The Untitled Interview #5: Starring Christian Bland (the Black Angels)

Ok, it's probably safe to unofficially declare July to be Black Angels month around these parts, because here comes more BA goodness. At the risk of sounding (too) redundant, you already know I am a wee bit enamored of the five-piece from Austin with the swirling psychedelic chip on their shoulder. Really, if you're not already as smitten as I am, you should seriously reconsider. And now, without further ado, here comes the first half of the Untitled Interview, part one featuring lead guitarist/vocalist (and also graphic designer extraordinaire) Christian Bland.

Les Enfants Terribles: How the hell are you?
Christian Bland: We're doing great. We've been out on tour for almost 5 weeks now, so we'll be returning home to Austin in about 10 days.

LET: What was the last song you listened to?
CB: "Red Rooster: - the Warlocks (during sound check)

LET: For your money, who is/was the best Austin band ever?
CB: 13th Floor Elevators = Best Stevie Ray Vaughn= Worst.

LET: Playing music is _________.
CB: Our portal into the fifth dimension.

LET: What album most made you realize that you wanted to make music?
CB: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

LET: Beatles or Stones?
CB: the Beatles.

LET: What're your top 5 albums?
CB:
1. The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
2. Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators
3. Psychocandy
4. The Velvet Underground & Nico
5. Bo Diddley

LET: Favorite music-related movie?
CB: Pink Floyd - Live at Pompeii

LET: What city or venue would you like to play, but haven't yet been to?
CB: I'd like to play in Italy.

LET: Half-full or half-empty?
CB: Half & half.

LET: Apart from your band, which of your peers do you think is making the best music these days?
CB: Psychic Ills & Lower Heaven.

LET: What's the first thing you think when you wake up in the morning?
CB: What am I gonna do today?

LET: The greatest record store in the world is:
CB: Amoeba in LA.

LET: What's the longest flight you've ever been on?
CB: Houston, TX to Paris, France.

LET: Shaken or stirred?
CB: Barbequed.

LET: What was your backup band name, in case the Black Angels was taken?
CB: The Black & Green Scarecrowes.

LET: If you weren't in a band, you'd be:
CB: A preacher.

LET: Best song ever written?
CB: "The Ballad of Paladin" - Johnny Western.

Live Review: The RZA as Bobby Digital @ 9:30 Club, July 8

One of the many things I love about the 9:30 Club is the fact that they post actual show times and that artists tend to stick to them to the minute. The only time in the years I've been going and dozens upon dozens of shows I've seen where this has been a problem was a few years back when I saw the Wu-Tang Clan on their ODB Tribute Tour. So you'd think I'd have known better last night when I caught the RZA that there was no way he was going on at the posted time of 9:30 pm. Silly me.

I did take that fact into consideration and didn't show up until about 9:45. When I walked in the door, a pretty good DJ was spinning wax. Anybody who throws old school Slick Rick on the turn table is alright by me, so it was a decent distraction. Not realizing that the RZA hadn't even shown up yet (apparently, he showed up just before he went on stage; more on that in a minute), I was a bit surprised when Stone Mecca went on about 10 pm. Their solo set was pretty pedestrian. They sounded at times like a watered down early Prince and at other times like a much weaker Parliament. The singers' voices largely were shot, which probably is understandable as last night was the final night of the current tour. After that, the crowd was "treated" to two rappers who sounded like they had been found behind the club when it was determined RZA still was MIA.

After another short set by the aforementioned DJ, the RZA finally showed up, just after 11 pm and took the stage to a less than half full room. Interestingly, he was backed for his performance by the DJ and Stone Mecca, both of whom stepped up their game considerably. Stone Mecca may not be much to see on their own, but they did a more than admirable job behind the RZA.

While the show focused predominantly on new material from Digi Snacks (such as the phenomenal "Booby Trap"), the crowd was rewarded towards the end with a classic Wu track or two (a short version of "Wu Tang Clan Ain't Nuthing ta Fuck Wit"). For me, though, the highlight was during "Drama", when he brought out Thea van Seijen, a Dutch singer with one of the most unique voices I've heard in a while. Assuming she gets the usual Wu love and has her own CD in a matter of minutes, I'll certainly be picking up that one.

By the time the show came to a close just after midnight, the stage looked a lot like a Funkadelic affair, with a dozen or more musicians, rappers, singers and assorted hangers on milling about, creating a familial feel. At this point in the evening, though, I'd guess the club was maybe a third full. Maybe if the RZA had gone a tad earlier...

Meet Sunking!

So a couple weekends ago I was spending a little quality time at Gallery 5 here in Richmond, checking out a band that was recommended to me, the Young Sinclairs (more on them one of these days, as they’re also worth your while and I highly endorse them). One of the three bands playing with those Young Sinclairs was, well, themself. Oh really, you might ask? You see, several band members also play in a little band called Sunking!, and if I may be so bold as to say it, I hereby declare them to be rather good. They certainly caught my attention, and I like to think I'm rather picky.

