 Orlando, FL House of Blues !
10/27 Miami, FL The Fillmore !
11/06 Austin, TX Fun Fun Fun Fest

$ = w/ Phoenix, Dirty Projectors
! = w/ Phoenix
* = w/ Christmas Island

MiiKE SNOW

To avoid any confusion right off the bat, I think it’s important to clarify that Miike Snow isn’t the name of a man.  It’s actually the name of a Swedish electro-pop trio.  I first became aware of the group, thanks to friend of the site, Sean “Har Mar Superstar” Tillmann, whose personal tweets and Facebook postings expressed an appreciation of their recent self-titled debut.  Much like Har Mar, the trio has managed to gain a solid level of popularity in the UK.  Although Miike Snow are arguably still more recognizable overseas, I believe that, if they aren’t on your radar yet, they will be soon enough.  In fact, Miike Snow isn’t unfamiliar with the concept of “Radar“, because 2/3 of the group actually helped to produce a hit song of the same name for Britney Spears.

I use to be a barista at a place where I was lucky enough to work with someone who had similar musical tastes as myself.  Sometimes, our co-workers didn’t feel as lucky about that situation as we did.  A lot of Silver Jews, Dungen, Pavement, Ween, Tortoise, Talking Heads, Sonic Youth, free jazz, etc, was played during our shifts, but one day Josh brought in the Britney Spears Blackout album and everyone was so pissed off that they lost their minds over it.  Both of us, on the other hand, got really into playing it more and more.  It’s extremely popular to trash pop-stars like Brit Brit, especially at that time, but there was something really intriguing about that album.  Once you get past the ideas of commercialism, shallow marketing tactics, and Total Request Live tweens buying scrunchies at a Claire’s in a Westfield shopping mall, it contained some brilliant layering and production work throughout.  Above all, “Radar” had a super catchy hook and was the one track that I couldn’t shake.  It turns out that, along with “Piece of Me” and two other tracks from Blackout, “Radar” was produced and co-written by the Swedish duo of Christian Karlsson and Pontus Winnberg (aka: Bloodshy and Avant).  In 2007, Karlsson and Winnberg teamed up with American frontman/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist, Andrew Wyatt to form Miike Snow and did so without any real expectations.  Bloodshy and Avant had already achieved a high level of success from their production work with vagi-centric pop acts like Spears, Kylie Monogue, Madonna, J-Lo etc.  In fact, these guys even produced and co-wrote the song “Toxic” which was credited by multiple publications as being one of the greatest songs of the Two-Thousands.  So, although their names as artists may not be as recognizable as the acts whose careers they helped to boost, most people are still very familiar with their work.  With Miike Snow, the production duo is now stepping out into the forefront to endure any risks and rewards which may come along with it.

Miike Snow was performing back over at the Bigfoot Stage and, based on the promotional and live images that I’ve seen of the group, I figured that they would provide a good photo opportunity, if nothing else.  For a band that was created without any real intention of touring, their visuals are crazy impressive.  Their spirit/logo animal of choice is a jackalope, for chrissakes, and it’s featured on the cover of their album in the form of an engraving on an ice-block.  Their myspace page even currently has a huge photograph of the mythical rabbit/deer hybrid rocking a gold medallion and with antlers in the shape of a biohazard logo.  It also appears in the backdrop of their club shows, but playing outside away from the mainstage affected things like backdrops and eerie lighting through puffs of smoke.  The other aesthetic focus for them seems to be matching outfits and either printed respirator masks or freakishly blank masks in the vein of Buckethead.  My hopes were that they would at least be sporting some of those.

When they took the stage, Miike Snow was in their touring form as a 6-piece.  There were no crazy masks, but they were wearing matching black satin jackets.  To the left was an additional member playing the keys.  In the back was a drummer who resembled David Caruso with a mustache.  Next to him was a keyboardist wearing a black hat that, when combined with his all black outfit, made him look like he was an Amish or Orthodox Jewish man.  All 3 of them were wearing sunglasses.  The 2 keyboardists had beards and, with the mustached drummer between them, they were like an electro version of ZZ TOP.  To the right were two keyboard X-Stands side by side with Karlsson and Winnberg behind them.  Winnberg‘s held a Prophet 08 synthesizer while Karlsson‘s supported a drum machine and various other equipment.  Wyatt stood center stage and, although he’s American, I couldn’t help but think that he looked like a Euro-version of David Berman (Silver Jews).

For a band whose live shows should generally thrive much better inside of a spooky ice cave, their set went incredibly well on the sunny outdoor stage setup.  At points, the hatted member picked up a bass and Wyatt even strummed a Gibson SG for a while.  Keeping their C&C Music Factory producer vibe in tact, Bloodshy and Avant remained joined at the hip from their section of the stage, alternating intense focus with energetic outbursts.  They pitch shifted notes and tweaked nobs, while Karlsson would use the drumstick in his right hand to knock the shit out of his electronic pads.  Beyond Andrew Wyatt‘s vocals, the subtle intricacies in their production are the real strength fueling Miike Snow‘s appeal.  The sextet managed to pull off singles like, “Animal“, “Burial“, “Black and Blue“, and “Silvia” with near perfection.  If you like their studio work as a trio and are worried if such a production-heavy sound has the ability to translate effectively into a live forum, it definitely does.  The backing band does an incredibly efficient job and the drummer didn’t seem to have any issues adjusting to the varying drum styles showcased throughout their work.

For those who are unfamiliar with their particular brand of dance jams, the Guardian‘s description of Miike Snow‘s sound as a cross between A-Ha and Animal Collective isn’t far off.    The song “Animal” contains synth-pop, reggae elements that cause them to sound a lot like The Police.  Wyatt‘s vocal delivery even resembles early Sting, but I like the Police and this song is undeniably catchy as fuck.  “Silvia” is a slower track with a fairly dramatic build-up.  It isn’t bad, but there’s something in it that reminds me of “Sunday Bloody Sunday“, especially in the introductory verse.  “Black and Blue” is a really dancy Jamiroquai-meets-Prince soul mix.  Everything has a familiar sound, but that’s what pop music thrives on.  Like I said, Miike Snow makes music that is hooky as all get-out and, if you are into electro-pop, this is as good as any of it.  It’s fun music without being overly cheesy and they did get the crowd amped up, but they’re not Bob Dylan and it’s probably not gonna change your life in any deeply profound way.  Miike Snow makes simple, straight-forward, good time dance music.  They do not construct complicated mind-bending prog-rock, or Sun Ra-esque space noise, but they aren’t trying to either.  If you just want to go to a show and hop around in a positive mood, they’ll supply the soundtrack.

WHY?

