Wasn't this guy in that movie about the naked vampire?
Enjoy your 15 minutes, buddy. You're the personification of everything that sucks about "EDM."
God, just listen to this musical sewage spewing from the speakers in this clip. It's like he wants to turn the dancefloor into a waste treatment plant. I'm pretty sure all the cheering at the end is because he's leaving.
The first time I heard of The 2 Bears was from NPR's best list for 2012. I also heard of a ton of other artists from that list that won't be playing Coachella. It's really too bad that Cody Chestnutt, Andy Stott, and any other really amazing artists with a double consonant thing going on didn't make the lineup, but at least we got the Hot Chip spinoff that are the best at what they do, The 2 Bears.
If you saw John Waters speak at the festy a few years back, you'd know what a "bear" is.
If you didn't, or you don't know what a "bear" is, don't concern yourself with it.
I snagged a copy of this late last year, and while it was already eight months old, it was a shining example of what good dance music should be.
If you don't shake your ass when you hear Be Strong, you probably haven't got one, and don't deserve the right to vote.
No matter what, this act could be the most under-appreciated at Coachella since Infusion.
If this isn't catchy like Hep-C, I don't want to live in this world.
I'm going to go out on a limb and say that Purity Ring is the first band I've discovered as a result of this Coachella that I truly love. I picked up their latest, Shrines, when I was at Amoeba a few weeks ago. We were up in Los Angeles to catch what's surely going to go down in history as The Morrissey Show At Hollywood High School.
I think it was a staff pick, if I remember correctly, and the little 3x5" card taped to the CD mentioned something about the fact that they were pioneers of the "witch house" scene (think The Knife). I wasn't at all disappointed to find out that this album didn't remind me of that vibe at all. There's some great production on here, but moreover, great percussion and balance of elements. The vocals may nod to the Dreijer siblings at times, but Shrines has a sound that's all at once retarded (from Dictionary.com - to make slow; delay the development or progress of (an action, process, etc.); hinder or impede.) drum and bass and ethereal all at once. There's an overall sense of peace when listening to this sometimes frenetic music, and while there's never a real need for panic, there's definitely something bubbling under the surface that keeps you... well, not on the edge of your seat, but attentive.
Oh, fucking great. I just realized they're on Friday. Friday is the absolute DO NOT MISS day of the festival. Hearts will be broken, pants will be shat, and minds will be blown.
That's the problem with a really, really good year. Choices will be made that will be hard to live with before, during and after. It's a lot like college.
I remember a few years ago when I saw Beardyman on the schedule for Coachella. I said to myself, well, that's a stupid name, and I pretty much wrote him off.
When I was walking through the festival, I overheard someone declare, "Beardyman was AWESOME!" I didn't pay too much (positive) attention to it, because no matter how bad a band is, there will always be the faithful who love them. In fact, I have been a member of at least one of those bands.
However, when I was visiting my friends in Italy this past year, I learned that they were YouTube fanatics. No matter what I tried to show them, they'd already seen it. IT was a little frustrating, but they were able to show me so much cool stuff, I really didn't care.
One of the things they pulled up was Beardyman's 2009 Edinburgh appearance. Part stand-up comedy, part beatbox, and all genius, Beardyman is a one-man fucking fireball like a comet hurdling toward your dancin' shoes. This dude seems to be able to do things out of both sides of his mouth at the same time. This is apparent in the first few minutes of the video, all of which is available below.
One of the crazy things he does is request genres, themes and yes, even colors from the audience, around which he creates a (very cool) song from scratch. He does use some looping and drum machines, but he honestly doesn't have to.
Even if you don't appreciate the music, you have to respect the talent of this guy. Make room for Beardyman if you can.
This track is a little gratuitous on the "baby from Prince / Delirious" sample, but it's still intriguing.
As a responsible festivalgoer, I always try to evaluate the undercard to the greatest extent possible. It's the foreplay of the festival. And as any successful lover will tell you, if you can't warm up, you're not going to give (or get) much bang for your buck.
I knew there was something I liked immediately about TNGHT. It was quirky, almost what I'd refer to as "ambient hip-hop" (see Dragonfly), but there was another element I was drawn to.
When I researched it a little bit more, I found out that these guys were on Warp, the label that has hosted such mindblowing acts as Boards Of Canada, Flying Lotus, Gonjasufi, Bibio, Aphex Twin, Grizzly Bear, and Our Lord And Savior Of Ambient Music, Brian Eno.
I am in no way putting TNGHT on the same level as all or even any of these artists. These guys have a great thing going, very glitchy, awkward rhythms and melodies that catch the attention of the most jaded (me), and like a good storyteller, make you wonder what's coming next.
In this age of disposable everything, this is an act you might want to pay a little bit of attention to.
Yeah, I ended that sentence with a preposition. You don't like it? Suck it.
