Black To Comm - Hotel Freund

The Kilimanjaro Darkjazz Ensemble - Here Be Dragons

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.  It's a good one...

Here Be Dragons possesses a unique quality of being stylistically special while at the same time striking a very strong vibration of nostalgia.  Time slows down and folds over as the myriad forms and styles are sent through a kaleidoscopic opium den.  The album cover is a striking acrylic painting done on wood by one Luke Berliner.  The girl depicted in the painting appears to be in a deep trance, eyelids heavy, casting a spell upon those who dare lose themselves within her gaze.  Her androgynous appearance as well as the dark, ambiguous nether-scape sets the mood up convincingly for sultry violins, burly trombones, haunted electronics, and a cast of other earthly and cosmic sounds to conjure a most splendid nocturne.  

Dock Ellis Throws a No Hitter on LSD

This is just a great story and a great montage of images/animation.

Dock Ellis & The LSD No-No - watch more funny videos

Passion Pit - Sleepyhead

Kilimanjaro Darkjazz Ensemble - "Lead Squid" - Video

The Kilimanjaro Darkjazz Ensemble "Lead Squid" from TheKilimanjaroDarkjazzEnsemble on Vimeo.

Pelican - What We All Come To Need

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet

Pelican have been using the heavy riff platform to capture a pop sensibility for years, and here on WWACTN we have catchy proto-metal storytelling along with the first taste of the band incorporating vocals. Whether they continue doing this is another matter, but the band sounds more crisp with its song writing. At times their riff-to-riff style can smell a bit like riff-by-number, arbitrarily piecing parts together, but Pelican get to the point more quickly here than on past albums, and it makes for a very satisfying listen -- Maybe as satisfying as the new Pelican Burger at Kuma's Corner in Chicago, who name all their burgers after famous metal bands. A ten ounce beef patty with pan-seared scallops and lardons in a garlic white wine sauce on top of a parmesan crisp, served with white wine-garlic aioli sounds good. If all this doesn't whet your appetite for a band that is doing metallic post-rock as good as anybody, then not much else will.

Nadja - Under The Jaguar Sun

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

Like a Mexican food platter, Nadja's latest opus has options.  I love habanero pepper salsa on a taco, but when it becomes oppressively spicy, I need antidotes like sour cream and fresh lime to soothe my burning mouth.  If I'm busy listening to Nadja, which usually means being consumed by alien guitar distortion and slow, plodding metal drums, sometimes I want out.  As blissed-out as Aidan Baker and Leah Buckareff can make their slow motion sludge, the mind occasionally changes gears before the music stops.  Under The Jaguar Sun is the umpteenth release from these dream-doom veterans, but it is the first that offers up a platter of devastating heat and cool, ambient refreshment, as the album features two, count 'em, two CDs to be played simultaneously!

MONO - Live - HFS!

Having a ticket for a show almost four months in advance is pretty crazy.  Every day is a chance to lose the thing, even when it's magnetically fixed to your fridge, not far from the desperate grasp of a compulsive, exploratory elfin warrior, such is my son.  Everest never got to my ticket, but in the end it turns out I didn't even need it, since Nikki the Seattle Showgal talked to Taka a couple days before and got me and a guest on MONO's backstage list.  So I ended up selling my ticket, briefly talking with Taka to thank him, and witnessing one of the most inspiring shows I've ever seen.

I brought Jon with me, who being fresh off a break-up and lonely, was a good candidate to surprise with this show.  He was having Thanksgiving with his former lady and a bunch of others, and I have a feeling I inadvertently saved him from that situation.  Too bad he missed Maserati, who were simply awesome.  My reaction to their records was tepid at best, but they are a formidable live act.  Jerry Fuchs, as advertised, is an incredible drumming machine.  People talk about this guy, but until you see how relentless he is, you know nothing.  The force with which he hits every snare and every other drum is HUGE, never letting up, no matter how many thousands have preceded the one in this moment.  Somehow he is as strong at the end as he is at the beginning of the set, maybe stronger.  And the band are attractive blokes with surgical skills on the delay.  Got my booty shakin'.  

This wasn't the type of opening band I was expecting for MONO, but it turned out to be perfect.  A little adrenaline preceding emotional catharsis, which is exactly what the Japanese rock group MONO are all about.  They are the champions of the quiet/loud/quiet post-rock, a style which has been all but played out.  MONO are a different breed however, because when they play, they go into a trance and experience absolute bliss.  Sometimes they see the audience, and sometimes not.  They are so involved in the music they make that they ignored their monitors catching on fire at the Montreal show during their first song.  Apparently they were so loud, equipment started smoking.  They finished "Ashes In The Snow" regardless.