During Miike Snow, we met back up with the group we were traveling with.  However, before the set was over, I decided to go off on my own to finally locate the media area.  It turned out to be a little section over by the YETI stage and right next to all of the little food stands.  I flashed my wristband to a security guard and walked through an entrance in a wooden fence.  The section had a few picnic tables and a little table with some Sun Chips and Nature Valley granola bars on it.  There was also a portable building, a cylindrical chest full of ice with bottled water in it, and a singular Honey Bucket sans the giant line.  The portable was provided as a spot for media to set up their laptops, utilize the wi-fi, and go through their photographs, but I didn’t bring my computer for 3 reasons: I didn’t want to lug it around, I wanted to enjoy the festival, and I didn’t trust that my shit wouldn’t get jacked in the campground.  Some guy was interviewing a couple of the members from OK GO at one of the tables.  I sat down at a different one, drank some water, and chomped on a granola bar.  Then I heard a sound that I recognized coming from the YETI stage and left the media section to check it out.

Performing on the stage was the group WHY? and the song was “These Hands“; something that I must have heard while researching the band prior to the festival.  I went up in the photo pit area and sat down.  Ryan Neighbors from PORTUGAL. THE MAN was sitting down there, among a handful of other people.  Frontman Jonathan “Yoni” Wolf was wearing a white and grey striped long-sleeve polo with a white collar and a large white hat.  In the past, the vocalist has resembled his Jewish heritage much more closely but, with his current mustache and tan skin, his outfit made him look a lot more like a Hispanic Gilligan.  Wolf‘s older brother Josiah sat behind a drumkit and vibraphone set up, with Doug McDiarmid on keys and Andrew Broder and Mark Erickson of FOG handling the guitar and bass duties.

WHY? was originally just the rap alias of Yoni, until he chose to make “solo” albums, at which point WHY? slowly morphed into some level of indie-rock/hip-hop hybrid.  Prior to that, he worked heavily with other Anticon hip-hop artists in groups such as cLOUDEAD.  I snapped off a few pretty good photographs but, eventually, I couldn’t really take the full set.  The band sounded capable enough and I actually liked them at first.  However, after about 3 or 4 songs, their sound became grating and irritatingly monotonous.  These guys have garnered critical praise elsewhere, but I just couldn’t do it.  Wolf‘s vocal delivery has the same nasally quality as endless other “conscious” rappers and it’s a quality that I find to be of sub-quality.  I spent six years in Olympia, Wa with corny-ass rap crews that sounded like these guys and, regardless of the fact that WHY? may be better than them, it still reminds of trust fund gangsters trying to “drop knowledge”.  The type of kids who know who Atmosphere and Sage Francis are, but have never heard of KMD or listened to “Planet Rock” and “Raising Hell“.  This type of shit doesn’t inspire me to want to plant trees and read poetry; it makes me want to burn trees and listen to the most gangstered out shit that I can get my hands on.  If your vocal delivery mirrors that of John and John from They Might Be Giants, you better be singing quirky pop songs over an accordion.  I’m not sure when that became the go to vocal tone of underground prophets and neo-beatnicks, but it just sounds like whining to me.

Kim was hungry, so she came over to meet me and I gave her a granola bar as we waited in line to get financially raped by the concessions stand.  While we stood there, Wolf announced that they would be playing the theme song from the Dustin Hoffman classic, Marathon Man.  That was actually a nice detour for them to take in the set.  We spent $8 a piece on some mini Dominos pizzas that were about the size of a tiny sandwich plate.  We walked back over to the Bigfoot stage, scalding our mouths as we tried to shovel some food into our stomachs and keep ourselves going.

THE HOLD STEADY

Two of the best things about Sasquatch is their booking and scheduling abilities.  Bonnaroo has a rapeload of stages and an incredible amount of acts, but hardly any of them ever interest me.  Sasquatch, on the other hand, provides a higher concentration of quality music and does so by taking the focus off of quantity.  The other thing that always pissed me off about a lot of large festivals was the way that they always double-book shit that I want to see.  It’s not really a personal taste issue either, because the double-booking that they do is generally so obvious that it just seems fucked up and intentional.  In 2004 I went to Bonnaroo and they booked Primus at the same time that Ween was playing on a separate stage.  Both of those acts have a similar fanbase, but it gets worse… In 2005, Bonnaroo had 3 amazing jazz acts that I really hoped to be able to catch.   The Benevento/Russo Duo feat. Mike Gordon (Phish), The Bela Fleck Trio (includ. Jean Luc Ponty and Stanley Clarke), and Herbie Hancock doing all of his old Headhunters-era work, were all booked around the same time on different stages.  It’s not listed that way on wikipedia, but I remember having to deal with that dilemma and it was fucked up.  If nothing else, there were at least 2 of them booked simultaneosly, so why would all of the jazz acts all go on at the same time?  Poor planning?  Just a dick move?  It doesn’t really matter.  What matters is that, although there can always be inevitable overlaps here and there, the people in charge of that area of the Sasquatch Festival are a lot more conscientious about their scheduling and have done a remarkable of job avoiding such conflicts.

Before heading to the main stage for the nights final two headliners, we had the option of choosing between The Hold Steady and The National.  You could say that this was one situation where I was equally as interested in checking each of them out, but a more accurate way of saying it would be that I was also equally as disinterested.  We chose The Hold Steady.

I was standing in the photo pit and when they entered the stage they did it like a hurricane.  To say that The Hold Steady puts on a high energy performance is an understatement.  Lead singer, Craig Finn was ridiculously animated and he hopped around with spastic movements that would rival those of an epileptic meth addict with Parkinsons being administered with shock therapy.  It was really infectious at first and I was actually pretty excited myself.  I was feeling really lucky as I caught Finn in one choice pose after another.  One moment he clenched both of his hands tightly to the sides of his head.  Next, he gripped the mic with his left hand, while he extended his right arm out to the audience like he was saluting the Third Reich.  Then he spread his arms to the side, as if to embrace the entire crowd.  The whole time he was singing with a tremendous smile across his face.

The next song started and was equally as high energy.  In fact, it was pretty similar to the first.  Finn pointed his arm out to the crowd again and then spread them wide as if to hug them.  He grabbed his head like he couldn’t believe what was happening.  “Wait!“, I thought.  “This motherfucker only has 3 poses and he rotates them incredibly fast“.  If you search out anyone else’s photographs from The Hold Steady Sasquatch set, you’ll notice very little difference between them.  Occasionally, Finn would actually strum the guitar that was hanging around his neck.  This generally occurred during the upbeat chorus that tends to exist after each of their typical and formulaic, casually delivered straight-ahead verses.  Sometimes, when the singer’s arms were extended with his palms out, I could see him repeat the words, “What?!  What? What?” through his giant smirk.  The sides of his mouth were wet with spittle, like an infant trying to handle Gerbers.  I found myself wondering if this guy had ingested too much Adderall or if he hadn’t taken enough.  The next song… same thing.  I’ve never gotten burned out on anything quicker.  I couldn’t take it and I needed to get the fuck out immediately.