Naturally, I was immediately smitten with the whole Sunking! name, being a history afficianado and potential closet Francophile. But this Sunking! is less about excessive spending, gilt furniture, and powdered wigs and more about embracing one's inner flower child. Having been overwhelmingly impressed by their live performance (so much so that I think I might have to bug them until they come back to Richmond), I procured a copy of their audio offering, Dreamy of the Sunchildren. It’s a string of eight brief yet immediately likeable and well-crafted pop songs dripping with the kaleidoscopic golden honey glow of the late 60s. It goes by in a flash, but it’s the dreamiest eighteen minutes you could probably ask for. Lest I have painted them as mere throwbacks, rest assured they are aren’t confined by mere emulation. Their whimsical lyrics and charming instrumental approach make Sunking! perfect listening for sun-dappled summer afternoons. If you're old enough to remember those old Breck shampoo commercials, that's the kinda feeling I'm talking about. Not for your hair, but your soul.

Don't think I'm trying to shoehorn them, mind. Sunking! are simply splendid, no matter the season.

Live Review: The Black Angels @ Rock’n’Roll Hotel, July 2

As it usually does, the drive up to DC from Richmond took a little longer than expected, so as I was walking into the Rock’n’Roll Hotel, the Warlocks’ equipment was being loaded off the stage. I was a little sad not to have seen them, but at the same time I was a woman on a mission. It would appear the Black Angels have grown in popularity since last I saw them, which is great for them but bad for the late-arriving, vertically-challenged amongst us.

When the five space cadets from Austin ambled onto the stage, it seemed that as soon as they touched their instruments a wall of sound began to fill the room, and it would only get louder. To give you an idea, I didn’t wear earplugs, and my ears were still ringing at lunchtime the day after the show. Up first on the set list was the deviantly good “Manipulation,” so droning and so loud I felt like the music was this wave that seeped into every pore. Despite slight volume issues with his mic initially, singer Alex Maas absolutely shredded his vocals, adding extra passion into his vocal parts to play against guitarist Christian Bland’s slightly more controlled vocals. It didn’t take me long to rank this show as a tie for my second-best of the year, and when the lyric “You got the FBI/they ain’t on your side” came up, from second song “You On the Run,” I had my reaffirmation that what I was witnessing was very, very special. What better place to hear that line than in DC?

“The Sniper at the Gates of Heaven” was next, and though it’s always been one of my favorite Black Angels songs, tonight it was even better than the hundreds of times I’ve listened to it. The guitar was extra wicked and almost a little raunchy, and Maas’ flat delivery seemed a tad venomous. It was a spooky little piece of psych rock, played against a backdrop of some sort of projections (again, I said my time there was mostly aural, I couldn’t see much of anything) that swirled and danced across the back of the stage and over the band members. I leaned against the wall during the emphatically excellent “Mission District” and noticed it throbbing from the beautiful noise.

O, sweet fuzzy guitar, how I love you; “Black Grease” was extra fuzzy on this night, and was definitely an audience favorite. I looked at the band, and what I saw was one of the best (and, frankly, best-looking) bands I’ve seen in quite some time. The first time I saw them was no fluke, they really are goddamned amazing. “Doves” was the best I’ll probably ever hear it played, a shimmering fiery mess of time and space and sound. Before launching into the song, Maas thanked the Warlocks, and said something about them being an inspiration (at this point in the night when people weren’t singing they tended to sound like Mickey Mouse, and I couldn’t make out words very well. Always wear earplugs, kids).

“Science Killer” was unbelievably good, the bass louder and the drums pounded into the furthest reaches of oblivion. It, and the rest of the show, was an intense experience. A triumphant “Young Men Dead” was next in line, even more mesmerizing in its’ drone than on the album Passover. As was the rest of the packed room, I was completely entranced. They’re like pied pipers, leading us into the great sonic promised land. “Surf City (revisited)” followed, according to the set list, though I could have sworn I heard "Empire" instead, and they closed out the set with the extended version of the already-lengthy “Never/Ever,” delicious in its far out schizophrenia.

After a brief moment offstage doing the expected pre-encore buildup, the Black Angels came back and played a rousing rendition of “The Return,” and while Bland was “oooh ooh-ing” I realized once more how good this band has become. The final song of the evening was another from new album Directions to See a Ghost, “You in Color.” The frantic jamming was raw to the point of pain, but in the best way. And then, they were gone, leaving hundreds of happy hipsters to flood the streets of DC, ears buzzing and smiles on their faces.

