Atlas Applauded

When I started seeing show listings for Atlas Clothing, the little vintage/boutique/thrift clothing shop off Broadway, I sort of wondered what was up. Did they just shove the clothing racks aside, and do it like a record store? I missed a couple of opportunities to check it out when This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb and The Micrphones came through, but I finally had the full Atlas experience last night, with The Americas and I Love You Avalanche.

The venue isn’t actually in Atlas’ retail space, as I learned when I approached the door. It’s actually around the back, in the loading bay accessible from the alley. The interior is done up in total DIY style, with a bare wooden stage decorated by a robot sculpture an christmas lights, a mixing booth for loew-powered 2-speaker PA system in the loft, and a curtain made of sewn together cartoon character bedsheets hiding the actual storage space. All in all, it’s a very charming space that seems out of place in such an urban setting. It would almost be more at home in someone’s garage in the suburbs.

I came in as Leaves Sleaves were finishing their set (with a cover of “Against All Odds,” no less). Featuring 2 guitars, 2 trumptes, cello, keyboards, and drums, they were quite the sight to behold. The original material I heard was actually quite good, though the horn players weren’t quite in tune and the vocals were pretty low in the mix. I Love You Avalanche, featuring the Leaves Sleaves cellist on guitar and vocals, along with a pair of multi-instrumentalists and some pre-recorded drum machine, was dangerously sweet. They’re the kind of band who could rot your teeth and kill diabetics in the space of an hour. Despite a handful of technical glitches, their stripped down indie folk won over pretty much the entire room. I couldn’t help but think of P:ano during their set, actually.

But oh, The Americas. I can’t believe how good this duo is, let alone how loud. They’ve gotten a lot better since last time I saw them a year or two ago, and that’s saying a lot. Their fierce, frenetic math rock has all the right ingredients of mid-90s emo (before that word was reduced to signifying mopey guitar pop, white belts and bad hair), combined with the exploratory  aspirations of noise-, math-, and post- rock. They play dense, epic music that sounds improvised, but is actually pretty tightly structured in closer examination. I find it hard to believe that they haven’t been snapped up by some label somewhere. Not that I think they’d bechart-topping megastars or anything, but they’d fit pretty comfortably in a niche label’s roster.

I guess it was definitely worth staying up late and only getting 5 hours of sleep in order to attend. I don’t feel any worse for the wear today, at least.

Summeresque

Is it at all possible for there to have been better weather in Seattle in April than we had last night? I think not.It was definitely happy-hour-on-a-patio weather. Sadly the War Room was closed, and service at Bill’s Off Broadway was surly to say the least (we can’t sit outside because you don’t want to walk outside to take our order? Even though there are already four tables seated there? You’re kidding me…). Luckily, King’s Hardware in Ballard came to the rescue, and while we couldn’t fight our way to a seat on the patio, we got a nice corner table near the door, complete with breeze.

And there’s certainly no lack of things to do for the rest of the weekend. Sakura Con is happening as I type this, so we’ll be going out to people watch at some point this evening I’m sure. We missed Lightning Bolt at Vera last night, after hearing discouraging rumours about a line forming at 7:00 for the 150-capacity venue, but finding out that the Americas are playing at Atlas Clothing on Sunday almost makes up for it. I’ll see an insane rock duo at some point this weekend!

Oh, and I just bought my plane ticket to San Francisco for APE later this month. Should be a good palette cleanser after the tights-and-capes fest that was Emerald City Comicon. APE is the only reason I’ve been back to California for two years in a row, and this year Bryan Lee O’Malley and Hope Larson will be in attendance, making it especially enticing.

I think that’s about it for now. Time for a trip to the library, perhaps. More later…

Deerhoof @ Neumo’s

The Deerhoof show at Neumo’s was pretty impressive, despite two obstacles to my enjoyment. First off, even though I had a +1 slot on the guest list, I had to fly solo. It was for a good reason, as Serene was in serious need of some rest and recuperation from a pretty shitty week, and my back-up guest couldn’t make it, but it would have been nice to be there with someone. The second impediment was the new layout for Neumo’s, while the Bad Juju is under renovation. It was all ages show, so the only bar service was in the balcony area, which is rather short on space, meaning a rush up the stairs between each set, and limited viewing space. Oh, the indignities one must tolerate.