I didn’t have much familiarity with their catalog, but I don’t remember their sound being quite so poppy.  I have since listened to some of their work and I do believe that Craig Finn has a pretty good voice and I recognize his talents as a lyricist.  They even have a Seventies Springsteen and Elvis Costello influence that I’ve since noticed and can also appreciate.  Still, while I was there, it felt like little more than a high-speed pop-punk show fueled on mis-prescribed Ritalin, smoothie boosts, and a disdain for curfews and homework.  I was not a fan.

Vampire Weekend

Even though I wasn’t into The Hold Steady‘s set, I knew that I had still taken some good photographs.  I sifted through my camera images to check out my shots but, as I tried to show them to Kim, photos that I had taken from before began to disappear and come through as “unreadable“.  This was not good, so I freaked out and pulled the SD card immediately.  In preparation for the festival, I wanted to pick up an additional SD card, so that I knew I would be able to handle any number of images that I could possibly come away with that weekend.  This provided me an opportunity to work another classic hustle.  I had won some DVD‘s in an internet contest and one of them was the first season of The Sarah Silverman Program.  I returned it at a store for credit and put the value towards a Kodak SD card.  Now this brand new purchase, that was supposed to take the place of a sketchy budget version, was glitching out and fucking up my whole game.  All but one WHY? shot (pictured above) was still readable and a ton of The Hold Steady shots were now missing along with some Miike Snow photos.  Even though it wasn’t their fault, it made me hate their set even more and we left early to head over to the main stage.

We caught the very end of the The National and waited for Vampire Weekend, who was scheduled next.  Here was my opportunity to see what all the hype that’s been surrounding these clowns was all about.  Everybody likes these guys, right?  Isn’t that the deal, that they are supposed to be some young indie stars that everyone from kids to critics can really get behind?  All that I knew was that, I’d been walking around this festival all day, excited about discovering a lot of knew music but, for the most part, it was becoming a bust.  I had been in this human zoo for hours and Saturday wasn’t really the day for me lineup-wise.  Mostly, I had just been using the first day to feel things out and the poor pacing was starting to wear on me hard.

Vampire Weekend hit the stage looking like a bunch of preppy kids that I would never have any desire to kick it with… ever.  I could picture them driving themselves to the show, blasting Jack Johnson from a teal colored Ford Probe.  They say that their name has nothing to do with the Vampire film craze that’s big right now and I believe them, but I doubt that the fans in attendance that night got the memo.  A fair share of their music definitely pulses through the iPods of tween girls while they wait in line for the new Twilight tickets.

The first song they played was called “White Sky“, but I didn’t know that then.  For all I knew, they were about to do a cover from Paul Simon‘s Graceland album.  I couldn’t help but wonder if any of the little hipster kids hopping around in the audience had any idea how much that song sounded like something taken directly from the early String Cheese Incident catalog.  Next they played their song “Holiday” and it was actually happier than the last one.  Yep, I fucking hated these guys, but not as much as their crowd.  Never has there been a band more deserving of beach balls flying around during their set.  Frat boys in white sunglasses and neon hoodies hopped and stumbled around everywhere.  Girls wore flip flops and flung their arms carelessly into the air and everyone smiled from ear to ear.  I thought about grenades.

Next was a song called, “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa“, which kept their little island party jam vibe going.  These guys are actually a solid live band, as far as being able to play their instruments, but I couldn’t give a fuck about them overall.  Is this what people want these days?  Happy happy happy!  These guys write little sing-along tracks with little substance and, in my opinion, are the equivalent of listening to a Raffi album.  Guitarist, Rostam Batmanglij was obnoxiously dressed like a cross between one of Griff Tannen‘s sidekicks in Back to the Future 2 and Meshach Taylor‘s character of Hollywood from the movie Mannequin.  Lead singer, Ezra Koenig had a sly Corey Haim smirk across his face the entire time as if to say, “I’m gonna try to fuck your girlfriend.“  In his little button up shirt and Karate Kid-era Ralph Macchio haircut, I’m assuming that he’s supposed to represent the dreamy boy from English class who started his own band.  These chachis even have a bassist with the last name Baio.  There are worse songwriters and definitely worse musicians, but the overall scene is a difficult one for me to stomach.

I don’t mind “Island” music but… actually, I do mind Island music like this and I think that Jimmy Buffett sounds like shit too.  If I want to listen to something like this, I’ll just listen to something like Graceland or “Naive Melody” by the Talking Heads.  If I want to hear something “ethnic”, I will put on something awesome like Fela, Orchestra Baobab, Toumani Diabate, Os Mutantes, any number of Studio One albums, etc.  I’m not really interested in hearing a bunch of derivative shit from a group of Handsome Boy Modeling School rejects from Columbia University.  Their whole set sounded like “Kokomo” on repeat to me.  I will admit that I have slightly more respect for Sublime, but these guys do hold some similarities in the way that they make cultural music for the lazy and xenophobic.  Hey kids!  Turn off the 40 oz to Freedom, throw this Vampire Weekend shit out the window, and go pick up a Big Youth record or something.  Turn on some Sizzla.  All this happy shit just makes me want to listen to the Melvins.  Seriously, what the fuck is going on with these goddam kids?!

My Morning Jacket

The mainstage headliner for opening night was My Morning Jacket.  This was the band that Patrick was primarily enthusiastic about seeing.  He absolutely loves this fucking band and this show would mark his 5th MMJ show overall.  It was my first.  Jesse didn’t seem to care either way, but I think that we were both on the same page with being open to seeing how it turned out.  I wasn’t super familiar with their catalog, but I do have a couple of their albums and have heard their name mentioned repeatedly over the last decade.  Somewhere and somehow over that time period,  they’ve grown to the point of being considered as a formidable act, capable of headlining during a major festival.

The introduction for the Louisville band was dramatic.  A quick burst of sound came through with smoke and a flash of light.  Then total darkness.  Then another flash of light and sound, followed by more darkness.  There was a sonic electric buzz from the guitar and pulsating keyboards.  This was what could only be described and their THE WHO moment.  As far as I was concerned, that intro was already sounding more promising than the entire Vampire Weekend set.  When the actual song finally kicked in, it was “One Big Holiday” from the 2003 album, It Still Moves.

Front and center stage was some sort of stuffed, plastic-headed donkey figure with a mic propped up to its inanimate grill for show.  Frontman, Jim James was like a dirty outlaw, with his long duster-looking trench-coat and unkempt beard.  There was a Gibson Flying V strapped to him and, to further complicate his overall look, he had some crazy Legion of Doom/ motorcross/skeleton/ moon-boots situation going on with his foot wear.  The closest assumption that I could make is that they were some skeletal version of Gene Simmons‘ infamous dragon boots.  I still have no idea about the meaning behind the band name, but I did notice that guitarist, Carl Broemel and bassist, Tom Blankenship were wearing their evening jackets that night.  Blankenship went for the full look by adding a tie and jeans, while Broemel opted for the blazer with the open collar dress shirt.  The “sexy rocker” look, if you will.  Like Broemel, drummer, Patrick Hallahan was also wearing a black button up, as if they were waiters at an upscale restaurant downtown.  Everything felt just a little too Super Bowl halftime for me.  You may be reading this and thinking, “So what?!  Who cares how they were dressed?  Why does that even matter?“  My only answer to that is that I honestly don’t know why it should matter, but they definitely seem to put in a conscious effort to achieve the “seasoned rock band” look.

