CONTRIBUTORS: EDITOR-IN-CHIEF: MARY DAHLMAN BEGLEY EDITORS: A. NOAH HARRISON, CISCO HAYWARD, JACKSON HUDGINS, SAM KEYES, SOPHIE KISSIN, IAN MERCER, HENRY SOUTHWICK, SAM WATSON, BEN WEDIN FORMATTING: MDB, SEBASTIAN BOUKNIGHT, DAVID DEMARK, CISCO HAYWARD, JACKSON HUDGINS, SAM KEYES, IAN MERCER, SAM WATSON ILLUSTRATION: SAM WATSON COVER, P. 4, 31, 32 MDB P. 4, 11-15 JACKSON HUDGINS P. 27, 28 JAKE YANOVIAK P. 8 WRITERS: MDB, SEBASTIAN BOUKNIGHT, FRIDA COTA, DAVID DEMARK, A NOAH HARRISON, CISCO HAYWARD, JACKSON HUDGINS, SAM KEYES, SOPHIE KISSIN, STEPH LEE, IAN MERCER, ANDY NELSON, DAVID PICKART, HENRY SOUTHWICK, CHRISTOPHER TASSAVA, BEN WEDIN, JAKE YANOVIAK
LETTER FROM THE EDITOR: Issue number 2 is chock full of great articles. David’s long-format piece about a little-known, barely-listenable emo album is full of the angst you need when it is sunny out. Christopher Tassava, a real life adult, proves his cool guy cred on page five. We’ve got not one but two interviews with obscure rappers that show off the quirky vocabulary necessary to be an obscure rapper. Sam Watson did it again with his goofy-ass illustrations a la Daniel Johnston. We will have one more issue coming out this term. I’ll be getting the hell out of town as soon as I get my diploma, so let me know if you want to take over. Or maybe you were scared to join the zine team until I graduated. Your chance is near! The wicked witch’s departure is impending! Being self-deprecating in these letters is just too easy. Have a read, blow your nose, smoke a cigarette, order ten pizzas. Spring term, no dignity. -MDB
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
SOUND OFF WITH SAM KEYES................................................................2 THE PEANUT GALLERY.............................................................................4 AVEY TARE’S SLASHER FLICKS BY CISCO HAYWARD.....................4 THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME BY CHRISTOPHER TASSAVA........5 TAMMY WYNETTE IS NOT A FEMINIST BY JACKSON HUDGINS....6 IAN MERCERS’S ILLUSTRATED FEELINGS........................................7 THE BEST RAPPER BY JAKE YANOVIAK...........................................8 NEW MUSIC REVIEWS.......................................................................9 FUCK YOUR EMOTIONAL BULLSHIT BY DAVID DEMARK.....................11 THE ICONIC COLUMNS...........................................................................16 WORLDLY MUSIC BY SEBASTIAN BOUKNIGHT..............................16 LILA DOWNS BY FRIDA COTA.........................................................17 LOUD NOISES BY SAM KEYES.........................................................18 HEAD2HEAD WITH DAVID PICKART AND IAN MERCER................19 JUST NOISE? BY HENRY SOUTHWICK.............................................20 A SCHISM IN THE WU-TANG BY BEN WEDIN..................................21 INTERVIEW WITH COSMOS’S MIDNIGHT BY STEPH LEE...............22 POSTMODERN MUSIC BY A. NOAH HARRISON.............................23 CLASSIFIEDS............................................................................................24 CONCERT REVIEWS................................................................................25 GEORGE JONES......................................................................................27 SHOW CALENDAR...................................................................................29 LISTS.........................................................................................................31 BANJO RIFF BY HENRY SOUTHWICK..............................................31 SEXY SONGS BY SOPHIE KISSIN.....................................................32
Sound
OFF
Dr. Ian Mercer III, Ph.D. The first song that I ever remember actively loving was “Stella Was a Diver and She Was Always Down” off of Interpol’s 2002 album Turn on the Bright Lights. I first heard it blasting through the walls at full volume from my elder brother’s room. He was in the typical high school angsty 10th grade phase of his life, and thus he was resorting to loud and sad music as his therapy. I remember opening the door (I must have been in 5th grade) and seeing him sitting on the floor against the wall, staring into space. I sat on his bed across from him as we listened to the track in silence, and I will never forget how moved I was by the awesomeness of Carlos D.’s bass playing. I was too young to understand the verses’ sexual innuendo, but the track was F’ing awesome nonetheless.
Ben Wedin Raffi’s “Banana Phone.” To this day, I am still impressed by his wordplay and all of the things he could do with that banana.
Natalie Reinhart My earliest favorite music was very much influenced by what my parents played at home. I really loved the song “Tall Tall Trees” by Alan Jackson, and it was pretty common for 3-yearold me to get really excited whenever it would come on the speakers, and to dance around the living room and loudly sing as many of the words as I could remember.
Jackson Hudgins I remember lying in bed with my green ipod mini on my chest listening to Ben Kweller’s “My Apartment” on repeat imagining what it would be like to have an apartment, my own cat, a girlfriend, etc. This was around the same time that I was listening to a lot of Ben Folds and when people asked me what kind of music I liked I would usually respond, “stuff made by people named Ben.”
David DeMark My Dad was always a pretty huge music geek, so I was exposed to a lot growing up, usually along the lines of Jazz or older R&B. I remember being around three in our apartment in Brooklyn and refusing to sleep each night unless my parents put on the soothing sounds of Al Green for me. Something about that buttercream-smooth voice just got to me--I guess it still does.
Zoe Levin My mother used to play the soundtrack to Grosse Pointe Blank a lot when I was growing up. The first song on the CD is “Blister in the Sun” by the Violent Femmes and I absolutely loved it. I would always dance to it by tracing the designs on the carpet we had in our living room.
Sam White Rain King-Counting Crows They were the first band I found for myself. I specifically remember buying the album at Val’s Halla, a local record store who’s owner had a growling voice and was always eating Chinese food.
Cyrus Deloye When I was a young and naive boy I remember my father was flipping through the 6 channels we had (pre-cable, obvsly) and he lingered for longer than usual on a singing program much like American Idol. On said show, a man dressed up as Freddie Mercury proceeded from a grand piano to a large, stepped stage and belted out “Bohemian Rhapsody.” This being my first hearing of Bohemian Rhapsody, it was afterwards explained to me who the contestant was imitating, who Queen was, etc. etc. The point is, I was smitten. Bicycle, bicycle! So one day in the near future, I’m on my dad’s fat-ass 90s mac desktop computer, in his office, trying to look up lyrics to Queen songs, so I think to type in Queen.com, because obviously Queen. com was Queen’s official website, where Queen song lyrics obviously were to be found. Noooope. Queen.com is a hardcore porn site, and perhaps it was 20 pop-up windows that appeared even after I hastily clicked the main Queen.com window shut. I still love Queen. And I still love Bohemian Rhapsody. That song is the entire world’s anthem. But unfortunately my memory of my first favorite song is forever tethered to my first experience with porno.