I finally got the chance to start checking out some of the bands that will be playing at Coachella 2013 that I'm unfamiliar with. This
weekend, I had the pleasure of discovering Bat For Lashes, aka Natasha Khan. Bat For Lashes was the first act we knew of that was "unofficially" booked for the festy, due to a combination of verifiable rumors and the band's own Web site.
While I still haven't familiarized myself with her entire body of work, I can say that what I have heard has haunted my head since I first listened to Laura, the first single from 2012's The Haunted Man. While the comparisons to other artists like Sarah McLachlan and Imogen Heap are inevitable, Bat For Lashes brings something unique to the table. It's hard to put a finger on, but her songs are perfectly-crafted somber vignettes. These songs would sound amazing with standard instrumentation, but between the swelling orchestral movements and the well-placed glitchiness of the rhythms, Khan successfully molds the hopeless with the hopeful.
Also, it never hurts when an artist looks good sans clothing.
Rochelle Rochelle are doing a reunion show at The Casbah on October 6, 2012. This is the review I wrote when I first stumbled onto this band, over ten years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday.
-mediaassassin
I was on my way to a
friend’s 50th birthday party when my leg, broken from a 20-mile
run earlier that spring decided to get soft on me in the late afternoon
Del Mar traffic. As I crawled along the I-5 I wasn’t sure if I could
make it all the way to the north end of LA, despite the rumors of
an all-nude half-century bash. I wasn’t sure whether to be intrigued
or petrified by the possibilities, but I was going.
"I can’t make it," I
explained to my friend’s answering machine through my disappointed
sighs. “I don’t know if I can make it that far and even if I do
I don’t know if I could make it back tomorrow." I’d already told
all my friends that I was going to this big nudie party so they’d
all made plans. I guess I’m on my own tonight, I thought, turning
the car toward the closest international border I could reach by
land.
By the time I got home,
it was dark. I decided to go out and look for something. What I
was looking for would be revealed to me over the course of the evening.
I was hoping to find something about 5’3" with long dark hair, but
what I encountered that evening was several disappointments that
led up to one beautiful relationship.
I started at the Casbah
where I caught a few songs by Sub Pop Monster Magnet Mimics Nebula.
The last time I saw them some drunken lass had jumped on stage,
taken her top off, danced around like an idiot, got pushed off stage,
threw a beer bottle at the band and started a fight. This time was
not quite so entertaining so I split.
My next Sapphire was
imbibed at Lancer’s, the bar you go to when you would rather scream
at your friends over a jukebox than scream at your friends over
a band. Looking around, I saw no promising prospects. I slammed
my lowball, nearly swallowing the lime, and was out.
Off to the Red Fox, where
Miss Shirley always puts on a great show with a little help from
her old friends and a little hindrance from her new friends. Well,
sometimes the guest singers aren’t bad, but sometimes they are.
This night was pretty dead, so I decided to head home. I wasn’t
through yet, though. I decided to park the car in the driveway and
limp to as many bars as I could until I either found someone willing
to at least listen to me bitch about the night I’d had or better
yet, listen to me coo about the night I had over breakfast on Sunday.
I gimped up to Scolari’s Office, a small dive with great drinks
that’s less than a block from my house. I don’t know why I’d never
visited there before that night – I’d lived within hawking distance
for over a year.
As fate had it, this
was the night I was to discover not only the venue, but the act.
I walked into the place, drawn in by the music I heard as I thumped
my feet up to the door. I saw everyone in there standing not more
than one foot away from the band. EVERYONE. I have never seen anything
like it. The funny thing is, there were only 12 people in the entire
place. But all eyes were on this quartet.
I stood there, dazzled.
Being somewhat of a Casbah spectator over the course of the last
year I was sure I would have heard of these guys. “Who ARE these
guys?" I shouted to the guy next to me after about three songs.
“Rochelle Rochelle," he said, never turning away from the band.
“They’re fucking amazing!" I shouted. “I know," he yelled back.
The band proceeded to
pound out only two more songs before calling it a night. I felt
cheated that I had missed most of the set but blessed that I ever
got the chance to see them, considering the circumstances. I felt
like walking up to them and saying, “I don’t know what to do now."
The band describes their
sound as "Hard rock that’s pretty," and it’s an accurate description.
Their use of dynamics and time signatures is reminiscent of acts
like Hum and Smashing Pumpkins, and the influence of Radiohead and
Drive Like Jehu shine through on songs like "Farewell Production,"
which pits Erik Berg’s floating yet grinding vocals against the
chunky, electro-shock-like melodies courtesy of Austin, Jeff and
Nick.
I honestly didn’t know
what to do after seeing them for the first time. I felt star struck,
as if I’d just seen the next big thing right before my eyes. These
guys are up and coming only because they’re relative unknowns in
the scene. Be sure to check them out for the sake of good music,
if not for the sake of telling your friends you were listening to
them before everyone else was.
