geekent’s stuff’n things

2003 november 20. gracing the bowery over the past two nights were broadcast. broadcast currently tour as a five piece and they’re a throwback to the british art rock scene of the 1960s. they perform with what looks to be vintage equipment and the only light on stage is from the trippy background visuals: projected images of old science films and oil prints on a white backdrop and the lead singer, who looks like she could out-model twiggy with her marvelous jet black bangs (or fringe, as is the british vernacular).

however, the sound is what defines them, which feels like a modern throwback to the experimental underground. the rhythm section maintains a lockgroove that allows the guitar and keyboard/FX to float around in their electrostatic haze, colouring the music impressionistically. the vocals ground the treble mayhem, with an effortless tranquility that beguiles.

broadcast were brilliantly supported by manitoba, who have been touring over the past year. i had seen dan snaith’s act a few months back as manitoba played with prefuse 73 and four tet at southpaw (graig’s review of the toronto show) and they blew everyone else out of the water. this time around, the scene was familiar: a trio, faces masked, hopping from instrument to instrument. most of the time, it was a double drumkit attack with a guitar, but there would be frequent changes to the keyboards, melodica and xylophone whilst DVD footage of childlike imagery (crayon drawings coming alive, large-headed people playing the woods, dancing puppets and so much more) would carry any of the vocals and background noise. it’s outstanding to believe that manitoba was a laptop act before turning into a psychedelic salad of folky beats. admittedly, the band was visibly tired (and there’s only one bear mask left!) but they managed to push out an aggressively fun set that captivated the uninitiated and pleased the converted.

a hawk & a hacksaw opened on the first night, but i missed the one-man act completely. he plays drums with broadcast and he did that well. based on the samples on the site, he’s very much experimental himself, but it’s very spartan.

2003 october 10. when i heard that beth gibbons and rustin man would be playing a show at arts at st. ann’s, i was stoked for many reasons. i had always wanted to see her well-known band portishead live for a long time and she was playing two nights at a venue i had never been to before, which was close by to where i live in one of my favourite neighbourhoods to explore: dumbo.

she was playing two nights to celebrate the recent north american release of her album out of season, which had been out everywhere else for over a year (although i thought i had bought mine last year domestically). and what a venue: the former spice milling factory makes for a fantastic place for different types of performance. the warehouse was configured for a large bar space by the entrance and enough floorspace between the stage and the raised seating for hundreds of people. this space filled up quickly on the first night, chatting, sipping wine as a brilliant mix of music came from the speakers. country folk, orchestral pop, northern soul, garage rock…everything set the tone for the evening well.

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2003 october 4. outdoor concerts are always an iffy affair as inclement weather always looms large; unpredictably threatening to make the day a wreck if wind, rain or any other condition settles in. so are music festivals for a worthy cause or anything with a list of unconfirmed acts. the lineup when you bought the ticket can change so easily and the poster listing the acts tries to lower expectations with the "acts not finalized" in fineprint as a footnote.

sadly, the renewable brooklyn concert, supporting the brooklyn centre for the urban environment and various other environmental organizations throughout new york city, was hit by bad weather, various artists bailing out and a lack of word-of-mouth. at most, there were about 500 people at
prospect park for the show with about the same amount backstage and in the VIP tent. although the sky looked all right in the afternoon, once the clouds came down, the temperature dropped substantially, leaving many people scrambling to the gorilla coffee tent for some massively strong (and thankfully hot) beverages, brooklyn brewery’s new organic beer or two boots pizza’s organic menu.

when i arrived just after 4pm, i took a look at the tents and exhibits by the tennis house. there were groups such as greenhome and
zipcar with information and various local artists using the theme of reusing discarded material such as fabrics, furniture and metal into practical objects or fanciful sculptures. i could hear some funk groove coming from the amphitheatre as i looked at proposals to put wind turbines in the east river and how rooftop gardens save on energy consumption in the home.