Pat Dale “Pissin’ In the Wind” by Jerry Jeff Walker. When I was young, my Dad had a pickup truck with a double sided cassette tape (One side was Jimmy Buffet and the other Jerry Jeff Walker). My brother’s favorite side was Jimmy Buffet, but I thought he was too soft to be a country music star. To me, nothing was more satisfying than having to pull of on the side of the road while listening to that song. If you know what I mean...
Joe Willenborg My mom was giving me and my baby brother a bath, I was probably 4 years old. Downstairs my dad put on the album Brother in Arms and as soon as Walk of Life came on, I immediately took to it and the iconic intro. I got out of the bathtub as soon as it ended and walked downstairs to ask my dad to play it again.
Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks from the Perspective of AnCo’s Biggest Groupie
by Cisco Hayward
So in the last issue, David DeMark wrote a review of Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks new album Strange Colors. Being the biggest fan of Animal Collective I know, I had a lot to say about it. Here is most of it: Basically, Avey Tare is fundamental to AnCo’s sound and is no doubt a creative power house for the band, but he is ultimately not the most talented creator of the group. This was evidenced by his solo debut Down There, which was not even on par with Panda Bear’s Tomboy (and definitely not Person Pitch). This was mostly because of Avey Tare’s impeccable ability to write songs that have lots of activity within them but aren’t actually interesting. There were more than a couple songs on Merriweather Post Pavilion and Centipede Hz which feature the trademark Avey Tare tropes: incomprehensible lyrics about looove, overly warble-d vocals, and this general “sounds like a fishtank” quality which gets old. These “Avey Tare” songs are like psychedelic eyesores on the projects they appear on, and are easily the low points of whatever they appear on. So when I was listening to Slasher Flicks with David Demark two weeks ago, I was struck by how good the album got when Avey Tare steered clear from his baseline tropes. Without a doubt, the best songs on that album all step away from the warbly, watery, and (by this point) uninspired Avey clichés. That said, those songs don’t feel like they lack Avey Tare
either. His presence can be felt everywhere on the album, but sometimes you can have too much of a good thing. Avey Tare needs to be reined in, because otherwise he just pours water on mixer board and calls it an album. Much like John Lennon stopped Paul McCartney from writing sappy bullshit, Avey Tare needs someone to keep him in check. When Avey Tare is the cherry on top rather than the whole sundae, things turn out way better, and Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks is the newest piece in a long list of evidence for the claim.
sam watson
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Letting my iPod serve up a random mix of songs the other day, I was surprised at the continuity between the “new” music that I like now and the “old” music that I liked when I was attending college (almost but not quite half my life ago), not working at one. I started my first year at Macalester just a few weeks before Nevermind and Trompe le Monde came out, and most of my listening since then has been an effort to find music that rocks like those albums – music that is equal parts snarl, melody, and edge.
Cloud Nothings, or the War on Drugs does not rock in the same ways, or in ways that are the same plus twenty-some years. So what, then? Maybe this continuity means only that I’m lame. That’s actually likely, but I can (lamely?) attest to the fact that my musical tastes have grown in a least a few new directions (jazz, Kanye, Beyoncé, post-rock instrumental stuff). Maybe this continuity means that rock itself is lame. That, too, is actually likely, though I don’t have enough knowledge to prove it (or disprove it).
Alternatively, and either grandioseTwo things follow from this. ly or mundanely, I like to think that First, both those albums, and at college me’s favorite bands invented least a few other documents of a new kind of music or at least deciNineties “alt rock” by Nirvana, sively transformed music they themthe Pixies, and other artists (Unselves had inherited. They didn’t cle Tupelo, Radiohead, Pavement, invent a genre (this ain’t be-bop or Sleater Kinney) are as close to free jazz, and Kurt Vile is usually timeless as anything that rock closer to Dire Straits than to Nirvahas produced in my lifetime, or na), but they created space for a kind since rock was invented at the of music that still speaks to me, and beginning of my parents’ lifetime. apparently to others – the loud/quiet Listening to them doesn’t just dynamics, the good old guitar freak“take me back” in a nostalgic way: outs, scream-singing, lyrics on dark these musicians’ songs are current psychological topics. I can’t wait to and immediate and urgent. Sure, hear the next new album that takes “Little Eiffel” is now something I those qualities and makes something can share with my kids (who won- new from them. der why on earth he’s screaming like that, and what “aerodynamic” means), but still: the tune kills. The second thing that follows from the evergreen qualities of the best music of my “college years” (a phrase that is 110% gross) is that stuff like that is still what gets my heart pounding and my brain buzzing. I can’t blast that music from my Aiwa boombox in a dorm room at 11 p.m. (if I ever did – did I?), but goddamn if music released in the last year or two by Kurt Vile,
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TAMMY WYNETTE IS NOT A FEMINIST “Stand By Your Man” is one of the most iconic songs in country music history. When it was released in September of 1968 it was an instant hit, one that catapulted Tammy Wynette to superstardom. It’s ranked number #1 on Country Music Television’s 100 Greatest Country Songs of all time. This is because it is a really great song. So why do so many people hate it? Why do contemporary female country artists resent it? Why is Tammy Wynette remembered as an anti-feminist, as the “little woman standin’ by her man?” (Hillary Clinton, responding to what she was not.) The answer is because the song itself can come off too pro-patriarchy if you want it to. But it can also go the other way. Textual criticism is tough because there’s not much there, and it’s really a matter of what you project into it. Wynette and her writing partner Billy Sherril wrote the song in under 20 minutes. Neither of them thought it would be a hit. It was one of the first songs Tammy had ever written and when she played it for George Jones he thought it was pretty bad. So her initial relationship with the song was one of resentment. After it got big she warmed up to it, but she didn’t think much of it at first.
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BUT MAYBE SHE IS BY JACKSON HUDGINS
You can argue the song was a hit because it exploited the patriarchal affinity of country listeners, but I don’t think you can really condemn someone to a life of being the antifeminist sucker of the country music world for a love song she co-wrote in less than half an hour at the beginning of her career. Wynette was literally forced to defend that song until she died. She maintained it was about accepting someone despite their flaws. TW was singing from some real, down home experience. She is the tragic country queen. She grew up dirt poor and picked cotton from the time she could walk. She married her first husband before she graduated high school and he was a dick. They had three kids before she left and took them all to Nashville, singing in dive bars to get by. Then she married Don Chapel, who she left for George Jones, (the booziest booze hound of country music, who reportedly once fired a shotgun at her in a drunken rage) who she divorced in 1975.
She would marry two more times and have an affair with Burt Reynolds before she died.
So the hurt in her songs is the hurt of her heart. That’s why her stuff is so raw, G.