In closing, I’d like to urge you to see this band whenever possible. I'm thinking of following them around the country on their tour, instead of being a Dead Head I'll be an Angel Head. They are the real deal, and I love them to pieces.

Album Review: Spiritualized – Songs in A&E

The penultimate space cowboy, Jason Pierce (AKA J. Spaceman, AKA the one constant member of and driving force behind Spiritualized) has been making achingly glorious noise for some twenty-odd years now. Songs in A&E is Pierce’s first outpouring of new music since being hospitalized in 2005 with a life-threatening illness. Most of the album was written before his hospitalization, but you’d never know it. There is a whisper of death through the whole album, but also joy. It’s pretty much par for the course for a Spiritualized album in that regard, but the reality of Pierce’s near-death experience lends new weight to the album itself.

Interspersed by six harmonies (think of them as interludes), the twelve new Spiritualized songs are beautiful, heartbreaking, and well worth the wait. Pierce cooked up new depths to his trademark lovelorn despair, as well as some exceedingly lovely arrangements. That’s the thing about Jason Pierce, he’s not just the voice of Spiritualized, he’s also the (main) composer (not to mention the producer). He is the man behind the curtain, and you should definitely pay attention to this wizard.

Of particular note on Spiritualized latest space rock opus is a little trio of songs I refer to as the “Fire Trilogy,” otherwise known as “I Gotta Fire,” “Soul on Fire,” and “Sitting on Fire.” The first, “I Gotta Fire,” is frantic, loud, and a bit harried. Which, if you think about it, makes perfect sense. My favorite of the trilogy, “Soul on Fire,” is a lush soundscape full of lovely lyrics like “baby, you set my soul on fire/I got two little arms to hold on tight/and I wanna take it higher,” and “I got a hurricane inside my veins/and I wanna stay forever.” It is quite possibly one of my all-time favorite Spiritualized songs. “Sitting on Fire” is another new favorite, crackling with emotion and the occasional break in Pierce’s voice, potentially a side-effect of the aforementioned illness. The breaks actually work in J. Spaceman’s favor, lending further fragility to the bittersweet song.

Snapping you out of the depths of “Soul on Fire” comes the firecracker known as “Yeah Yeah,” featuring the vocal talents of the Dirtbombs and hearkening back to the early days of Spiritualized (and maybe even a ghost of the Spaceman 3). “Don’t Hold Me Close” is an ethereal duet with Harmony Korine’s wife Rachel, and the pair of voices float together beautifully.

All in all, Songs in A&E is a yet another great Spiritualized album. Kudos to Pierce for keeping up the good fight and giving us the gift of another collection of songs. I don’t think it’s too early to predict this one’s gonna end up on quite a few year-end “Best Of” lists. I can pretty much guarantee it’ll be on mine.

Localized: The Bourbon Dynasty

Before I begin, I'd like to thank the Bourbon Dynasty for being the first band to actually reach out to LET for us to review their music. I've anxiously been awaiting the day when bands would start coming to us to help spread the word on what they're doing. Sure, we love to find stuff on our own and tell the world about it, but I consider it "reaching the big time" when the tunes start coming to us. For this, again, thanks, Bourbon Dynasty.

But who is this Bourbon Dynasty of which I speak? Well, they're a DC-area band that specializes in a mix of rock, blues, hillbilly and alt-country that is bound to get your toes a-tapping. In their own words, "We take it down to the basement laboratory and mix it all up, and it comes out swinging."

While their recorded stuff tends to veer a bit more towards the alt-country side of things, their live performances conjure images of everyone from Lynyrd Skynyrd to the Black Keys, infusing a raunchier, more garage band swagger to the music. This music is perfect for a shot and a beer before heading out on the floor to do a little two-step/mosh combination. Think line dancing in shit kicker boots and you've got a pretty good idea of who you're dealing with in the Bourbon Dynasty.

You can check out a whole lot more at their website.

July 2: Black Angels Day

In honor of the recent release of their killer sophomore album and their show tonight at the Rock'n'Roll Hotel, we at Les Enfants Terribles hereby declare today, July 2nd, to be Black Angels Day. It might not yet be a nationally-recognized holiday, but we feel this band is much deserving of their own day. So mark it on your calendars, put on one (or both) of their albums, and raise a glass to Stephanie, Christian, Kyle, Alex, and Nate, otherwise known as one of the finest darned rock bands out there today, won't you?

And if you're in the DC Metro area (or just driving up from Richmond, like our own Megan is), make sure to stop by the Hotel to catch the Black Angels and similarly-minded psych-rockers the Warlocks for a double bill of mind-blowing.

Album Review: Doveman - Footloose Soundtrack

Well, when I heard about this project, my interest was immediately piqued. Somebody covered and reinterpretted the entire Footloose soundtrack? Good Lord and Butter, that's an impressive feat right there. The back story is a bit of a heart wrencher, what with the band having been approached by a childhood friend who asked them to cover it in memory of a deceased half-sister, but that's only slightly less shocking than the fact that lead singer/keyboardist Thomas Bartlett had never heard the soundtrack before it was presented to him by said buddy.