Song number 2 was “Gideon“.  This one is a dreamy track, which also contains a bit of a Michael Kang from String Cheese-style riff throughout it.  It’s the kind of fanciful riff that could soundtrack a public market at a renaissance fair.  I guess some things about Sasquatch‘s musical selection really haven’t changed too much since the first year.  To follow it up, MMJ played their song “Off The Record“, which incorporates a super upbeat dub rhythm and a blatant jack move of the Hawaii 5.0 theme song.  In essence, it’s basically just another pop song.  Both of these songs can be found on My Morning Jacket‘s highly successful album Z (2006).  Z marked a rather large shift for the band, as they had replaced both their original guitarist and long-time keyboardist, just prior to it’s release.  I had heard Z a few times in passing and remembered it sounding pretty good but, like most of their work, I only had a basic outline of an idea about what I thought MMJ sounded like and that idea was constantly being jostled and mutated.  These guys are both a lot more southern rock and more poppy than I had ever realized.  These are two that, in their generic form, I am not really too big on.

Between each song, the lights would go out again for dramatic effect.  In fact, there was a lot going on for “dramatic effect” and I personally felt like it took away more from the performance than it added anything to it.  The poor staff camera work that projected them onto the big screen didn’t help out the cause either.  The camera operator must have felt that there was something artistic about shooting everything at a 40 degree angle and there were a lot of off-center transitions into zoom shot’s of eye-brows, cheeks, and unfocused nonsense.  Jesse and I had found some time to talk about music earlier in the day and he had mentioned something to me about being turned off by seeing video footage of Jim James wearing a cape in concert.  I was surprised to hear that, but had to agree that it sounded fucking ridiculous.  I believe that it was during the next song that the cape made its appearance at this show.  The lights came back on just in time to expose someone fastening a cape around the lead singer’s shoulders and my speculations were right; it was definitely unnecessary and over the top.  The song, on the other hand, was a more understated track called “Touch Me I’m Going To Scream Pt. 1“, from their most recent effort, Evil Urges.  It has a Flaming Lips inspired sound with a lot of subtle effects and layering.  In fact, I could aptly describe a lot of their work as a more Southern rock version of the Lips.  The song ended and the lights went off.  When they came back on,  James‘ cape had turned back into his gunslinger jacket.  The only difference was that, now it was accompanied with a scarf.  The first real concert that I ever saw was the Motorhead, Metallica, and Guns ‘N’ Roses tour, and I remember Axl Rose changing his outfits at least 8 different times that night.  This was also around the time frame where Metallica was really laying the groundwork to sound like terrible, misguided shit for the future.  Motorhead, of course, was still awesome.  The point is, when you get to the point where you have to start wearing a different outfit and pausing between each song, you’re well on your way to being played out.  That is, if you aren’t there already.  This was rockstar shit and it was beginning to turn me away from these guys fast.  Plus, the long day was already beginning to wear on me and my lower back hurt like a bastard.

The scarf was worn for the straight-up Southern rock “Amazed“, also from Evil Urges.  It’s a pretty simple track, but I never found it too interesting and it’s especially, not very innovative.  I believe that next was “Magheeta” from It Still Moves and then the yacht rock/Christopher Cross sounding “Tonight I Want to Celebrate“.  I think that I made it to the song “Golden“, before I couldn’t stand there anymore.  Jesse and Briana had already slipped out, while Patrick stood there, lost in the show with a giant smile across his face.  He loved the show and I was genuinely happy to know that they were playing all of the tracks that he wanted to hear, but the day had taken it’s toll and my back felt like someone had been throwing die-cast metal Tonka trucks at it all day.  The cement floor just wasn’t working with my feet and My Morning Jacket had not won me over in any way that would make the discomfort worth it.

The ironic thing about us leaving when we did is that this acoustic “Golden” was probably the best thing that they had played yet.  It’s just a simple country/folk song, which is not only the genre that I feel that MMJ thrives best in, but also a direction that I feel that they should have continued to embrace.  I feel that it’s important to note that Patrick told me that, out of the 5 times that he had seen them, this was the best show he had witnessed the group perform yet and the show went on forever.  So, if you are really into them and their current sound, you probably would have really enjoyed this.  I, on the other hand, am worried that they are believing their own hype a little too much.  People use to really like old U2 and their Irish working man sound.  Then, one day, they decided to become “rock stars”, their music got even shittier, and they arranged the excessively elaborate PopMart tour.  I fucking hate U2.  People say that it was all a joke and that Bono was trying to make a statement about stardom, but I don’t entirely believe that.  I think that the lines blurred and that they actually became part of their own joke.  Those jack-offs eventually even got stuck in their Lemon-shaped pod, exactly like Spinal Tap.  The irony is that, while U2 always claimed that their intentions were to parody over-the-top productions of acts like the fictional Spinal Tap, in the end it was still a reminder that Spinal Tap was originally created to mock bands like what U2 actually became.  GNR went from whiskey drinking biker bar rats and got to the point where Axl Rose was firing everyone from the band and sporting corn rows and velour.  Jim James sometimes refers to himself as “Yim Yames“?  Maybe this is his alter-ego, like Mephisto.  Why doesn’t he just change his name to J. Diddy?  Or better yet, Morrissey… or even Oprah?  Don’t believe your own hype buddy, it’s not too late to turn it all around, or maybe it is… I don’t know.

The fucked up part is that, while other critics seem to believe that this band is getting better, I actually believe that they are getting worse.  Their attempts to emulate Prince on Evil Urges made me cringe.  The only album that I own besides that one is their debut, The Tennessee Fire and I actually think that it’s is a really solid effort.  Coincidentally, they didn’t play one single track from that album.  In fact, they avoided anything from their first two albums like the fucking plague, except for a bonus track from At Dawn (2001).  However, they played almost all of Z, and went through a ton of material from Evil Urges and It Still Moves.  It always makes me wonder about a band when key players who were vital in their growth end up leaving.  My friend KB has a theory that MMJ is a “safe” band for all of the people who are afraid to listen to Phish and the Dead.  I wasn’t sure if I understood it at first, when he told me that.  Are these guys supposed to be a jam band?  I’ve since noticed them listed that way, but they don’t really jam out and they definitely don’t seem very experimental or improvisational to me live.  They felt more like a business and less like a band.  Everyone had their role, their own little spot/job, and their own little area.  Smoke billowed and there was a solo, right on cue.  That type of shit.  Jim James scurried across the stage like Axl used to do and he even unnecessarily spun around in a circle at one point.  Jerry was an old fat dude, Bob Weir wore daisy dukes, and Phish are a bunch of nerds, but the music comes first and they’ve always played with and through each other’s parts impeccably and with everything that they had.  The idea of those 2 bands is to hand the music over to the audience like a gift and play off of the energy and appreciation that was given back.  It’s new-age hippie shit, but there’s something legitimate about it.  Processed stadium rock stars are more inclined to elevate and separate themselves from their audience, as if they are beyond them.  This MMJ scene felt incredibly processed and it was disappointing to me because, in listening to The Tennessee Fire and even at points in their current material, I feel like this band could be more.  Unfortunately, it feels like their focus has become more about presentation than truth and songwriting.