She was a woman who was not afraid to go it alone, but who also kept remarrying drunken assholes. She built her career on her own talent. She moved to Nashville with three kids and no job and became the first country musician to go platinum. She speaks about her tumultuous relationships with grace, and has fondness for the men she has loved and left. She appreciates little things like having the door held open for her, or a chair pulled out. She continued to record with George Jones for 10 years after divorcing him. What does that make her? Too complicated for 500 words and cursory internet research. We should all read her autobiography and at least one of the two biographies on her life if we want to know more, I think.
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THE BEST RAPPER YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF I think I first met Chinedu (Emerald Ahymo) in the summer of ’09. He was practically a statue in Rittenhouse Square. If you were coming through, you couldn’t miss him, and you didn’t want to. Chin would start freestyling out of no where and it felt so crazy that such a talented rapper could be sitting next to you, shooting the shit and smoking an L. He was notorious for rapping his way back stage at concerts and smoking up famous rappers. How was he not signed? A couple arrests and you’re in the system, get profiled and pulled over in a sting where a cop singles you out and your path to fame gets delayed and diverted. Chin has put up with a lot and had to hustle some, but he has also risen above the riff raff and wack shit to create Cult Fortified, a rap collective under which he has used many pseudonyms. Norm Rockwell, Emerald Oddyss/ Da Zappa/Jyah, to name a few. He is a perplexing character because it seems at times that he wants to deny fame and attention, yet at the same time it is hard to believe that such a prolific and motivated artist can really feel that way. It’s admirable and impressive how he acts as godfather of the underground, supporting friends and fellow rappers and putting any desires for name recognition and fame aside, preferring absurdity, novelty, and ownership of his persona even if it means limiting the reach of his art. The third track, ‘Hologram,’ on his new album The Chaotic Neutral, he asks himself, “Who would I be if it wasn’t for pizza and reefer” before taking the listener on a cosmic drugged out journey. Honesty and introspection square
BY JAKE YANOVIAK
off with a violent and degenerate alpha male mentality. The album oscillates between catchy bars, and clever rambling all the while integrating obscure and well-crafted samples into crunchy beats and melodic backing tracks. Listen closely to catch all of the subtle nuances of Emerald’s wordplay and self-reflexive references. Each listen will reveal something new. I had the opportunity to ask Chinedu a few questions about his thoughts on rap, drugs, and what the future holds: When did you start rapping? I began rapping around the time toy story came out, but didnt take it seriously til like... 10th grade? Who are some of your major influences? Id say my influences are like, Busta Rhymes, DOOM, MC Juice, Very Earl Eminem How was Cult Fortified conceived of/ created? I once imagined a group of unfathomably ill alter egos in an amalgamation called Cult Fortified, around the time when we were called the reservoir dogs, but we canned it, cuz Skillz, Nickleous F and some other bul took that name (and never even used it), so it was between cult fortified and ninja dose lol. 8
How many (what are the) different names have you rapped under? Why so many? I used to be Norm RockWell, but like, yea... So then it was Mr. Emerald (cuz of the res dogs thing) Then I chose a surname for Emerald, changed it twice cuz I outgrew em, and not its just Emrld Ahymo. Why do you rap? I rap, cuz its extremely interesting, just the way it works and what it does, its super fun, its like word math/science sometimes, like sudoku (which Im not good at) Do you want to be famous? I wanna be internationally recognized and respected as an Artist, everything else comes with the territory I feel Do you have any anecdotes about interactions with other rappers or just funny shit in general? This one time, I wrote a rap bar “smoking special herbs and spices waiting on Doomsday” and then I ate mushrooms and later that day met a rapper named DOomsDay in writtenhouse who was the best rapper I had ever met in my life, coincidence? yea sure, why not. How have drugs affected your style and mindset? Drugs change the way that the brain connects abstracts, so they kinda geared me in the direction of a more obscure perspective(s) What does the future hold for Cult Fortified? World wide success maybe, Do some chidrens books, start a relgion (cuz thats where the real cash is y’kno?) Open up a school, make a sitcom about unfocused creatives tryna get on, who knows. Search ‘cultfortified’ on bandcamp and soundcloud, and come by the KRLX Record Library to hear the new album.
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10
Sam Rudich
9:52 AM, 2/5/13 The 16 bus I needed to get on pulled away before I was halfway to the intersection. As I lament my impending lateness to linear algebra lecture, with no more reason to hurry now that my journey through the cold has been extended, I decide to spend some quality time dreading the coming day. I had just gotten my first job at a nearby coffee shop, and suddenly there were far too few hours in the day. Adult life is a chaotic mess of a train station and I had decided to chase every train I could. It felt like I hadn’t slept in a week and I was staring down the barrel of four consecutive classes with the glimmering oasis of eight cups of coffee at work all too far away. Walking a bit faster to make it over that horrible fucking Ayd Mill Road bridge on Hamline in my toothin jacket, it hits me. I need to hear that album that made no impression on me when I listened to it the other day. I put on Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit, and from John Galm’s first desperate yelp, I’m sucked in. I find myself just twelve minutes later out of breath on my seat on the bus with tears of equal parts wind chill, sleep deprivation and emotion welling in my eyes.
I’ve been wasting this fucking year on the idea of getting up and moving on, but I wait around, just emptying bottles in the basement of the Slovak center on my side of town. It’s a major fucking bummer.
Would it have dulled the impact of Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit if Snowing had stayed around long enough to make anything more than one album since it? In an ideal world, context would have nothing to do with what makes a record special and we’d all live in a utopian meritocracy, but we’re humans and we’re drawn to the idea of the one-hit wonder. The one that flew too close to the sun and so on and so forth. Snowing was meant to die because there’s simply no other way that it could have turned out. Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit is a singular moment in art, a perfectly preserved time capsule of emotion and energy. The album possesses a mystical importance, a bastion of emotion that always has been and always will be.
