The White Rabbits shot their “Percussion Gun” right in the face of an Orlando audience at The Social on Friday, the 9th of April. From what I gathered, the turnout for this show was smaller than their last cramped appearance, but the crowd here was dedicated Rabbit fans and not just indie buzz seekers. Here We Go Magic opened the show and I was surprised by the last third of their performance. It took on a bigger, more experimental shoegaze feel than the indie pop of the first portion.
White Rabbits charged through a set evenly peppered with material from Fort Nightly and It’s Frightening. The crowd fed off the energy of their percussive drive with attention on multi-percussionist Matt Clark. The rest of the band showed their diversity as they traded instruments throughout the show. They saved heavy ammo for the exit, hitting the crowd with “The Plot” and “While We Go Dancing” toward the end and closed with “Lioness” and “Percussion Gun.” It was a decent show, although it didn’t live up to the “oh my god, they are so good live hype.” I’d give it a “meh” on the awesome scale.
The little college town of Athens, Georgia has a rich and varied history of progressive rock music – from The B-52′s and R.E.M to the musical collective responsible for the likes of Neutral Milk Hotel and Elf Power. Danger Mouse is also an Athens transplant who began his stellar career in the humble little city. This rock pedigree is alive and well in Athens natives The Whigs.
The Whigs are back with their third official release in In the Dark. This album continues to refine and expand the approach of the little 3-piece outfit with a huge sound. They embrace the indie, low-fi, garage rock approach, but amp it up to arena volume. The Whigs create an aural aesthetic reminiscent of The Replacements or Camper van Beethoven with a slight southern twist, but played through the Smashing Pumpkins sound rig with powerful, competent drumming and a thick, comfy sonic snuggie of guitar.
In the Dark tears through 11 songs with power and energy. The record starts with a hum rising from the din giving way to a circular drum pattern and the heavy, effects-laden bass guitar crunch of the hook-y “Hundred/ Million” and doesn’t relent through the screeching and stuttering effects at the end of “In the Dark” to the moody ambient intro of the closer “Naked.” The straight-forward garage sound is dressed up and made that much more alluring by doses of shoegaze bombast. Songs like “Black Lotus” are so raw and catchy, but the piling of guitar effects and overdubs elevate the delivery and overall appeal. This is an outstanding effort from a demure bunch of guys that let the music do the talking. The power of the music will keep Abraham Lincoln and Henry Clay from rolling in their graves and may be enough to get them to rock out.
I went to this show at the urging of a good friend in San Francisco – “Oh-mi-God, you will love this band. They are sooo good and you will totally walk out of the show with a crush on their singer, Yukimi Nagano.” She was right. They are from Sweden (though Yukimi speaks fluent, accent-free English) and they put on a hell of a show. Despite having around 70 people show-up, the music, the performance, the attendee’s good spirits, and more importantly, Nagano’s charm, exuberance, powerful voice, and Karen-O-ish antics made it feel like 250 people were there. They ran through an hour and 20 minutes worth of their future-indie-electro-proto-soul (I just made that up) with energy and charisma. It is like Morcheeba meets the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, then swallows Sade. They started quiet and worked the crowd into a frenzy. Part of this was due to the audience – we made Orlando look good. The scant few that showed up were grateful that LD was here. The crowd chanted, clapped in time, and even danced (poorly) on stage. The awkward smiles on the band’s faces showed they were giddy with the overwhelming response from our city.
Avi Buffalo was a band I was interested in checking out because of one song really. I wasn’t sure if I’d like any of the other stuff from them. It sounded sort of juvenile at first, but when I settled in to watch the show it was really good. Their last two songs showed a more mature stage presence with a solid delivery of their single “What’s In It For?” and the last song which let Avi (Avigdor Zahner-Isenberg) flex a little guitar muscle while the band expanded the song in a slightly psychedelic jam out. The show ended with Avi going ba-nanas with feedback and manipulating his effects board Jonny Greenwood style in wall of screeching sound. That’s a great exit in my book.
“What’s In It For?”