I should have known better, but I recently saw some footage of James performing with John Prine and I let it cloud my judgement, because of my huge respect for the musical legend.  Then again, Noel Fielding hangs out with Courtney Love so… I guess that associations aren’t always a sufficient gauge for much.  Hell, Herbie Hancock even had John Mayer performing as part of his band, when I saw him last time.  By respecting and restraining themselves during collaborations with their more influential predecessors, the musical talents of some artists can actually be re-directed and honed in more productive / impressive directions.  I think that more “rock stars” these days could actually use an Obi-Wan.

We originally walked towards the lawn seats, but just kept moving on our way out of the venue.  We went by the Rumpus Room and I realized that the Z-Trip set was already over.  Fuck.  Then we walked over by the Bigfoot Stage where a DeadMau5 late night set was going to be kicking off.  I was too beaten down and, although I really wish that I could have, I just didn’t have it in me to stay.  Based on the video footage of what I missed, it’s clear that it must have been one of the most amazing parts of the entire festival, let alone that day.  As we walked, wasted out kids who couldn’t handle their psychedelics lurched around and bumped into us like zombies.  We stumbled back to our campsite battered and I met up with some friends who were camping only a few rows away from us.  I downed a couple of beers and a muscle relaxer from Mexico they had given me for my back.  Day one was over and it was time to get some sleep.  There were 2 more days left in this fiasco, but tomorrow was Pavement… so we were just getting started.

[To view all of our images from Day 1 of Sasquatch,
check out our flickr set HERE.]

We love Frank Zappa… a lot. This also means that we take it seriously when someone decides to cover his music. We are sure that his son Dweezil loves him too… a lot, but that doesn’t mean that he’s capable of covering his father’s work and doing it justice. When I heard about the Zappa Play Zappa project that Dweezil has embarked on, in which he tours with a group of hand picked musicians to cover his father’s music live, I was incredibly skeptical.  However, after speaking to some of the biggest, most hard-assed, and critical Zappa fans that I know, every response that I’ve heard has been incredibly positive.   It sound like this kid has taken this project as seriously as anyone could have ever hoped and that the resulting effort is beyond what could have ever been expected.  When Zappa Plays Zappa makes it’s way to Seattle on Monday June 14th with a performance at the Moore Theater, it will be our first opportunity to catch this critically acclaimed tour for ourselves and see if it lives up to the hype. T he good news for you is that, we’ve teamed up with the Seattle Theatre Group yet again, to offer that same opportunity to some of our readers, for free!

Our friends at STG Presents have offered us 20 pairs of tickets to give away!   Yep, that’s 40 total, and were’ not fucking around.  This is no joke my friends.  In fact, it looks like we will probably have even more than that, when it’s all said and done, so pay attention to the rules and act quick if you’re interested.   If you do this right the first time we shouldn’t have any problems.

HOW TO ENTER

We’re doing this shit real simple like.

First off, go to our official FACEBOOK PAGE and become a fan by clicking the “LIKE” button.

Next, head to the “discussion” section/entry page, which was specifically created for this giveaway.
[that can be found HERE]

Then, just tell us you want a pair of tickets and tell us the name that you want us to put them under.

All entries/requests must be received by midnight on Wed. June 9th

Fine Print:

We know that we have 20 pair to giveaway so, most likely, the first 20 people that enter shouldn’t have any problems being the ones to get them.  However, since I’m not sure how many more we will have to give away beyond that, you’re encouraged to try, even after thos first 20 entries are in.  To give yourself an edge, you might want to give us a reason that you want to go and/or why you love Zappa so fucking much.

Don’t be a greedy bastard!

This means a couple of things… we are trying to be generous here, so don’t start asking for more than 1 pair of tickets, or we’ll cut your ass off with zero.  Also, please do not ask for tickets if you are not going to be able to attend and don’t enter other people.  There are a lot of folks that will really want to see this so, if you don’t really give a shit, please don’t take that opportunity away from someone who does.

That’s all.  NOW HURRY!

The Black Lips have been scheduled as contenders in Converse‘s BAND OF BALLERS basketball tournament being held on May 1st in their hometown of Atlanta, Ga.  This is the second time that the event has been held, with the squad of rapper Jim Jones taking the championship crown the last time around.  This year, The Black Lips have not only issued a challenge towards the other celebrities and musicians on the courts, but have directed one towards their pockets.  This post is pretty straight up, so I’m just going to post the majority of the press release directly:

BAND TO DONATE THEIR EARNINGS FROM THE EVENT TO CHARITY, CHALLENGE OTHER PARTICIPANTS TO DO THE SAME

“The band will be receiving $5,000.00 for their participation in the event, the whole of which they will be donating to the Auditory Verbal Centre Inc., a non-profit organization dedicated to the rehabilitation of deaf children, some of whom have been outfitted with cochlear implants in order to play music. More info on the charity can be found here: http://www.avchears.org/

The Black Lips are challenging the other players to do the same with their participation fees.

…Fans who want to see the tournament should stay tuned to The Black Lips’ Facebook page for ticket giveaways, or be one of the first 30 people to head down to Criminal Records (1154 Euclid Avenue Northeast) and sign up for the guest list.

Tickets giveaways will also be occurring through V103 Radio and various Atlanta music blogs.“

Here is the groups official video challenge:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Other artists which will be taking part in the event include Of Montreal, Jay Electronica, and former Kriss Kross producer/founder, Jermaine Dupri (yep, we haven’t forgotten about that yet).

CLICK HERE to see more about last years event.

Fred Cole is like some sort of musical version of High Lander or a vampire.  Since 1964, at a mere 16 years of age, Cole has been an enduring force in the music industry.  By organically adjusting, adapting, and adding to his signature sound, he has been able to move inconspicuously amongst mortals throughout the many passing decades.  Few others can lay claim to having performed shows with the likes of the Doors and Janis Joplin in the Sixties, as well as with Punk legends like Ramones in the Seventies, and bands like Black Lips of today.  Fred Cole has been there and transitioned admirably through all of it.

