Efterklang @ Nectar

Plus Peter Broderick (Slight Return).

It seems like only yesterday that Peter Broderick was here at Nectar, opening for local alt-folkie Tiny Vipers. Well, maybe not yesterday, but it was barely more than a month ago. Now here he is again, on the same stage, with the same assortment of instruments and looping devices, playing some of the same songs, for a somewhat larger crowd. There’s an odd sense of deja vu, but also a sense of anticipation. When he introduces the folk song that his father played for him as a child, those of us who were here for his last show know that the introduction becomes a part of the composition. We watch the faces around us as we wait for these little surprises to crop up. We know that look people get at those moments of musical epiphany, because we were here making that same look not too long ago.

It would be easy to write off his little musical tricks as gimmicks, but they’re not simple novelty. There’s a real sense of showmanship to them, of acknowledging his methods and incorporating them into the creation, rather than trying to make everything seamless. He keeps reminding you of what he’s doing, layering, looping, and manipulating; not as a way to distract from what he’s actually playing, but as a way to heighten appreciation. Not only is a he a brilliant instrumentalist and singer, but he’s also thinking and planning two steps ahead of himself at all times.

At one point he had the whole audience repeat some spoken lines after him, while recording us with a handheld recorder. Supposedly, this will be included somewhere on his next album.

For all of Peter Broderick’s talent as a solo musician, the real main event tonight was Efterklang, the 7-piece (8 if you count their soundman) Danish/American collective responsible for the 2007 album Parades, a sweeping epic that somehow combines melancholy indie rock, wisps of electronic texture, choral vocals, and marches. Going in, I was a little worried. How can something so huge, so layered, and so intricately arranged, be reproduced by a handful of musicians?

I was wrong to be worried. Experiencing these songs live was every bit as rich and rewarding as hearing them on record. All 7 of the musicians on stage sang and played multiple instruments, often switching instruments or spots on stage mid-song. Between 7 part vocal harmonies, and a miasma of guitar, bass, drums, piano, violin, flute, trumpet, glockenspiel, shakers, tambourines, and laptop, there was never a sense of anything lacking from the arrangement. Not to say that it was overwhelming, or overworked. They moved from stately and restrained to dramatic and bombastic, delicate to aggressive, ecstatic to bittersweet.

Since this was the first date of their US tour, we were also treated to the world premiere of several brand new songs, many of them only known by working titles like “Loose Ends” or “I Was Playing Drums”. These new songs were just as intricately crafted as the more familiar material, feeling just as fully realized and well-thought-out. They’re going to be spending time on the road, playing these songs every night and refining them. I can’t even imagine how good they’re going to sound once they’re finally recorded.

I missed this band when they came through town a year ago, and I regretted it immediately. Now I regret it even more, having seen them fully live up to their potential on stage. But at least I got a chance to rectify my error, and now I know not to miss them again.

Project Inventory

More for me than for anyone else, but I thought I’d write up a quick little inventory of personal projects for this year. Mostly of a musical nature. Some are in progress, some are a flicker of an idea.

Miniature Airlines: The plan is to have some sort of new release out by summer. That could possibly be a full length album, one or more EPs, or something else entirely. I’ve got a lot of mostly unreleased music waiting in the wings, I just have to find a direction and finish it all off. Which is actually more work than it sounds like. I’d also like to create a music video of some sort. This one falls more into the “flicker of an idea” category so far. Oh, and I’d love to update the website.

Superficial Hero: My old indie rock band is undergoing a slow-motion sort-of resurrection, and I’d like to see some payoff for that. We have a bunch of old songs and a handful of new ones to finish, then we need to figure out the logistics of getting the songs recorded properly while living in different states. But I’m getting a lot of ideas for this aspect from my next item…

Droomstyyg: Timm & I have been recording our friend Andrew’s black metal project, Droomstyyg, for a little while, and the results have been great so far. We’re working in a relatively quick and dirty style in Logic Pro, and our goal so far has been to record a song a week, in a 4-5 hour session (including stopping for beer and pizza). I’m learning a lot about Logic’s workflow, and can’t wait to put some of that knowledge to work elsewhere.

Unnamed Synthpop Project: I’m excited about this one, but it’s a little back-burner right now. This is another Timm & Dylan collaboration. We’re planning on performing as a live synthpop duo at some point, with live vocals. We need to finish a lot more music and work out a live setup to make this happen, but I think we’ve got a good chance of pulling it off. I’ve been working on a cover song in this style to get my feet wet, and it’s been going well.