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Important Things (Specter Magic) Same day, 2:43 PM
Jesus Christ, David. We don’t have to do this every day, do we? I’m on my way home from class and once again I’m doing my hardest to stifle the urge to ride the bus just a little bit further and go over to the Himalayan gift shop where she works. My heart is pounding and I’m sweating bullets. I haven’t seen her in five weeks. Decision time approaches. We rumble past Cleveland, Prior, Fairview, and finally Snelling. I motion to get up, but think better and sit back down. I’m not sure when I made the conscious decision to put Snowing on again, but as I’m bracing myself for the bitter walk to Tibet Arts, “Important Things” fades into “Pump Fake,” and I know that today’s the day I end the all-too-long silence
This is the song that will most likely bore you; this is the song that will most likely put you asleep Snowing doesn’t sound like a band that should be good. The guitar has a noodly, meandering aesthetic, Galm is anything but a traditionally good singer, and the mixing is downright terrible. The entire album sounds like it was recorded in a basement, an aesthetic that can be off-putting at first, but over repeated listens it becomes as essential an aspect as anything else related to the album. Just as a friend’s little physical flaws and personality quirks can become endearingly familiar over time, Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit’s humanity pours out through the cracks in its flimsy armor. John Galm and Ross Brazuk aren’t sitting atop their ivory tower delivering their perfect gift to us mortals, they’re just guys; tumbleweeds on the existential plane, fumbling around for meaning and trying desperately to figure out what the fuck you have to do just live a goddamn LIFE just like the rest of us. Listening to Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit can be an intimately comfortable experience, provided the listener drops his guard to the same extent the band does. 12
Pump Fake
3:00 AM, 5/22/13
Lia’s house grows distant behind me. My bike is barely staying upright on the rain-slicked street, but that tenuous balance seem to be the only thing not crashing down around me. The narrative arc of the last few weeks ended in an appropriately melodramatic climax of disappointment. Of course it was him, of course it was that concert (that fucking flying lotus concert that FUCKING flying lotus concert), of course she had to be drunk when she told me, and of course this whole thing was bound to end like this. I had been chasing after nothing for weeks, and I was just as miserable as I was when I started.. All of those left-over muffins I brought her after work, all the time I spent begging her to snap out of her depressive trance enough to not fail our psychology final, all of those nights listening to music in silence while she wept, they were all just part of some girl-drunk idiot feedback loop. I leave a blubbering, incoherent message on my friend Sophie’s voicemail, and not sure what else to do, I keep biking. Eventually I end up on the banks staring down into the Mississippi river, for no reason other than that I’m eighteen years old and this feels like what an eighteenyear-old should be doing at a time like this. Between school, work, Lia and everything else, I had been pushing myself much too hard and I was exhausted. I light up a joint (that was supposed to be shared with you, Lia) and put on Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit for what feels like the millionth time. As each song progressively washes the tension out of my trembling shoulders, I stare into the sky, a tiny speck in a strange universe.
So when did cigarettes start cluttering your hands? I ponder this some nights alone when I undress. And what do you do with those boys I see you with, or better yet, what would I do if you came back? I’d say no, or I hope I could, but I still want you There’s something to be said for subtlety, but I’ve found that as I’ve grown older, I’ve become more and more inclined towards the bleeding-heart emotional. Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit is as loaded with angst as the title suggests, but what sets it apart on the overcrowded Emo landscape is how genuinely it’s expressed. There’s a distinct universality to what’s tormenting the album’s beleaguered protagonist, and each word is delivered with devastating sincerity. The philosophy of naked surrender with which Snowing approaches songwriting and lyric-crafting is why Galm can take the listener to the exact place he’s in when he threatens to cut his arms off if you leave or tells you that he’ll explode if he doesn’t kiss you right now. From another musician it would be melodramatic, but Snowing takes ownership of the emotional nature of their music in a way that sets them apart.
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Kirk Cameron Crowe 1:17 AM, 9/5/13 The taste in the air couldn’t be making it more clear that summer is almost over. Carleton is in three days and I’m staring up at the construction rafters underneath where that dreaded Hamline bridge used to be. I was trying to hold on to that one night when we climbed onto the rafters beneath the cement pillars and she almost seemed to want to be around me. July had come and gone and with it ended my latest subplot. Whether it could even be called a relationship, whatever I had with Julia had me half-convinced that I never wanted a relationship again. Upset with myself for digging up old graves, I get back into my mother’s car and return to my restless latenight driving. Tonight’s a warm night, and Saint Paul is littered with the ghosts of people I wished were around to populate the lonely streets and keep me company on my nostalgia trip through the city. I pass the part of the river where that cop shooed us away that one time early on, and the park where we once made lists of what we hated about ourselves.
With my well-worn burnt copy of Fuck Your Emotional Bullshit firing up on the car’s stereo, I decide to let the road lead me somewhere. Eventually I realize that I had driven myself straight to Lia’s house, erasing three months of progress in a single move. Resigning myself to my own shame, I park my car just out of sight from her window until the album is finished.
I can’t be trusted, I’m lost without a reason, but I think I could love you--if only you would stop staring at me. When the sentences I make don’t turn out right, I cannot handle it.
I can’t quite tell if this is a David thing or just a human thing, but I’ve been very drawn to narratives, especially lately. Going to college has this strange tendency to separate life into episodes, and each week, a new storyline is played out to its entirety. Life is satisfying when it partitions itself so cleanly into digestible stages of progression, and is satisfying for the same reason. Each song is a distinct adventure within itself, boiling up to whatever the inevitable climax at the end is, and the album flows through its duration fantastically naturally. It makes for an experience that seems far longer than twelve minutes. The album ends on a dissonant note of mixed optimism, with the protagonist drained from the emotional gauntlet he’s been through as the music swells to a happy close. The contrast is still jarring after who-knows-how-many listens.
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Methuselah Rookie Card I’ve been living like a sailor
4:28 AM, 11/15/13
Up late working on a seemingly endless 20-page essay alone in the fourth Goodhue lounge again. I haven’t seen a soul since around midnight. I check my phone. Missed call from Sophie, hours ago. She’s definitely asleep now. I put on Snowing and think about home
My sea legs are breaking down 12:47 AM, 1/3/14 I’m driving down University to take my friend Ruth home. We’re listening to Kirk Cameron Crowe when the car hits a skid and the brakes fail. Just as the car starts to slip, Galm’s voice exclaims “...and when the breaks lock and we’re really gonna die.... I give up everything and scream I love you!” The car slides back into control, we share a surprised look, a beat of silence and break into laughter.
I’ve been living like a sailor
5:30 AM, 4/25/14 As I listen to the finishing moments of Methuselah Rookie Card, I realize that I’m now the last of the six or seven people in the room to fall asleep. Most of us don’t live here, but the room is still like this almost every night. Looking around at the beautiful group of unconscious people, I realize that I’ve never felt more at home. The world is a strange, confusing, lonely place, but there are times when you can forget that.
My sea legs are breaking down
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THE ICONIC COLUMNS statuesque columns from your favorite contributors
WORLDLY MUSIC by Sebastian Bouknight
{A few great, richly produced albums coming from trans-continental collaborations between African and European musicians that I’ve been listening to recently}
Dimanche à Bamako [Sunday in Bamako] - Amadou and Mariam This one’s a classic. It marries the sparse, bluesy, jeli music of the Malian musical couple Amadou and Mariam with frenetic, punky sound of French musician Manu Chao. The product is a killer album that brightens a room and sounds like driving through Bamako on a busy, sunny day. Admittedly, Chao’s reggae feel, dense instrumentation, and distinctive vocals dominate the album at times, making it seem more like a Manu Chao album featuring Amadou and Mariam (hear “Politik Amagni,” “Senegal Fast Food,” and “Camions Sauvages”). Though, some cuts come off more distinctly A&M (“Artistiya,” “Beau Dimanche”), with Mariam’s soaring voice and Amadou’s meandering guitar defining the song. Absolutely check this one out, but also look into A&M’s earlier work too, which isn’t as poppy and fun but is really beautiful stuff.
