frankie cosmos
tonstartssbandht field mouse
johnny aries beiju palm
ISSUE 12
ISSUE 12
CONTENTS
TEAM EDITOR IN CHIEF
DANNY KRUG
PHOTOGRAPHY
DANNY KRUG
LOGO DESIGN
NICOLE CODY
WRITERS
ISAAC GILLESPIE JAKE SAUNDERS ASHLEY CANINO LEAH MARCHESANO PRESTON OSSMAN EDDIE HUDDLESTON
CONTACT gigawattsmag@gmail.com facebook.com/gigawattsmag instagram @gigwattsmedia I S S UE 1 2
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PALM
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JOURNALISM
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NORWEGIAN ARMS
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RETAIL
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JOHNNY ARIES
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HAPPY LIVES
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BEIJU
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FIELD MOUSE
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TONSTARTSSBANDHT
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FRANKIE COSMOS
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INSTAGRAM IRL
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STUFF WE’RE LISTENING TO
EDITOR S LETTER I SIT HERE WRITING THIS ON THE EVE OF CMJ 2014. When I first moved to Brooklyn, CMJ was this magical weeklong party time that included parties that were only ever remembered in photos, sneaking out of work to watch day shows in Manhattan and a coffee burnt tongue/salt bagel combo that my pain receptors won’t soon forget. Since that time, it’s become a husk of what it was. Now, it’s merely a week where all my friends are playing lots of shows and if I miss them on Tuesday that’s fine because I can catch them on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. I love watching my friends play and they love watching each other play, but when all that’s happening is bands are playing in shitty tiny rooms for themselves, their friends and a couple randos, is it worth it anymore? My first CMJ I saw Metronomy, Wavves, Purity Ring, Grimes, Widowspeak, White Fence, Bleached, Trash Talk, FIDLAR, The Audacity and a bunch of other crazy awesome bands. This year there’s no possible way to see that many bands of that caliber. Sure, they’re bigger now than they were, but they were all pretty buzzy
back then too. The bands that we have now, while great, just don’t inspire me to leave my house every morning at 11am still hungover from the night before just so I don’t miss out. Is the changing of CMJ an indirect response to the changing live music and venue scene in New York? Is the lack of long running DIY venues responsible for the lack of great parties? It’s hard to say for certain, but a lot of the great things that used to happen at CMJ took place at illegal living room and warehouse venues. That doesn’t mean CMJ isn’t fun at all. We can all drink cheap beer and shout along to our favorite Haybaby lyrics or drink some free rum while watching Will Smith’s daughter try to prove to The Fader that she’s worth their time, if that’s your thing. So, in response to the many questions that I’ve been receiving about this issue, no this is not a CMJ issue of Gigawatts. It’s just an issue that’s coming out in the same month. These are some bands we like. See them wherever and whenever you can. --Danny
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PALM
words by preston ossman
"Palm is the best band." My friend Zach reiterates this statement every opportunity he can. On social media, in the comments section of online publications, and in person, this phrase is repeated. "Palm is the best band."
The assertion is pretty absurd. Some people payed $200 or more to see Guns ’n Roses last summer at the Brooklyn Bowl, while Palm has spent much of their young career playing moderately sized and attended DIY spaces up and down the east coast. If they aren’t selling out bowling alleys at $200 a head, what is the metric by which they can be said to be the "best"? More often, the "best band"argument is made for groups like the Beatles, who advanced studio technique and pop songwriting over the course of their career. Palm is merely in their nascency, with two Eps under their belt and another one on the way. The songwriting and production of all three releases is admittedly excellent, but how can they be determined as "the best band" without a full length LP to their name? Can 2
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six songs (ten if you have heard the unreleased cuts from their upcoming release) definitively dictate this degree of quality? Obviously, these questions are unanswerable if one aims to universalize "the best band" and apply this sentiment to everyone. If you don’t like rock music, have no sense of its history, and/or listen to Switchfoot regularly, Palm is probably not your cup of tea. Palm is not radio rock; Palm is anything but formulaic. The chords that Eve Alpert, Kasra Sarikhani, and Gerasimos Livitsanos exercise from their instruments allow for simultaneous harmony and dissonance. Backed by the jagged pulse of Hugo Stanley, who doubles as the drummer for Big Neck Police, Palm’s songs stab the knife deep into its listeners and twist, evoking the sublimity of a death rattle. Yet, there is nothing about Palm’s music which is not beautiful. Even at their noisiest, most abrasive moments Palm knows they are playing a song and making music, as opposed to aimlessly generating harsh sound ad nauseum. Even when a song is that its apex of aggression, the band has a tendency to pull the rug out from
under us, slowing down to half time, leaving space for a jazzy bass riff or a vocal melody that sounds like it should be coming from Serge Gainsbourg’s songwriting cannon. In this way, Palm embraces quality songwriting without compromising their art. They write pop songs, wrap them in barbed wire and tinsel and watch the listener tear away at this wrapping paper with pleasure. Many bands concern themselves with making music which is pleasing to the ear alone, harmonic and melodic, but shallow, while others focus on making their music impenetrable, abrasive, incoherent, but it ends up equally shallow. Palm not only sounds good, providing a pleasurable listening experience, but goes deep, both rhythmically and harmonically, rich with complexity and depth. Thus, it could conceivably be said that Palm is, to the ideal listener, the best band. Their music is pop art; it is punk, jazz, noise, and rock n’ roll, tied together like you have never heard before. All bias aside, give it a listen and find out that you agree with Zach, stuck on repeat, stating "Palm is the best band."