Fred met and married his wife Toody before he was out of his teens and they have been together ever since.  Through the births of their children, playing in various bands together, running a music/general store, and even living in the unforgiving elements of the Yukon, the Coles are like the Zan and Jana of sonic onslaughts.  From the garage rock/psychedelia of The Lollipop Shoppe, to the punk of The Rats, to the country-influenced The Range Rats, and the mashed up rough punk of Dead Moon, Fred has remained a vital voice in the music industry and Toody‘s has increasingly grown stronger and stronger.  After almost 20 years and being the subject of a documentary, Dead Moon disbanded in 2006, when the couple parted ways with drummer, Andrew Loomis.  Now, with the addition of drummer, Kelly Halliburton (Severed Head of State, Defiance), the Cole‘s are about to head out on tour with their most recent musical project, Pierced Arrows.

I caught Pierced Arrows during their last appearance in Seattle and they were an impressive live act; incorporating new tracks with classics from projects of the past.  Their sophomore album, Descending Shadows will be released by VICE Records on February 2nd.  The following video of the trio performing their new song, “Let It Rain” in the yard of their Oregon home.

…. and here’s the video for their song “Paranoia”, also on Descending Shadows.

Make Sure to catch them when they come through your town.

Tour Dates:

^ = w/Lullabye Arkestra

2/07/10            PORTLAND, OR                       SLABTOWN
2/23/10            FARGO, ND                             THE AQUARIUM
2/24/10            MINNEAPOLIS, MN                   7TH STREET ENTRY
2/25/10            CHICAGO, IL                           SUBTERRANEAN
2/26/10            DETROIT, MI                           THE CAFÉ
2/27/10            CLEVELAND, OH                       BEACHLAND TAVERN
2/28/10            PITTSBURGH, PA                      31st STREET PUB
3/02/10            ALBANY, NY                            VALENTINE’S
3/03/10            TORONTO, ON                         EL MOCAMBO
3/04/10            MONTREAL, QC                        GREEN ROOM
3/05/10            NEW YORK, NY                        MERCURY LOUNGE^
3/06/10            HOBOKEN, NJ                          MAXWELL’S^
3/07/10            NEW HAVEN, CT                       CAFÉ NINE^
3/09/10            PHILADELPHIA, PA                     KUNG FU NECKTIE^
3/10/10            WASHINGTON, DC                     DC9^
3/11/10            BALTIMORE, MD                        GOLDEN WEST CAFÉ^
3/12/10            CHAPEL HILL, NC                       THE CAVE
3/13/10            ATLANTA, GA                             LENNY’S BAR
3/15/10            HOUSTON, TX                            RUDYARD’S
3/16/10            DENTON, TX                              RUBBER GLOVES^
3/23/10            TEMPE, AZ                                 SAIL INN^
3/24/10            SAN DIEGO, CA                          BAR PINK^
3/25/10            COSTA MESA, CA                        THE DETROIT BAR^
3/27/10            LOS ANGELES, CA                       REDWOOD BAR^
3/28/10            LOS ANGELES, CA                       ECHOPLEX^
3/30/10            SAN FRANCISCO, CA                    BOTTOM OF THE HILL^
3/31/10            PORTLAND, OR                           DANTE’S^
4/01/10            SEATTLE, WA                             THE FUNHOUSE^

Based on a recommendation from my friend Benny “P” (The Punks), I made sure to get to Neumos early enough to catch the opening act, WOODS.  When we got there, the members of DUNGEN were out front talking casually to some fans.  Sean Prince noticed a friend of his and, after they spoke for a moment, we discovered that there was a third band, which was playing before WOODS, and that this friend, Justin Shwartz, was in it.

BRAWLEY BANKS

Brawley Banks was six members deep; covering bass, drums, keys, and 3 guitars.  They sauntered out onto the stage, somewhat lackadaisically.  At first site, they didn’t exactly scream confidence, but I wouldn’t necessarily say that they came across as “nervous” either.  If there was any unsureness on their part, I would attribute it to performing in an opening slot on an unfamiliar stage.  A few things seemed off with the sound.  The levels were a bit uneven and Shwartz‘s vocals were far too quiet.  The venue’s sound engineer slowly made the necessary adjustments but, even with a less than perfect take-off, it was immediately clear that the band would provide a set worth listening too.  The keys, mixed with the chunky riffs and use of guitar slide, provided Brawley Banks with a dirty Southern Rock sound.  Although I think that it is more than unfair to equate them to a band like The Black Crowes, it is hard to find a widely accessible analogy to describe the sometimes raunchiness of the guitar work, swirled with the soaring notes of a baptist church organ.  Once the mics picked up, the sextet actually displayed some nice Grateful Dead style harmonies.  Another aspect that was impossible to ignore was the thundering strikes and cymbal crashes from their drummer.  Even the rest of the group seemed to look back towards him as a regular reference.  It wasn’t too surprising to later discover that the man behind the kit was none other than William Goldsmith, from Sunny Day Real Estate and early Foo Fighters fame.

It seems as if they haven’t been performing as a group for too long, which may have been forcing them to make more of a conscious effort to play with each other.  Whether that was true or not, they still sounded surprisingly good and were clearly each experienced musicians separately.  The “surprising” part was that I have fallen prey to the expection of opening bands being disappointing.  One of the main reasons that it would be unlikely for me to write for a local publication, like SOUND Magazine, is because they’re in the business of sucking every local acts dick and dousing their derivative and overly processed tripe in sugary coating.  I understand that the priority is to hype local acts and say encouraging things about them, but the only reason that I write anything ever is because I just didn’t believe anything that I was reading.  I always want to be able to embrace the openers and shower them with praise but, most of the time, they’re not even worth mentioning.  Brawley Banks is a good band and, although the crowd was not huge, everyone that was in attendance was forced to pay attention and acknowledge their performance.  Their sound offered up some familiar elements, but they didn’t come across as being contrived or overly forced.  Eventually, I realized that any lack of “stage presence” or awkwardness that I may have sensed was stemming from Brawley Banks just not giving a fuck about image and placing their focus on the music, the way that they should be.  I also realized why I was having trouble getting into so many other small-time local bands.  It was because they were focusing on their fancy images and stage presence, instead of creating listenable music as THEY should be.  Their set was extremely short, but it was long enough for the group to make an impression and set the tone for the evening.  All too often, the most effective thing about an opener is that they set the crowd up to be blood thirsty mongrels, waiting for the headliners.  This show was different and, since it began on an up note, I was comfortable enjoying the acts as they came and without any anxiety.  It was one of the first times, in a long time, that I didn’t feel the need to kill time getting drunk in a bar waiting for the main act.