D.iscontent: Our label/crew has been around for about a year now (I just renewed the domain name!). We’ve managed a few releases and a couple of shows in that time, and I’d like to see us busier this year. More performing, more recorded output, more stuff in general (videos, podcasts?). I’d also love to release music by someone (not counting remixes) besides the two of us, and I’d also like to make sure it’s worth their while to do so.

M83 @ Neumo’s

Tuesday night shows can be such a hit-or-miss affair. throw in a holiday weekend, and you’re practically begging for anemic attendance. Luckily, last night’s M83 show at Neumo’s suffered none of that malaise, packing the house to an almost uncomfortable level (not uncommon for this venue).

School of Seven Bells opened, and I have to admit to not paying super close attention to them. What I heard from the side room sounded pleasant, but not exactly revolutionary. Their synth heavy sound was a good complement for the headliner though, full of drum machine patterns and breathy female vocal harmonies. It’s probably worth a closer listen at home, but with the prospect of full-on new-wave/shoegaze assault from M83 coming up, it ended up sounding like sonic wallpaper in the club.

Anticipation built pretty quickly on the main floor once SVIIB was done, and the band milked it for a while before casually strolling on stage. Frontman Anthony Gonzalez sauntered out first, letting loose a squall of rhythmic filter sweeps before the rest of the band joined him, launching into “Unrecorded,” from their first album. It was a nice nod to past before the rest of their set, which was pulled almost entirely from their latest album, Saturdays=Youth,  which I guess could be described as their breakthrough record. It could also be called a nod to the past in it’s own way, with it’s sonic and aesthetic referencing of the 80s, from the Human League to Cocteau Twins.

Some bands that mesh electronics with live playing have a hard time pulling off a live show. The experience can be like karaoke if it’s not handled right. M83 never fell into this trap, keeping plenty of human playing in the mix at all times, most notably from the absolutely metronomic human drummer sitting behind a wall of plexiglass. They managed to sound dense without sacrificing clarity, tight without sacrificing spontaneity. They were in town only 6 months ago, and I have a feeling the constant touring has refined their show. It would have been interesting to see them last time around, and compare to the precision of last night’s show. Maybe they were always this good.

Four Days of Beats

The Moment of Panic

Last night was the big D.iscontent show at the Baltic Room, where Timm and I debuted the live sets we’ve been working on almost non-stop since the beginning of the year. It was a lot of fun, with great visuals, a lineup of excellent DJs on either side of our live sets, and good turnout (especially for a holiday Sunday).

But there was one moment of sheer terror.

We’d showed up to sound check early in the evening, getting all or connections sorted out and hooking up all the gear to our laptops and the mixer. Everything was sounding good, and it was great to finally hear the sets on a big, booming PA. Timm’s set ran smoothly, and towards the end I got up behind the DJ booth to set up my gear next tot he decks. I get everything powered up and running, fire up my software, and take a look to make sure the software is responding to the gear.

And guess what? It’s not.

I restart the software. Still nothing. I unplug my gear and plug it back into the laptop. Nothing.

I turn to Timm with a sinking feeling in my stomach, and tell him he needs to cover for me. He’s a total trooper, so he improvs the end of his set, dragging out his last song longer than planned, with more variation than he’s practiced. Meanwhile, I hit the power on my laptop and begin the long slow boot back into Windows.

When it finally boots up, I plug my gear back in. Up pops a window, asking if I’d like to install new hardware. This is the moment when I reeeeeally start to worry. I cross myself and mutter a few obscenities. Fortunately, the solution is simple; I switch the two USB cables for my MIDI gear and audio interface. Everything clicks. My software responds. Disaster averted. The show goes on as planned. Which is good, since I was one more error message away from committing ritual suicide.

Static Gliding

I should probably mention that a new project just launched. Go visit D.iscontent! What is it? It’s a label-like, crew-like thing founded by myself and Hjalti, where we will be releasing music and gathering together other Cascadian musicians for collaborations, shows, etc. We’re accepting demos if you’re intrigued by what you see and simply must be a part of the excitement.

In case I haven’t mentioned it here yet, the live debut of the D.iscontent crew takes place on May 25th, at Static Glide Part 2, with Miniature Airlines (aka your truly) and Hjalti playing live PA sets at the Baltic Room, with DJs Travis Baron and Levitation Device keeping things bouncing. It’s free before 10, so you have no excuse for missing this. It’s also my birthday, so you have no excuse for not buying me drinks all night..