Every musician has their own come-up story. As for me, after
moving to suburban Northern-California at the ripe young age of 16, I of course took the sad boy route, and wrote shitty songs on my shitty acoustic guitar in my shitty bedroom until I graduated high school. I came back to New York, discovered I had very little musical... let’s call it ‘appeal’ and had learned my first two lessons of the music world: 1. It’s not easy to get recognized (or feel fulfilled when you’re not recognized) as a musician and 2. It’s REALLY not easy to get recognized as a musician in New York City. But this isn’t about me, this is about a band called Journalism, who came to terms with the same very daunting realizations, and didn’t peel out when it came time to face them. Of course they had a college degree under their belt and I had a measly high school diploma, but I think it’s safe to say that you don’t learn how to be in a serious rock band in high school or in college... you learn that from just doing it. Owen Keiter(bass) and Brendan Mehan(drums) were former members of a band called Big Fur, until they split in half to form both Bodega Bay and Journalism. Soon after that they enlisted
their vocalist/guitarist, Kegan Zema, an old friend of Owen’s from high school in South Portland, Maine and Dara Hirsch (guitar/vocals) who they claimed to have "taken off the street (not really though)." They’re a lively bunch, and take advantage of the recording space at The Silent Barn where Dara and Kegan have been recording various bands over the summer (check out their website 1989recordings.com). Journalism’s debut EP, 1324, is a chilled out concoction of shimmery guitar pop and shoegazy influences. The band has an impressive agency over their sound, and Dara and Kegan’s engineering skills certainly lend a hand. Each of the three tracks are in one form or another dedicated to the post college life; a time that can seem hopeless, where the struggles of the distant future become struggles of the present. The number 1324 refers to the first apartment that Kagen and Owen lived at when the songs off the EP were written; their first post-college and "post-sleeping-on-my-girlfriend’s-futon home," says Owen. "Educated by the waiting line I grind my heels on the city street/You’re the one who came here long ago told me how it was gonna be/Gotta fake it till
your break it kid I’ve heard you play and you’re alright/Grab your guitar on the weekend but you’re home alone at night," Keegan sings on "A Thousand Pricks", a song that hits the nail on the head when it comes to facing the expectations of adulthood. "It’s about being a part of some culture you’re forced into by being alive at a certain age, at a certain time, at a certain place. It’s about being born to play music and coming to terms with the depths of your own unoriginality." Keegan puts it bluntly, but there’s a lot of truth in this; as if everything we do is contextualized by the culture we live in, and in a place like Brooklyn where it’s almost impossible to not compare yourself to others, the ability to knock down these pre-set structures becomes increasingly difficult. Journalism is a band that is just at the beginning of their rock and roll journey, but they’ve got something more important about them than anything else: they write about what they know. What we have here is a solid band, with a solid couple of songs that lack in bullshit, something that we need a little more of around here. words by jake saunders photograph by danny krug
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NORWEGIAN ARMS words by ashley canino photograph by danny krug
"I have a bit of a Wanderlust thing," says Brendan Mulvihill, the
center of Brooklyn by-way-of Philly band Norwegian Arms. It shows. Their first LP, Wolf Like A Stray Dog, was born out of Mulvihill’s experience living in Siberia for a year. Since then he has returned to live and play in his hometown of Philadelphia, relocated to Brooklyn, and gone out to Anacortes, WA to a cut a new record at The Unknown studio. The band’s name also comes from experiences abroad, but not in Norway: "The name Norwegian Arms was introduced to me while I was living in Southern Germany," Mulvihill explains. "A Norwegian friend told me that when folks reach across the table to grab things it’s referred to as such. I thought that concept was an appropriate description for my music, I was going places and sampling experiences and elements and piecing them together."