WOODS

The crowd size was decent on the floor, but I had noticed that the upper portion of the venue had been closed off for the night.  They clearly didn’t expect an overwhelming turnout and it was fine with me that they were right in their assumption.  I used the gaps in the crowd as an opportunity to maneuver my way up close to the stage before the WOODS set.  Guitarist and lead vocalist, Jeremy Earl, set up on the left,  while Jarvis Taveniere and Kevin Morby handled the rhythm section respectably.  Band member, G. Lucas Crane sat on his calves dead center with his left side to the audience.  He had a suit case with him and a giant pedal board at his knees in front of him.  When he opened the case, it exposed a pile of loose cassette tapes with various day-glo scrawlings across them.  The top-center of the board contained a Big Muff distortion pedal.  On either side were numerous other effects, including a Holy Grail reverb and a couple of Boss pedals.  The lower half of the board was arranged with two big ass, old school tape recorders plugged into a mixer that they were sandwiching.

At first the name “WOODS” didn’t sound like much to me.  I thought that it was  just another random and unrelated word pulled from thin air and chosen to represent an indie band, so as to evoke as little emotion as possible, but I was wrong.  WOODS is actually the most aptly named group that I have come across in quite some time.  Their sound provides the soothing and comfortable feeling of a drinking tea at sunset on the cool porch of a humble, moss covered woodland shack, while, simultaneously, mixing in the spooky uncertainty of howling winds and rabid wolves, strategically circling the same shack at dusk.  The music is both comforting and ominous.  WOODS‘ latest release, Songs of Shame, is a great album and was represented strongly at the performance.  Seeing them live was like breaking through a wood-rotted fence to experience Songs of Shame in 3D, from the seat of a poorly oiled carnival roller coaster.

WOODS combines a solid balance of pop and folk structures with a lo-fi approach and the unrestrained, anti-structure of noise rock.  Jeremy Earl’s solos find him brutally strangling his guitar neck and landing on discordant frets, as if wringing the life from a rusty android goose.  The guitar work circles the tracks like a buzzard over dessert carrion.  Somehow, there is logic in their mix of chaos and imprecision and it works for them.  The potential for the warbling melodies to lose their footing, is remedied by the constant support provided by the static ridden, lo-fi effects.  G. Lucas Crane operated his pedal effects and knobs entirely by hand.  His janky looking mixer was missing it’s knobs and the tape-recorders had the cassette covers removed.  As incense smoke wafting into his face, he leaned over his set up.  He was constantly replacing the tapes and, like with any other DJ set up, he was working the faders to mix the pre-recorded sounds.  Headphones wrapped around Crane‘s head horizontally, so that one of the ear pieces covered his mouth and worked as a microphone.  He often appeared to be working frantically, but  it was difficult to hear if he was doing anything at all.  In monitoring his movements, while listeneing closely, his vocal and abstract sound contributions pronounced themselves from the background.  Jarvis Taveniere and Kevin Morby shared duties with the drums and bass.  Mid-set, Morby grabbed the bass from Taveniere and moved out of the way for Jarvis to settle in at the kit with a guitar.  He played the axe while seated and even laid it across the floor tom, beating and manipulating the strings with his sticks.

Everything about the indie quartet seems fragile enough to topple over at any time.  There is so much contradiction and duality in the music that it is often one aspect of the group threatening to weigh down on the other lighter elements and snap them like a twig.  Jason Earl‘s voice is probably an acquired taste for most, but I really enjoy it.  His delivery is tinged heavily with the sound of Neil Young, but as if it was placed through a high-pitched Brother Danielson voice modulator.  The instrumentation often mirrors Earl‘s cracking voice, as it is both fluid and harmonious, but also diced up with choppy moments.  Imagine the morse code-like flight pattern of a remote control plane that’s running out of batteries, with all of it’s drastic, brief, and sudden dips, drops, and peaks.  With all of their disinterest in orthodox musical approaches, WOODS is still more than a troupe of untalented and gimmicky noise rockers.  In fact, the songs are actually catchy and their sonic madness, traveling echo effects, and experimental chaos all play roles in supporting song structure, not simply in replacing it.  The lo-fi lack of interest in over production works to provide an earnestness, instead of coming across as pretentious as is too often the case.  They differentiate themselves from the electro-noise environment of their hometown, Brooklyn, by transitioning from instrumental psych into songs with delicate folk lyrics floating across static clouds, like a paper boat drifting down a sewer drain.  I recommend checking them out and I enjoyed their set, even more than I may have realized at the time.  Ever since the performance, I’ve had the song “Rain On” burrowed into my fucking skull like a mole cricket.  It’s definitely something that  grows on you.

DUNGEN

In continuance of the “groupings of trees” theme, the name DUNGEN translates from Swedish as “The Grove“.  Front man, Gustav Ejstes is credited with writing all of the music and performing most of the instrumental parts on the album but, by all accounts, DUNGEN is still a 4 piece.  The other members are featured on the studio releases and consistently operate as Ejstes‘ touring band.  A piano bench and keys were brought out and placed center stage.  When the band took the stage, they had a fifth member seated behind a set of congas next to the drum kit.

During set up, I snapped a photo of the set list that was taped to the stage for reference.  Since all of the lyrics and most of the titles are in Swedish, I have a problem remembering the songs by name.  Gustav entered with a huge smile of gratitude, but kept his back to the audience, as he shook a tambourine throughout the opening instrumental track.  It was simply labeled as “Intro” on the setlist and, although it wasn’t the same “Intro” from the Tio Bitar album, it was a great high energy opener that helped to showcase the musicians‘ technical abilities, right off the bat.  After the intro, Gustav picked up an acoustic guitar and prefaced the next tune by stating that it was “Dedicated to Fleet Foxes“.  He further explained that they had had an opportunity to spend some time with them, while in town.  In fact, the percussionist, which would later be referred to as “Josh“, was actually none other than, local troubadour and Fleet Foxes drummer, J. Tillman.  They performed the Summery and melodic psych-folk track “Festival” and followed it up with the track “Bandhagen“.  Ejstes sat for the piano heavy instrumental; his face blocked by his wavy shoulder-length hair.  The song sounded amazing and I was surprised at how flawless everything had been performed up to this point.  Whether or not people feel the constant necessity to remind each other that Ejstes is the “core” of the group, nobody in DUNGEN should be overlooked or ignored.  Their individual versatility and complexity, as well as their overall cohesion and synchronicity as a group, is nothing short of mind-blowing.  The most exciting part was that the show was only getting started.

For the song “Ingenting Aer Sig Likt” (“Nothing is the Same”), Gustav invited the remaining four members of Fleet Foxes to come up and join them.  For the most part, Robin Pecknold just hid himself behind the bass amp, but the rest of the band members grabbed percussive instruments.  It was a jazzy number that really displayed Ejstes‘ piano skills.  He twinkled away and tore up the keys like Fred Rogers on his famous children’s show intro.  The guests left the stage and the next offering “Det Tar Tid” (“It Takes Time“) was introduced as “A Love Song“.  It’s a sultry song tinged with psychedelia and ethereal piano ripples, which would fit right at home in a romantic boat sequence at the end of a ‘70s Bond film.  For “Du Ska Inte Tro Att Det Ordnar Sig” (“You Shouldn’t Expect it to Work Out“), Gustav rose from his seat and grabbed his tambourine again.  Bassist, Mattias Gustavsson, laid down a 70s blues rock rift, which provided a solid foundation for Ejstes vocals and Reine Fiske‘s soaring guitar work.  Drummer, Johan Holmegard, provided a heavy back beat, accented with little explosive, Jiffy-Pop drum rolls.

