Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The first time I heard the record all the way through, I loved it. The second time through, well, as you might have guessed, I loved it even more. It begins with the transcendent “Narrows”, swirling around as it does, placid and tranquil and effortlessly beautiful. The haunting creep of “The Integral Accident” is terribly appealing, with more of Green’s gentle strumming and calm, steady vocals. “I know/you know/our fate is sealed,” Green sings, wondering, “What will happen when we’re gone” as a wash of melancholia grows behind him.
It’s impossible for me to pick a favorite song from Now My Home Is A Beech Tree, though with some pressurizing I’ll admit that I’m somewhat partial to the breathless, heady sound of “Cusseta”. Something about that slow-motion, dream-sequence intro makes me think of Doves, which is always a grand thing. The beat of the drum is hypnotic, and Green’s voice lulls one into all sorts of fantastical imaginings. But then again, there’s all sorts of allure all over “The Buried Ranges”, Seas taking a more uptempo route while bemoaning being a “victim of history”.
It’s a cold, black heart indeed that doesn’t warm to Now My Home Is A Beech Tree, ladies and gentlemen. What Green has created let no killjoy or crankypants tear asunder. In other words, might I suggest you get your paws on a copy of this here record, pronto-like? And there’s never been a better time, as Decoration Day is having a sale. And you can't beat that with a stick.
mp3: Valley Of The Fevers (Alternate) (Seas from Now My Home Is A Beech Tree)
I could probably do an entire post just on what the Flaming Lips have been doing for their last few videos, but today, we'll just focus on their latest. Sure, the tingly bits are blurred, but i think we all get the idea. As if the giant vagina ball in the beginning wasn't going to tip you off in the first place.
mp3: See the Leaves (The Flaming Lips from Embryonic)
Proving that our Spanish brethren are every bit as weird as their US counterparts, i bring to you the latest from El Guincho's Pop Negro. Entitled "Bombay," this one more than gives the Lips a run for their money. More weirdness AND more boobies!
mp3: Bombay (El Guincho from Pop Negro)
While this next one has bathing suit clad girls in swimming pools, i'm afraid you're going to have to dial back your nudie expectations for the latest from (The) Tony Castles. Of course, this arguably is the strongest groover of the bunch, so i suppose you'll survive.
Not to harsh your buzz, but here's another non-nekkid video, yet it still speaks to the Gen Xer in me. It's an homage to some of the greatest video games of the '80s, so you know we've got a winner here. When you start off with a nod to "Elevator Action," well, i'm hooked.
Admittedly, this last one has nothing to do with music videos, nor is it particularly adult-ish beyond the very odd boob infatuation, but, damnation, i lurvs me some Japanese TV, and the Ancient Dogoo Girl might just be my new fave character on the tube, now that i think about it. i can only hope that when i eventually have kids, they'll be treated to such fare as this.
mp3: Turning Japanese (Liz Phair from Juvenilia)
MINI RECAP: Blue Giant = Blithely Great! Overall Score: B++
"Hi everybody," began Kevin Robinson, cheerful smile plastered under his beard, "we're Blue Giant from Portland, Oregon," proceeding thither to launch into the band's excellent set with the driving "Go On". Despite a slight imbalance in the sound (hello, slightly too much guitar), the song was mighty fine, in the vein of Viva Voce but with more emphasis on the song structure and the country meets pop of it all. The road-weary, boisterous stomp of "Wesley" was next, melodic and slightly torn and frayed.
"Target Heart" was a standout, lovely and dreamy with Kevin's voice emoting even more lovelorn plaintiveness than on record, and the lap steel adding immeasurable amounts of glorious wistfulness. For "Lonely Girl", Mrs. Robinson took her turn with lead vocals, singing with aplomb some modern day country gal blues. This is one impressive vocal couple, y'all. Quite possibly my favorite moment song-wise came when the band covered the classic Byrds song "I Wasn't Born To Follow". I thought instantly of Easy Rider, and motorcycle rides through a harsh, dusty desert. It got a little crazy up there with the rocking out, let me just say. O, the madcap instrumentalizationality of it!
And when I thought it couldn't get any better, they broke out with the irrepressible pair of "Run Rabbit Run" and "Blue Sunshine", the former jauntily hopping its way along the twangy path and the latter utterly impossible to ignore, what with all that mandolin madness going on. The set came to a close with the unexpectedly Beatles-esque "Clean The Clock", and I couldn't help but feel a little sad about the end of such a great set. Bobby Bare, Jr., was fantastic of course, but hells bells y'all. Blue Giant was nigh on stunning.