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2003 march 21. the knitting factory makes for a great place to hang out in tribeca. along with at least two different bar rooms, the main room has a concert floor and a seating balcony. you can see the history along the walls, whereby many important artists played or released albums through the club. friday night, two bands played two sets of two styles of music, sharing a similar world of exploring old sounds but approaching them from different directions.

first off is the ultra poppy i am the world trade center (sticking with their commemorative name defiantly, named so well before the attacks in september 2001). the two members took the stage joyously and started the evening with their minimalist new wave set.

dan gellar manned the keyboards and amy dykes took the microphone, coming across as one half of air along with a new wave molly shannon. from the beginning, they mixed pop savvy with their pre-programmed dance rhythm. at first, it took a while to stop feeling like a karaoke night, but once they deviated into berlin’s the metro, they drove headlong into their own dance party. they endlessly bounced around, amy banging a tambourine, dan singing into the vocoder, both doing impromptu choreography, covering the human league and otherwise bringing high energy to the surroundings. the crowd warmed up slowly and although they didn’t fully get into the hyperkinetics, they appreciated the vibe (and dan’s breakdancing moves).

coming from the other side of the fence was luna, with their countrified velvet underground stylings. definitely mellower than the world trade center duo, the crowd was eager to lap up luna’s prowling darkness. accompanied with a boppy organist, the four piece spent the next hour and half covering the moody rock they’ve been taking care of over the past 10 odd years after the breakup of the influential galaxie 500.

i admit that i wasn’t a knowledgeable fan of luna going into the show, and there were a few times where i thought the pace was plodding. however, i have seen the light and found their tales of hypnotic woe a delight and will track down more of their music.

you can see photos from the show (early? late? unknown) off this photographer’s site. as well, the bassist has her own site.

2002 february 19. ladytron are misfits, where they go about their own business regardless of what’s currently happening. they released their debut album 604 in the midst of the manufactured bands, well before the current 1980s electropop revival. and while their more vampy and trashy brethren perfect their fashion looks as part of the electroclash zeitgesit, ladytron remain effortlessly more cool as their recent album, light & magic, aims for a more pop æsthetic. they maintain their eastern bloc soul, an economic synthetic songstyle that doesn’t flop about, advertising their edginess.

last night at the bowery ballroom (they play a 2nd evening tonight), ladytron came in to answer questions about how their music would translate live and whether their current "it" status would continue the escalating attack on the faux-electro vibes. the first opening act were emperor norton labelmates phaser, who i unfortunately missed due to a nap and my confusion on whether the M train ran at night (short answer: nuh-uh).

i arrived in time to catch simian from astralwerks, who i had seen before when they performed a dj set during the cmj marathon closing party. this time, they brought their instruments along instead and proceeded to chart a brilliantly distinctive setlist, taking their multi-instrumental indie pop skills into many territories. they’d hop from psychedelic jams, techno stomps, space rock, tribal beats and guitar pop, blurring the lines of genres. the vibe was loose and having all 4 players sing (or occasionally yell) added to the charm. if i wasn’t convinced already, i’m sold now and i need to find more of their music.

then, after the rig setup, ladytron came out, all in matching dark grey uniforms. accompanying them were a bassist and a drummer. initially, you’d think it’d be like kraftwerk, since the 2 lads and 2 lasses look eeriely similar, androgynous to a degree. however, although the german progenitors played with computers, they never sounded like commodore 64s on steroids. ladytron proceeded to lay on the sound with a furious beat, squawling sinewaves ripping through the unprotected audience’s ears.

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kid 606 is true punk. here he is, the man who stubbornly trashes the often overintelligent and idiosyncratic by fronting his love of pop music, yet surpasses their cold theorizing by creating a mosaic of frantic beats, relentless noise and cutup sampling that’s not stale. at the same time, his energy is infectious, dropping in known standards and completely decimating them into digital shreds with two powerbooks on stage.
kid 606 stopped by tonic last night here in the lower east side of new york city and he brought his hardcore ethos, evidenced in his tigerbeat6 record label, with him to tear off a few hundred souls’ heads. i arrived as nathan michel’s set started, where he sat behind a keyboard and laptop, proceeding to play his own classically-inspired compositions with a glitchy twist, giving the impression of a nintendo game in a blender, with strong melodic lines spreading the frantic beat like unco-operative butter on toast. nathan sang as well when he played, giving the bedroom rock a human touch.

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homecoming shows are always a mixed bag: it’s a relief to be back, so a lot of pressure is off, with family and friends around, making the performance fun. as a result, though, the edge can be taken off, meaning that sloppiness and self-indulgeness can easily creep in.

last night’s show at the bowery ballroom, the first night of a 2-day set (this being the all ages show), thankfully, headed towards the former, allowing the jon spencer blues explosion to come home after various little tours over the past year supporing their latest album plastic fang. i managed to catch them in may 2002 as part of an earlier leg of the tour, back when they looked more vampirical and had to fight some dumbass who climbed on stage.