Aljawal [The Traveller] – Débruit & Alsarah Singer, songwriter, activist, and all around rad lady Alsarah was born in Khartoum, Sudan, moving to Brooklyn by way of Yemen in the 90s to escape civil war and persecution. With a gorgeous, powerful voice, a vast knowledge of traditional Sudanese melodies and rhythms, and a deep love for popular Sudanese music, she brings the soul and the substance to this album. Here she works with French electronic producer Débruit to create something stunning and vivid, and quite unlike anything you’ve heard before. Débruit’s expansive and meticulous electronic sounds merge with Alsarah’s moving melodies and Nubian sensibility. Débruit is an observant guy - a kind of sponge of rhythm and melody – and really gets a solid sense of that vibe, transliterating it into wild, bass-heavy electronics. Together they deftly sculpt their towering mixed-media creations (pulling in samples of Sudanese pop and drums as well) without stepping on each other’s toes. This is a stellar collaboration, and one that I hope will produce more fruit in the future. Some key tunes: “Alkoan Baladi,” “Khartoum,” “Jibal alnuba,” “Alhalim.”
A Town Called Addis – Dub Colossus This record rocks hard too. Dub musician and producer Nick Page (Dubulah) worked with Ethiopian musicians in Addis Ababa, including Tsedenia Gebremarkos, Sintayehu Zenebe and Samuel Yirga to craft this heavy set of tunes in 2008. Page lays out his deep dub vibe as a kind of tableau for these mightily skilled Ethiopian artists (bringing ideas from the azmari tradition, 60s Ethiopian Pop, Ethiojazz, and 70s Ethiopian funk) to paint upon. Though their styles span the range of Ethiopian musical traditions, they all carry that distinctive Ethiopian tonality that most Americans raised on major scales and power chords would think of as “haunting.” The sonic atmosphere created by the marriage of these moods and melodies with Page’s dense electronic dub will envelop your body in a delicious and surprising musical soup. . No16 table tracks: “Azmari Dub,” “Yeka Sub City Rockers,” “Entoto Dub,” “Sima Edy.”
Perhaps, Perhaps,
WORLDLY MUSIC
Quizas You May Like Her
by Frida Cota The sound of marimbas is like the sound of dancing bones featured in a Tim Burton film. Without the confinements of muscles and skin, they can move into astounding angles, and they have a sort of grace that makes you want to dance right along with them. Like dancing skeletons, marimbas have a sweet yet brisk sound. They have an awkward grace to them . The notes can only be maintained for a short while, and the only way to prolong the same note is by rolling the mallets on the wooden surface. High school years spent playing the marimba introduced me to the beautiful regional music of southern Mexico, especially from the state of Oaxaca. Songs such as La Llorona, Tehuantepec, and La Sandunga became my favorites to play and listen to. Typing in the names of those songs into the YouTube search tab revealed several interpretations of those songs. An artist that kept coming up in searches of numerous folk songs was Lila Downs. A click on one of her videos was inevitable because she just kepy popping up, and I’m glad I did give in because she turned out to be an artist with
interesting and unique takes on tradional music. There is a heavy use of jazz in some of Downs’ songs as well as electrical instrumentation. Her voice is slightly more pop-oriented than the fuller voices of ranchera singers like Chavela Vargas. Lila Downs offers interpretations of songs that have been played many times before; each time presented slightly differently depending on the circumstances of the performer. She is doing what every other person who plays covers does, but the reason that she’s so popular and that I ended up running into her is that her fusion of several musical styles resonates with many people who can relate to her. These are people who live in this modern world and like today’s music but that can also connect to older music, and people who are strongly defined by more than one culture . Downs keeps the lyrics and melodies fairly similar to more traditional covers of Oaxacan folk music, but she integrates parts of the culture that her American father gave her. Since she grew up in America, she’s an English speaker and she enjoyed American
music such as jazz. These elements are a part of who she is, and she adds them to the other part of herself, which comes from her Mixtecan mother (the Mixteca are an indigenous group in Oaxaca and other southern Mexican states). The beautiful thing about Lila Downs’ interpretations is that they don’t cater solely to Mexicans. Mexicans enjoy her renditions of traditional songs, but people in general who enjoy jazzier music can also find enjoyment in both her original works and covers such as Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps which switches between English and Spanish lyrics. Lila Downs’ commitment to covering many traditional songs from Oaxaca by incorporating a variety of musical styles makes her music worth checking out. If you like what you hear there’s also the Bimexicano: Nuestros Clasicos Hechos Rock album which features popular Mexican artists such as the Jaguares and their awesome covers of traditional Mexican classic songs. 17
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Head to Head: Round 2
Tame
Innerspeaker Impala
David Pickart
Ian Mercer
To the casual listener, Innerspeaker is a carefree trip back to the age of psychedelic rock. The Innerspeaker is more of a solo effort than any- evident accessibility of the pleasing melodies and thing else, having been written and recorded almost rich harmonies makes it hard to imagine the album entirely by Tame Impala’s frontman, Kevin Parker. receiving any actively negative criticism. The album’s dreamlike sound stems from Parker’s To the critic, Innerspeaker is a derivative nos“more the merrier” approach to guitar effects pedtalgia binge through the 1960s complete with a John als, as well as his penchant for drenching vocal tracks Lennon impersonator and an Ummagumma¬ album in reverb and delay effects. Despite his ample use cover. The sterile riffs and unoriginal style make it of studio trickery, Parker never relies too heavily on hard to imagine the album receiving any sort of honpsychedelic sounds to keep his tracks interesting est critical acclaim. throughout Innerspeaker’s lengthy runtime. Instead, To Ian Mercer, Innerspeaker is a collection he writes memorable and melodic guitar and vocal of rewarding guitar tracks that keenly pays homage lines that stand on their own, yet also fit perfectly to a bygone genre without exclusively becoming an into the spaced-out atmosphere he creates on the exercise in invented nostalgia. album. Parker also dials back the effects at certain The album harbors melodies that are catchy points to create moments of refreshing contrast. In enough for the shower, and harmonies simple these moments, where a bright guitar rings out or a enough for the pop fans and rich enough for the mulone voice suddenly emerges from a chorus of sing- sical theorists. It foregoes a lofty conceptual scheme ers, a listener might imagine Parker shaking his head in order to accentuate the riffs and beats that lie at to clear his thoughts before diving back into the hazy the heart of its success. mix from whence he came. However, Innerspeaker is not without faults. Tame Impala’s greatest departure from its Although it certainly doesn’t need an enumerated 60’s influences, and in my opinion the band’s stronoverlying structure, it would benefit from a greater gest suit, is a driving rhythm section that gives each sense of cohesion. The eleven tracks are musical song an energy rarely found in classic