This week at work I've been exploring NPR's Live Music Archive and, to put it simply, its the only thing that got me to the weekend. After listening to much-expected solid shows from Wilco, Bon Iver, and Stephen Malkmus, I was blown away at how much I got out of Jonathan Rice.
I had heard of Rice many years ago through a friend. He's actually the older brother of a kid who was on my 8th grade basketball team. Forgive me, Keiran, for not taking you seriously when you said "My older brother writes songs, you know."
Jonathan Rice graduated From Gonzaga College High School, one of the top Jesuit high schools in the nation, and a close brother school to my alma mater, St. Joseph's Prep (our list of noteworthy alumni includes the Phillie Phanatic, among other, non-ATV driving world leaders). Anyways, his performance from this year's SXSW sounds particularly Neil Young-ish circa On the Beach. How can a stringy Scotsman make such twangy roots-rock drenched in melodies evocative of pie crusts and Texas highways?
Now that Obama and Hillary have united a once divided Democratic Party (appearing together in Unity, New Hampshire was cheesy I know, but the point remains the same)....now that Barack Obama leads in national polls over John McCain by an average of seven points....now that the future of conservatism in America is looking increasingly grim...now are desperate times for those opposed to the election of Barack Obama in November, and desperate times call for desperate measures.
c/o Zaius Nation
After takingwidespread heat for the false Swiftboat Veteran’s for Truth adds that publicly sabotaged Senator John Kerry’s presidential campaign in 2004 (the fact that he looked like Frankenstein didn’t help either), the conservative propag anda machine has resorted to less mainstream means to begin their mis-leading manipulation of the public’s perception of Barack Obama.I speak of the internet.Mass emails.False rumors.Lies derived for the sole purpose of scaring the American people from the one man they need the most.
Just yesterday a classmate, an ex-Marine ,and very intellectual person from past interactions, tapped my shoulder and said, “Hey Nate, did you hear about “the whitey” video!Michelle Obama is on tape saying how pissed she is at the 'whiteys.'I knew she was racist, how can you not be going to a church with that black preacher who hates white America?”I looked back at him surprised, then politely responded, “I doubt such a video exists.”Turns out I was correct, as has been the case on a multiple of claims others believe based on an email their uncle-in-law sent them.No, Obama did not swear on the Koran instead of the Bible.No, Obama is not a Muslim.No, Obama did not attend a radical Islamic madrassa as a child in Indonesia (it was a public school with American-inspired separation of church and state statutes in place).No, Barack Hussein Obama is not a genetic superbeing comprised of duel-DNA of both Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden, but I bet someone out there believes it.
The only thing more surprising than the blatant butchering of the truth present in the smears is the impact they are having on otherwise intelligent Americans, and I’m tired of it.Apparently, so is Barack Obama.He recently responded to a number of these “forwarded falsehoods” by creating a new website that disproves them with clarity and reliable sources.If you are going to spend your time on the internet to find out the truth about the presidential candidates, I recommend you pay a visit to both…
I'm uncomfortable with the fact that summer has become, at just barely age 20, nothing more than another few months of the year in which to do work. Maybe its merely a Northeast mentality - to feel that even in the off-season you should not only be keeping in shape but juicing up for next year. For instance, it's become nearly impossible for a college student to obtain an internship without previously having one on their resume. For the lucky ones who have them, if you're not relentlessly preparing for the possible post-internship career you're wasting the opportunity. It never ends. Work dictates my non-work life.
Don't get me wrong, I like work, but when did summer vacation turn into "summer weekends and one week if you're lucky"?
The reason for the lapse in regular posting is that I've been re-directing my efforts towards more active freelance. I've made a conscientious effort to let this sad little page stand on its own, but here are two recent pieces from publications outside my laptop...
My Morning Jacket
Evil Urges (ATO)
Rating: Meh, like Mexican food in Philly.
On their fifth studio album lead singer/guitarist Jim James has completed rehab for his lifelong addiction to reverberated vocals. But don’t cut that sobriety cake yet—James emerges with a slew of new retrofitted masks in the likes of Dylan, Prince and Brian Wilson. The early gem “Thank You Too!” is followed by copycat fillers, and “Highly Suspicious” is a lame neo-Kraut groove that should’ve never seen the light of day. The album’s title is a likely allegory for MMJ’s unavoidable (de)evolution from alt-country shepherds to messiahs of Americana.