Sure, I was expecting nothing less than near-perfection, given how much I like Viva Voce and how good Viva Voce is live AND how good the Blue Giant record is (which, by the way, ought to be in your collection by now). But the band exceeded those lofty expectations of mine, bringing the mellowness of the West and some seriously sensational songs. It would behoove you, lovely loves of mine, to spend a little time warming your soul in front of the glowing embers of Blue Giant.
mp3: Blue Sunshine (Blue Giant from Blue Giant)
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
If you've been wondering what you can do to make a difference and help out, well, here's an option. The kind souls in Deer Tick are auctioning off The Flagship, their 2009 touring vehicle, to raise money for flood relief. Visit this here link for further information about the auction, which will be ongoing for three weeks. You can also donate to Oxfam at the merch booth at all dates on the upcoming Deer Tick tour. It's a long tour, so plenty of chances to open up the wallets. So go on. Do a little something good for those who need help in ways most of us couldn't even imagine.
mp3: Piece By Piece, Frame By Frame (Deer Tick from The Black Dirt Sessions)
100 Shows of 2010 - #67: Those Darlins/The Strange Boys/Gentleman Jesse & His Men @ Black Cat, 9/15/10
MINI RECAP: Gentleman Jesse & His Men = Yabba! The Strange Boys = Dabba! Those Darlins = Do! Overall Score: A
I missed, sadly, virtually all of the set belonging to Gentleman Jesse & His Men. However, the scant few songs I saw served as a hint of the sheer balls-out, sexy rock that these young men can put forth. I'd liken them to Rick Springfield (think "Jesse's Girl" but actually cool), with a big, catchy sound and plenty of cheekiness. Further investigation is definitely needed, but I was well impressed with what I witnessed.
The Strange Boys followed, and it was during their set that the weirdness in the club began in earnest. There was a little bit of a disconnect between the crowd and the bands, though with The Strange Boys it extended to the staff, too, as they were ignored after requesting more lights so they could see the crowd's purty faces. Lighting aside, my (impatient) wait to see the band was rewarded with a delicious dose of retro-fitted rock and roll purity. The shambolic edge was present in spades, but so too was the polish that sets The Strange Boys apart from plenty of other soundalikes. I'm still counting my lucky stars to have heard my beloved "Night Might" and "Poem Party", along with "Nights In Paris", "Be Brave", and a heaping helping of other goodies. Their remarkable nonchalance about playing wowed me, as I've said before it's like they don't even try, and yet they are so very, very good at what they do. It's effortless, but with a little sneer. They shimmied and shook and rocked and rolled and by the time they were done, I loved them more than ever.
And then, to top it all off, came Those Darlins. These little ladies have beguiled the both of us here at LET, and having never seen them live before I was beyond excited. And these hot mamas most certainly did not disappoint. Oh no. I mean, any band that literally has the lights turned on to get them off the stage is impossible not to love, right? These gals were intent on causing a ruckus, and they did their due diligence. The set was soaked in sex and booze and rabble-rousing, and lordy me it was sensational. Their rocky twang was in fine form, pitting their trio of come-hither vocals with down and dirty rock, filthy hints of the blues, and a bit of Nashville for good measure. "Wild One" was the highlight of a thoroughly bitchin' set for me, being as it is one of my favorite songs these days. And hell, just cuz they're sweet don't mean they're always nice, you know. Even if they did bring Nikki's mom up onstage for a little tambourine playing. These girls are definitely whisky rock-a-rollers, to quoth my dear Skynyrd, and they rock harder than most bands around. Can't say enough good things about 'em.