But the music itself (you know, the actual reason for a show) was top notch, so it was all worthwhile in the end.

Leti Angel opened up, and at first glance I wasn’t expecting to be impressed. But they caught my attention right off the bat, with forceful vocals, big hooks, and some unique vocal looping effects. They also managed to keep my attention through their entire set, which you have to admit is sort of unusual for unheard-of opening bands. The vocal looping could have been a gimmick, but they managed to find creative uses for it in each song making it an integral part of the music, rather than window dressing.

Black Black was on next, and took the stage to general confusing from the audience. Understandably so, as it was a three piece band of white kids painted black from head to toe. Someone even asked them from the balcony why they were in blackface, and their singer responded that they were actually supposed to be “shadows.” Speaking of gimmicks, right? Despite the dubious bid for attention, the music was not bad, a sort of naive indie-pop sound that could be likened to The Blow, perhaps.

The main event was Deerhoof, of course. By they time their set arrived, the entire venue was packed, from the back exit to the edges of the balcony, and I don’t think there was a single disappointed fan by the night’s end. It was my first time seeing the band, so I can’t comment on any differences between their current show as a three piece, and their old four-piece incarnation, but I was pretty impressed. They sound good on record, but there’s something about seeing them, playing off-kilter music with such precision and power, that brings the show to a whole new level. Even with a restricted view fromt he back of the room I could appreciate their mastery of their instruments (especially drummer Greg Saunier) and material. Most of their songs were played in blocks of 3 or 4, with minimal transitions. They make it sound like they’re teetering on the brink of chaos and flailing out of control, when nothing could be further from the truth. Seeing them pull it off gave me a whole new appreciation for the band. Not a bad experience for a free show, especially one with two strikes against it going it.

Mind. Blown.

I’ve been at Decibel Festival pretty much all weekend, listening to and witnessing some of the best in boundary-pushing audio-visual performance, and loving the fact that so many incredible international artists are playing within walking distance of my apartment. Seriously, how many places could host a sold out crowd for ambient music? It’s incredible. I’ll be posting more about the Fest over at Vox later on, including photos and a snippet of video from Thomas Fehlmann’s performance. But right now, I’m at work, listening to KEXP, and after a weekend full of forward thinking experimental music, all this guitar pop sounds…cliche. Conventional. It’s going to take me a while to re-adjust my ears to hearing normally again.

Busy Times Ahead

Looks like the next couple of weeks will be hectic as hell. Bumbershoot is this weekend, and we’ll be entertaining come guests from Cali as well. Hoping to catch a few bands, like Mates of State, Blondie, A Tribe Called Quest, Spoon, and more. We’ve got a new digital camera too, so expect to see lots of documentation on Flickr!

Then, next week is the Decibel Festival, Seattle’s electronic music festival with a panty-wetting lineup of artists from around the globe (Apparat! Telefon Tel Aviv! Mokira! Subtle! The Dead Texan!) and plenty of local Seattle and Portland talent! Looks like Serene and I will both be volunteering for this event. Which apparently means all the Red Bull we can drink! Which is good, since some of the events go all night. Literally!

I so can’t wait. I think I might explode.

A Silver Mt. Zion @ Neumo’s

I neglected to buy a ticket in advance for this show, and was a little worried it was going to be sold out. We didn’t even make it down to Neumo’s until around 10, after a stop at Vain to view the opening of the Grafitti Mosiacs art show, and a drink at Virginia Inn in Belltown. So when we arrived, I was delighted to not only see that tickets were available, but to have V-Ray pay for me and Serene. Mad appreciation.

The crowd inside was odd. It was a mix of all sorts, from the kids in the all-ages balcony to the fratty looking guys in the audience text messaging and pushing their way to the front, to guy who was dancing like it was Pentecost. Not to mention the older folks who clung to the back.

Carla Bozulich opened, and while I was interested in what she was doing (and int he feedback her electric bassist was getting during the second number, while the string sectionw as bowing up a frenzy), it wasn’t quite the right atmosphere to fully appreciate the textures of her music. So we retired to the adjoining Bad JuJu Lounge briefly.