Static Glide Part 1, featuring Telephone Jim Jesus and DJ Egadz, went off last night, but not exactly as planned. Originally slated for the VIP Room at Neumo’s, the show was merged with Broken Disco at Chop Suey at the last minute. Damn Seattle Fire Marshall, making things all complicated! It still went off well, and hopefully interest will carry over onto our show in two weeks.

Why? & Mt. Eerie @ Vera

It’s an odd pairing, but in someon’es mind, there was some theoretical sense to it. Pairing a scruffy, mystical folkie from Anacortes, known for hushed, sacred songs backed by a nylon stringed acoustic guitar, with an equally scruffy, neurotically self-revealing pseudo-rapper/indie rock star playing with a full, fractured band. Luckily, in practice, it worked out beautifully.

We came in during Julie Doiron’s opening set, and my first thought was “Cat Power clone”. Serene’s Feist comparison turned out o be more apt as the set drew on though. She was standing alone on stage, gently strumming and fingerpicking an electric guitar and talking compulsively between songs. I think she might have spoken more words than she sang during the set. But there was something charming about her songs, delicate but occasionally fierce, sweet and sad.

I’d never seen M. Eerie before, despite several opportunities to do so. I wasn’t sure what to expect either. Phil Elverum solo, a full band, some odd configuration of exotic instruments and woodland spirits? It turned out to be Phil Elverum, joined by Julie Doiron on backing vocals, and another guitarist, playing all new material that they had written and recorded during the previous week. A giant sheet of handwritten lyrics, festooned with underlines and notations as to who was singing what part, was unfolded and served as a cheat sheet and setlist, and they plowed through a batch of songs so fresh they had to refresh each others’ memories between songs. Even with limited visibility of the stage, it was a great experience. the audience was unusually quiet and still, rooted in place as the music flowed from the stage. At one point, the projected videos on the back wall displayed some sort of metal scrapping in process, showers of sparks building and cascading in unplanned synchronicity with the rise and fall of the music. They even slipped in a cover of Björk’s “Undo,” which fit in perfectly with the haunting and sometimes desolate originals.

I’d seen Why? before, once as a band and once as a guest with Hood, reprising his role as an additional vocalist on songs from Cold House. This time, the band was back in force, with frontman Yoni’s brother Josiah on drums and vibraphone (usually at the same time, amazingly) and bass at one point, and a slew of additional keyboards, guitars, basses, and percussion being passed around the remaining musicians. The musicianship of the Why? live band is incredible, both for the range of instruments and the range of textures and tones they produced. Yoni switched off between glockenspiel, keyboards, bass, guitar, and a couple of drums and cymbals while singing. The brothers Wolf even split drum kit duties on one song, with Josiah playing the kick drum with his foot and Yoni playing cymbals and snare while he sang.While guitar and bass were prevalent, the vibraphone and glockenspiel took on a lead role in many of the songs, floating on top of a bed of warped synths and rhodes piano. Except for obscure gems like “Early Whitney” or “Darla,” they played all my favorite song, mostly from Elephant Eyelash and the new, stunning Alopecia. The full house demanded an encore, and got the only song that I was really hoping for, “By Torpedo or Crohn’s”.

Earlier in the evening, the soundman had been playing C&C Music Factory between sets, that combined with the all ages crowd and darkened room to give me a feeling like I was at a Junior High dance circa 1990. It was another of the night’s many odd pairings, but this one didn’t work as well as the other musical matchups did, for reasons that are probably obvious.

Daedelus @ Nectar

When Daedelus came through town last year, on tour with Caural, he ended up playing a pretty sparsely attended show on a Sunday night at Chop Suey, and despite the lack of bodies in the room, he turned out an excellent, high energy set. I wasn’t sure how this show would turn out; the day before Thanksgiving, one of the worst travel days of the year, bitterly cold. There were plenty of reasons for people to skip out on this show, and it would’ve been pretty shitty for an artist as talented as Daedelus to play two consecutively undersold shows in Seattle.

I was pleasantly surprised when the main floor at Nectar started to fill up during the opening DJ set. I didn’t catch the name of the DJ, but his set of quirky hip-hop and electro was a nice intro to the evening. By the time AntiMC took the stage, the venue was getting to be well filled out. Sadly, AntiMC didn’t really keep the momentum of the evening going, with an uninspiring but mercifully short set of aimless hip-hop instrumentals

But the room was packed when Daedelus took the stage, armed with a  laptop, a controller keyboard, and his famous Monome prototype, a “machine that runs on good will, so make some noise, as the hip-hop kids say.”