Rogue Wave was excellent. They relied heavy on the new album, but played a handful of the best songs in their catalog. “Chicago x 12″ didn’t make it on the setlist but RW played a killer, full band re-working of “Eyes” complete with a building and melodic free-form intro. They also delivered a climactic version of “Lake Michigan” with drummer, Pat Spurgeon, working the crowd up to a frenzy with a clap-along drum intro. Rogue Wave was exactly what I thought; a talented band with a bigger sound playing an intimate, small venue.
“We Will Make A Song Destroy” This is one of the stand-out tracks on the new Permalight.
“Harmonium”
“Good Morning (The Future)”
“Sleepwalker”
“Permalight” allowed some O-town fans to dance drunkenly on stage. I think someone disconnected Zach Rogue’s mic while dancing …
What happened to the days when metal shows played late into the night? Maybe they still exist, just not when Firestone has a hip-hop club night to host. I was excited to hear Prong do classics like “Prove You Wrong” and “Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck” live as I missed them the first time around when I was 15 years old. No go. The doors opened at 6 (6!) despite their website’s proclamation of 8 PM. Alas, no Prong for me, but following a brief hassle at the door I was able to check out the end of Soulfly’s crushing set. Max’s classic “demon-choke” voice was grizzled and mean standing strong in front of a wall of guitar. Energy levels were high as they chugged through a grab bag of Soulfly and Sepultura’s greatest hits including “Babylon” and “Roots Bloody Roots” As I was held up at the door, I swore I could hear Slayer’s “Angel of Death.” Had I known it was going to be a classic thrash bonanza like this I would have been the first in line. One of the highlights of the show was the¬†surreal mingling of Firestone’s Sunday evening club crowd and the gnarley bunch of metal degenerates at the doors following the show. No one was hurt.
“Babylon” Listen for me to get chucked out from behind the stage by a bloated and surly roadie.
“Roots Bloody Roots” from Max’s other band Sepultura.
I’ve always had a hard time identifying with Vampire Weekend. Maybe it’s because I didn’t go to an Ivy League college or that I don’t understand the desperate pleas to “Get out of Cape Cod,” but whatever it is, it irks me on some level. From a certain perspective it seems sniveling, egalitarian, and condescending. Take “Horchata” – the first song from the new album Contra ‚it’s like a chai’s and latte’s are just too bourgeois to sing about.
From another vantage, minus the snooty, loafer wearing, sweater-over-the-shoulder New England elitist perspective, VW is a fresh, clever, and slightly innovative take on pop rock. The comparisons to Paul Simon are all valid, but they deliver their Graceland meets The Talking Heads sound with a four-piece band.
Contra delivers the Vampire Weekend sound we recognize from their debut without sounding retread. To the contrary, it sounds fresher, tighter, and more mature. Their influences broaden, but they incorporate them more seamlessly and inventive than before. “Horchata” with its vocal, xylophone intro that sweeps into a large pounding rhythm section with synthesizers and back again starts the album off in familiar fashion, but subtle twists are added to reveal influences. VW sites Paul’s Boutique, Brazilian Baile Funk, dancehall, Bollywood, and 1983 NYC among many others as inspiration on Contra and they’re felt.
A recent live, acoustic performance of “Cousins,” a kinetic, fun, and catchy single that sounds like it could be from the chase scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, shows the band to be precise and polished. They’ve stepped up the musicality as they move through the rapid pace and frenetic changes. This allegro delivery, also evident in “Holiday” and “California English” almost serves to make VW harder. Not really heavy, but a little more “edge” while preserving the playful poppy-ness that people hold dear. Despite the quickened pace “California English” still manages to used layered backing vocals – almost like a string section, then, bring in some real strings for the bridge to smooth out the tune.
“Run” implements a clever percussion pattern, building up to a ska infused horn part and bursting into a chorus of 80′s electro pop. “Giving up the Gun” continues the reliance on nifty drum beats but leans more heavily on the electronic influence of loops and synth parts twisting around driving bass lines to deliver. Love ‘em or hate ‘em Contra further establishes Vampire Weekend as a serious contender in defining their sound and soul.