psychedelic homages to an unremembered decade, and they rock. These beats, which take cues from a variety of seem like they belong to a random assortment of genres, propel each track forward and prevent the singles or jam sessions rather than a unified whole. album from dragging. An energetic rhythmic backAdditionally, several of the tracks have excessively bone to each song is the perfect complement to repeated choruses leading to runtimes that are sevKevin Parker’s soft vocals and shimmering guitars, eral minutes too long. Finally, the whole thing ends which float above the percussion and threaten to with “I Don’t Really Mind’s” awkward fadeout instead escape the outlines drawn by the steady beat. The of the perfectly concluding guitar tones at the end resulting mood, at once focused and dazed, is Tame of the penultimate track “Runway Houses Cities Impala’s greatest creation. Clouds.” All would be forgiven if the fifty-three minute runtime ended with a decisive finish. My verdict: Although some Youtube commenters may disagree, it’s possible to not be on drugs and My verdict: Innerspeaker suffers from redundancy still thoroughly enjoy this impressive debut album. and a lack of cohesion, but it cannot be faulted for Incorporating the best parts of 60’s psychedelic rock its supposedly derivative style because it more than while maintaining a modern accessibility, Innerspeak- makes up for unoriginality via virtuosity and compoer is great for tuning in and rocking out. sitional skill. 19
Just Noise? Thoughts from Henry Southwick
People are always asking me, “Henry, you gorgeous hunk of man, we think you’re so beautiful, but your music taste is so screamy! Why do you like metal so much? It’s all screaming and noise!” I figured it was about time I compact the lengthy history of metal into a pithy 350 words. Ready, set, metal blitz. First came the simultaneous development of blues-rock, psychedelic rock, and hard rock throughout the 1960’s. Blues-rock developed through artists like Jimi Hendrix and Cream, setting the basis for sexy guitar solos and more fast paced and syncopated rhythms. Hard rock developed throughout the late sixties with the explosion of Led Zeppelin, Thin Lizzy, Deep Purple, and other bands featuring more heavily distorted guitars and creative, alternative vocals. There was a very thin line between the original hard rock and heavy metal (which have both changed definition since). They include the grandfather of all metal, Black Sabbath, as well as Judas Priest and Motorhead. The progression of the 1970’s and the success of bands like Kiss and
AC/DC (hard rock), paved the way for the popularization of metal and new underground movements that eventually exploded. The most significant underground movement that had probably the biggest splash on the metal world (especially in the US) was thrash metal. Thrash metal includes bands like Slayer and Metallica. More melodic bands also developed at this time in the mainstream such as Iron Maiden and Megadeth. These were the last major metal bands that penetrated the mainstream until Avenged Sevenfold, Korn, and System of a Down broke through around the start of the millennium, each with a new hybrid sound. There are (arguably) 30 different genre offshoots of metal now, all drawing influences from other major music waves. If someone were to ask me what my two favorite subgenres are, I would say 1) symphonic metal, mixing in synth backed by guitars (Epica is my favorite), and 2) folk metal, which hybridizes folk music with heavy guitar work. In neither of those will you find only screaming and noise. 20
A Schism in the Wu-Tang: RZA and Raekwon
Written By: Ben “Me and the RZA connect.” This is the shout out Raekwon gave to fellow Wu-Tang Clan member RZA on Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, one of the most iconic albums from the ‘90s. The 1995 RZA-produced album not only solidified Raekwon’s rap career and RZA’s production career, but brought Mafia themes, Cristal, and hustler rap from the East Coast into the mainstream, carried on by Jay-Z in his 1996 album Reasonable Doubt. This line even gets a shoutout from Kanye and Jay-Z on Watch the Throne cut “New Day.” Since then, RZA has remained the principal producer of both the Wu-Tang Clan’s group and solo albums, but the divisions and tensions within the Wu have become more apparent. Don’t be fooled: Wu-Tang did not start as a bunch of friends cyphering, but was rather a product of RZA’s diplomacy. Raekwon has said that he initially “didn’t really fuck with” Ghostface Killah, but RZA “brought all the families together” to form a powerful relationship.
Wedin
tually became Raekwon’s 5th solo album, and did not include any contribution from RZA.
The most recent RZA/Raekwon dispute is about the group’s newest album, A Better Tomorrow. Raekwon has described the dispute as a result of RZA’s desire for total control, an unclear contract, and Raekwon not wanting to settle for an inferior product. RZA has given Raekwon an ultimatum of 30 days to get on board, or else the album may never see the late of day, as RZA wants all living Wu-Tang members to participate. Raekwon participated in the other Wu-Tang album scheduled for release, Once Upon a Time in Shaolin, which will be only one copy and will make appearances in museums before its sale.
So why the conflict on this particular project? The simple answer may be C.R.E.A.M – “Cash rules everything around me.” The members of Wu-Tang are all established names, so a new album is equal to an all-star ensemble film: the budThe two members RZA and Raekwon have had their share of cre- get of the project will not be able ative differences in the past. Rae- to match the compensation indikwon had enough frustration with viduals are used to. But the conflict RZA’s experimental production on also illustrates just how much the Wu-Tang Clan’s 8 Diagrams (2007) artists have developed over 20 that he sought to make Shaolin vs. years. RZA was the entrepreneur/ Wu-Tang, a Wu-Tang group album rapper/producer of the group from the start, but his creative scope that would include all members except RZA. The New album even- has broadened over time.
In the past 6 years, RZA has written a solo album, a movie, guest verses, and a book. He’s also produced movie soundtracks, songs on critically acclaimed albums, and continues his acting/directing career. Raekwon on the other hand, has focused on his rapping career and is currently the most active and commercially successful solo artist of Wu-Tang. In the same 6 years, Raekwon has made two solo albums (his third, F.I.L.A, is set to drop this year), a collab album, guest verses, and nine mixtapes. RZA may be pushing more boundaries with his sounds and ideas, but Raekwon has more output. Since 2013, Raekwon has guest verses on over 30 tracks, while RZA holds only 5 guest verses to his name. The two are still concerned with music, but now have vastly different approaches. If the RZA/Raekwon dispute gets settled, it’s hard to think any new Wu-Tang album will match the energy of 36 Chambers, when the members were coming from Shaolin (Staten Island) so hungry and fierce. The parts of Wu-Tang have become so disparate, that bringing them together to form the invincible Voltron they once were may sound impossible. Until you remember that’s how Wu-Tang started, and if anyone is up to the challenge it’s the RZA. Here’s to hoping for A Better Tomorrow. 21
Cosmo and Pat have been popping up on sorts of radars lately, and for those into the Aussie vibe their names are not new. (See: The Dofflin, Phantasm ft. Nicole Millar, Say My Name Bootleg). Last week I spun my hardcore fangirling into an interview with the super talented, kawaii fraternal twins from Sydney.