I'll keep it brief. Go see these bands. End of story. Oh, and you're welcome.
mp3: Who's That Knockin At My Window (Daytrotter) (Those Darlins from Those Darlins)
Monday, September 27, 2010
MINI RECAP: The Drums = Sasstacularly Spunky! Overall Score: B+++
I felt an instant affinity for these hyped-up New Yorkers, even before they played a note. Their look, and really, it is a pretty serious look, reeled me in. Think 1980s Smithsian, but whereas Morrissey and Marr wore their shades of gray on their sleeves, literally, The Drums opt for a bold and bright take on their retro love, which matches the overall vibe of their music. I was immediately aware of the serious stage presence of their frontman, the prancing and preening Jonathan Pierce, who sashayed splendidly around the stage for the duration of their set. Puritanical purists, avert thine eyes, but Pierce seems to me like some kinda Freddie Mercury/Ian Curtis hybrid, blending the peacock strut of Mercury with the empassioned twitching of Curtis. While the music of The Drums doesn't quite align with either band (especially the full-throttle bombastic operatics of Queen), the resemblance was, to me, uncanny. Throw in an ocassional vocal reference to Ian McCulloch, and you're getting warmer. And I found it all rather delightful, and impressive, when Pierce managed to wriggle out of his red satin bomber jacket without putting down the mic or even batting an eyelash.
Any band that cites Orange Juice as an influence wins favor from me, and the sound of the great Scots certainly permeates here (I'd also throw in a nod or two to that other band of amazing Scots, Josef K). The melodies and the arch poppiness of the rocking was drenched in Scottish (and English, too) shades, though Pierce's voice took things way over the top. In a good way, of course. The songs were hypnotic, and pretty much irresistible. Between Pierce's vocal antics and the lipstick gloss of the guitar to that machine gun drummery, it was a glorious little set. I'm not sure where this band has been all my life, but I'm glad they're here now.
I'd have to say my only real complaint about the set was that, well, it ended, and that at times the vocals seemed a wee bit muddy. But other than that, it just doesn't get much more entertaining, my little lovelies. Lucky for you, the band is still in the midst of a major US tour, and will be popping over to Europe in a few weeks to spread their love amongst the peoples of the EU. I seriously, forcefully, and earnestly encourage you to spend a night with The Drums. You won't be disappointed.
mp3: We Used To Wait (Arcade Fire Cover) (The Drums from BBC3 Session)
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Those Blood Feathers boys sure do get around, don't they? I guess it's what happens when you're out on tour. In any event, looks like they've been getting up to no good. I for one am looking forward to their Daytrotter session, not to mention the debauchery next time they swing back around DC.
mp3: Sugar In Bed (Blood Feathers from Goodness Gracious)
And now, without further ado, I hand it over to Walker.
The moon cast a glow that was pure hell....Man nor beast could come to terms with such a horrendous episode of visual interlude. Denny ripped not only his own arms off, but also the arms of the beautiful Miss Chaucey. They sat motionless in the horrible moonlight while the wild-eyed prairie hyenas drank from their shoulder holes....Meanwhile, on the other side of earth, Moyikami was getting married for the first time. It was an arranged marriage, and Moyikami felt quite lucky, seeing as how his wife to be was not only beautiful - but also a calm, thoughtful lady as well....Frank Stallone was the Monk that was to do the hitching....and Hitching He Did!.....Boy Howdy!
As an aside, if you're not already aware, the boys of Dead Confederate are currently touring their (amazing) new record, Sugar. They're here in DC Wednesday, so see y'all over at the Hotel for what promises to be a killer evening.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
All set? Good. Now we can proceed. Despite my lengthy run of fangirlness, I'd only managed to see The Charlatans (or as they're sometimes called, The Charlies) twice, and neither time was here in DC. Go figure. My first Charlies show was in Atlanta, when I was 18. I borrowed a car and a friend and I drove from Tuscaloosa to Atlanta to see them (with The Dandy Warhols opening) at one hell of an amazing show. A couple of years later I had the chance to see the band in Newcastle (the one across the pond) with some friends, which was equally as amazing. But that was 2000, and it's now 2010. So you can imagine, friends, how very eager my eardrums were to once more hear the wonder that is The Charlatans. And the point of this rambling intro is that FINALLY they came back around for a show. And it was, you guessed it, amazing.
MINI RECAP: The Charlatans = Ageless Wonders! Overall Score: A
Ok, so perhaps I was gonna give my beloved Charlatans a top score regardless, but they really, really earned it, babies. They began with an incredible rendition of "Then", an oldie but most definitely a goodie. The jangle interspersed with a wee bit of darkness got the old blood pumping. And following it up with one of their biggest songs ever, "Weirdo", set the tone for an overall spectacular little set. I do have to make a confession, I haven't yet checked out the band's newest couple of records. I've been so enamored with their older stuff I just hadn't ventured over to their new stuff (I was fearing the Oasis problem, being older songs far trump newer songs). But based on what the boys stormed through at the show, I was just a little silly to have ignored their latest works. All the sound of The Charlatans is there, organ-infused with killer guitar and, of course, those Burgess-ian vocals. Oh, that voice.