We managed to get pretty decents spots for ASMZ (or, more appropriately, The Silver Mount Zion Memorial Orchestra and Tra-La-La Band, as they’re now known, the seven piece Godspeed You Black Emperor spinoff group). Decent visuals of most of the band, not too close to the speakers, not super far back. They played a mix of older material and nwere material I wasn’t familiar with, but all of which I enjoyed greatly. Opening with “God Bless Our Dead Marines” and grinding their way through a set of long, multi-sectioned pieces, they had the audience absolutely enthralled. With two guitars, two violins, cello and double bass, and drums, there was never a lack of something to focus on. And several of their songs ended or peaked in full-band vocal rounds and hymn-like choruses, something rarely seen, that they pulled off excceptionally.

I wasn’t expecting them to be as LOUD as they were. I can’t imagine even seeing that band without ear plugs, and that was before they pulled out all the stops for the screeching, droning, feedback drenched finale, with most of the band leaning against amps or coazing squalls out of delay pedals. IT was pretty amazing to behold.

I don’t think Godspeed will ever be back with a new album or tour, but ASMZ picks up where they left off, breaks their formulas, and brings back the epic grandeur they’re known for. So it’s not a total loss. If this is the new flagship of that loose collective, so be it. It suits them well.

Scattershot

Goddamn. The Capitol Hill Block Party. Or, as the chalkboard behind the bar in the Comet Tavern referred to it, the Capitalist Hill Block Party. Whatever you call it, it was a blast. For 24 measly dollars, I saw a ton of bands, including local faves Band of Horses, Sera Cahoone, Common Market, and Minus the Bear, plus out-of-towners like Silversun Pickups. Sure, some of the acts weren’t my cup of tea (Himsa, Murder City Devils, I’m looking at you!), but overall, it was well worth it. You take the good with the bad at these festivals, and in there was way more good to be had here than otherwise. I even took some pictures, although it’s somewhat telling that most of them are of us inside a bar…Serene has some better pictures up too.

Blogging has been slow here, though I’ve been blogging up a storm over at Vox. There’s something very easy and inviting about it. I think I’m hooked. I have an invite if you’d like to try it out…e-mail me. My first name at this domain.

Still planning on souping this site up a bit….eventually. I started a design I liked, and have since fallen out of love with, although I learned a few things while doing it, so it wasn’t a total waste. But I have a new idea to try out, soonish. I need to get the Adobe suite re-installed on my PC soon, so I can do some of the scanning I’ll need to do to make that design happen. Oh, and I picked up O’Reilly’s Programming PHP at Half Price Books last night, so that gives me some more tools to play around with (assuming I can find some time to sit down and get my hands dirty).

Blah blah….more later, as usual.

Fiery Furnaces @ Neumo’s

Unpredictability is the stock-in-trade of Brooklyn art-popsters The Fiery Furnaces. Four albums into their bewildering career (not including the singles collection EP), and they’ve already taken as many unexpected artistic left-turns as any of their famously fractured songs. Last night’s performance at Neumo’s was in perfect keeping with this restless and reckless tradition.

The brother/sister duo of Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger are on tour in support of their newest release, the challenging psychedelic travelogue album Bitter Tea, a companion to their previous, ill-received Rehearsing My Choir. The album is filled with backwards masked vocals, synths and tack pianos, and strange sonic flourishes of all sorts. So, in complete defiance of expectations, they went on the road with a four-piece lineup and played new songs and old in a deadpan punk style.

They were loud, raucous, fast, and completely lacking in the complex interplay of instruments that their records showcase, but something about the blistering sonic onslaught was exhilarating. I didn’t know what to expect going on, and this definitely wasn’t it. It was like the Stooges had taken Eleanor on tour with them. For most of the songs, the basic skeleton was kept in place, but all the parts had been rewritten in a heavier, riff-based style, keeping the lyrics and the rhythmic twists and turns as a framework.