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But they're still one of the best live bands in the actively touring/not past their prime category, as is evident from Friday night's show at Radio City. Check out the encore, and listen to the guy holding the camera or someone around him sing the guitar line...
Twenty-six-year-old Anthony Gonzalez does not remember the Reagan ’80s. Gonzalez, the French electronica connoisseur who performs under the name M83, does, however, subscribe to the sensationalized worlds that exist solely within the two-hour time span of John Hughes’ teenage melodramas of that decade. When pressed as to why his new album, Saturdays = Youth, evokes an era that came and went before he’d reached puberty, Gonzalez has told reporters, “[Being a teenager] was one of the best periods of my life.” Fittingly, M83’s night at Philadelphia’s First Unitarian Church had all the elements of a classic Hughes gusher: celebration, empathy, nostalgia, timidity and a rousing final number to augment Judd Nelson’s declarative closing-frame fist pump.
Known mostly for mood-heavy landscapes painted by synthesizers, M83 was originally a partnership between Gonzalez and Nicolas Fromageau until Fromageau’s departure following 2003’s Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts. After the split, Gonzalez introduced vocals and more readily apparent song structures on 2005’s Before The Dawn Heals Us, a stepping stone for the new Saturdays = Youth. While various forms of shoegaze have always been at the forefront of electro-indie, M83’s take on the yard-sale-organ sound is vastly different from the more recognizable names of this sub-genre (Simian Mobile Disco, Four Tet). As a musician, Gonzalez works stealthily, layering textures and luring listeners into a sonic black hole while many of his contemporaries spend time on punchy beats and elementary fuzz tones.M83's deliberate aversion to danceable rhythms no doubt contributed to the Philadephia performance being booked as a seated show in a church sanctuary.
Fans filing into the 122-year-old building found no respite from the humidity on this early June night. Rising locals A Sunny Day In Glasgow threw the audience a curve when an opening folk/pop medley yielded cat shrieks and dog yelps from lead singer Lauren Daniels. The remainder of their 30-minute set, however, offered little more than faux-Cranberries vocals and poor use of an electric mandolin. More than 500 people were awaiting M83’s set when the chandeliers flickered off and distorted thunderclaps echoed from the empty stage. Though hardly visible in the darkness of the sanctuary, Gonzalez appeared onstage to toggle knobs and press buttons on his elaborate plexiglass computer cube and mounted synthesizer. The sound widened with heavy organ drones and meditative hums as the remaining three members of the M83 touring band took the stage, shaping what would become the opening epic “Waves, Waves, Waves.”
After some early technical difficulties, the band found its rhythm on “Graveyard Girl.” The lead-in drums and pleasantly piercing guitar line may too closely resemble “Just Like Heaven,” but it’s a difficult song to hate. Gonzalez’s floating whisper dominates the album version, but the live performance was highlighted by keyboardist Morgan Kibby, whose alto vocals all but held hands with Gonzalez’s baritone breaths. Kibby proved to be a driving force on Saturdays tracks such as “Skin Of The Night” and “Highway Of Endless Dreams."
As the show progressed, however, the audience creaked restlessly in the wooden pews as the band shuffled through older songs with no discernible beginning or end. The incessant coyote howl and shimmering cymbals of “Moon Child” dragged on five minutes too long, as did the failed automated/live hybrid of “We Own The Sky.” The finest example of M83’s nostalgic new direction, “Kim And Jessie,” translated well into a live setting even though the band didn’t stray an inch from the studio recording. After closing the show on an unexpectedly heavy tone, the band members returned soon after as Gonzalez petitioned, “Please stand up for our last song!” in a French-accented mumble. The swirling blips and syncopated beat of “Coleurs” grew piece by piece into a trance-like, instrumental hymn that ricocheted off the walls of the sanctuary. The final minutes of the show were a stark contrast to what was essentially a night of sitting quietly in church. The crowd bobbed and raved, and the floor shook under moving feet.
This heat wave is a killer, but i love it. I'm writing this from my front porch despite the inescapable humidity. And yes, drops of sweat are cliff-diving from my hairline and seeping through my fingertips but it's worth it to be outside after a day in a recirculated air conditioned office. It's especially hard to mindlessly stare at a computer screen or endless stacks of paper after a weekend like the one I just had.