The man behind the voice, Tim Burgess, was looking perhaps more like Mick Jagger than he ever has, lean and lanky and with a dark fringe that hid his intense eyes unless he brushed away the bangs. He shimmied and shuffled his way across the stage in his black wife-beater, eliciting coos from the ladies and shouts of encouragement from the lads. He looked, quite frankly, ageless. His interplay with the crowd and those impish grins did nothing to dispel the notion that he could be as young as you like. The band brought out some seriously big guns midway through the set, including a jaw-dropping version of "One To Another" (which, incidentally, includes another of my most favorite lyrics ever: "Be my Spiderwoman/I'll be your Spiderman"), "The Only One I Know", and "My Beautiful Friend", introduced charmingly by Tim as being "for our beautiful friends in DC."
More new songs filled the bulk of the set, it seemed, but we weren't deprived of the glory of older Charlatans for very long. Really old, really cheekily adorable "White Shirt" made an appearance, sounding as fresh as a daisy. "North Country Boy" really got the crowd's motor running, as it should, being such an anthem as it is. One of my favorite Charlies songs, the lazy daze of "Can't Get Out Of Bed", popped up in the encore, and the whole thing wound to a frenzy of a close with the classic "Sproston Green".
In closing, you might could say the third time was the charm. It was the smallest venue I'd ever seen The Charlatans in, and perhaps because it was ten years in the making, I found it the most enjoyable. The band looked beamingly happy to be playing for us, and we the crowd were as beamingly happy to have them play. It was a lovefest. I might be doing some major gushing here, but y'all, this is one of a handful of bands that has meant more to me than I can ever hope to express. If you don't ever listen to another word I say, well, I hope you'll make friends with The Charlatans. They're truly in a class by themselves.
mp3: Then (The Charlatans from Some Friendly)
mp3: Can't Get Out Of Bed (The Charlatans from Up To Our Hips)
(We also wish drummer Jon Brookes a speedy recovery from what ails him! Get well soon, JB)
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Seriously, y'all, have you added a little Blood Feathers to your life yet???? Because, in addition to being seriously killer on record, and quite possibly even better in the flesh, they're super, super nice dudes. And who doesn't love nice dudes? Well, actually, some of us tend to run away from nice boys and go for the baddest of the bad boys, but that's neither here nor there. The point here is that Blood Feathers is a fantastic band. And you should obviously love them. That is all.
mp3: The Same Mad Part (Blood Feathers from Goodness Gracious)
MINI RECAP: Dreamend = Sassily Schizo! Overall Score: B+
My enjoyment began pretty much right after the dynamic duo (much like myself and Chris, obviously) stepped onto the stage. I immediately fell in smit with the live incarnation of Dreamend, all gorgeously ethereal ramblings with guitar and drums. I got a kind of Mogwai vibe, when the noisy Scots tread more delicately and not so destructively (think "New Paths to Helicon 1" etc.). And just as with Mogwai, the boys of Dreamend can get pretty dang aggro in a snap. But how cute was that little cartoon of those be-toga'd Romans (or Greeks, it's all in the interpretation)? Ryan was almost hiding behind his oversized hoodie and some equipment, letting the fuzz (and sometimes his lovely voice) let his presence be known. Pavement also sprang to my mind on certain songs, and when you remind a gal of Pavement and Mogwai in one set, well, you're doing mighty fine. Even more amazing were the shades of my beloved, dearly departed Brits Six By Seven (if you don't know of them, well, check out the brilliant song "European Me", because I heard a lot of it sprinkled hither and thither in this set). It only took about two songs to make me verily distressed to have missed the set back in April. But better late than never, so the saying goes.
A lot of two-person bands tend to throw their hats into the garage ring, but Dreamend waves the flag for fuzzodistortonoisiness, and I find that incredibly fantastic. The band also racked up major points for penning one of my favorite lyrics of the year, with the assertion, "I know just who you think you are". Classic. Dreamend was solid from start to finish, creating a glorious, enchanting dreamscape only to have it grounded by Ryan's perfectly imperfect voice and a swell of gigantic waves of sound. Totally, utterly bitchin.