I had the distinct pleasure of standing right next to Taka as he played.  At the Biltmore the sides of the stage have a cage along them, but you can look through and have a very intimate experience.  This man and his band are so passionate about music, it turns into a religious experience.  Hair in the face, facial expressions become moot, like MONO are black clad dolls programmed to slay the soul.  I hadn't ever been a huge fan of this band, but there is no doubt why they are so revered.  They are good and they are loud.

"Yearning" was a personal highlight, as I love You Are There as a whole album.  The guitar duet is so delicate at the beginning, it's like sad children playing on the rim of my eyelids, throwing balls of freedom into my tear ducts.  The explosion they launch into near the climax always catches me by surprise and I thought my spinal cord snapped in half when they got me again at the show.  SO LOUD.  Earplugs saved my life (and Jon's I reckon).  Wow are they loud.  Never get caught in front of MONO without them; You will be sorry. 

I was delighted to hear all the Hymn To The Immortal Wind material (sans orchestra) because I really hadn't appreciated it yet.  The songs are so strong and vivid, especially when Taka decides to get up and attack his guitar (like, karate chop it) because he felt like it.  And then later he's on the ground, reaching like a goner in the desert for his flange knob, geeking out in some holy way as he's splayed out for a couple minutes.  It would always take me by surprise when Taka or Yoda would stand up suddenly to really let their guitars have it.  I am not sure Taka even has a guitar strap, so he balanced it on his pelvis as he gyrated.  

This performance was so emotional and inspiring, it was like going to church (but for people who actually seek the divine, not some bland going-through-the-motions drudgery).   I had no idea it was going to be holy.  Wow.  If you expect holy, could be disappointed.  If you live holy, you live like MONO do on stage, because if there is one thing I will take from this it's that doing something half-assed isn't worth doing it at all.  Do what you love, or even better, love what you do, whatever it is.  If you give it all, you are going to be rewarded spiritually or in some other way.  Don't waste your time faking it for the Man or killing yourself with monotony.  GO LIVE, and live powerfully.  MONO might do a lot of build-build-climax-refrain in their songs, but imagine having cathartic movie moments 8 or 9 times in one night!  That's what they do every day on tour!  

There's an interview with Taka that Nikki did the following night (even mentions my name a couple times.  FUN!)  Watch the interview and some of their songs here.

Nadja - Live

A much-anticipated show, and I almost forgot to go.  I was busy playing with the family at our neighborhood block party, performing in the yearly gong show with Everest, drinking a La Fin du Monde.  I knew going into it that after a full day (soccer game included) it might be hard to muster up the energy to pull this off.  But it's Nadja.  They're heavy, but oh so chill.

Before seeing them I knew it was going to be a pretty lax show.  If you've ever heard a Nadja record  you know what you're in for.  Dense maelstroms of distorted guitars and alien effects all swirling and shimmery as a sloooooow, plodding drum beat pounds you into oblivion.  Metalgaze?  Ugh, horrible term.  Nadja are interesting because, even though Aidan Baker and Leah Buckaroff have refined their musical style to the point where they have many imitators, they never seem satisfied.  They releases so many albums (about one every two months on average) on different labels and in different formats it's probably hard even for them to keep up with what they've made.  And that's the straight-ahead attitude I've come to enjoy about a lot of my favorite artists.  Sure I love Tool, and I appreciate the fact that they take five years to craft their records.  But Aidan Baker seems to press the record  button, like, every week, and something good comes of it.

More proud than anything just to support these artists, I stepped into the Rickshaw Theater dressed as a dapper dan.  Fedora.  Overcoat.  Mexican wedding shirt.  This theater is very new, quite cavernous in size, especially when about 40 people come to a show.  Forty ain't bad, considering it was only announced a couple weeks prior.  I always wonder about the people who attend obscure shows like this.  Would I want to hang out with them?  I'd probably rather hang out with Aidan and Leah.  They are both fairly short and have understated personalities, I would learn after the show.