What’s an album that has meant a great deal to you, that some may not expect judging by the sound of your production? Nujabes – Modal Soul, in particular the song “Feather”. This song echoes my thoughts regarding music. It’s beautiful when an artist is so in tune with his work and life that he can utilize the innate ability of music to transport you into a transcendental state using only a simple loop and the powerful lyricism of his guest rappers. Tldr: I use this music to go to sleep . What’s an ideal Cosmo’s Midnight show look like? We’re up on stage being hype instead of introverts, our tunes are on point (they usually are anyway). We’re both super busy pressing buttons so it doesn’t get boring and the crowd is vibing SO HARD the security are struggling to keep them at bay. Have there been any weird fan encounters? We’ve had people ask for our signatures or photos, and some girls once swarmed Pat when he was just being a casual spectator at a music festival. But nothing has been creepy and if it has ever been creepy it’s creepy in an endearing way.
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Which Chris Lilley character do you most relate to? Also have you ever seen The Elephant Princess? Wow I can’t really remember them all right now, but I’d probably just say MR G the drama teacher because he thinks he’s so quirky and thinks he’s in the know with the kids. I just found him to be the funniest character really. Sadly the elephant princess doesn’t ring any bells. Everyone’s riders are pretty different…what’s on yours? Very simple actually, some lollies (preferably skittles), some vodka and some mixers (juice or fizzy), 12 beers and two fresh towels. Just because you can’t get enough clean towels in your life <3 I’ve read online you’ve been working on some new stuff for 2014, and likened the sound to a feline producer…care to elaborate? We have lots of cool stuff spanning lots of genres and we’re looking to be getting some great singers. Some of them are ballads, some slow jams, poolside house and some of the original Cosmo’s vibe we started off with, you know, like beats that will hopefully last with the listener for sometime after the headphones are put down. Alright, what’s the best live act you’ve seen thus far? Def DJ Rashad, rest in peace and Teklife ‘til the next life! I’ve never been so engrossed in an entire set ever; I had so much energy and was so absorbed I was left buzzing for ages after.
This Music is, like, so
POSTMODERN by. A. Noah Harrison
I thought I’d give a precursor to an essay I’ll some day finish (you’ll all see!) in which I address the question of how postmodernism might apply to pop music of the last fifty years. To get semantics out of the way, when I say postmodern, I mean a work that demonstrates: conscious self-reflexivity, embrace of and departure from tradition, and use of the readymade…in no particular order, in no particular way. So there we have it. Here, I discuss three records that just ooze postmodernism. They’re all gems, so give each a listen and see what you think. Negativland – Escape from Noise (1987) It wasn’t until sound collage hobgoblin Negativland’s fourth album that they finally get some publicity. Not because it was good, but because the press (mistakenly) reported that its chart-topper “Christianity is Stupid” motivated teenager David Brom to kill his family. (In reality, his parents had just dissed his taste in music, which really pissed him off.) But it was good, and established them as the ultimate sonic dumpster divers of their time, early adopters of the technique known as plunderphonics. Escape from Noise is essentially one giant piece of Orwellian propaganda. Complete with clips from radio broadcasts, government tapes, even samples from real songs, the ideological agenda spews nihilism with anarchist tendencies. Many songs contain Cold War rhetoric from both sides—right wing nutjobs and commie propagandists. In effect, the record simulates the effects propaganda, barraging us with fear and hatred until we are numb.
The KLF – Chill Out (1990) Chill Out is what happens when a London house group decides to take you on a road trip through the American south—and a trip through the last half-century—using ambient psychedelic plunderphony. Don’t make me say that again. Chill Out is a sincere effort: an immersive experience complete with moos and bird calls, TV preachers, Elvis croons, and Tuvan throat singing(?). Like Negativland, The KLF eschewed the mainstream and adopted an anarchist philosophy. The key difference is that they happened to be part of the British rave scene and were one of the most successful groups of the early 90s, which somehow makes it weirder. The whole work is an almost seamless soundscape, soothing and though-provoking. At points in the journey, The KLF seem to channel Pink Floyd or Brian Eno, while at select others, house drumbeats and familiar synth bits creep in. But these are just teasers. It might seem strange that on a house album, the house-y elements have a jarring, almost alien presence, while field recordings and ambient textures feel right at home. Funny to imagine some acne-spotted Liverpudlian teen flailing to this after taking a green pill with Kermit on it. The Avalanches – Since I Left You (2000) Perhaps the greatest plunderphonics (and instrumental hip-hop) record ever is this opus by Melbourne DJ wizards Bobbydazzler, aka Robbie Chater and Darren Seltmannaka, aka The Avalanches. Since I Left You is one of the most comprehensive and painstaking examples of sample-based music in recording history And it’s funky as tits. These guys didn’t play a single note, but instead cherry-picked some 3500 vinyl samples from every bargain bin down unda’. And it’s pretty much the most conspicuous middle finger to copyright law in…a long time.
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It’s a concept album and it’s a vertigo-inducing portal gun through music history. The Avalanches leave no rock unturned: disco, minimalism, funk, traditional pop, bodily noises, some hip-hop. The anonymity yet ubiquity of many of the samples make the record an astounding retrospective of musical achievement. An intricately stitched, ever-evolving tapestry: sometimes achingly soulful, often irresistibly danceable, and now and again, freaky electronic bliss. It’s too much. Hard to say what sociopolitical message might lurk within other than “dance to the music!” But maybe that’s a pretty profound statement for an album like this. Such a cogent coalescence of far-out and eclectic samples reveals the power of the DJ, of the phonic plunderer. The Avalanches listened to more underground music than Ian Mercer dreams about, and they hand-selected some of the grooviest grooves, the bumpinest breaks, the gnarliest riffs, and some hilarious vocal samples to boot. That it’s composed of prerecorded work by almost limitless artists seems to negate inherent any ideological baggage of the readymade. So the conscious assembly of these fragments must have some meaning, whether thematically or within the cultural context of hip-hop and EDM, right? At the very least, it is the greatest tip of the hat any DJ or fan could give to his musical heritage, his influences, his favorite shit.