Originally appeared in REAX Online, February 2, 2010
A full moon hung over the perfect storm that brewed below on the streets of downtown Miami. On a near 80 degree night in late-December, New Year’s Eve revelers, Phish heads, and Lady Gaga fans came together in such a mind-boggling confluence that it didn’t merely defy the laws of physics, but actually tore a hole in the space-time continuum. A¬† black hole, a swirling vortex of ravenous nothingness actually appeared over Biscayne Bay for a brief moment.
Droves of screaming maniacs, laden with glitter and noise makers roamed madly around the streets and sidewalks of the James L. Knight Sports Complex – and those were just the New Year’s Eve partiers! As I made my way through the downtown Hyatt, a rather large, gay man in a sparkle shirt and some type of sequined bald, skull cap stormed by with two over-sized Latino girls in under-sized tutu’s. Face bright red with his eyes blazing wildly, he began yelling out loud, “Oh my God! Oh my God! Please! Please, if you find a ticket on the floor, please give it to me. It’s mine and it fell out of my pocket – Oh God! Oh my God, I paid so much¬† money for that ticket. I’m going to fucking cry, oh God!” The girls seemed unphased. “God speed crazy gay dude,” I thought to myself. “GaGa fan,” my wife guessed. This became a game for her throughout the night; “Wook or Gaga.”
Tokyo or Miami? The packed trains around downtown.
The full moon heaved the throngs of people back and forth across downtown like the tides. A fine line between modest control and absolute chaos was drawn in the sands that night. Bumper-to-bumper traffic ebbed while waves of humanity – from people dressed-up for the glammy festivities of the night to those who haven’t showered for days – flowed across the streets, between cars and across intersections with utter disregard for traffic laws.¬† People selling liquor from coolers, others selling a wide range “party favors” from their pockets or trunks of their cars, the streets of downtown Miami were lined with¬† nitrous tanks – hundreds of people brandishing over-sized balloons, like some sort of twisted carnival. It was mayhem, but with only a (visibly) minor police presence, everybody maintained. I didn’t see one violent or criminal (besides the open drug use) act. People of all groups were kind and friendly and despite being on the precipice of complete disorder; everything went off without a hitch.
This is my first Phish show. Part of the reason I never got involved is that it seems like another language, a cult with a secret handshake. It made being a late-coming fan just seem so daunting. Another thing was that the music didn’t do much for me. I understand that these guys are master-musicians, and I love music that is heavy on improvisational jam, but Phish seemed like a nerdy jazz-fusion band with goofy lyrics. A good portion of my friends are hardcore Phish fans and some of my most musically knowledgeable friends are Phish heads as well. They just seem to care about music, so I had to experience Phish for myself.
There is almost no need to discuss Phish’s musical prowess. These guys lay it down. Each member is absurdly talented, though I would have liked to see drummer, Jon Fishman, have some more power. His touch is unnervingly soft and delicate – unbelievably precise – but very soft. I would love to see Trey let out an unrestrained banshee cry, kick over his mic stand,¬† and shred is guitar over his head, then run back and hump the guitar on the amp in an orgy of feedback and distortion – but I guess that’s not really them. They don’t have much stage presence (except on trampolines), but then again their music and the tender connection with their audience is far more powerful.
The first thing to notice is the raw energy of the crowd. It is uncanny, transforming a stale arena show into a festival.
Section 104's "Glow Man" aka Bill
People aren’t texting and talking as much as I thought. They are hanging on every note, surging with the same energy on the streets and in the halls hours before the show as they are 3 hours into it. There is really nothing like it.
The set-list was stellar according to true fans and I felt like I was at a giant party for four hours. I have never attended an arena show that ended at 1:40 AM. They began the show with “AC/DC Bag” and continued through the night with 3 separate 1 hour and 20 minute sets. Following the New Year’s celebration, Phish foisted one of their trademark gags on the crowd:
Drummer, Fishman, climbs into the disco ball that descended from the ceiling at midnight.