Nadja are not a big show.  They have visuals, which were humongous on top of the tall back wall.  They were really pretty, getting more colorful and complex as they played.  Aidan plays a guitar and a suitcase.  All his pedals and tubes and effects are stored inside this pudgy luggage that he sits atop a table.  Leah, meanwhile, plays her bass with her back to the audience.  I usually find this annoying, but it's probably a focus issue.  Nadja's music isn't so much "Let's do this together, audience" but more "Here is what we do" so it doesn't matter if you interact with the crowd.  

Most of the songs they played were from an album called "The Bungled and the Botched" which was released a couple years ago, very limited, on CD.  This year they released it more widely on vinyl.  I honestly didn't care for the songs, on the whole. There was one where they both were using violin bows to make their guitars creeeaaak and shimmer.  It was highly atmospheric, all kinds of sounds fluttering about.  While the plod was kickin', the drum machine didn't sound all that good.  A painful reminder that a live drummer would just be so much better.  There was even a drum kit on stage, and I still don't know why.  No one used it.  Such a tease.  

A lot of it was improvised amidst the general structure they had laid out.  Aidan, turns out, is a really good guitar player.  He was sometimes really wailing with his synthetic effects turned to the max, and was completely buried within the melee of sound.  Pretty cool.  Nadja go up there and do their thing.  Not really an ounce of showmanship between them.  They are not Sunn O))) with the robes and the lights.  It's two regular people conjuring massive sound via small means.  It's just great to see it happen, for once.  I wasn't blown away.  It was what I expected.  The best part was sitting on top of one of the bass-heavy speakers right in front of the stage, Leah's rippling low end massaging my spine.   But then I couldn't really hear much else.  So I had to move around, and depending on where I stood, things sounded quite different.  

After the show I chatted with Aidan and Leah as their albums sold like hotcakes.  I was determined to find out if they drink alcohol.  For my review of Under the Jaguar Sun I was hoping their answer was "no" because that would explain how they output so much music.  You gotta be organized!  I got my answer when someone came up to Leah and asked if he could buy her a drink as part of a trade for an album.  She said "Sour Goose on the rocks" like a pro.  I inquired further, and Leah said "Yeah, we love to drink."  Laughs.  Oh, I think.  Not that I think less of you, but how am I going to spin my writing now??  Dammit!  

Down Review-From Here, For Anyone

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet

This EP brings to mind Plaid, a couple of producers who can write some pretty energetic, synthetic gems and totally captivate the human heart.  Down Review are trying to do this, but so far their first attempt runs more like a televised parade where everything goes according to plan.  There are no unexpected turns or anomalies in their world.  It's all very safe, making the nostalgic plateau they strive for seem a bit overzealous.  Compared to groups like the Abbasi Brothers, who play like children within their songs, Down Review are a bit stiff with their first EP, right down to the plain title.  One can imagine that given the broader scope of a full album, they might stretch their legs, take off their boots and let loose a bit.

Wooden Shjips - Phish phans beware

On a whjim I went to see this psych band from San Francisco.  Ok, it was more than a whim, but not by much.  I really hadn't listened to them ever, but they came highly recommended from Aquarius Records, down in S.F. and aside from being highly supportive of their local scene, AQ have amazing taste in music.  They are a big reason I am so knowledgeable now.

After some depressing Sunday Night Football, I took my intoxicated self a few streets away over to the Anza Club.  It took me at least ten minutes upon entering the quaint gymnasium-esque room to realize that the ambient music was being played by actual people.  They were on the floor, not the stage.  Ok.  The next band was local act Von Bingen, whose bassist is also Magneticring.  The bassist is my neighbor, Josh.  Julia and I often hear manic and groovy business coming out of his garage across the street, so it was great to be pleasantly surprised by an actual performance.  And wow, he's got a great bass synth sound going, feeding his axe through a pretty bulky analog something-or-other.  I wonder what his BC Hydro electric bill is like.  

Wooden Shjips are no-nonsense GROOVE.  Like, i mean, get in it, will you?! If I wasn't feeling as pedestrian and voyeuristic that evening, I would have been dancing up a storm so fierce that flowers would have bloomed in a crown over my hippie head.  It's not furious music, no, this is psychedelic rock to the core.  Simplistic drum beats and consistent bass riffs that hardly ever change supporting the mutational synthscape and the fuzz guitar wizard.  Oh, and vocals so echoey they sound like you are at one end of an abandoned airport and someone makes an announcement at the other end.  You get lost in this stuff, which means:  Very hard to play, despite the apparent simplicity.  You have to be focused or else you get lost.  And if you're lost the audience sure is, too.  One psych rock mis-step = the end of your psyching career!  