I wasn't quite sure what to expect from the set, but lo and behold, Dreamend sunk my battleship. If you get the chance, go check 'em out for damn sure. Don't sleep on this band, or you might just be sorry.
mp3: Magnesium Light (Dreamend from So I Ate Myself, Bite By Bite)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
It just so happens to be the birthday of Mister Cohen. So sit yourself in a dimly-lit corner, pop open a bottle of your finest red, and take comfort in his woebegone splendor.
mp3: Famous Blue Raincoat (Leonard Cohen from Songs Of Love And Hate)
MINI RECAP: Cults = Cultishly Captivating! Best Coast = Bestest Coastest! Overall Score: B+
I've decided that Cults, awesome band #1 of the evening, has more hair on their collective head than any band I've ever seen, outside of the Richmond metal scene, that is. I dug them lots and lots, finding their boy-girl vocals delightful, with the grounded boy balancing the spritely, somewhat ethereal lady. Very jaunty, very shimmering, with a hearty dose of lollipops and candy drops. Yes, I said it. "The Curse" was a favorite of mine, a spooky little song sung by a spooky little girl. 'Twas very nice indeed, as was their entire set. I found their sound to be very appealing, and when I heard a xylophone, well, be it programmed into the keys or no, it earned my eternal love and devotion for Cults. In the end, they left me wanting more, and I guess that's precisely what you're supposed to do, eh? Leave us starry-eyed and clamoring for more?
So then, after some pungent downtime, it was Best Coast's time to shine. Which I'm sure they did, we just couldn't see it thanks to the pretty bad lighting going on at the Hotel. But thankfully, Best Coast could be heard. And that was very, very good because I loved them. Loved, loved, loved. Basically, I'm already predisposed to like bands that do some serious California dreaming, and if you throw in that retro surf thing I'm yours for life. Bethany and Bobb totally rocked my world, with their combustion of lo-fi fuzziness swapping spit with upbeat jauntitude. Those are definitely some great tastes that taste great together! Bethany has quite a strong, sassy voice on her, though she keeps it sweet and girlie, too. The venue's sonic shortcomings somehow worked for the band, in my opinion, adding to their fuzztastic noisiness. Kinda like, at times, throwing girl group songs into a blender with My Bloody Valentine and a Beach Boy or two. Which, as I'm sure you'll agree, sounds pretty darned fantastic. I like to think of bands like Best Coast (and Cults) as a sort of popgaze, where you can close your eyes and see home movies of summertime picnics and afternoons in aging houses, soundtracked by this most splendid post-shoegaze poptasticness. Well, I thought it was poppy. My partner might disagree, but maybe he just couldn't hear it (wink wink nudge nudge).
In short, venue issues aside, this was another one of those well-planned bills. Cults and Best Coast were purrfect together. It was all sorts of ramalamadingdong, y'all. I look forward to seeing both of these bands again soon. Just perhaps not in summertime.
mp3: Boyfriend (Best Coast from Crazy For You)
And so it is that today, with all those old tender feelings in mind, I'd like to extend a warm birthday snog to Mister Liam Gallagher. Word on the street is that he's working on getting a new band together, in the wake of the latest (and perhaps final?) demise of Oasis. If so, well, best of luck. But for memories' sake, here's a little Oasis for all of my fellow Liam-ites.
mp3: Wonderwall (Oasis from (What's The Story) Morning Glory?)
Monday, September 20, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
MINI RECAP: Voxhaul Broadcast = Verily Bitchin! Overall Score: B+
Voxhaul Broadcast is another one of those bands that, as much as I hate to say it, really DOES sound like California, what with their summery beats and totally tubular guitar playing. They struck me initially as sounding like a bouncier Broken West, another California band I get goosebumps for. The instrumentation has a lot in common with TBW, though vocally Voxhaul Broadcast's David Dennis gets a bit more raw than his TBW counterpart.
The lovely boys of Voxhaul Broadcast impressed me the whole evening long, with their noisy, poppy-meets-psychy-meets-rocky racket. They kept things fresh and interesting for their whole set, at times veering off into 70s rock homages, or plowing through solid harmonies and taut instrumentation. I also certainly enjoyed their penchant for good old fashioned wailing on the guitar, too. That sure does get a gal's heart beating a little faster. I wasn't sure what to expect from their set, but this band impressed the hell outta me from start to finish.