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before i go ahead with this show review, let me just say that it was buy nothing day and i was concerned about two things: A) the ticket stipulated that there was either a two drink minimum or twelve dollar plate, and B) there would be schwag for sale, meaning i’d have to decide between my convinction or my loyalties (the latter would have won). thankfully, the waitstaff wasn’t that observant and there was only one cd available for sale, so i held off, waiting to buy online monday.
no matter. i’ve been wanting to see mike doughty, the former soul cougher, live for a long time, so after missing a few times where he opened up for another act in town, joe’s pub was the place to be as he headlined the entire hour or so. just he and his guitar and a loving audience, clapping, hollering out requests at every possible break.
mike has great stage presence and a brilliant guitar style that’s all funky all by its lonesome. he played a lot of his solo work off his skittish cd, along with a few old soul coughing songs, plus a few covers, including the ever popular fire truck (written by a 4-year old, consisting of one chord and yelling FIRE TRUCK! five times). the crowd was brilliantly rowdy and mike was the true ringmaster, fielding requests, feeding us stories about the store on the corner of 7th and park slope that best identified with him (connecticut muffin) and how his super found his ass magazine stash whilst fixing the boiler. 70 minutes of non-stop bohemian adventuring, ending off with a boisterous version of janine, where everyone screamed out the chorus like jerks. ’twas a blast.

an astonishing double bill was setup this past monday when both vic chesnutt and jonathan richman took the stage at the town hall (between bryant park and times square).
shortly after 8pm, vic chesnutt wheeled himself out on stage, armed only with his small guitar, a harmonica and some sheet music. people were still trying to shuffle in as he started to play his offbeat rustic compositions. his voice has a brilliant southern croon aspect to it, singing with a wavering warble that brings to mind michael stipe (with whom he has collaborated in the past with the full r.e.m. band). at the same time, he has a quirky sense of dopey humour, akin to emo philips. his between song banter was limited to looking confused over which song to say and a simple "oh, i’ll play this one, yeah" when ready. sometimes, the humour went over as a lead balloon as he once indicated, but those who were there were pulled in. as the last song, he attempted to field requests, but after waiting a minute with various requests were made, he picked one and then forgot which one it was, starting the process again except with a higher concentration of the previous minute. although it looked he was medicated (which turned out to be the case upon what i heard), it was a controlled fifty minute set.
after a brief intermission, jonathan richman and his faithful percussionist tommy larkins came out and the crowd came to life. i had first witnessed the entire richman experience last year in toronto with graig at lee’s palace, and that was one of the best performances i had ever seen. jonathan is an accomplished troubadour, with an effortless songbase which he wears loosely to improvise around on stage and a magnetic charm that shines through his every movement. tommy plays a more dour counterpart to the more joyful jonathan, but his steady backbeat allows jonathan plenty of flexibility on stage and his straight man act allows some subtle joking, like his staged spittake after one jonathan’s tales.
but jonathan, he commands the centre of attention. touring in front of his latest album, her mystery not of high heels and eyeshadow, he jangles his guitar playfully but precisely as he does his confidently humble shtick. effortless switching from english to spanish to french and italian, it seems like he can’t believe he’s entertaining people for a living, but he can’t complain and he’s confident with what he has. stepping back from the mike every once in a while, whisking the guitar away, sounding faint but then pulling out his cool dance moves, he brings the best out of everyone. and when the crowd sang along, he’d definitely put everything away and start twisting in a goofy hammy fashion. positivity soaked everywhere; in particular, there was this one girl who was bopping in her seat non-stop and jonathan and her couldn’t stop smiling at each other, pushing each other further. his brilliant stories about love, loss and travel, all with humourous banter and a never-weary voice of wisdom after 30 years of performing, you can’t help but think that he’s a sinatra-like presence, singing songs of deep earnestness and innocence, tempered with a brilliant humour, you feel like you’ve hung around him all your life.
if you haven’t had a chance to see him live, go out of your way to find out when he comes close to your town. if not, check out his albums and you can start to get an impression of what the songs are and what he starts with onstage.