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With an itch for travel and diversity of sound, it’s no wonder the band took to the Pacific Northwest to cut their second LP, tentatively (and amazingly) titled Girard Freeloader. "It’s a title a friend jokingly gave me right after I had returned from Russia and didn’t really have a job yet and was living/booking at this warehouse show space some friends and I had. Girard Avenue cuts through the Fishtown section of Philadelphia and there was one cafe in particular where he and I would sit and drink coffee and chat." So, titled after a throwback from home, but recorded on a journey, and written by a band pulling from every corner of the earth, what can we expect of the new LP compared to WLASD? "The songs will be longer, maybe a little less angular, but the sentiments of self-discovery are still there," says Mulvihill. "It’s different than [our last album] in that it won’t be about a singular experience (like a year in Siberia) but it still feels like the culmination of my life
since returning from that year." The new material, which no doubt will be as rich and invigorating as the old, also draws from more exotic locales: "There are a few labels who specify in Tuareg music out of Mali and it’s incredible sounding. There are a lot of blended elements that are really special and unusual." As Mulvihill’s collective experiences and influences contribute to his growth as an artist, the music must also evolve: "The sound of the new material has transformed as well: "I do still think we’re rooted in folk music, " says Mulvihill. "But it’s evolved into a sort of dream-pop groove oriented version of it’s previous, more folky self... I like to think that each album is representative of a molting period in my life, the shedding of an old skin to expose the soft, overly sensitive layer beneath, and then reacting to how that new highly sensitive layer responds to new experiences..."
RETAIL
"I totally encourage people to come out and spit beer [at me] while I’m singing, or floor punch us...that’s still in, people think that went out of style, but I’m into it." Austin Jack-
son, singer, bassist and principal songwriter of Retail tells me encouragingly. Now I’m not the guy at shows punching or spitting on the band, but I do appreciate the invitation. Retail is a rowdy ass band, and they want you to know with every inch of their being how much they fuckin hate themselves. With an album title like I Hate Me and songs like "Nausea", "Not Ok", and my personal favorite, "Sad", it feels like they’re trying to tell us something. "It’s almost coming from a place of irony [based on] the lack of sincerity in music today....with a lot of
shows we go to with ‘good’ Brooklyn bands there seems to he a void or lack of sincerity," Jackson tells me, "these songs are a chance to be like: ‘no joke, I hate me.’"
Retail’s music is about as righteously restless as it sounds. Their single album on bandcamp is one huge mental breakdown, and it only takes 20 minutes for Retail to dole it out. It’s fuzzy, raucous, and just bleeds that good ol’ self-loathing pop-punk vibes. It was Lester Bangs who, in the form of a meditation on Iggy Pop, aided me in understanding why we need artists like this: "What we need are more rock "stars" willing to make fools of themselves, absolutely jump off the deep end...so long as they have not one shred of dignity or mythic corona left. Because then the whole damn pompous edifice of this supremely ridiculous
rock ‘n’ roll industry...would collapse, and with it...the careers of the hyped talentless nonentities who breed off of it." (Of Pop and Pies and Fun, Creem magazine). What Retail has going for them is transparency; they’re singing about their own despair, but are they going to bullshit us with mystery and metaphors? Fuck no, they’re going to channel in the only way they know how: fuck shit up until someone gets hurt or they get signed to a label, either way, someone’s probably going to get hurt.
words by jake saunders photograph by danny krug
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JOHNNY ARIES words and photography by danny krug
Johnny Aries comes to Brooklyn via England with the help of the band The Drums, who
initially brought him here as their guitarist. Somehow between the hectic touring and recording schedule of The Drums, Johnny has found time to write and record a solo album, Unbloomed, out now on Frenchkiss Records. On top of that, he was able to put together a band made up of Alaska bar regulars and play a handful of shows before The Drums snatched him back up for their current and very lengthy tour. Given Johnny’s background, other musical endeavors, he previously played in Two Wounded Birds and did a brief stint in Swim Deep, the album’s sound should come as no surprise to listeners. There are shades of The Drums, hints of other famous UK bands such as Stone Roses, as well as some more classic jukebox crooner sounds. According to Johnny, the album came about through "the upheaval of moving and the personal trauma I was going through at that time." He explains, "I didn’t want to rush to make any more music after [Two Wounded Birds] last album. I wanted to take a minute and absorb things and then tackle it to file all that emotional stuff away."
