There was something wrong with the line-up for Wednesday night’s show at the Mercury Lounge. Somehow, in the process of setting up the time slots, someone inverted the list, forcing the most popular of the three, Toro Y Moi, to go first. The rotation, however, was the only thing wrong with the night.
At around 8pm the venue started packing up, forcing us all to take part in the bizarre, yet boring, antics of Philip Seymour Hoffman. When the lead singer whipped out a recorder and took off his clothes, I wasn’t sure whether I was being subjected to some Andy Kauffman-esq surreal humor, or if he seriously though this would get people into his show. Mercifully, Toro Y Moi took the stage without much of a set up time to cleanse the bad taste from our mouths. Toro Y Moi is the saving grace of the summertime/lo-fi/chillwave trend because of their driving rhythms, something that is extraordinarily apparent when they are live. The shimmery melodies and soft voice of leader Chaz Bundick swim overtop of the thick beats.
After Toro Y Moi completed their set and invited everyone to the after party, there was a sharp turn to cocky teen boy rock with Cloud Nothings. When I first heard the Cloud Nothings EPs, I was not impressed; all the songs sounded the same. After seeing them live, I am ready to give them another chance. The songs still bleed into each other live, but that is alright when the group is as energetic and committed to power pop as these guys. Cloud Nothings offered a blisteringly loud set of early Weezer type pop that made me wish that I had slapped on some Vans for the show instead of my hipster boots. It was fun and left a smile on my face, which is more than I can say for most bands.
The true injustice of the night was the scheduling of Indian Rebound at the end. By the time these underage boys had finally set up, there was a crowd of maybe twenty curious on-lookers. If only the line-up had been normal, these boys would have been given the audience they deserved, the audience that Philip Seymour Hoffman was greeted with.
When a band is full of kids so young, it’s hard not to listen to the music they make through the filter of their age. I’m sure a ton of reviews talk about how they make pretty great music, for being 15 and all. The fact of the matter is these kids are making good music regardless of their age. While they fall in the summery chill pop vein of countless other indie artists, the jittery metallic guitar sounds make them a refreshing break from the suffocating sameness of most indie bands. Indian Rebound deserved far bigger an audience for their show, and if it weren’t for the confusing schedule- they would have had one. Look for these kids in the future, because they can only get better with age.
It may surprise some of you, but we at The Wild Honey Pie weren’t born with spectacular taste. Taste, especially for music nerds, is a slow Lincoln Logs like journey- with artists and albums laying the foundation for the snarky music writer to come. So every month (or so) we writers will share with you the records that made us the snobs and geeks that we are today. These aren’t the most important records, or even favorite records, they are simply, our foundations.
I can remember the exact point that I listened to several earth shattering records. When I heardRadiohead’sOK Computer for the first time I was ten, at home in the living room with my dad, and was forced into a stunned silence within the first few bars of “Airbag.” Wilco’sYankee Hotel Foxtrot was first experienced in the car with my dad stopping every now and again to say, “holy shit, someone made this.” I cannot remember the first time I listened to Heartbreaker.
Ryan Adams was 25 when he recorded Heartbreaker, the first of his solo records. He was in the middle of disbanding his first band Whiskeytown, had just moved from South Carolina to New York City and had been through a particularly terrible break up. It is a painful, emotionally tumultuous record. The opening tracks, an argument over a Morrissey song followed by the upbeat “To Be Young (is to be sad, is to be High)” offer the only joyous moments on the record. “To be Young” is fun on the surface but, in the end, it is also a window to the horrible substance abuse and pain that was a part of Adams’ life for so long.
Lyrics have always been Adams’ strong point, though his gift for melody and despair ridden voice should be given just as much credit for the musical punches that he creates. “Come Pick Me Up,” the most popular song from the record, shows his talents off brilliantly. Every note he sings aches, the melody groans and the words hit you in the gut like only the pain of loving the wrong person can. Heartbreaker’s magic comes from making even the most grizzled and hollow listener feel empathetic.
Heartbreaker is not earth shattering; it is not the kind of record that makes music sound hard to do or is anything entirely revolutionary. It is the kind of record, however, that gets under your skin. It buries itself in you until you know all the songs, until you have three Ryan Adams posters on your wall, until you are suddenly an expert in Alt Country (whatever that is)[1]. I do not remember the first time I listened to Heartbreaker, but I remember crying to “In My Time of Need” in the throes of a toxic relationship, I remember dancing to “To Be Young (is to be sad, is to be high)” with my best friend before she moved to Switzerland, I remember singing the harmonies to “Come Pick Me Up” with my Dad.