Suffice it to say, my little darlings, I really, really, really do wish they all could be California boys. Voxhaul Broadcast has a few more dates left on their current tour, and if you're in their path make sure you go check 'em out (I'm talkin' to y'all: Lincoln, NE 9/19, Denver, CO 9/20, Boise, ID 9/23, Fresno, CA 9/25, Venice, CA 9/26). As for me, well, I'm just gonna sit here and hope they get back East on the soonish tip.
MINI RECAP: Hot Hot Heat = Hotly Hot! 22-20s = Humidly Hot! Overall Score: B+
The absolutely adorable 22-20s were up first. Cute as can be and accented to boot (yes, yes, my Anglophilia is a well-established point), I immediately loved the band. They got me so very excited within a minute of their first song that I went and dropped my pen. A little old school in their sound, the 22-20s layed it on thick with the rough, filthy riffs and the blues overtones. I dug virtually everything about them, from their smoky, backroom vocals to the come-home-with-me slyness in the guitar. There was definite naughtiness in that scuzzy noise they were making. While not quite as blatant as the "Spit or Swallow" tee I caught a glimpse of in the crowd, the 22-20s are nearly as obviously rock. The band is currently promoting new record shake/shiver/moan, which I suspect I will soon get my hands on, and which perhaps might elicit all three of those titular sensations. Thumbs up for damn sure.
After a brief intermission, it was time for some Hot Hot Heat. It's been quite a few years since I last saw these neighbors from the north on a stage, and I was oh so happy to see them once again. "Hello, we are Hot Hot Heat," they began, before immediately launching into a set full of awesomeness. There are few bands I've seen with the energy level of HHH. Steve Bays, with that wonderfully big hair and his equally big, slightly nasal voice, proves quite the pied piper given an audience. I was pretty pleased with Hot Hot Heat's set, the newer stuff sounded just as vibrant and alive as did older material, just perhaps a bit more grown up. And it was one heck of a treat to hear "No, Not Now" live again, that's for sure. "I can already tell," Bays cooed, "this is a good fucking crowd!", a sentiment that caused a minor eruption amongst the happy persons down the front. The kids were going nuts for Hot Hot Heat and their feisty, kicky songs, and I have to say that I was, too. "Get In or Get Out" was another treat, reminding me of just how much I used to listen to the excellent record Make Up The Breakdown. When it comes to Hot Hot Heat, I'll quote those excellent Animals, and say that the boys can't help it, they were born to please.
What a night, what a night. Friends, make sure to add these two bands to your list of must-see bands. They took a regular ole Friday night and went and rock and rolled all over it. Hallelujah.
mp3: Bandages (Hot Hot Heat from Make Up The Breakdown)
Friday, September 17, 2010
I love me some Blood Feathers. I'm pretty sure they're my favorite group of Philadelphians, and they make some seriously funky/twangy/rockin/rollin/get down music. Luckily for you, they're fond of touring, so get ready for a few dates with The Walkmen next month. Fun will be had.
mp3: Don't Know You At All (Blood Feathers from Goodness Gracious)
MINI RECAP: Autolux = Deliciously Dark! Overall Score: B+
Even before they played a note, I was impressed. Walking out to Brian Eno's "Here Come The Warm Jets" will win me over every single time. As for the band themselves, well, the three of them impressed the hell out of me, too, moreso than ever. Right from the start, Autolux showed off their big, dark, layered sound, so finely textured and so atmospheric and so full of reverb (to Chris's slight chagrin but my delight). This is a band that takes advantage of every note, cramming as much noise into each song as humanly possible. The power and aggression in the songs was accented by a slight hint of something wicked, something sinister, giving it a delicious feeling of almost devilish decadence.
The assualt on the eardrums was simply glorious. Chilling, brutal, but somehow lovely at the same time, especially when Miss Azar lent her voice as well as her sticks to the cause. Her sultry softness tempered the darkness, with beautiful effect. The songs tended to be severe and scathing, but not in a way that was at all off-putting. At times, it felt that the line between vitriolic and seductive had been muddied, with splendid results. Somehow, Autolux songs have always seemed almost catchy to me, and this night was no exception. Catchy though the songs were, all that wonderful reverb and distortion and fuzz is what tends to float my boat, and Autolux delivered and then some.
Another night, another great set by Autolux. I second my partner's notion that you should go see Autolux whenever the opportunity presents itself. You'll be so glad you did.
mp3: Supertoys (Autolux from Transit Transit)