If one is to judge a cover strictly by its reinterpretation and how it differs from the original (see damn near the entirety of Joe Cocker's catalogue), then Doveman's Footloose soundtrack is a stunning success. He's taken 80s music, predominantly and overwhelmingly pop and pop rock, and turned it into a piano/keyboard mediation that sounds more dirge-like than anything Kenny Loggins every had in mind. Doveman's music palette here is stark, really consisting of just Bartlett's voice and keys for the main part, with occasional, sparse drums and other instrumentation elsewhere. The end package is much more desolate and chilling, yet engaging nonetheless. If Ren and the other kids were dealing with heroin addiction and not a no-dance policy, this would be the soundtrack for them.

My one huge "problem" with this project is the major pain in the ass downloading it presented. I literally had to reload each song at least three times, as they froze in the process each time prior. That being said, if moody keyboard retellings of 80s soundtrack music is your thing, this most certainly will make your day, if not year.

Get the entire thing yourself here.

So Long, Farewell: Sound Team

Sometimes I feel like I'm always the last to know when bands I like dissolve their holy unions. The latest in this litany of band disbandings is Austin's most excellent, and sadly under-appreciated space cadets Sound Team. Evidently, while I was getting acclimated to living here in Richmond, the members of Sound Team were calling it a day. Here's the story, from the mouth (or blog) of one of the founding members, Bill Baird:

"Hello friends, By now you might have heard that Sound Team is disbanding, so to speak. The reasons are numerous and boring, so I will spare details. They are the typical band problems: stress of the road, diverging tastes, personal tensions, and monetary difficulties. Nothing too dramatic. Just time to move on, that's all.

As to the future

Jordan will of course continue drumming. The man is a machine. I have no idea who he will play for, but that band will be lucky indeed. Gabe has written some great songs on piano and I hope to help him hone / record some of these. Will has been playing and recording as Sleep Good, and will continue doing so. He has started a band with Michael Bain. Preliminary results indicate great things to come. Matt has written a fantastic set of songs, his best yet, and will likely record and release them. Bill (me) will continue recording and releasing music under the {{{ SUNSET }}} moniker ( I have actually changed the name to Silent Sunset). I'm hoping to release an album that far surpasses anything I've previously released. Brighter colors, sharper contrasts, better lyrics. "Raising the bar," it's been called. That is my hope. Sam, part of the original "rock" lineup of ST, left the band in December to pursue his art and painting. His work is prodigious and impressive, and can be found here. Michael, who also left the band last December, has returned to school. Big Orange will change, no doubt, but the dream will remain alive as long as there's breath in my body. I will try to operate the studio more as a commercial venture, engineering bands and producing when asked. If anybody wants help with their music, my rates are quite competitive. Sound Team's Catalog will be available on our website, completely free, and in high quality digital format. Unreleased material will also be available, including live recordings, radio session, b-sides, and outtakes. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Having founded the band with Matt, I feel emotional about all this. I invested years into the group, dreamt crazy dreams, laughed, toured, made great friends. I regret nothing. The band, in my mind, achieved great success and made fantastic music. I set out with this band to restore a sense of joy and exuberance to musical performance. At our best, we achieved that goal."

The silver lining, if there is one in this very sad breakup, is the availability of the band's music. Though the shit went down in September, the music is still there. If you've never gotten into the band, now's your time to give them a listen and appreciate just how good they were. I for one will be thankful for having been able to see them a couple times, and interview them ages ago. So go check them out, and raise a glass to the memory of Sound Team, gone to the great band afterlife much too prematurely.

Introducing: Band Bloggers

It's not just us music nerds who sit down and spend some quality time with our laptops, you know. When they're not being prolific in the studio or spreading their gospel out on the road, some bands take to their computers. They write about the darndest things, anything from bands they love to recapping their latest gig to their bowel movements.

And so, we decided to show some support for our fellow bloggers and post links to their blogs. The list is on the small side at the moment, but it'll be updated whenever we find more band scribes. Please feel free to let us know of any wacky, interesting, kooky band blog we might have missed, and we'll add it right away. On our list you'll find relatively new blogs (Die!Die!Die!, for instance), and longer-running blogs (such as the infamous Deerhunter blog).

Eyes might be the window to the soul, but blogs can provide insights, too.

[photo by Megan Petty]

Meet the Stevenson Ranch Davidians

Hello, my name is Megan, and I’m a little bit in love with the Stevenson Ranch Davidians.

Their name is a play on those wacky Branch Davidians (remember David Koresh?), but there’s no fiery ending in sight for these Davidians. This is my kind of cult.

