Joomla! site syndication http://monteciorock.org 2010-03-10T10:58:16+01:00 http://monteciorock.org http://monteciorock.org/images/M_images/joomla_rss.png text/html 2008-10-25T20:40:00+01:00 http://monteciorock.org http://monteciorock.org/content/view/1/28/ Photos by Ahmed Klink (http://www.noahm.com/); Above: Sian Alice Group Marc Hogan's coverage: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Amy Phillips' coverage: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Jessica Suarez's coverage: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Sian Alice Group [Santos Party House; 10:30 p.m.]I don't know why Sian Alice Group haven't played more here-- it's impossible to think singer Sian (pronounced like "Shawn," I finally learned) Ahern doesn't want to be seen. She's really pretty stunning: straight black hair and cheekbones like small glaciers. The rest of the Group were equally cool; they didn't let the numerous sound problems (feedback, crackling cords, muddled sound) bother them much. On record, their songs tend to unfurl like smoke, their quiet repetition drawing out subtle (or imagined) shifts. But in person, Sian Alice Group were not nearly as mellow or subtle-- minute-long noise parcels started or ended tracks, pulse-like drum beats pounded out songs that I expected to fade away. Their tracks don't like to be pried apart-- each instrument clings to the next like transparent film-- but I could finally see where the sounds come from and how the songs are built. Psychic Ills [Santos Party House; 11:30 p.m.] Santos Party House was crowded by the time the stage guy unrolled the velvet curtain for Psychic Ills. The band's first job was to calm people down, I think: bassist Elizabeth Hart paced at the front of the stage with a string of bells draped over her shoulders, keyboardist Jimmy Seitang waved incense over the crowd. Sound problems continued here-- Psychic Ills sounded muted and dulled when they should have been a little sharper (the bands didn't have time for a soundcheck). They're far from my favorite Social Registry band but I did like the moments when they'd speed and slow down the beat, like a queasy Kevin Shields guitar effect. Growing [Santos Party House; 12:30 a.m.] I saw Growing open for Hot Chip a few weeks back and an audience member yelled "Hot Chip!" from their first song to their last. They had an easier time and a more sympathetic audience tonight. Without anticipating Hot Chip's pop-songs-trying-to-be-something-else, it's clearer that Growing's great at transforming guitars into a hundred different beats and melodies, slurpy squelch and little fireworks. Gang Gang Dance [Santos Party House; 1:30 a.m.] By the time Gang Gang Dance started, it was already an hour or so past their scheduled set-up-- notable only because CMJ sets usually start right on time. By now it was hot, by now the dirtbags around me-- and dirtbags love Gang Gang Dance just as much as noise faces-- were starting to ferment from their between-set dancing. A guy next to me smelled like a kid's backpack at the end of the school year. But talking about how people smell at Gang Gang Dance shows is as old as talking about how close/not close the group is to making pop songs. There are lots of people making great pop songs already-- singer Liz Bougatsos had three of them on the Missy Elliott/Beyoncé/Alicia Keys tour t-shirt she was wearing. What I like the most now is just how much better they are than when I saw them a couple of years back, how much chirpier and less gloomy they've become. Santos Party House is basically speakers divided by a dance floor, and people danced a lot, which would have been impossible at a Gang Gang Dance show in 2006. text/html 2008-10-25T20:10:00+01:00 http://monteciorock.org http://monteciorock.org/content/view/2/28/ Photos by Francis Chung (http://www.seeingaspects.com/); Above: Róisín Murphy Marc Hogan's coverage: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Amy Phillips' coverage: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Jessica Suarez's coverage: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Róisín Murphy [Mansion; 9:30 p.m.] A costume change is just another well-choreographed dance move for Irish dance-pop chanteuse Róisín Murphy. Making her U.S. solo debut, the former lead singer for trip-hoppy duo Moloko switched fanciful outfits-- a silvery space-knight ensemble, an angelic-shaped furry coat, a crow-like black coat with a hunchback, and, oh yeah, all kinds of great hats-- more times than I could count, often beginning right on stage, in mid-song. Backed by a pair of smartly choreographed female singers plus guitarist, live drummer, bass player, and electronics guru, she commanded the audience at this Chelsea nightclub with her shimmying, expert stage presence. "I'M SOW INTO YOU," screamed one fan's handmade sign. The disco balls on the ceiling were nice, too, and appropriate. The music, you ask? Murphy's Matthew Herbert-produced solo debut, 2005's Ruby Blue, and the follow-up, last year's Overpowered-- neither has been released in America-- are driven by a similarly intricate sense of style, matching the shiny