Noise was certainly made. He kicked his set of with a reinterpretation of “Pure Imagination,” from the Charlie & the Chocolate Factory soundtrack, and then proceeded to burn through 45 minutes of loopy hip-hop built around samples from old movie scores, samba beats, acid bass, and assorted sonic detritus. It was a similar set to the one he played last year, but way more refined and confident. He’s got his Monome set-up down cold, and plays it like an old familiar instrument. It’s great seeing live electronic music performed with such gusto, and in a way that’s somewhat accessible, exposing some degree of the inner workings to the audience. Definitely cuts down on the “he’s just checking his e-mail up there” jeering from the rock kids.

We didn’t even bother sticking around for Busdriver. He’s good, but I don’t think he could have topped Daedelus that night (as one audience member yelled, before Daedelus’ encore: “I came for Busdriver, but I was wrong!”). And I wasn’t looking forward to hearing AntiMC doing the backing beats. Oh well, it was definitely a worthwhile show, even without seeing the supposed headliner.

Discontent

It feels like Seattle again suddenly. Meaning, of course, that the slightly damp, often gray film of precipitation that we live with for 2/3 of the year has made it’s return, almost immediately after a run of abnormally high temperatures. We’ve gone from sleeping with the sheets thrown off and the windows open, to huddled under a comforter in a matter of days. But on the upside, that means more excuse for afternoon tea and comfy sweaters. And scarves, soon enough.

So this winter has been dubbed the Winter of Discontent, for reasons I’ll leave alone. Though I will say that it involves a lot of tumult and discord and struggle, mostly in immediate social circles, but seemingly in the world at large as well. If I were into astrology, I’m sure I could point to celestial evidence of some great unraveling, puring entropy down upon us. I’m not, so I can’t.

Before we hunker down for a dark winter, there are some bright spots. Decibel Festival is this weekend. I’m not sure if I’ll end up as a volunteer again or if I’ll have to shell out for the festival pass, but either way it’ll be worth it. A little escapism will be nice, and the four on the floor beats and ambient soundscapes should provide plenty. Then there’s Maui. Soon, just a short little hop over and a how-you-doing, drinking Mai Tais on the beach before returning to the Seattle gloom.

Naturally, all of this is just preparation for an even colder and more far flung New Year. But more about that later. Layer up and keep your kettle ready, kids.

Battles @ The Crocodile

I’m surprised it took me over a year of living in Seattle to make it to a show at the Crocodile Cafe. The venue is somewhat legendary, known for having appeared in the quintessential 90s Seattle movie Singles and for being co-owned by REM’s Peter Buck.

The reason I finally made it, after missing many a great show, was to see Battles.

Their recently released full length debut, Mirrored, has been at the top of my obsessive-rotation playlist since it was released, and I’d already missed the band back in San Francisco when they opened for Prefuse 73. I was basically a fan before I heard a single note of the band, and by the time I checked out their first EPs, I was sold.

Fortunately, the live show didn’t disappoint in any way. If anything, it made me an even bigger fan. The sheer virtuosity with which they manage their massive pile-up of gear puts them far above most of their peers. Among their bag of tricks: simultaneous guitar and keyboard playing, live looping of every instrument in their arsenal, pitch-shifted vocals, using a compact mixer like a volume pedal…and of course, a ridiculously tall crash cymbal stand.

Not only are they inventive and skilled, but their stage presence is cool and calm, with every intricately choreographed arrangement seeming completely effortless. Watching Ian Williams and Tyondai Braxton do their one-hand-on-guitar, one-hand-on-keyboard thing at the same time without breaking a sweat or furrowing a brow was pretty astrounding.

Besides technical prescision, they have a total mastery of the propulsive energy behind their songs. John Stanier is to be given the lion’s share of the credit for this, with his heavy, clockwork drumming. He’s solid and metronomic, but not at a cost to his creativity. My favorite theory regarding his 7′ cymbal stand is that it forces an element of restraint into the music. Having to reach high above the rest of the kit makes you leave that cymbal for the really dramatic moments, rather than relying on it as punctuation.

For the first half of the show, Ian Williams’ elderly aunt was standing in front of us, enjoying the show with her earplugs in and a beer in one hand. I think maybe the  pounding math rock got to be too much for her midway through, although if she’d heard her nephew’s previous work with Don Caballero or Storm & Stress, it shouldn’t have been too surprising.