I have Fridays off this summer. Sue me. I made this schedule with both of my jobs so as to encourage myself to take more weekend excursions, or, at the very least, to feel like my summer was truly a vacation from normal life. So far I like to think I've been making the most of it, but this weekend took the cake.
Thursday night after work I raced home from University City only to return not two hours later to see M.I.A. and Holy Fuck at The Armory. Despite Obama-in-State-College-esque lines to get in, the scene itself was a hoot. For the first time in a long time, Philadelphia really felt ahead of (edit: on pace with) the curve. The crowd of 18-30somethings was draped in Dayglo, capris, stick-figure jeans, hip-for-the-sake-of-hip sneaks, and sigh, Kanye shades. All of these isms and offshoots of the iPod generation melted together under the vast yet sweltering roof of the 33rd Street Armory. It was a ticketmaster-controlled/myspace promoted rave. So...uh...about as much of a rave as my Daft Punk Halloween party...
Holy Fuck opened with their pounding hybrid of lo-fi electro and live drum 'n bass. Have you heard their remix of Radiohead's "Nude" yet? They destroyed the competition like that time Homer entered the design your own Power Plant contest, ousting Martin Prince and infuriating the late Frank Grimes...sending him to an early grave. "I'm peeing on the seat, give me a raise!"
M.I.A. had a stellar show despite a mediocre sound over-saturated with rumbling bass. Her show(wo)manship evoked those classic Madonna tours you always see on VH1 countdowns. But this night wasn't about the music so much as it was the spectacle. Check out this Photo Gallery from Dan Murphy, it's so worth it (3rd one down). And here's great video c/o Philebrity:
Friday night I saw M83 in the First Unitarian Sauna. I'm currently reviewing the show for MAGNET Magazine so I'll post or link the finished product in due time. If so inclined, check out MAGNET's Live Reviews page for a piece I did about The Black Keys a few weeks ago.
I spent the latter half of Sunday (after sleeping off and cleaning up a Saturday night backyard BBQ) at the Manayunk bike races. No words and regrettably no pictures from this one. But here's what the front page of the Inquirer had to say:
"Consider the ritual of Bob Denbow and his friends. A lifelong Manayunker, Denbow, 44, began his race-day celebration around 7 a.m., two hours before the starter's pistol.
"First, we go to a barbecue off the Wall, but then by 9, we're here to watch," Denbow said. At 11 a.m., he was clutching a plastic cup of beer, wearing a sombrero and making plans to attend later parties and listen to bands that would set up on side streets.
"Nobody goes to work the next day," Denbow's friend Brook Robinson said. "We've got to recover."
Denbow said the race "is the best thing ever to happen to Manayunk."
Well, after what seemed like an eternity it is finally settled; Barack Obama is the democratic candidate for President of the United States! No more repetitive primary debates highlighting issues unimportant to the election at hand, no more confusing talk of superdelegates, but most of all, no more Hillary Clinton. Unlike what seems like the majority of America, including every Republican in existence, I never had an unfounded biased hate towards Hilldog. I gave her credit where credit was due and balanced her obvious eliteness and unlikeable personality with her dedication to her beliefs and impressive resume of past experience. I never hated her, until now. The fact that Hillary refused to even acknowledge Obama's victory last night was one of the most hard-headed and disrespectful acts I have ever witnessed in the public arena.
Quite the contrary, Obama's victory speech to over ten thousand screaming supporters in St. Paul, Minnesota was the single-most powerful public speech I have ever seen live. It was brilliant: his rhetoric the perfect balance of confidence and humility, his enthusiasm evident while maintaining the professionalism necessary for a commander in chief, his platform and beliefs clearly articulated in the midst of the celebration. With the poise and message of transformation reminiscent of the great Martin Luther King Jr., Barack had the crowd in a frenzy for the entirety of his 14 minute speech. "America, this is our moment. This is our time. Our time to turn the page on the policies of the past. Our time to bring new energy and new ideas to the challenges we face. Our time to offer a new direction for the country we love." While he consistently mentions his dislike for "pr" (as Rob Rigger of The Daily Show has hilariously illuminated), the Obama campaign has struck a chord with the American people and it comes in the form of one word, CHANGE. Change is what we want, and change is what we'll get. For the first time in eight years, I'm confident America is heading towards changed and better times.
If I'd written all the truth I knew for the past ten years, about 600 people - including me - would be rotting in prison cells from Rio to Seattle today. Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity in the context of professional journalism.- Hunter S. Thompson