Coming from success in another location in the world, Brooklyn presented Johnny with a different personal and creative atmosphere than he was used to in England. "Being in a band in England is stressful for me...everyone is expecting it to happen really quickly or buzz has got to come quickly. Over here, people have a chance to develop, no one is pressuring anyone to do anything they don’t want to do." Johnny’s point of view brings up some valid points. We don’t have publications like NME in this scene or even in this country that are constantly trying to find the next Arctic Monkey or Oasis or whatever the American equivalent of those bands would be. A scene like Brooklyn gives someone like Johnny the ability to live amongst like minded people, spend time getting to know them and then ultimately deciding what music he wants to make and who he wants to make it with. "Everyone is very supportive of each other, there’s no pointless rivalries or anything like that. In England [rivalries] exist and it’s rubbish, bands don’t need to behave that way." The normal way bands release an album is a release followed by a tour, however, Johnny’s album dropped and then he almost immediately went on tour with The Drums and won’t be back until January. "I think it’s important that I got the
album out there. People can listen to it. If they like it, they like it. If they don’t, whatever," he says. There are plans to do a full tour, but they’re just on hold until the new year. "Once I finish this touring stint with The Drums, I’m going to come back and do a full US tour for this album. In the meantime I’m going to finalize an EP or even a second LP. Hopefully put out a second records before June." Bullett hailed Unbloomed as the "Best Smiths Record in Years," which isn’t too far off the mark. It’s safe to say Johnny pulls from the Smiths as an influence, but even deeper I’d wager he and Morrissey pull from the same influences further back in history. Earlier this summer, Johnny went as far as to play a few songs at a show with The Smiths’ Andy Rourke on bass. He and Rourke are looking at working together more in the future. "He heard my record and he was really into it. We hung out a few times, had drinks and spoke about music. He wants to possibly produce my next record." If Johnny’s early live shows are any indication, he won’t have any trouble rising to the top of the ranks of local bands as well as building a solid audience around the country.
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Happy Lives are a band I hold near and dear to my heart,
I know this band like the back of my hand and it is my utmost honor and pleasure to introduce the Gigawatts readers to Happy Lives. They’ve shown massive range from incorporating samples and electronic sounds to their raw rock and roll base. However, there are still questions that pop up, still things that hold a mystery. Who really are Happy Lives? What are Happy Lives? I sat down with the boys and these are my field notes. "I’m live, Mike [Lande] is content," explained Julian Beel. "Other than that my job is keeping that bitch in line. Not easy. That’s why I get to be in the picture." Talking to the boys was kind of like a brainstorming session. I got to listen to unreleased tracks, older songs and everything in between. We sat and talked about their sound, their style. They don’t care about whats trending,
they care about what works for them. Every song I listened to sounded different, it still sounded like Happy Lives but you could tell that each song happened about during a particular time. The thing is, it all worked. You could throw all of those songs onto an album and it would flow together beautifully. Their new single, "Marry Me", is the perfect example. They threw elements of hip hop into the mix and while most would deem that too risky, they look at me and it’s written all over their faces. Why wouldn’t they do it? It’s what felt right and it’s what worked, the key fit into the lock and it turned. This is something that so many bands in the scene are missing. They get so stuck in what’s trending or what’s cool right now that they forget what’s cool for them or what fits with their personal style. Happy Lives keep up but mold everything to their own personal style. Sometimes some of their best songs happened by accident or by chance. Take "Feeling Right," one of their most recent singles, it was a song that was written but was never seen as something that could be played live. I can tell you from experience, I’ve seen them play it live and it’s amazing. When you listen to most of their songs, it’s almost unimaginable to think how it can get translated over to a live show. Somehow, they do it and they do it well. Happy Lives are constantly thinking up ways to tweak their sound, make it better and stronger. My eyes always get wide and my ears itch to hear whatever they want to lay out in front of me. I can see a future for Happy Lives right in front of me. They’ll always keep you guessing and will never disappoint you. I’ve witnessed it time and time again. They’re a band you’re going to ache for and when they deliver, it’ll be all you wanted and more.