[1] Thanks to No Depression for that catch phrase.
When Alex Schaaf aka Yellow Ostrich took the stage at Mercury Lounge last night without his shoes on, I muttered to my friend, “ooooo, I like him.” When he started playing, soaring, looping melodies with primal beats, my crush developed. When he introduced a song by saying, “This song is called Fog. It’s about…fog,” I turned into a giggling sixteen year old girl.
The evening started out with a set from Boston’s Echo Kings, a group of pretty faced boys that sound like the indie pop version of The Fray. The lyrics were predictable, but the lead singer and keyboardist had enough charisma to pull it all together. After a 45 minute set from Echo Kings, culminating in a not-a-note-different cover of Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall (Pt. 2)” complete with faux British accents, it was finally time for Yellow Ostrich to take the stage.
For those of you who took the advice of my fellow honey pie Nicole, you have already purchasedYellow Ostrich’s album Mistress on BandCamp and know that they are amazing. Live, the music is just as good; it’s just as rich and interesting, however, the flow of the set was slightly off. While I am sure live shows have gotten easier with the addition of drummer Mike Tapper (We Are Scientists,Bishop Allen), there are still downfalls to making as much sound as Schaaf does all on his own, namely there is a lull between songs. The computer turned off once, though it was back on within less than a minute and the duo was playing again, right where they left off. Still, Alex’s easy charm and the overall quality of the music allows him to overcome this tiny obstacle and turn us all into highly impressed, and smitten 16 year old girls.
At the end of the night, Schaaf noted that the crowd at Mercury Lounge was the largest that they have ever played. The duo starts a residency playing at Pianos in February, playing every Thursday for the month. Let’s hope that each of those shows is a new record in audience attendance for them. They sure as hell deserve it.
Few words inspire more fear in me than “the first album in [blank] years.” These albums tend to be hollow re-enactments of former glory that try to hold on to fame that was once there but is now missing. For every band that reunites and creates another great album, like Sunny Day Real Estate’sRising Tide, there is a Smashing Pumpkins’Zeitgeist. So when I heard that my favorite band of all time, Gang of Four, was getting back together and releasing their first new album of original material in more than ten years, I was nervous to say the least.
Post-punkers Gang of Four is the band everyone copied. With fiery creativity and individuality, their best album, Entertainment!, still sounds like nothing else even more than 30 years after its release. The rhythmic guitar, chanting vocals, metallic sound and bass lines that sound like they were ripped out of a Rick James song influenced countless artists. They wrote songs that were political essays, inflammatory theory and jagged as a piece of broken glass.
They were four art school kids from Leeds lead by the genius Andy Gill and John King who had a knack for describing culture in all its disgusting glory. Along with The Mekons, The Fall, The Slits,Public Image LTD, and The Buzzcocks, they brought on the post-punk revolution of the late 70s and early 80s. Gang of Four was one of the most important punk bands ever, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise.
With a discography that includes some of the best punk records ever recorded, why would the original line up come back to record more in their mid-forties. I couldn’t take a mid-life crisis from these men, they mean way too much to me. Luckily for everyone, there is no mid-life crisis music involved. The newest album, Content, is being released on January 24, 2011, and if it is anything like the free EP and singles available on their website, they haven’t lost their touch.
The new tracks are filled with the same sound and relentless energy that they had when they were in their twenties. The first single I heard off the album, “You’ll Never Pay for the Farm”, filled me with a rush of adrenaline, the same kind that rushes through me every time I listen to the classic “Anthrax”. It’s like no time has passed at all. They are still creative, still genius. They still sound reckless and new. They still sound fucking relevant.
When the VH1 historians look back on 2010 in the inevitable edition of “I love the Twenty-Teens”, there will be one pop song that they will absolutely have to include. The one song still played in dance clubs and at parties and the one song remembered as the soundtrack of the summer: Robyn’s “Dancing on My Own.” Instantly infectious, joyous and never boring, it’s quite possibly the most pristine pop gem ever to worm its way into our ears. It forces you to dance, and when you’re done, I’ll be damned if you aren’t pressing repeat to listen to it again.
The main thing I noticed about Body Talk, the full-length collection of songs released on the three Body Talk EPs, is that every damn song is like “Dancing on My Own”. Every song is an immaculate gumdrop of quirky pop. Everything from the icy and odd tones of “Fembot,” to the swagger on “Don’t Fucking Tell Me What to Do” and the power of “Indestructible” not only get you dancing, but are also tiny adjustments to what pop music should be.