Perhaps it’s a cliché, but there’s just something about those bands from California. They sound, and yes I realize this is a point much-belabored, sunny. But what the Stevenson Ranch Davidians do that makes them so appealing is adding that sun-drenched sound not to overly poppy tunes, but to good ole psych-rock. And it’s a rather winning combination. Their influences are all over the place, from Dylan to the Warlocks and everything in between, and you can hear little bits and bobs of all of it. On the delightful “Let It All Go,” for example, there’s the sunshine and the 60s but also heavy doses of the bands of that good Mr. Jason Pierce, in both Spacemen 3 and Spiritualized incarnations. But like any good band they’ve hit on something special. Their songs could be played in the middle of the desert, on Carnaby Street with the Mods, or in your favorite bar tomorrow night. It’s the best of both worlds, the enveloping warmth of California balanced with something weighty, substantial.

The bottom line here, my friends, is that you really ought to do yourself a favor and listen to the Stevenson Ranch Davidians. Immediately.

Album Review: Girl Talk - Feed the Animals

And here I was worried that the art of sampling was dead. Girl Talk, aka DJ Gregg Gillis, is out with his latest CD, the thoroughly enjoyable Feed the Animals. What's more, you can pay what you please to get your grubby, little hands on your very own copy*. For those of you unfamiliar with his work, Gillis specializes in throwing damn near a gagillion different samples into each track, essentially creating a new song in the process. And he's got a little something for everyone here, from Boogie Down Productions and Public Enemy to Sinead O'Connor and Kenny Loggins. I can't confirm it, but I'm pretty sure I heard a kitchen sink in there at one point. For me, this is what makes Girl Talk such a fun band--trying to catch all the different samples on your own. Once you realize that's nearly impossible, you can do like I did and cheat here.

To snag your copy, hit up this site.

For different price levels, you get special "bonuses." Five bones will land you the entire CD in one continuous mp3, ten will get you a hard copy as well as digital. For the record (no pun intended), I dropped half a saw buck myself. Do the right thing and show Gillis a little love yourself.

* Editorial Note: Can people please stop referring to this as the "Radiohead model?" Numerous other artists were using this same tactic of "pay what you please" long before those English chaps. Hell, Juliana Hatfield was offering non-album tracks on her site years before those guys. Sorry, I'm not sure why this bothers me like it does, I just hate to see those cats get more credit than they deserve.

Live Review: The National @ the National, June 22

Evidently, the novelty of seeing the National play at the National was not lost on my fellow Richmonders. Sure, I haven’t actually seen all that many shows here since relocating last fall, but the National is a big place, and the it was heaving with people. I ventured up to the nosebleed section to avoid the creeping feelings of claustrophobia, and to enjoy a birds-eye view of a band I hadn’t quite realized I had missed so much. The cynical part of me wondered just how many of the assembled masses were here simply to see the double National, while the slightly less cynical part of me felt a little proud that my beloved quintet was now drawing such large crowds.

When last I saw them, the National was touring their absurdly good album Alligator, and the Black Cat was moderately full. The mood was somewhat somber; mouthpiece Matt Berninger was sick and unhappy, and though the show was phenomenal the aftertaste was not so sweet. But something was palpably different this night, from the moment the band walked onstage to the strains of Leonard Cohen’s “Famous Blue Raincoat” to the last note of the second encore. Maybe it was the crowd’s unbridled affection given voice in rapturous cheers before and after every single song. Maybe it was the band, enjoying headlining a show after a month spent opening for R.E.M. (as Berninger said, “it’s so nice to play inside at night again.”). Maybe it was just the goofiness of playing a venue with the same name as your band. Whatever it was, the band, and for that matter the crowd, was better than I ever thought possible. And believe you me, that’s pretty fucking good.

For most of the set, the spacious stage was full, the original five being aided by a trio of boys with horns, keys, and a violin. It seemed imperative the plus three were there, as they helped give the songs a richness beyond even what the albums offer. It took about half of opening song “Start a War” for me to start thinking how much I love this band. In a way, they’re a classic American rock band; poignant lyrics and strong, powerful instrumentation. Matt Berninger is a story-teller, a scene-setter, capable of writing beautiful songs about the little details in addition to standard song fodder.

It was a love-fest from start to finish. The band was jubilant, and even the most mope-inducing songs were played with an air of celebration. Thank-you’s were said after nearly every song, and occasional spates of endearing banter peppered the set. Naturally, the band/venue name thing came up, and Berninger jokingly said how nice it was to have the venue named after them.