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words by leah marcehsano photography by danny krug
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BEIJU
I was seven beers deep, trying to medicate the hangover from the night before, as I succumbed to my vices and opened the eighth. It had been almost two years since I last saw Caitlin Seager perform. Caitlin once fronted the band Night Manager, which has now achieved cult status in the Brooklyn DIY scene. Despite her hiatus from Brooklyn, that night at Silent Barn it didn’t seem like Seager had ever left the stage. This could be in part due to her continued participation in teaching and performing jazz in Manhattan. This jazz background has founds its way into her new band Beiju, in which she sings and plays synth; the band also features veteran musicians Greg Timmes (Marlon Rando) on guitar, Ethan Snyder (Spires) on drums, and there newest addition to the band Fernelly Sarria on bass. This collection of musicians has allowed for Beiju to have an eclectic and unique sound that is seemingly hard to define. To describe their sonic endeavors, Guitarist Greg Timmes coined the term "Dream Rock." Beiju combines dream pop and progressive rock with surreal otherworldly atmospheres and textures, by weaving a detailed picture for its listeners. As Beiju invaded the New York Indie scene playing at venues like Brooklyn’s new DIY buzz spot Palisades and headlining Manhattan’s Bowery Electric, the four peace was only missing recorded material to seal their legitimacy in the
music industry. To be honest I was fortunate enough to have heard an unreleased demo in the early formation of the band, but the demo felt more like a tease than a satisfying listen, making me crave for more. Luckily for my ears and everyone else’s, Beiju released there first single in the beginning of September, landing write-ups on IMPOSE Magazine and Portals. "Narcissist," Beiju’s first step into the musical world is a haunting yet playful art pop song that follows our dayto-day routine created by social media. "Narcissist" puts into focus the superficial problems created by social media, calling out the artificial kindness given through "Like" and "Follows" and shining the light on the Narcissus refection created by the need to continuously be updating profile pictures and statues. The guitar and synth create a colorful tonal pallet, which in turn creates a sense of glamour deepening the Narcissistic message created within the lyrics. The rhythm section is smart, clean, and simple enunciating on the idea of ritual created by the need to constantly check, change, and update one’s social media. Caitlin Seager’s vocals create a fictional impression of the vapid mo-
tions people go though in order to create more "Likes," and thus, creating a false persona. Caitlin’s vocals go even further by adding sarcastic lalala’s to the chorus pushing an overly cheerful bridge, creating a cynical feel to the fictitious character she creates through her lyrics. "Narcissist" has a strong statement about modern social interaction, which succeeds to articulate the modern social climate and the trends inherent in social media outlets like Facebook and Twitter. It also creates an interesting commentary on the current state of the music industry were bands are considered "good" not for artistic merit, but for how many followers they have on Facebook and how many likes they got when posting their latest bandcamp page. It’s rare to see a band with so much hype and potential hit their mark on what is expected of them. Beiju is a perfect example of one of these exceptions, creating a level of depth and artistic merit rarely seen in the modern New York music scene. Beiju has promised new material in the up coming months and many more shows in the future. And we’ll be listening. words by eddie huddleston photograph by danny krug
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FIELD MOUSE The struggle of capturing your live energy on a recording is very real. Just ask Field Mouse, whose new album sounds much noisier than all of their previous recordings. "It’s aggro and loud," says guitarist, Andrew Futral, of the new album. "We never played delicately live. People were like, ‘your live sound and recorded sound are different and they’re both fine but just go with one,’ so we went with loud because it’s more fun," adds vocalist, Rachel Browne. The band indirectly started when Rachel and Andrew were going to Purchase together and Andrew played on Rachel’s senior recital. Since then the project has grown and band names were googled and the Field Mouse that exists 12
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today was born. Since that time, they have put out a steady stream of releases. Their most recent release, Hold Still Life, takes the band’s sound to a place fans might not have thought they would go. As touched on earlier, Field Mouse used to sound quite a bit different on recordings than they do now. A search on Spotify turns up the most recent album plus three earlier songs. The earlier songs such as "Glass" and "You Guys Are Gonna Wake Up My Mom" sound like indie pop gems, thoroughly catchy and addictive in their own right. The new album, however, sounds almost like an entirely new band but with the same vocalist. There are layers of feedback, aggressive guitars and loud drums that welcome you during the intro to the first track. The dichotomy created by the instrumentation and the vocals is
what makes the album so interesting. You could brush it off as nothing new to anyone that’s ever listened to the slightest of shoegaze music. But with the vocals so prominent in the mix, the songs wander in this territory between pop and less listener friendly sounds. The album was crowdfunded through a campaign on Kickstarter, a tactic that pretty much everyone in Brooklyn has an opinion on now. The band declared on their campaign however that they ultimately intended that the album would be released on a label, they just weren’t sure which one at the time. Fast forward a small chunk of time through a successfully funded campaign plus a little extra time, and their new album came out recently on Top-