Each song is an experiment – a different way of communicating elation and heartbreak – and each song gets you moving on the floor. These songs weren’t produced on a factory belt to sell copies and get played in clubs; they were thoughtfully produced by a woman with personality. That’s why the songs on Body Talk will be played in the clubs ten and twenty years from now. They are not only great pop songs, they are great songs.
Maybe it is the seven or so years that I worked retail, but I really can’t stand Christmas music. Every time I hear the joyous bells and sappy vocals of Christmas songs, I flash back to standing in front of an angry, yelling mob forgoing kindness in favor of holiday stress. It’s scary. Even for those who haven’t worked during the Christmas season, the constant radio play of these songs for two straight months is enough to drive anyone insane. Yet, sometimes there are songs that rise above the disgusting gaudiness and sugar coating of Christmas and make even the most hardened cynic among us embrace the season. So as our own little gift to you, The Wild Honey Pie presents ten songs, five classics and five soon-to-be-classics. Enjoy the list and as Evil Robot Santa says, “get jolly on your naughty asses.”
——————————————————————————– 1. “I Wish it was Christmas Today” — Julian Casablancas ——————————————————————————–
[NEW] Like every good indie girl, I am head over heels in love with Julian Casablancas. When he actually recorded, with only a bit of winking, a song from an SNL sketch, I somehow fell even more in love. Best known as a sketch where (surprise) Jimmy Fallon couldn’t stop laughing, Casablancas turned a song that was once just a uke and a keyboard into a rocking song you can even listen to in July.
———————————————————————————— 2. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” — Judy Garland ————————————————————————————
[TIMELESS] The ultimate classic, listening to Judy’s iconic voice quiver and shake is enough to bring a tear to any eye. She captures all the hope and promise of Christmas and when she sings, “next year all our troubles will be miles away.” The longing in her voice makes you almost believe that the fates will allow for everyone to be together and for the suffering to stop. And that’s what Christmas is all about, forgetting the pain of the world, if only for a day.
——————————————————————————– 3. “Reindeer” — The Knife ——————————————————————————–
[NEW] What is Christmas time without some electro from Sweden? Reindeer is dark and brooding, like all songs by The Knife, but they sing about Santa and make you want to dance! It is a dark picture of Santa who doesn’t look like he is going to finish delivering the goods, but just like good experimentalists, The Knife follows the big guy to the end.
——————————————————————————– 4. “Blue Christmas” — Elvis Presley ——————————————————————————–
[TIMELESS] No Christmas is complete until those “oohs” coo over the speakers. This is one of the ultimate Christmas classics, and even a hundred years from now, this song will still mark the start of the season. Just like Judy, joy and heartbreak are conveyed in the King’s voice. The beginning is probably one of the most iconic first few bars in any song, much less a Christmas song—and it’s guaranteed to make everyone listening happy.
——————————————————————————– 5. “Christmas Song” — The Raveonettes ——————————————————————————–
[NEW] The Raveonettes giant, fuzzy sound works perfectly for Christmas music. The magnitude of the noise wraps around you, while the pretty harmonies keep you warm. It is enough to make you pour just one more cup of really strong eggnog and stay wherever you are just a bit longer.
[TIMELESS] Yeah, that’s right, Slade made a Christmas song. This is apparently a classic Christmas song in the UK, which goes to show that the UK has awesome taste. Unlike most of the best classic Christmas songs, this one is has no heartbreak — just pure joy. It’s a giant, sing-a-long-a-the-bar song. I mean, seriously, the chorus is “Everybody’s having fun.”
[NEW] I had to put some incarnation of “What Child is This” on the list. Based on Green Sleeves, there are some seriously creepy minor harmonies that make the verse about the horrible way the baby will die even freakier. Sufjan Stevens, with his talent for extraordinary instrumentation and lullaby voice, amps up the haunting, but makes it a lot easier to listen to.
——————————————————————————– 8. “The Christmas Song” — Frank Sinatra ——————————————————————————–
[TIMELESS] Again, no list is complete without some of Frank Sinatra. “The Christmas Song” always struck me as a really smarmy song. I don’t know exactly why, but it sounds like a cheap seduction. Leave it to Frank to make what was once slimy and gaudy, charming and smooth. He makes this go down even smoother than the fine scotch he’s drinking.
——————————————————————————– 9. “Hey Parker, It’s Christmas” — Ryan Adams ——————————————————————————–
[NEW] Having just moved to New York City, I am still sort of awestruck at how much New York loves Christmas- and how well the season fits the city. There is something so perfect about the streets, the cabs and the lights for the season. Ryan Adams captures what Christmas in New York City looks like while reminding us that before he married Mandy Moore, he was with Parker Posey.