High points abounded, from the deafening clap-along to Bryan Devendorf’s pounding opening drums in “Squalor Victoria” to the introduction of “Abel” as “not religious” and Berninger’s intensity therein while shouting “my mind’s not right,” to the dedication of one of my absolute favorites, the hypnotic “Wasp Nest,” to Mama Dessner. The whole show was breathtaking. Many of the songs were given the extended instrumental treatment, featuring various solos and played long past their original stopping points. At the end of “Ada,” one of my favorites from latest album Boxer, someone yelled “amazing,” and the band collectively blushed. Adding to their nice-guy mystique, “Daughters of the Soho Riots” was dedicated to opening band Centro-Matic. “Mistaken for Strangers” was one of the strongest songs of the night, ferocious from start to finish. And to my amazement, the crowd sang along to “Fake Empire,” the final song of the set. It was the perfect way to close, but the crowd wasn’t going anywhere.

Happily, neither was the band. Mere moments later they were back, greeted by a roar from a still-jammed venue. Berninger opened by telling a story about the R.E.M. tour, and how they longed to play encores but weren’t able to. The crew cleared their stuff as soon as they went off stage. Of the trio of songs in the first encore, “All the Wine” was the most impressive to me. I’ve heard it live before, but they absolutely killed it this time. “Mr. November” was dedicated to “Barack,” and I began to think of the song in a whole new way, since I’d never before thought of it as being remotely political. The song itself was a raucous racket, just the way it ought to be.

You might have thought that would be it, another great song to close out their show. But no. The masses weren’t going anywhere, and so the band came back once more. They launched into the lovely, not oft-played “You’ve Done it Again, Virginia,” which I had never heard before. But the piece de resistance came next, their nineteenth and final song of the night. It’s in my top five National songs, and I didn’t expect to hear it. It caught my off guard. “About Today” was so beautiful, it almost made me cry.

I’ve gotta say, if it hadn’t been for that little thing in California I went to earlier, this would be my show of the year. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been to a show where the air was as electric, and the love between audience and band so obvious. Matt Berninger said it was going to “suck to go play other venues after this,” and I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to see a show there without remembering this one. As the theme from “Rocky” played, we all emptied out onto Broad Street, and I fell a little bit more in love with a band I thought I couldn’t possibly love any more.

Set List:

Start a War
Brainy
Secret Meeting
Baby, We’ll Be Fine
Slow Show
Squalor Victoria
Racing Like a Pro
Abel
Wasp Nest
Ada
Apartment Story
Daughters of the Soho Riots
Mistaken for Strangers
Fake Empire
---------------
Green Gloves
All the Wine
Mr. November
---------------
You’ve Done it Again, Virginia
About Today

[photo by Megan Petty – from 2006 Black Cat show]

Live Review: Islands @ Black Cat, May 22

My first live Islands experience took place in Brooklyn. It was a rainy spring afternoon, and the band and as many people as could fit into Fix were spending some up-close-and-personal quality time together. The band looked a little grumpy, but played splendidly. The second time, I was with a few hundred additional people, watching Islands don their whites and play at the Black Cat. That, too, was a pretty darned good show. But those shows were both years ago. How would my third Islands show be, what with the evidently abrupt departure of founding member J’Aime and all.

Silly, silly Megan. There was no need to fret. I had a great time, as did the rest of the sardine-can normally known as the Black Cat. The band made an interesting sartorial choice, everyone in black, black, and more black, apart from Nick’s white tank top under a black hoodie. It made sense: new album, new look, new color.

What wasn’t new was the band’s ability to fill the room with large helpings of outstanding oddballness, scintillating silliness, and quixotic quirkiness. The older songs get more cheers than did songs from new release Arm’s Way, but each song was played beautifully, and the crowd loved it all. I think I even caught some smiles coming from the stage, as well. Bathed in red light (which, sadly, didn't make for great photos), the band played and played, a shining example of intensity, radness, and discipline.

Highlights for me, if I had to pick, were the 80s-esque, supremely dance-worthy “Creeper,” instrumentally ambitious “The Arm,” “Pieces of You,” “Life in Jail” (resplendent with live chains!), and my likely favorite Islands song of all time, “I Feel Evil Creeping In.” Each song was bathed in the eccentricity Islands fans have come to know and love, and yet every song also sounded technically perfect. That’s the thing about Islands, the songs are demonstrations of controlled chaos. They might sound like little train wrecks, but rest assured that Nick Thorburn and co. know exactly what they’re doing. And I’m glad they do, because Islands is definitely one of the best live bands around these days.

[photo by Megan Petty]

Singles Club: Brendan Canning

Sometimes it's got to be a pain in the ass to be a musician these days, what with the World Wide Interwebs seemingly there at every turn making life harder for you. You bust your hump to make a new album and damned if somebody doesn't leak the thing to the world via those stalwarts like Limewire, etc. Such is the case for Brendan Canning, at least. The latest from the so far wonderful Broken Social Scene Presents... series, Canning found his Something For All Of Us out there on the web well ahead of its originally slated July 22 release date.