shelf Records, home of bands such as Braid, A Great Big Pile of Leaves and The World Is A Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid To Die. While Field Mouse doesn’t neccesarily fit right in with, but it wouldn’t be a far cry to put them all on the same bill. Interestingly, in this current musical landscape where newly signed bands rarely get advances for albums unless they’re signing to a major, Topshelf cut Field Mouse a deal that guaranteed all of their Kickstarter backers would get the records they were promised. Before you think of crowdfunding for your campaign take these words from Rachel into consideration, "It is a little soul sucking. I’m packaging things every day, postage is really expensive and the post office is the worst place in the word." At a time when so much about the Brooklyn musical landcaspe is changing, Rachel has an interesting take on how to survive as a Brooklyn musician. She lives in Philly. While the other three members still live in New York, hold-
ing down the bands cred, Rachel lives a short two hour drive away and still comes to New York regularly for shows and band practice. "It’s significantly cheaper to live there and come up here from time to time," she says. Rachel lived in New York for six years before relocating, "A lot of stress would surround any kind of music stuff. [Living in Philly] is more conducive to being a touring band." With momentum picking up for Field Mouse, including the recent Topshelf Records tour they played, it’s perhaps not the worst idea to live in another city. We’ve seen other bands such as Mannequin Pussy and Hunters do the exact same thing. Less money on rent means more money for recording, touring and for tour snacks if you’re in Field Mouse. She says of the Philly scene, "There’s some cool stuff happening in Philly. There’s a really good music scene. There’s a really solid punk scene which I feel like fell apart [in New York] just from the expense of living here." The subject of this city being too expensive to live in for the musicians and other creatives
that help make it a worthwhile place to be is a whole separate article, potentially even a whole book. Field Mouse has found a situation that works for them, which is great since they’re great and we need more Field Mouse music in the future. If you like catchy melodies mixed with loud layered guitars and big drums, Field Mouse is making your kind of tunes right now. If you’re one of those people that hates catchy music, maybe this isn’t for you, and furthermore, maybe you should think long and hard about why you dislike fun things. Field Mouse’s Hold Still Life is available most everywhere now. Go check it out.
words and photography by danny krug
words by winston scarlett photograph by danny krug
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Bro culture has come to symbolize a variety of detestable qualities. First, there are the frat
houses, wherein being a brother means subjecting oneself to hazardous and embarrassing forms of hazing in order to be accepted. Outside of fraternities, "bro" has been used to describe anyone who looks like they would fit in, or perhaps already has been a part of, a fraternity. Most of the time, one is given the image of fluorescent tank tops/ polos, state school basketball shorts/ khakis, Nike Slides, and dubstep. Yet, brotherly love exists outside of this iconography and these institutions which have actively demonized what it means to be a bro. Tonstartssbandht, brothers from Florida who have since made the move to Brooklyn, provide a psychedelic counterbalance to what it means to be and have a bro, one which is more in the vein of Panda Bear than Ryan Lochte. Andy and Edwin White, who make up Tonstartssbandht, have been playing music together for the better half of their lives, letting their relationship as brothers develop both of their style as individual musicians, but has also eventually allowed for the collaborative magic that is Tonstartssbandht. Andy specifically remembers first starting to sing in choirs and play in school bands with his brother when he and Edwin were 10 and 12 years older respectively. Moreover, their father had been a musician his whole life, so even at home they were encouraged to play and sing together as a family. In Andy’s own words, "There was always lots of singing in our house, either while we worked or played or just killed time, bored as shit as a kid. We’d belt out anything we liked all around our home." Gradually, the Whites’ music making became marginally more constructive as they started playing in a "band" as teenagers, which usually consisted of jamming with other kids they knew in Orlando. In highschool, they play in a number of ‘noise and ‘psyche ensembles,’ with names like NASA, Buttsavage, and Great Feelings. Although this story of their adolescence
paints a picture of a perfectly productive partnership from the start, Andy claims that the experience really began as a mixed bag. At the onset of playing together as the duo that would become Tonstartssbandht, Andy and Edwin routinely jammed in the same free form manner which was constitutive of their previous groups with other members. They would "rudimentarily record these jams for fun and listen back to ideas [they] thought sounded nice." Their first, focused recording project, however, was intended to be a trackfortrack cover album of arguably the most ambitious Beach Boy records, Smiley Smile and Wild Honey, but they petered out only a few songs into the endeavor. Abandoning the cover album, however, was not for lack of engagement, but attributed instead to the fact that they became so excited by the recording process that they were compelled to work on music which was their own. Thus, in 