pulse of early cosmic disco to the r b sensuality and tech-jazz micro-edit intricacy of contemporary avant-pop. In concert, no amount of energetic dancing could dim Murphy's smoldering vocals, in a set that relied mostly on material from Overpowered and only one song, "Forever More", from Moloko. The sound system at the Mansion was immaculate, a CMJ rarity, delivering every drum hit with clear, granular, body-shaking intensity. Hell, Murphy rocked, headbanging during a heavy metal coda to underscore the point of Overpowered's hyper-intelligent nothin'-but-mammals come-on "Primitive". There was no "If We're in Love", a staff favorite from Ruby Blue, and a few of the more hypnotic house cuts dragged on a bit long for a pop show rather than a club night, but any admirer of Murphy's records couldn't help but leave impressed. And not just by her fashion sense. The Dutchess and the Duke [Pianos; 11 p.m.] Low-key Seattle folk-pop duo the Dutchess and the Duke are the perfect kind of band to stumble onto by accident. After the Longest Manhattan Cab Ride Ever (it's official, we checked), Francis and I weren't sure we were going to make it to Piano's in time to catch Oxford Collapse, scheduled for 10:30 p.m., and when these punk veterans started their set around a half an hour after that time, we weren't even sure at first who we were seeing. With casually well-crafted songs that sound like Rubber Soul done the Vaselines' way-- and a comfortable, super-cool onstage camaraderie-- singer/guitarists Kimberly Morrison and Jesse Lortz quickly made themselves known. A mop-topped tambourine/maraca player accompanied them on tunes about fortune tellers and fucking in phone booths, from their Hardly Art debut, She's the Dutchess, He's the Duke. The occasional flubbed note, like Morrison's slyly barbed banter, only helped to cement a bond with an audience who all felt like the band's friends (for all I know, they were). It was Morrison's birthday; everybody sang. Oxford Collapse [Pianos; 12 a.m.] "Don't fondle our bass player's legs while he's trying to play the most intricate bass line he's ever written," Oxford Collapse singer/guitarist Michael Pace quipped at one point during the Brooklyn post-college rockers' set. I don't often find myself listening to these guys when I'm not covering them, but I've always given them the benefit of the doubt: Three dudes armed with youthful enthusiasm, an obvious love for American indie from R.E.M. to the Dismemberment Plan, a few scruffy brainy wistful heart-tugging anthems-- what's not to like, right? On stage, where Pace's shaky bark was harder to decipher, I mostly found myself noticing how overly "intricate" a lot of these songs really can be. Pace on guitar, Dan Fetherston on drums, Adam Rizer on bass: Each obviously knows his instrument, but they're often doing too much, and as impressive as the constant fretboard movement or tricksy drum fills are, they get in the way of the songs. As do Pace's leg-kicking guitar moves (guitarists, please don't do this) and Rizer walking around with guitar face (bass face?). Didn't seem to stop anybody around me from losing their shit over the better songs from solid Sub Pop albums Bits and Remember the Night Parties, including the still-great "Please Visit Your National Parks", and by the final moments, most of the first couple rows seemed to end up on stage, singing along and bro-ing down. text/html 2008-10-25T19:00:00+01:00 http://monteciorock.org http://monteciorock.org/content/view/3/28/ In between all the music and conversating and outfit judging here The Levi'sŪ (http://www.levi.com)/FADER Fort NYC we have been trying to figure out how Mr Brainwash (http://mrbrainwash.com) managed to do so much with so little time in our space. Between the portraits made with smashed up old records and giant cardboard robots that fall on people, we're considering letting Brainwash remodel our parents' houses or maybe just build our parents new houses out of garbage and spilled paint or something. He's just that good! Check after the jump for some of the crazy installations and artwork from The Fort. text/html 2008-10-25T18:10:00+01:00 http://monteciorock.org http://monteciorock.org/content/view/4/28/ Photos by William Kirk (mailto:wkkirk@gmail.com); Above: DMBQ Marc Hogan's coverage: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Amy Phillips' coverage: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Jessica Suarez's coverage: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Best Fwends [Knitting Factory Main Space; 9 p.m.] The Knitting Factory was smelly art-punk kid central Friday night, as stalwart scene booking agency Panache Booking took over all three floors of the legendary Tribeca venue. The basement space, known as the Old Office, is cramped and claustrophobic even when it's empty; full of people, it's downright nerve-wracking. Photographer William Kirk and I decided to avoid the Old Office for the sake of our own sanity and concentrate on the upper two floors, the Tap Bar and Main Space. Most of the Panache roster focuses its energy on "Hey kids! Let's put on a show!" pluck rather than actual