yesterday night brought the 2002 cmj marathon to a close and the astralwerks record label hosted a night with 5 acts from their roster.
i was running late, after becoming easily distracted by a goldfishmobile (which is pretty in my case), a statue that i thought was a street performer which actually was a statue and the passed out dude at the burger king (all on 34th street, kids), so when i made it to the hammerstein ballroom (which had seen jurassic 5, dj spooky and medeski, martin & wood play the nights before, although in front of people other than me dammit), i had missed the first act, audio bullys. fortunately, there was a label sampler cd issued at the end which included a track by the duo, which was quite rowdy for a dance act.
when i arrived, i caught part of the erlend øye sound system, which was actually a dorky dj set by one half of norway’s kings of convenience. he didn’t look that prepared for what he was supposed to do, clumsily hosting as he fudged the turntable, sang overtop whatever was playing and doing a jerky dance, cutting out the sound every once in a while, demonstrating how the sampler works and generally dragging everything down. kinda like watching a car crash through a vic20; you had to be in a certain mood to be amused.
fortunately, erlend wandered off in darkness, leaving a bronski beat song on (well, that runaway song; are there others?) for simian to mix over. the 4-piece mobile disco crew presented a creative mishmash of styles, mixing their own pieces with some ragtime, cowboy warbling and the latest glitch-pop. although not completely cohesive, it was a novel mix of sounds, processed via a powerbook and keyboard.
then the night really started once cassius hit the house. the gallic duo presented their works to the floor, starting off with a david bowie "we could be heroes" loop that proceeded to burn everyone up. they then coolly mixed their own work, which fuses the perverse (what is it with the french and their love of bad wonky electric guitars?) with a calculated dance beat that somehow works. respect was given to the fallen jam master jay with the ultimate shoutout from run-dmc: peter piper. along with a live version of their latest single with the vocalist in the house, the night was perfectly set up….
…for the unrelenting chemical brothers, playing their last show of their tour. the set was effectively the same as it was when i had saw them last, seven months ago at the hershey centre in mississauga (west of toronto, y’all), but fortunately, the sound system survived, so their mad mix of beats and noises was preserved throughout. there’s nothing like seeing them live, so i didn’t mind the repeat experience, especially since they don’t stop. there’s a great build up and tear down ethic at play, but on the whole, the flow is relentless, making your body move non-stop. of course, earplugs are required and i was prepared, considering the first time i saw them live, 5 years ago, i couldn’t hear anything but ringing for 3 days afterwards.
it’s unfortunate that i wasn’t able to catch more of the 4 day festival, but until i’m properly paid to do report on such things (or i can suffer work the mornings after), i’ll be content to catch things in a piecemeal fashion.

2002 october 18. david holmes is a northern irish dj who started off creating and spinning gentle techno/electro in the 1990s until he drifted into a more soulful, stax vibe, heavy on a funky organ and a jazzy beat. other than being widely known as being providing the score for such smooth films as (the remade) ocean’s 11 and the luscious out of sight, david’s also done remix work for artists such as u2 and the manic street preachers.
spinning on a quick tour in promotion of his latest mixed cd, come get it i got it, (which includes cuts from his newly formed funksoul band, the free association) david holmes cut a real casual vibe in the cramped basement of the meatpacking district’s apt, known in wired circles as being home to the ipod self-dj experiment. the turntables were setup beside the bar as the back-lit woodpanelled walls grounded the scene. being rather small, the place filled up fast.
showing up late, i listened to the last bit of the opening act, one of the staff from other music guiding the music when the messy peroxided hair of david holmes, lager in one head, went up the wheels and started one of the most diverse 3 hour mix sets i’ve heard. coming in from a long day at work and a quick walking tour of lower manhattan with two of the fine staff from toronto, i was a bit wiped from standing, so i found a counter to lean on until a seat opened. that said, you could easily find something to groove or nod your head to. the astonishing thing was that all sorts of disparate genres were mashed together with impunity, from rockabilly to soul jazz to scuzz rock to proto-disco to new wave to no wave to electro to the latest beat cruncher to the newest floor pounder. it was dizzifying in some ways but coherent and blatantly obvious how all these elements could be combined in this way. where else could dropping diana ross covering marvin gaye’s ain’t no mountain high enough along with the jon spencer blues explosion, georgio moroder, queens of the stone age, that great early 1980s song with the british chanting about getting to trafalgar….it was a great set.
still loving the new york city scene where the party really doesn’t stop, so when the opening dj swapped for david so that he could unwind and dance with the crowd, i stayed for a bit longer until my ears bled and i couldn’t stay upright anymore. left around 4am to take a rocket taxi home (and thankfully remain on the ground), mighty pleased at a wicked night out. catch mr. holmes if he hits your town next. if not, at least try to get an earful of the mixed cd (review soon on the monkey; i’ll backlink at the appropriate time).
(apparently, the free association are in tour through england in the end of the year. i have no idea how that’s going to turn out, but it’s worth a butcher’s if you have a chance.)