2007, Tonstartssbandht began to take the shape and sound that they embody and expand upon today. After Edwin left Florida for NYC and Andy moved to Montreal, Tonstartssbandht became a means of maintaining a longdistance relationship between the brother’s while they lived in their respective areas. The musical dynamic which resulted "involved a lot of solo writing and intense jam/record sessions whenever [they] could visit one another." Subsequently, the brothers began to spend time in each other’s cities with and for increased frequency and durations before finally moving in together in Brooklyn in 2012. If one is interested, go back into the Tonstartssbandht discography (and the discographies of EOLA and ANDY BOAY, Edwin and Andy’s respective solo projects,) and examine how their individual movements around North America affected musical output. Andy believes their recent proximity "has changed [their] dynamic into a better live band simply from playing together more and also probably unconsciously exercising the fraternal sibling mindmeld thing: doing things together, having fun, eating food, sitting in the same room not
talking, running errands, also talking sometimes. You know, stuff that people who live together do." Moreover, spending so much time, has allowed for them to share "as close of a sonic reference background as anyone would want with their bandmate, from shared exposure to "what music is" at the earliest age to growing up together and introducing each other to different sound." There is always subjective preference at play, and no one, even brothers, can be said to uphold the exact same tastes. These individual tastes do not cause conflict among them during the music making process. "I guess we’re frequently on the same page," Andy states, "or maybe there’s no page to be on in the first place and we all should just gently blow open each other’s hearts and heads." Furthermore, as a testament to the lack of conflict between the two of them, Andy and Edwin tour well together. They both "share a profound love of the world, strangers, new settings and situations," Andy insists, "so tour is always a special and shared satisfaction of those passions. Luckily for us, aside from being just brothers and, probably more importantly, Edwin and I are friends." On a personal level, this final statement resonates with me immensely. My own brother and I have struggled to play music together all of our lives, allowing our creative differences to affect our friendship rather than reaffirm it. With Andy and Edwin as my muses, however, I feel encouraged to try and work with him again, revisit the productive relationship I know to be possible between two people who grew up together. Tonstartssbandht lead by example, a testament to creative achievement possible when brothers combine their productive talents and magnify them by powers of love and friendship. So, do not let the Natty Ice drinkers or hypermasculine collarpoppers confuse you, Tonstartssbandht are the best kind of bros.
words by preston ossman photograph by danny krug
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cosmos
At some point listening through the forty five albums on the Frankie Cosmos bandcamp I had a realization: I am listening to an account of everything that has happened in songwriter Greta Kline’s life over the past two years.
Describing herself a "compulsive songwriter," Kline says, "Nothing is off the table. I definitely treat a lot of it like a diary. It’s interesting for me to write about something right when it happens and then write about it again later with more perspective. So in that way I use songwriting to process what I’m going through." But don’t get confused, the songs are not all autobiographical. "A lot of my songs are also fiction, or based on something that didn’t happen to me, or that is from another time in my life. But either way the subjects/concepts are always reflecting something I’ve been thinking about." Kline has been releasing playfully catchy songs under the Frankie Cosmos moniker since 2012 and as Ingrid Superstar before that since 2009. Often compared to Beat Happening or the Moldy Peaches, Kline’s wry insights drift through effortless melodies over mostly minimal accompaniment on acoustic guitar or Casio keyboards. This year, after putting out over forty albums online, Frankie Cosmos released Zentropy, their first proper studio effort. Pulling favorite songs from previous releases and giving them a fresh fullband makeover, Zentropy is simple and direct while still packing a hefty punch. Spanning ten songs and clocking in under twenty minutes, Kline addresses topics of longing, loss and grief with a fresh languid perspective. Arrangements are tight and powerful, featuring simple guitar, bass, melody and harmony voices. But Frankie Cosmos’ big new studio album hasn’t slowed Kline down any, there are already two newer releases on the Frankie Cosmos bandcamp. "I’ll definitely continue to write and record at home as much as possible, I think it’s important to keep creating all the time and keep the channel open. I try
to treat it as an exercise and try not to sweat what people are gonna think." That said, the Frankie Cosmos sound for future releases will likely feel more like Zentropy than the earlier garageband-recorded releases. "I think I’m gonna try to stick with studio album releases for a bit, I’ve become a little pickier about what gets compulsively ‘released’ and what I should be saving for the next record." Of course, Kline gets help in the song-culling process help from her newfound bandmates. "I’m definitely trying to learn how to decide which ones are the hits and which ones are garbage. But getting other peoples advice/input has made it easier."
plan to start recording again with Hunter Davidsohn in Binghamton when we get back from tour!" But before they do, here’s a brief and mostly random survey of past Frankie Cosmos releases to get you caught up on the sound.