The ball was then loaded into a cannon which was to fire it into a net over the audience. The disco ball was shot through the roof instead of the net.
A helicopter then comes and lands on the roof, presumably to sweep Jon Fishman to safety. Then Phish are left without a drummer … or are they?!
A member of the audience is then chosen “at random.” A girl comes down from the lower bowl and at some point behind the amplifiers she ducks down and Jon Fishman wearing the same outfit as the girl emerges. The unsuspecting crowd thinks this girl is sitting with Phish to play her favorite song, “Fluffhead.” She (he) starts off shaky and then tears it up to the crowds amazement. I was sitting behind the stage at this point and could see it transpire. I actually saw it and was still duped for a few minutes. So at the end of the show, this “girl” who’s been drumming comes out to take a bow. Jon Fishman ducks behind the amps again and the girl runs to center stage. Abra-cadabra bitches! Later, the drummer, comes out for the encore dressed as the girl to let everyone in on the gag. Ha ha, cray-zay!
SET LIST:
Set I:AC/DC Bag, 46 Days, Water in the Sky, Bathtub Gin, Punch You in the Eye, The Moma Dance, Guyute, Swept Away> Steep, Demand> Seven Below, Lawn Boy, Julius
Set II: Rock and Roll> Piper, Simple, Theme from the Bottom, Shine A Light, Ghost1> NO2, Suzy Greenberg
Set III:Party Time2> Auld Lang Syne> Down With Disease3, Fluffhead, Joy, The Squirming Coil, You Enjoy Myself
Encore: Blue Moon4, Lovin’ Cup
This year’s Anti*Pop Festival saw the doubling of the bands on the bill, more venues, a strong focus on homegrown music, a stellar list of bands from all genres with the usual heavy doses of hidden gems, all while reducing the price of a 4-day pass to a single payment of $25. That’s over 150 bands and 4 nights of music for $25! Orlando’s newest and coolest tradition continues to forge ahead in its bold, indie manner.
The Festival started off on a positive note with the big show being The Antlers and Minus the Bear at Firestone.
I was absolutely amazed at the turnout for a Wednesday night. The show was packed, I mean packed and the crowd seemed to be split exactly in half between people intent on fondling strangers and those who shun human contact. Personally, I lost track of the amount of times I was hand-fucked at around 37.
I was curious about YACHT as I seem to be drawn to their infectious hipster pop sound.
YACHT surprised me with their FischerSpooner-like, glammy, pop-on-a-laptop David Byrnes-esque performance.
I thought they were saying, “I’m in love with a stripper” … That would be cooler.
Thursday night was metal night at Will’s and Uncle Lou’s:
Black Tusk from Savannah, Georgia. They were so loud my face hurt. Not in a cool way, more like a health risk way.
Not sure who Khann is, kind of suck, but I am going to say this: best drummer in town.
Wrath of Khann
Hands down, the show to for me this year was Marky Ramones’ Blitzkrieg. I was lucky enough to see The Ramones play at Visage on North OBT in 1991. Yeah I know, MRB is just¬† 1/4 (or 1/5 depending on how you look at it) of The Ramones, but hearing them rip through songs like “I Wanna be Sedated” and “The KKK Took my Baby Away” filled my black rock ‘n roll heart with joy.
The Kings of Leon have two fantastic albums full of hip, catchy, cool and fun garage rock … then I don’t know what the fuck happened. The whole “Sex is on Fire” and “Use Somebody” thing took mainstream dorks by storm and all but erased my previous opinions of the band. This show was the third time I saw them. To tell you the truth, they have a true songwriting talent which is amazing because it takes the entire band’s full concentration to struggle through a song – even though they played for years. So it is obvious that there is not going to be any jamming, rocking out, improvisation, or anything adventurous, but it seems like they found the perfect crowd for that – everyone. The show at UCF only drove that point home with goofballs and drunken frat boys caterwauling at the tops of their voices.
From the days when they were palatable “Slow Night, Long Night”