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black lips at turf club
The Black Lips’ powerful, psychotic-blues style is incredibly absorbing live. I sang along to all my by sam watson favorite tracks with perfect strangers, and at one I’ve been a fan of the Black Lips since point unironically did that goofy hillbilly dance which high school, when I first heard Bad Kids involves grabbing one’s belt buck and kicking side to pumping through my friend’s blown-out car side. I was not the only one. speakers. Although they certainly aren’t When the show came to a close, Alexander dethe only rockabilly punk act, their tenalivered a monologue about hangovers, sunsets, and cious, hell-bent sound and juvenile lyrics dirty women in his charming southern drawl. As he have kept me listening for years. So when neared the end, a sweaty drunk dude up front exI found out they were playing at the Turf tended a palm. Alexander locked eyes with him, and Club I knew I had to go. gave the most solemn high-five I have ever witnessed Although I will admit, I was somewhat hesitant. I love crazy shows, but the Black before exiting the stage. If there ever was a spiritual high-five experience, I’m pretty sure that drunk dude Lips have a reputation. From Wikipedia: “The Black Lips are noted for provocative got it. theatrics- including vomiting, urination, nudity, fireworks, a chicken, and flaming guitars.” Oddly, Wikipedia makes no mention of their penchant for sucking each other off on stage, or guitarist Cole Alexander’s talent for playing his instrument using his cock. I’ll go ahead and spoil it: the show did not involve any sex organs. Which was frankly a little disappointing to me. Like I just want to know how that even works. The opening act Natural Child performed a solid set. Their swingin’, rockabilly vibe (with frequent references to drugs and weird sex) makes them an obvious pairing. by henry southwick In the last issue of No Fidelity, I wrote a review of Although Natural Child is by no means Chevelle’s new album La Gargola. I was extremetame, when the Black Lips came out it ly excited about the album, and then I got to see was like experiencing a manic shift. They them live. This was my second time seeing the band opened with Family Tree, an intense tune in the last 8 months and, holy shit, did they up their with squealing guitar hooks that get all game. The lifeless Loefflers of last summer came flyup inside your head and chest. The audience responded in kind, happily screaming ing back with new energy and a very visual excitement. along and instigating a sweaty, ceaseless The concert was the second 93x radio event I’ve pit. Even though the band didn’t get crazy attended in the last 9 months, and it blew the first that night, that didn’t stop the crowd. Thankfully, the Black Lips are comfortable one out of the water. Chevelle have been popular with chaotic energy: When one enthusiastic for years now, and the people came in droves to drunkard surfed on stage during Drugs and see them live on a Saturday night. Thousands of started yelling the chorus back in Alexanpeople were packed into Myth before the end of der’s face, Alexander lightheartedly tipped the first warm up band (called nothing more, also him back into the crowd with an index excellent), and they proceeded to get loud and finger. No sweat. rowdy. George and I fought our way up to the front
chevelle at myth
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chevelle cont.
row of the pit by the time Chevelle came on at 10. The crowd was screaming and chanting in the pit before the band came on, and a deafening roar exploded when Pete Loeffler was first spotted. When the first notes of “Sleep Apnea” hit, we started jumping and moshing and I think I blacked out a little bit due to happiness overload. The set list was an excellent blend of old and new material that kept the crowd energetic and screaming the whole night. I lost my voice for yelling after the sixth song, “Take Out the Gunman” which was the hit single released off La Gargola. The band kept complimenting the audience throughout the night, talking about how crazy we were, which of course only got us more riled up. In the end, despite our exhaustion, we were still able to give it one last huzzah for a three-song encore, “The Red,” “Send the Pain Below” and “I Get It.” I left exhausted and deaf but happier than a husky. It was an amazing show and an amazing night.
sense of their teenaged attitude. Definitely Nashville country-rock, but with some weirdo experimental themes and flame-fingered shredding. A great foil to the delicate melodies of Angel. Angel started out with her big hit, “HiFive”. I tried desperately not to be a fangirl singing along in the front row because yesIknoweverysinglewordtoyouralbumAngel. Her aloof lack of eye contact added to her ethereal presence. The highlight of the show was when Lil’ Sluggers captain Sam Powell handed me a Sluggers hat to pass up to Angel. She put it on and then played my favorite song, “Forgiven/Forgotten.” Angel’s connection to the campus was so lovable, as was her other-worldly persona and dynamic, divine performance. My only critique of Angel’s show and visit to the Cave was that she did not want to be my best friend as much as I wanted to be her best friend. This is not really a valid critique. Furthermore, when I ran into Angel in downtown Madison,Wisconsin, the next day, she not only remembered me but complimented my “Stevie-Nicks-vibe.” SWOON! Ok, fine, I’m a fangirl.
angel olsen at the cave
by mary dahlman begley Angel Olsen’s latest album, Burn Your Fire For No Witness, is undeniably a masterpiece. I had heard some of her earlier singles and quickly lumped her into the Waxahatchee, Courtney Barnett, modern-female-indie singer genre which is certainly lovely, but maybe a bit overdone. Angel’s agent contacted me in January, before the release of BYFFNW, and I agreed to book her on the basis of adding variety to the Cave line-up.I simply had no idea what was to come. Like Waxahatchee, Angel added more instruments and more pizazz to her latest album to fill out the sound and bring her excellent songwriting skills to a new plane of excruciating jubilation. Unlike any other indie-female-singer-songwriter out there, Angel’s voice throws the listener back into the backseat of their mothers’ minivans listening to cassettes on the way to second grade. Promised Land Sound was an opener contracted by Angel’s agency to open. I was a bit surprised to see the Nashvillians skateboarding outside the Cave when I pulled up for sound check, but their sound made
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photo by mary begley
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upcoming shows the CAVE
this week: KARAOKE PARTY MAY 9 friday 9p
5.14 The COUNTERFACTUALS live at the cave---------simulcast on KRLX
5.15 OPEN MIC NIGHT
5.16 STUDENT BAND SHOWCASE III
5.17 PERFECT PUSSY+
FRANCE CAMP//
AMERICAN PRIMITIVE
SATURDAY MAY 10:
BATTLE OF THE BANDS FINAL at the Grand
9:00PM: Ashantology 9:30PM:: Different Animals 10:00PM::: Schrödinger’s Finch 10:30PM:::: The Karate Squids 11:00PM::::: Brown Sugar Jamal & the Spice Rack 11:30PM::::::Afrostank
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7TH STREET ENTRY 5.9 Teen with Jessy Lanza
5.10 Chicago Afrobeat Project with Black Market Brass
5.13 Tera Melos with Holographic Sounds, Hardcore Crayons 5.16 Acid Mothers Temple with Perhaps
TWIN CITIES TURF CLUB (21+)
5.12 Matt Pond PA with the Lighthouse & the Whaler 5.13 Babes with Ice Balloons 5.14 Jordan Carr & the Boys with Evasive Maneuver, Bear the Sound
FINE LINE
5.10 The Both with Nick Diamonds 5.15 Wye Oak with Braids 5.21 Hoodie Allen
FIRST AVE MAINROOM
5.18 Mogway with Majeure 5.19 Haim with Tennis 5.20 Elbow with John Grant
TRIPLE ROCK 5.10 Baths with Young Fathers and P. Morris
5.15 STNNNG with Solid Attitude, Les Deux Magots, Animal Lover 5.16 Potty Mouth with Fleabite
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***LISTS***
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***LISTS***
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