While Frankie Cosmos was and is Kline’s alter-ego, there is also Frankie Cosmos the band which consists of Kline on guitar and vocals, Kline’s boyfriend Aaron "Ronnie Mystery" Maine on drums, Aaron’s brother David "David Mystery" on bass and Gabby "Gabby Teardrop" Smith on keyboards and vocals. The lineup evolved over time with Kline adding members as needed. "We scaled up in pieces...first it was me solo, then Aaron joined on the drums. Then David joined on the bass about a year later, and then we were gonna do a full band tour but he was in school so we got Gabby to cover for him on bass. But then we wanted Gabby to stay in the band so we added her on keyboard. That’s the whole band!" The group tours regularly, playing a choice selection from the Frankie Cosmos catalog. "We have about 20 songs in rotation, we change the sets based on the sound at the venue or how the audience seems. If they’re attentive and awesome, we’ll play our quieter/ sparser songs, like Too Dark. Otherwise we’ll just play the more rocky ones." With a widely acclaimed new album and a national tour, Frankie Cosmos is making their mark on the scene. But don’t expect them to slow down, they’re already hard at work on the next one! "We don’t really have time to write or have band practices while we’re on the road, but I’ve been writing in my notebook and a little bit of music..excited to put together some cool new songs when I get home to my work space... We ISSU E 1 2
songs i made. hi
brown cow chockmilk
ingrid you’ve done it again
The first proper Frankie Cosmos release is the aptly titled "Songs I Made. Hi." Only five songs, the longest one clocking in at 1:09. Still sonically dissonant and clattery like the Ingrid Superstar releases. The lyrics are full of constantly-moving ideas. A forward energy with few repeated words.
It’s tough to hear the vocals in these mixes, everything is sooo lo-fi. It feels like there’s a tension between wanting to be heard and not wanting to be heard. As though she’s not yet confident in her lyrics.
The description on this album says: "this is probably the worst album i dont recommend it" But then it’s only nine one-minute songs so what the hell?
Best lyric (also song title): new york is colder without a lover maybe i’ve only loved in the summer
The clear winner on this record is good grief. It’s sort of a country/punk number enumerating all the things Frankie’s beloved does that she can’t stand (the way you look at me, close your eyes, comb your hair) always winding up to the chorus: "I can’t stand the way you make you wanna kill you all the goddamn fucking time." It’s kind of clunky, but it works and it describes a distinct feeling. Misery and longing coming out of a requited love is to become a theme in the work of Frankie Cosmos. It’s a really interesting corner of experience you don’t hear addressed much elsewhere.
The best kinds of confessional songwriting are like letters. One person saying something powerful and specific and radically true to another person as economically as possible. Frankie’s catching ahold of that vibe here especially on the "69 Love Songs" evoking "sounds with jom": "Listen here now baby / you’re a baby but I like it / maybe we could try it one more time before we die"
telescoping
i’m bad news
much ado about fucking
Man there’s so much going on in these songs it’s like reading a novel. My favorite from this album comes from "L is for Lonely but it’s also for lovely" "dog boys in cars and white boys in the park / punk boys with cats or dogs that don’t bark / get drunk and smile broad in the back seat / or sit shotgun if you’re really in need"
A lot of songwriters I know collect different bits of songs and then try putting them together to see if they work. Many of the songs on "i’m bad news" are literally a collection of shorter recordings laid out in a row, which why not? Whatever it takes to get the thing done.
In contrast to "i’m bad news" these songs are fully-realized and self-contained. The production values are still lo-fi but they’re rising, you can definitely hear the vocals/lyrics better on this record than the previous ones.
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The best lyric on this one also comes from the song with the best title - relevant song i wrote biking two years ago: "Let’s dance at the show, i wanna hold your hand / I don’t wanna love you but let’s dance lovingly / I don’t wanna be your girlfriend but i want you to like me"
"cryb aby" "Cry baby, there’s no one else / I hate my body I hate myself" These songs feel like readymades, the kinds of things that just pop into your head. Which is to say they’re hooker than previous Frankie Cosmos songs. The nice thing is that it feels like she’s confident enough to put the idea down and leave it alone.
sickerwinter
separation anxiety
thanks for everything
"bango" Lots of banjo on this one, including the song bango. Is this the FC country album? Lots of sliding up through blues notes in the vocals, I think it is.
This one has got some very forthright statement ideas. It feels like she was listening to a lot of mid-period Beatles/ early solo John Lennon.
The best lyric award goes to "smoke da chronic" "Can’t get you offa my mind, can’t get you out of my head / I don’t wanna have to die I just wanna be dead"
My favorite is "Field Day" "Field day got rained out / So we all sat around" What an image! A time, a place, a feeling. All in one short line.
The production values are steadily going up across these releases. It’s interesting how many of these songs are about the misery and longing that occur within a normal, settled ostensibly-functional relationship. That’s a great perspective and you don’t hear it much. Best lyric; from "when": "you are my arms you are my legs you make me crazy and you make me eggs"
words by isaac gillespie photograph by danny krug
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instagram irl shows, parties, lazy sundays and other weird experiences
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STUFF WE’RE LISTENING TO AND THINK YOU’LL DIG
Prince - Art Official Age
Honduras - Break
Chumped - Thats The Thing Is Like....
Benjamin Booker - S/T
Weezer - Everything Will Be Alright In The End
Death From Above 1979 - The Physical World
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