——————————————————————————– 10. “Linus and Lucy” — Vince Guraldi Trio ——————————————————————————–
[TIMELESS] You didn’t think I forgot Charlie Brown Christmas did you? That jazz piano is how every Christmas party at my house starts and is the only song I absolutely have to listen to on Christmas morning. While there is nothing spectacularly Christmas-y about it, apart from its inclusion in a TV special, everyone still knows exactly what it means and where it fits. In that way, “Linus and Lucy” is the perfect Christmas song.
When asked to choose my favorite moments of Sasquatch 2011 I draw a blank, there were too many. Too many sets I loved, too many moments of pure glee- so instead I decided to give away a list of Hannah Angst certified Sasquatch Awards:
Best Rally After an Infinitely Long Soundcheck:
Robyn: Seriously, that sound check was so long that it was almost a surprise when she began performing. Granted, when she did arrive onstage, she managed to make me forget that I had waited almost 45 minutes for her, and she ate a banana in a really angry/sexual way. As promised, the fit I had when she played “Dancing on my Own” looked epileptic. People were probably worried.
Best Moment that Made me Swoon:
The Antlers playing “No Widows”: I want this song to impregnate me- and hearing it live, coming out of Peter Silberman’s mouth and somehow sounding just as gorgeous and even more sincere than the album was, for lack of a better word, orgasmic.
Best Moment No One Saw:
Reggie Watts Eating Frosting off Wayne Coyne’s Fingers: Since it was the tenth birthday of Sasquatch, Ace of Cakes made a giant cake for the festival and had a bunch of guests out to sing “Happy Birthday”. Well, Wayne Coyne threw that cake into the crowd, then Reggie Watts decided lick up the frosting. I know this happened because when I ran into Reggie Watts and asked, he remembered doing it.
Best Pleasant Surprise:
Pepper Rabbit: I saw these guys open up for The Submarines a while back and thought they were great, but I had no recollection of them being this good. They played an early afternoon set on Saturday, and the crowd was much bigger than anyone anticipated. Their adorable nervousness allowed them to feed off the crowd’s buzz and put on a spectacular and memorable show.
Best Unexpectedly Giant Audience:
Foster the People: Holy balls! I knew they were generating a lot of buzz, and listening to their albumTorches on the way to the festival definitely got me excited to see them, but no one was expecting the kind of crowd they garnered. It was epically big for a band playing on the smallest stage. They seemed awe struck at the size and energy of the crowd, and channeled that awe into an amazing and entertaining set.
Runner Up: Reggie Watts
Sure, his unique brand of comedy, music and beat boxing loops deserved a giant audience, but the small Banana Shack was packed to the gills for Watts’ afternoon set. I like to think it was because they were all giant Comedy Death Ray Radio fans.
Best Taking Down of Annoying People:
Hari Kondabolu: He added the white girls wearing feather headdresses (a really annoying trend that was especially popular at Sasquatch) to his list of people that will die in the coming revolution. He didn’t stop there either, making sure to get in some good jabs at the assholes that were littering during the festival. Best of all, it was hilarious and not at all didactic.
Biggest Let Down:
Me seeing a Decembrists acoustic set instead of White Denim: I got into the Redlaser acoustic tent for what I thought was going to be a great Decembrists acoustic set. What I got was a 45 minute sound check and three songs from a band that did not look like they wanted to be there. What I missed was a set from a lauded new band that apparently blew everyone away (except me.)
Most Hilarious On Stage Antics:
Guided by Voices: Robert Pollard is not a man who has aged very well. He is, however, a man who still does really strained high kicks, has a cooler full of beer and white wine with him onstage and has stage hands light his cigarettes.
Most Fucking Fun:
!!!: I’m assuming this was as much fun for people in the crowd as it was in the photo pit. When lead singer Nic Offer told the security not to kick the photographers out after three songs because he would have some surprises for us, I shook with glee. Spoiler: I was not taking pictures during “Must Be the Moon,” I was dancing.
Best Set to Sleep Off a Raging Box Wine Hangover:
Beach House: This is not a slight to the great set that Beach House played. It was gorgeous, airy and a perfect soundtrack to take in the beautiful scenery and beautiful day. The simple, overwhelming wonderfulness of the whole thing, coupled with the liter and a half of box wine, carried me off to sleep.
Best Moment I Will Look Back on to Ease the Coming Darkness:
Wilco opening up their set with “Ashes of the American Flags”: The giant storm cloud that was threatening to ruin my most anticipated set of the weekend receded, and my favorite band ever came out to sing my favorite song ever. It was the perfect ending to a fantastic weekend. Wilco’s set, and specifically this song, was pure magic.
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