In his own words on the Arts & Crafts website:

"It has come to my attention that an unmastered version of my album has been leaked through the internet. With the retail release being six weeks away, I've decided to correct the situation by releasing the album digitally myself, because I can. So this is for all you early birds who just couldn't wait for July 22nd. But you know, it won't be like going to your favorite record shop and getting a copy in your hot little hands, or sitting in your basement downloading it to your iTouch phone while playing 'Grand Theft Auto'. It merely corrects the situation that is...a messed up version of my record floating around on the internet, and this is not how I wanted my record to drop. Believe me, this is not a minor situation. We're talking recall here folks... With all of this in mind, please note: Something for All of Us... will be available at all fine retail and digital outlets in North America July 22nd with some additional artwork inside and slightly later for the rest of the world.

Thank you all, please enjoy.

BC"

Now, on the one hand, he's got to be pissed that all that hard work has been pre-empted, moreso because it's apparently in lesser form. On the other side of the fence, though, I have to think he's at least partially flattered that his new CD is in such high demand that nefarious evil doers are out there to fix the jones of so many BSS fans worldwide.

Regardless, the new track, "Hit the Wall", is pretty damn money, with all sorts of indie goodness. While I don't doubt that BC has every reason to be pissed, this track is going to make me go out and buy the CD on July 22.

An Open Letter to the Industry

Dear All,

Perhaps you've noticed the sidebar we have about emailing us when you have a problem with a song being posted on this here site. We put that notice up to avoid getting into unpleasant situations. Up to now, evidently there had been no problems.

But someone affiliated with a band that shall remain nameless (though they have fallen mightily in our estimation and will probably never be mentioned here again) decided to go above our heads and complain elsewhere, instead of coming to us and asking/ordering a certain song to be removed.

Fine. Big record labels hate little music blogs, because god forbid a few people might get one song here and there.

However, from this side, it seems ridiculous. Certainly we can't speak for all music blogs, but we started this one because we both love music more than just about anything, and both love to learn about and share music that makes us happy. We'd probably put money on that being the impetus for most music blogs. All we ask, dear band/label folk, is that if you don't want us to have a song posted here, please ASK US TO TAKE IT DOWN. And we will. It's seriously that simple. There is no need for anything else to be done.

In a bid to combat any further issues, we're taking down most of the old mp3s on this site. And in future, any song we post will be available for one week only, so get 'em before they're gone.

And with that, we bid you good day for now.

Love and kisses,

Les Enfants Terribles

Singles Club: Autolux

Autolux's Future Perfect is probably the best album of the decade that most people haven't heard. Sure, the band got some cherry opening gigs, most notably for Nine Inch Nails a few years back, but the gang never seemed to garner the public attention and adoration I feel they so richly deserve. The band pretty much had it all: a chick on drums, a guitarist from Failure and a vocalist with downright haunting capabilities. For all that, though, a follow-up never seemed to materialize. Quite frankly, I was afraid this gem of a band was going to ride into the sunset with nary a word outside of some local gigs.

Well, I'm delighted to report that the wait appears to be about over. Autolux has released the first single, "Audience", from the upcoming album to be released later this summer. The trademark sound remains intact: spooky guitars, kick ass, military precision drums and those otherwordly vocals. While it is not a departure from Future Perfect, this is by no means a bad thing. If anything, the track plays to the band's strengths and makes me that much hungrier for the next installment.

While the band is offering the new single for free download, the gang still does need to make a buck or two for the effort. As such, they have set up a site for donations. For the record, I paid a dollar and feel like I certainly got my money's worth. Do the right thing and do the same.

Album Review: Cut Copy – In Ghost Colours

Australia’s Cut Copy is poised for Very Big Things. I say this not only after witnessing their sensational, jam-packed party of a set at Coachella, as well as two stellar, jam-packed parties of gigs in DC and Baltimore, but because their second album, In Ghost Colours, is insanely, freakishly, remarkably good. Almost frighteningly so.

To me, Cut Copy is very similar to mid-80s New Order, but instead of having the drizzly grey of Manchester (and the then-recent death of Ian Curtis) hanging over their sound and seeping somberly into the songs, Cut Copy have wide, sunny expanses of noise, full of love and hope. But the tight, taut electro stuff is very akin to one another, and at times the vocals tread the same territory as well. The sound is very mature and pulled together, despite Cut Copy’s fairly small back catalogue.

In Ghost Colours is the kind of album you can listen to for hours at a time, many days in a row. Trust me, I speak from experience. The fifteen songs fly by, even the shorter, purely instrumental tracks. Nothing feels like filler, and everything flows along nicely. It’s one hell of a party album, so you might want to prepare a dancefloor in your living room.