Before the next track, I heard Sean Prince scream out a request of “ABBA!” from the other side of the stage.  About this time, I was also asked to stop shooting photographs by the management.  “Bortglömd” (“Forgotten”/”Neglected“) contains a heavy driving rhythm and crunchy, choppy guitar distortion.  It’s easy to hear the Sabbath influence in DUNGEN‘s music, but the sound of this track might be more appropriately likened to stomping on bald, squealing break pads, while traveling through a black whole on your way to smash through a brick wall.  Gustav stomped around and shook like Robert Plant and Reine Fiske held his screaming pick ups towards his speaker cabinet.  His ability to harness every note and control every aspect of, otherwise, unwieldy feedback was amazing.  He had a delicate touch that was hard to ignore and could tweak a high-pitch note through the roof like a Blue Angel, make it stop on a dime, drop it like a busted elevator in an inferno, and reel it back again.  It was as if Fiske could set off a landmine, freeze the shrapnel in mid-air, form the pieces into a bullet, and then shoot it through your face.  His control was ridiculous.  They slowed things down for “Sätt att se” (“Ways to See“), a beautiful and jazzy piano odyssey filled with wispy psych guitar.  Something about the tune reminded me of Dots and Loops-era Stereolab.  The next song was “Mina Damer Och Fasaner” (“My Ladies and Pheasants”) and featured Gustav on flute.  The bassline thumped along like the soundtrack to a mythical army of Orcs marching through a barren wasteland.  Buzzing Eastern guitar painted a landscape of blood red clouds overhead.  It was a dark tune, but whimsical as all get out.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if a fairy or some magic potion spilled from the end of Ejstes‘ flute during his little wind flurries.  Those in attendance were fortunate enough to be treated to an extended jam that doubled the length of the song.  Mattias Gustavsson ran up and down neck of his bass and Johan Holmegard spooled out drum beats like a trash can full of hummingbirds.  If the show was an acid trip, this portion could definitely be considered the peak.  It was like the moment when Robin Williams finally sees the fluorescent putty that everyone’s munching on and has a food fight in the movie Hook.  The jam was part 1970s Dead and part Miles Davis.  Although they ventured into spaced out areas with reckless abandon, every single note and movement seemed logical and transitioned smoothly.  Holmegard simultaneously threw down complicated drum lines while taking tempo cues from Gustav to end the song in percussive lunacy.  The top of my skull had been blown off like a toy rocket and WOODS‘ G. Lucas Crane lovingly screamed, “You Mutha Fuckaz!“  at DUNGEN from the audience.

The drum intro to “Panda” was quickly and easily recognized by the excited crowd.  It was the first DUNGEN song that I had ever heard and it had sucked me into their music immediately.  Holmegard‘s drumming continued to mystify me and he effortlessly maintained the driving beat which, in reality, was way more complicated than I had ever realized.  Gustav had, what appeared to be, an electric Gretsch leaning against an amp throughout the night.  The neglected guitar featured a reference to his hip hop roots in the form of a Stones Throw decal.  He picked it up and stated his desire to dedicate the next song to their US tour manager, Chris Newmyer.  He followed that up by saying,  “It’s nice to play music in another language.  People have their own.” and then asked Newmyer to remind him of the English phrase that he substitutes when singing along to the title track from their Ta Det Lungt album.  Apparently it was “Play With Balls” and, every time that they reached the chorus, Gustav Ejstes actually screamed the words “PLAY WITH BALLS!” in it’s place.  Mattias, who was singing along from the bass, clearly didn’t know that Ejstes was going to do that, so he laughed and stumbled through his vocals.  As the song progressed and he realized that he was going to be forced to stand in representation of scrotal manhandling until the song was over, he looked more and more uncomfortable.  The members from WOODS roared with laughter and, when the music finally ceased, Newmyer stepped up to the piano and left two $20 bills on it, as if it was payment for the antic.  Gustav crinkled the bills under his nose like he was savoring them and Mattias just said, “I should have some of that money too.“  They played one more jazzy piano tune, “Målerås finest“, before announcing that their “last song of the tour” would be “Fredag” and inviting the members of WOODS and Fleet Foxes to come back on stage and join them.  They crowded onto the stage and Gustav thanked everyone for coming out to the final show of their “Fuck Yeah Tour 2009“.  J. Tillman had left the stage during “Panda“, but Ejstes only just realized it and began screaming, “Where’s Josh?!  Where the fuck is Josh?!“  Once everyone was ready, they finished off the night with a percussion-filled extravaganza, and left the stage.  Mattias Gustavsson pointed a camera at the audience and prompted, “Get together.  I want to get you all in this.“  He later returned to quiet the screams for an encore by apologizing and explaining that Esjstes could not continue due to a current health issue.  “Seriously… seriously…seriously.  Gustav is fucked up inside.”

It’s a rarity for me, but I found the entire show to be captivating and packed with substance.  The combination of the WOODS and DUNGEN sets made me feel like I was at an incredible and amazing house party, minus the irritation of pretentious activists and the standard, drunken hipster in the obscure amusement park sweatshirt gratuitously macking on uncomfortable college girls.  The majority of DUNGEN‘s set was comprised of songs from their most recent album, 4 .  Although it hadn’t resonated with me as much as the previous efforts, the show was so great that I’ve gone back a rediscovered much of it’s material with fresh ears.  Their jazz sensibilities were more pronounced than I had expected and were admirably fused with the Prog, Psych, Folk, and Rock elements.  I ran into my friend Josh, towards the end of the show and we both expressed our awe and satisfaction of the show quality to each other.  He mentioned that, after seeing DUNGEN perform two years ago, he half-assumed that they would have reached some sort of Zeppelin status by now.  Not that they don’t deserve it or don’t have the live chops, but I just don’t see that happening.  In general, I feel that people have a problem moving beyond the language barrier to give them the chance that they truly deserve.  After I left, Josh also mentioned that he spoke with Reine Fiske, who told him that he had a straight job that he needed to get back to when they returned to Sweden.  Apparently, the sheer appreciation that DUNGEN expresses towards their audiences is derived, at least partially, from the fact that they have somewhat normal lives back home.  They come to the United States and get to become rockstars for 5 weeks, or so, and then it’s over.  One thing is definite; all of the excitement, power, and gratitude that they feel is projected in spades for those brief moments that they get to perform for those who appreciate it.