All of their albums were represented in the set, starting with my personal favorite, “Chris Michaels” from Blueberry Boat, and winding through highlights from each record. For the most part, the songs were so radically altered that it was hard to tell what was what, until a recognizable lyric pushed through the noise. I’m still not sure if they were playing an extended version of “Tropical Iceland,” or if they just segued into it from another track I didn’t recognize.

It was a good set (and the encore, with a first ever live performance of “Bitter Tea,” at audience request, was a fun treat), but it was sort of bewildering and draining at the same time.

By contrast, opening band Man-Man instantly won over the crowd instantly, by demolishing stylistic boundaries and audience expectations. The 5-piece band played upwards of 20 instruments in all (let’s see…electric piano, synthesizer, xylophone, glockenspiel, electric guitar, bass, drums, pots and pans, 2 melodicas, 2 saxophones, trumpet and one other brass instrument I couldn’t identify, slide whistle, tambourine, gourd, spoons, kazoo-like noisemakers, and more) and cooked up a whirlwind of music that drew from the sounds of sea chanties, eastern European folk, circus music, afrobeat, Sousa marches, and other weird sources. It was energetic, fun music full of shouted gang vocals, animalistic growls and gibbering, and coordinated jumping. There was a little bit of Tom Wait’s, a little Muppet Show, a little Pirates of the Caribbean and Mr. Bungle…It was indescribable beyond that. Not the kind of music that I’d buy and listen to at home, but the kind of music that just HAS to be seen live.

I won’t say that Man-Man stole the show, but I will say this. I walked in not knowing to expect from either band, but after the show, it was clear that the Fiery Furnaces set was built on thwarting expectations and required some familiarity with their music. My enjoyment of their set was based on how different it was from their records, and how adventurous it was in light of that difference. In that sense, it was sort of an in-joke in a way…an in-joke that stands on it’s own well enough, but works better if you’re in on it. Man-Man however, works on a purely music-and-performance level, and made instant converts based solely on their high-spirited presence and polished, infectious music. There’s something that seems more universally appealing, but just as uncompromising, about that approach.

Sick Day = Blog Day

I worked a short day today, due to a head cold that’s wavering on the boundary of disappearing, but not quite ready to mosey along into the sunset. And so, since I’m home in the afternoon with nothing better to do, I guess it’s time to catch up on some blogging.

Saw TV on the Radio on Friday at the Showbox. The venue is nice, a very spacious theater with multiple bars (3 or 4?) and some interesting decor. I especially love the main support pillars that have blooming, floral structures just below the ceiling, lit bright red from somewhere inside the pillar. It’s a unique architectural touch that adds a classy, almost retro ambiance to the room. The band was awesome live, high energy and spot-on performances. The set seemed a little short, but I think that was just because I was blown away by what they’re playing. Time flies, and all that. But when they returned for an encore of “Staring at the Sun” and an incredible, beatboxed version of “Ambulance” (originally recorded as an a capella track) that “blown away”-ness got bumped to “truly next level.”

The next day was an exciting one too, for totally different reasons. I feel like I have a lot to say about that day, but everything’s been said so well here, by Serene, that I can’t think of anything I need to add, other than to reiterate the thanks to Tracy and Sean for welcoming me into a very intimate, incredible moment in their lives, and to Elliot Matthew, for making me gasp, cry, and smile, all uncontrollably.

Pretty much finished with my new Miniature Airlines EP. The mixdowns have been sent off and I have a date for mastering this Saturday. Which means that in the next week, in between a Mirah show and a Big Lebowski themed party, I really should try to get my cover art finished. I’ve got a start on it, but I’m not sure of what I’m going to do on the backside. Inspiration? Are you there? It’s me, Dylan…

More later.

Capitol Hill Tribute

This past Saturday, a party was held at the Seattle Center (site of the Space Needle and the Experience Music Project, for non-locals), a benefit and celebration dedicated to the victims of the recent Capitol Hill Murders. While the idea of seeing the victims’ community pull together and put on a communal display of remembrance and PLUR, I have to admit that the main attraction was the live performance by breakcore messiah Venetian Snares.