musicianship, which certainly has its charms. However, taken in large doses, this kind of goofy sloppiness can get exasperating. Take Best Fwends, for example. The Texas duo shout repetitious nonsense over rapid-fire, no-fi synth-pop while attacking the audience with ferocious friendliness. For this set, they were accompanied by two enormous inflatable dragons, which were dragged into the mosh pit during a cover of the Toadies' "I Come From the Water". It was all pretty obnoxious, but it was over so quickly that I didn't have time to become truly annoyed. Shellshag [Knitting Factory Tap Bar; 9:45 p.m.] The Lower East Side is currently plastered with advertisements for "Daylight", the new Matt and Kim song sponsored by Mountain Dew. Matt and Kim are a fine band-- lots of spunk and hooks-- but it really makes me wonder: Why them? Why did they break out, rather than any number of other similar bands sprouting from the same DIY scene? Why not, say, Shellshag, who are basically Matt and Kim, just a little bit older? Guy guitarist and girl drummer who play facing each other, sugary pop-punk tunes spit out on ramshackle equipment, sparkplug energy. The drummer wore sleigh bells on a belt around her waist; at one point, she created a song's rhythm merely by jumping up and down. Shellshag started their set with a chant of "Fuck society! Fuck sobriety!" and ended with a cover of Liz Phair's "Fuck and Run". DMBQ [Knitting Factory Tap Bar; 10:45 p.m.] Japanese psych-punk institution DMBQ weathered tragedy when a van crash claimed the life of their drummer Mana "China" Nishiura in 2005, but they haven't let that stop their bulldozing live show. The band members took advantage of the Tap Bar's low ceiling by hanging from various rafters and piping; at one point, bassist Ryuichi Watanabe was playing his instrument with one hand while suspending himself from the ceiling from the other. Guitarist Toru Matsui spent a good amount of time holding his guitar up with his teeth (yes, just his teeth), and later broke out a bow to saw at his axe for added prog pomposity. Lucky Soul [Joe's Pub; 11:30 p.m.] Seeking a brief respite from the madness at the Knitting Factory, we headed to Joe's Pub. The seated cabaret venue was an ideal setting for Lucky Soul, a London band that plays throwback girl-group indie pop. Joe's Pub's pristine sound and formal atmosphere cradled their ditties in warmth, and I envied all of the couples there on dates, sipping cocktails and bopping along, arm in arm. Vocalist Ali Howard was suffering from a sore throat, lending her vocals a rough scratchiness. Though she repeatedly apologized, I thought the circumstances made her sound better than ever. Now, songs about heartbreak took on a dramatic urgency, as if Howard was singing through tears. She isn't the most engaging frontwoman, and her shimmying seemed a bit forced, but Lucky Soul's songs were strong enough to pull through nonetheless. Monotonix [Knitting Factory Main Space; 1 a.m.] Back to the maelstrom. Monotonix's reputation precedes them; I'd heard accounts of everything from nudity to bodily harm to mass hysteria happening at their notorious live shows and, well, it's all true. The Israeli trio is chaos personified, everything you'd ever want in no-holds-barred punk rock. Everything, that is, except memorable music. Sure, I will probably remember the sight of whirling dervish frontman Ami Shalev climbing up a pole, humping it, and then climbing the Main Space's balcony like monkey bars, much to the chagrin of the Knitting Factory's security guard. And it will be hard to erase the vision of Shalev hiking up his loose jogging shorts to expose almost all of the terrain of his hairy butt, while an audience member shoves a crutch into his crotch. Or the memory of the finale, when three drum kits-- and three drummers-- were held aloft and passed above the crowd's heads. And hey, maybe the guy who started bleeding profusely from the head will sue everybody into the history books. But even the morning after, I can't remember any songs Monotonix played. I'm pretty sure they all had one or two chords and there was a lot of chanting and stuff. But how long can they keep this up? The novelty of going to a Monotonix show to get beer spilled all over you and trash dumped over your head is going to wear off pretty quickly. When it's all over, all we're left with is bruises. text/html 2008-10-25T15:00:00+01:00 http://monteciorock.org http://monteciorock.org/content/view/5/28/ In the Gen F section in of FADER Number 57, Friendly Fires (http://www.myspace.com/friendlyfires) revealed that they used to all be in a hardcore band. Watching them at the Levi'sŪ (http://www.levi.com)/FADER Fort, the remnants of that yelling brutishness were evident, but tinted with a kinder British post-punk, extra percussion slat. The XL superstars-to-be were massively sweaty and incredibly chipper throughout their set, which included a lot of cowbell and woodblock, a dustbuster and ambient noise. When you start a band, do you think about how you will be when you perform? Are theatrics unnatural or manifested organically? Does it matter? Probably not.