Goddammit. My flaccid streak continues. These guys remind me a little bit of some of Parov Stelar's recent stuff. Too bad they didn't show up last year. That broke my heart all the way down, so now I've got a crack in my ass.
Anyway, you can't argue that this video is really, really cool. And depending on the format, this could be a great show or something that could have been a great show.
My prediction? An early main-stage stunner that makeup weekenders won't be able to avoid hearing about.
OK, I'm starting to get pissed now. I can't find any really shitty bands at Coachella this year. The only bad thing I can say about Austra is that they blurred out all the nudity in this video. Come on, we're all adults here, so show us your boobies already.
I know I should be overjoyed, and don't get me wrong, on some levels I absolutely am. I can't remember a year since I've been doing this that I've found such a fantastic over/under ratio. This is going to make selecting tracks for our traditional Coachella or Bust CDs that much harder, because those bitches only go to like barely 80 minutes.
So, about Austra. Damn. Take Florence or Zola Jesus and put her in front of a really dark early 80's synth pop band and you're pretty much there. Think Frida's I Know There's Something Going On with a killer dancefloor draw and those trilling, melancholy vocals of Zo' or Flo' with plenty of tinkling synthesizers. Gorgeous, dark-gray stuff, only lit by the occasional strobe through the fog machine's perfumed pollution.
Apparently, they're from Canada, and according to their Wikipedia page, they recently lost out to Arcade Fire on some big prize they give out in the Great White North. It's probably like a year's supply of bait or a shitload of poutine or something, but still. I'm sick of AC hogging up all the prizes. Canada's got some pretty fantastic bands. Austra's definitely worth checking out.
Poutine. The national dish of our neighbors to the north. Or the results of my last stomach pump.
Austra plays Friday, so you shouldn't be too hungover when they take the stage. You'll probably just be fucked up.
The more I try to find bands that might suck this year, the more I'm disappointed. I mean, sure, there are bound to be some stinkers, but so far I'm just not randomly picking them.
Scuba is one of those acts that ended up being a pleasantly surprising brick wall I ran into when trying to find bands that sucked. I figured it was probably a DJ, and I'm extremely suspect of the electronic music Coachella is booking these days in general, let alone electronic music in general.
It turns out that Scuba's track Hardbody could be my new favorite track. It's a beautifully layered, textured, four on the floor stomper. A wonderful, classic-sounding progressive house song complete with lush female vocals and a kick drum dropout that floats you gently away.
While I'd love to think that this is the norm, and that electronic music is returning to this, I know it's too good to be true. So I'll just enjoy tracks like this one while they last. If the rest of Scuba's stuff sounds like this, it could make for an extremely pleasurable set.
Sub Pop used to crank out the music that defined a generation. Bands like Soundgarden, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, and my personal favorite, Tad, until he got fat. Wait. He was always fat. Oh well, whatever, never mind.
I wish what Sub Pop was putting out these days did the same thing for music, because what I've heard from their artists in the last few years is pretty phenomenal. Some of the bands signed today include Washed Out, Mudhoney (who probably never left their Alma mater), and SDRS darlings Mogwai, all of who are cranking out excellent music outside the fray of what you expect to hear these days.
In that group now is Dum Dum Girls, a band that sounds like a throwback to the early '90's in a lot of ways. If I have to say something bad about them (and I do), it's that they sound a little derivative of the greats - Lush. (The Almighty) My Bloody Valentine, and most of all The Jesus and Mary Chain. In fact, the singer sounds so much like a cleaned-up PJ Harvey and a sweeter Hope Sandoval had a lesbian baby that I got a little aroused listening to their upcoming single.
OK, a lot aroused.
It doesn't hurt that she's gorgeous, or that the music has this droney, driving, minor-key yeaahhhh I love it sorta thing going for it. And it doesn't hurt that they sound like a ton of bands I love. Hell, if you're going to "wear your influences on your sleeve," do it well. And sound like somebody good.
Sadly, my prediction is that these guys will be relegated to a very early slot on Friday (or will be pitted against the headliners). And while that's the day we're usually standing at the gates, waiting with about 20 other front row Joes to get in, I really think a lot of people are going to miss them.
Their new album, Too True, drops January 28. Check that shit out.
While perusing the lineup and trying to find bands I actually liked, I did. They're called The Naked And Famous, and while I think I've heard that song Young Blood on a commercial or god forbid an iPod commercial, they're catchy as hell and I won't apologize for liking them.
They remind me of a more poppy version of The Joy Formidable (another Coachella find, maybe in 2011) with a healthy dose of New Order phrasing and Ulrich Schnauss-esque keyboard loops mixed in.
For those of you who know and love the bands I've compared this band to, I know. It's a pretty bold statement. They're not as hard as TJF, not as classic as NO, and not as varied and lush as Ulrich, but they're also not derivative of any of them either. And from the short previews I've experienced, I'd say the difference between their first (Passive Me, Aggressive You) and second albums (In Rolling Waves) speaks more to their diversity than anything. The one constant is Alisa's vocals, and the fact that all the other elements surrounding her vocals, make you want to hear more.
It's a bit of a shock to go straight from the poppy anthems they're known for to the brooding, swirling stuff on the latest effort, but hang in there. The patient listener is rewarded, in different ways, listening to each.
It's another year, another Coachella, and yes, as usual, I'll be one of the creepy dudes leering at you from behind a pair of very cheap, very dark sunglasses.
But enough about me. Let's talk about music.
OK, so that's kind of misleading. We can't actually talk about music if we're talking about third-liner Sunday act Flosstradamus, because that would be like calling actual human excrement something you could wipe into your iPod and listen to.
I just can't believe any of these people actually paid to watch these douchebags. Not even ketamine would excuse listening to this.
I'm not totally sure, but I think this is considered "trap" music, and of course "trap" is an anagram for "blowing chunks out of my nose while getting curbed by nazi skinheads."
Or something like that.
Like seriously. They're on the second line of the poster on Sunday after the headliner. Is Coachella really that desperate to find new acts, or do people actually want to hear queefs sampled over a 400-pound Arkansonian dealing poorly with Montezuma's revenge?
If this is trap, I was wrong when I said music couldn't get any worse than US dubstep. Actually, there are genres that are far worse than dubstep, but I think trap has got to be right down there catchin' the fecal matter of all other artists above them, including the gabber elite.
Gabber. Until Flosstradamus, the worst music on the planet
Perhaps I've become my father at last, but as I told my man Mike, avoid at all costs. Cut off a limb if you have to, but if you get anywhere near these morons or their even more idiotic fans, you're sure to get covered in whatever that shit-spooge is that's spewing from the speakers.
I'm excited by the lack of disappointment
I'm disappointed that I'm not more excited
I'm excited for what I'm excited for
And that's not disappointing at all
While we've seen a lot of these names before
We've not seen all of these acts before
And if this is a cleanup year
I say let's enjoy it, dear.