The day got off to a worrisome start though, as rain put a damper on the outdoor stage, and forced events inside. We came down for the kick-off, but the rain drove us away during happy hardcore DJ Jimni Cricket’s set (which wasn’t really my cup of tea anyways). Sadly, this meant we had to miss Calvin Johnson’s set, but we really weren’t prepared for the weather, and made plans to head back later.

By the time we returned, the event had been moved indoors, to the Food Court building, which was a rather surreal experience. We waited through a few DJ sets, including DJ Dan (with an accompanying three-person balancing act that was pretty breathtaking) and the incredibly animated Donald Glaude, and ran into fellow Em411 members The Square Root of Evil and Sohcahtoa, before the main (as far as we were concerned) event.

Venetian Snares was taking the stage as we returned from the nearby bar (yes, we got to drinking a liiiiiiittle early that day, sue me). The anticipation from the crowd was exciting to see…There had been a shift in the demographic of the crowd as the evening wore on, with the candy rave set slowly being replaced by an older, hipper (for lack of a better word) group, although the rave kids that were still there seemed equally excited. After a slowly building intro, featuring one of the orchestral tracks from Rossz Cillag Allat Sulletet, the breakbeat madness began in full effect. Instant chaos. splintered 240bpm Amen breakbeats echoed of the walls of the nearby Orange Julius and Starbucks, possibly the first and last time such a scene would ever occur. Security guards took to the front of the stage as an honest-to-god mosh pit broke out. The pit actually threatened to shut down the show (apparently they’re illegal in Seattle? WTF?), but the bewildered rent-a-cops didn’t bring that hammer down, fortunately. Aaron Funk, the twisted genius behind Snares, didn’t appear to care about any of that though, calmly fucking over the output of his CD turntables with a variety of digital effects and pitch-mangling.

Doormouse had the unenviable task of following up that devastating set, and was totally hamstrung by an unforgiving sound setup and a thinning crowd. He pulled of a workmanlike set full of interesting twists (live vocals and looping, lots of audio processing, and weird, weird songs), but didn’t seem to live up to his potential at this moment.

It was all over too soon, but the good news was delivered shortly thereafter: there was an after show featuring Doormouse and Venetian Snares (and KJ Sawka, who had been bumped for time reasons) at the Capitol Hill Arts Center (the venue that housed the infamous rave the evening prior to the shootings this event commemorated).

That show turned out to be the real main event of the day. The Lower Level section of CHAC is a 21+ venue in a tiny, low-ceilinged room, with an adjoining bar (where we ran into SROE and Sohcahtoa again, along with Umami and John). KJ Sawka started off by playing intense drum n’ bass with live drumming (Ho. Ly. Shit.) and triggered electronics. Watching him was amazing, sitting at a drum kit with a narrow, raised kick drum, two snares, and a multitude of small cymbals, all of which was draped with cables connected to a handful of percussion trigger pads, a laptop, and other gear. The crowd absolutely insisted he play an encore, and he obliged with a flurry of drum rolls and fills that sounded like a cavalcade of funk breaks played in double time.

Doormouse was much more at home in this setting, with much clearer sound and a more receptive audience. He also played a much harder set, with far more breakcore elements that his earlier set, and many other crazy non-sequitirs, like his spastic Tom Jones cover and sampled elements of Nightmare Before Christmas. The volume in the small room had also been cranked to a pummeling level by this time, contributing to the harsh feel of his music.

Even Venetian Snares topped his earlier set, playing harder, faster, more chaotic, and much darker material than he had at the Seattle Center (where he had apparently been forced to self-censor his more confrontational pieces), blazing through track after track with no breaks, and whipping the dancefloor into a total frenzy while he worked through a series of Heinekens handed to him from the crowd. Breakcore at it’s best is the death metal of the electronic world, and Aaron Funk made that comparison completely obvious and valid that night, by virtue of sheer extremity.

We left at 2am, ears ringing, and strolled home through the post last-call crowds on Capitol Hill, a melange of drunks from all social circles and sexualities scrambling to make that last-minute hook-up happen, or just trying to walk straight to some after hours party and avoid the vomit on the sidewalk. Something about that end to the evening just seemed to accentuate the life-affirming aspect of an evening at the extreme dark ends of the musical spectrum.