The loved-up “Feel the Love” starts things off, and the line “all the clouds have silver linings” is quite possibly an apt way to think of this album. Not the cloud part, of course. The knob-twiddling shimmers effortlessly along, and Dan Whitford’s 80s-esque vocals add to the overall good vibes. “Out There on the Ice” is all dance, all the time, bringing in some serious beats and the images of hordes of people flailing about to the music. One of my absolute favorites, “Unforgettable Season,” shines with Whitford’s empassioned vocals and building beats backed by Mitchell Scott’s deceptively simple drumming. And “Far Away,” the cream of the crop, is a delightful little love song that you can dance to.

All in all, Cut Copy came out of the gates at full speed, chomping at the bit, and with guns blazing. And their enthusiasm has been well worth it, since In Ghost Colours is a fine, foxy little album. If you’re into things like fun, dancing, fun, and oh yes, fun, you might want to check it out.

Meet Jimmy the Fingers

Crass lyrics. Big beats. Cheeky humor. What do these things have in common? Brighton's Jimmy the Fingers, that's what.

Mr. Fingers found me on Myspace recently, and I was instantly in smit. He's a one-man assault on the senses, mixing big, beaty samples with funny lyrics about cash machines and qualities he likes in the ladies. He does what he does very well, and definitely has a pervasive (and perverted) feeling of fun in his songs. Here's what Jimmy himself has to say about, well, himself:

"God damn it who is that guy? Jimmy what? Fingers? What's that all about, he likes fingering does he what kind of pervert is that guy? What? a collection of atoms? what the fuck are you talking about fella? he's just one guy... getting fatter and skinnier, happier and sadder by the day...he's not "a collection"... he's like a melon sort of shaped head, well ok then a hairy melon, with a moustache. you know? a must-ash?"

"Fk You" is probably my favorite of the songs he's got posted on Myspace, a downtempo ode to getting it on. And really, you've gotta admire a guy who just puts it out there, with "I just really wanna fuck you" being the refrain in this little party anthem. His cover of "Mrs. Robinson" is also a treat, and I love the way he flipped the script and slowed it down. It's a great interpretation.

Do I state the obvious, here? It's a party in Jimmy the Fingers' pants, and ladies, we're invited. Or maybe he looks at it more as there being a party the pants of others, and Jimmy wants in. Either way, give the gentleman a listen.

[Photo by Ali Tollervay]

Live Review: Black Keys @ 9:30 Club, May 12

I've said it before and I know I'll say it again: quite frankly, the Black Keys are the finest rock band touring today. For reasons I can't figure out, the White Stripes get far more love, but if you want a rocking good time that will blow your freaking doors off, look no further than the duo of Dan Auerbach (vox and guitar) and Patrick Carney (skins). These two will rock you harder in an hour than most bands can accomplish in a year.

I literally walked into the door of the 9:30 Club last night as the boys took the stage for what proved to be another scorcher, the first of a two night gig kicking off their East Coast tour. (And I've got tickets to night two, too. You can begin feeling jealous whenever you please). Playing in front of a vintage rock light show and an over sized, inflated rubber tire emblazoned with the band's name and Akron, Ohio, Auerbach quickly acknowledged the crowd and then launched into it.

The Keys played crowd favorites all night long, from their original album, The Big Come Up, (Busted) to their latest, Attack & Release (Strange Times). In between, the crowd was treated to such tracks as "10 A.M. Automatic", "Stack Shot Billy," "Set You Free" and "You're the One", pretty much hitting the high points of their entire catalogue. Personally, I would have loved to have heard "Grown So Ugly", but what can you do?

Now, for those of you that have never seen the Keys perform live before, Carney beats the drums like he walked in on them sleeping with his girlfriend. The man must go through a dozen drum sticks a night. He reminds me of a current day John Bonham, doing more with a small drum kit than most marching bands do with an entire percussion section. Auerbach looks more and more like Chris Robinson every time I see him, but he plays guitar like a blues master and has a voice that sounds roughly 40 years older than he is. Combined, the two create a scuzzy, garage-blues-rock sound that should be the envy of every kid interested in becoming a rock star. Again, screw the White Stripes, the Black Keys are where it's at.

The boys played for about an hour before taking a brief break and returning for a quick encore. While there was not a great deal of audience patter between songs, these guys let their instruments do the talking for them. And speak well they did.

As Auerbach pointed out about midway through the set, "We're going to play more songs tomorrow night, but we're going to play better this evening." I'll have to let you know how Night Two goes, but he wasn't messing around with his take on Night One's pyrotechnics.

For those of you that would like to hear for yourself the Black Keys' second night in DC, NPR has been kind enough to stream the show for your listening pleasure:

I'm the guy screaming. And one of the half naked fans he mentions. In case you were wondering.

[Photo by Todd M. Duym]