I am amazed, then, by drummers in bands like this.  How do they motivate?  Perhaps this drummer trances out, which is highly possible, and the best explanation.  The challenge comes not from the technical aspect, but in the stamina and focus department.  Bassist, too.  He rarely changes things up.  That is the nature of a jam band.  

Outside the club, I overheard some people talking about how this was the third straight Shjips show they had seen, this one the best show so far.  They were following Wooden Shjips, like they were Phish or the Dead.  Once you groove you can't stop, right?  If they get you once you just gotta get that groove back.  I was content to imagine my groove.  I moved a little bit, but it was pretty tame movement.  Very anglo of me.  Not next time, though.  Next time I will park my bike at home, and I will arrive at the show in a VW van wearing bell bottoms, sporting wizard's sleeves and a beard.  

Yeah, these guys are good.  Not usually my cup of tea, but definitely good.  Total worshjippable band.  And yet, unless you're in the mood, pretty bland to watch play.  Aging hippie types, unable to stop the groove.  Still recommended for dancing.

Kings of Leon - Why?

A friend of mine recently asked the question, "Why?" Referring to the Kings of Leon, who recently played TWO sold out shows at BC Place stadium here in Vancouver, he just didn't understand how or when they got that huge. I had no idea either. I remember hearing of them back in 2003 or something, but to fill a stadium twice as the headliner not too many years later just seemed insane. I thought they were going to go the way of Kasabian.

After watching this video, I now see that they appeal to dumbfuck america. And they're not dumb guys. They just dumb it down. They LOVE alcohol, the drug of the depressed and obedient. They sing about pretty basic stuff, and more than anything, they embrace the "rock star" persona, the untouchable partyers. Perhaps the true reason they made it over any other similar band is the fact that they are all related. Three brothers and a cousin? America loves those odds! The Jonas Brothers are right there with you. And Hanson, we remember, failed but not without all that label support dragging its tailpipes over the setting sun's horizon. Kings of Leon are quintessential splendor and excess. They are average dudes who live the american dream, sinning and jamming into the public eye. Plus, everyone believes they're Christian. That's a bonus.

So fucking fake. Bands like this get "Grammy's" while awesome artists, as we know, stick to the shadows. Let them dunk their shiny gold statues in the Hennesey; They can have it. They're average, and everyone can see that. It's not like they write all their songs. This type of music just reeks of male-dominator culture. It's in the details. The overt details. The priveleged attitude. The zero risk music. I've gone on too long. Why am I writing about these fuckers? I just can't sleep is all. I hope Kings of Leon can look the other way and not send one of their think tank people over to drop an insidious comment about changing my attitude toward shitty mainstream powers, like the Muzak drone did. (Look for that below)

Simon looks like Aidan Baker

I was listening to Nadja's newest release the other day, Under The Jaguar Sun, when it struck me that Aidan Baker, the man behind the music, looks a heck of a lot like my friend Simon. In comparing them, I see the differences, but the similarities outweigh the discrepancies. In fact, if you put some black rimmed glasses on Drea and cut her hair, she might pass as Leah Buckareff, the bassist in Nadja.

Nadja is playing in Vancouver on October 3rd, which happens to be right around when I will be reviewing Under The Jaguar Sun for the Silent Ballet. Woa, spoiler alert! The album is a double album, and the intent is to synch the two discs, playing them simultaneously. Two halves, good on their own, making up an even more impressive behemoth when combined. Kind of like a lasting relationship, like Simon and Drea have. Or like the one I have. I don't know about Aidan and Leah, but they're probably buddies at the least.

So my thoughts were that Simon and Drea could BE Nadja, if they wanted to behave dubiously. Both have metal and outsider music backgrounds, and could totally talk the part out. Drea would have to go to the thrift store and make uneducated choices to pull this off. At the very least, they could be Aidan and Leah's stunt doubles when they have to sneak out the back of the Rickshaw Theater, escaping the crushing love of their adoring fans. It's a parallel universe waiting to be capitalized on! And hell, while they're at it, they might as well perform as Nadja. It's not like playing their songs is HARD or anything. Just press play and be spooky, right? RIGHT? Heh. Maybe not, but Simon and Drea got skills, yo. They could be Nadja, pick up right where the old players left off in case they died in a freak ferry accident.

Sample this awesome double album here. Or better yet, go here to stream the whole thing. See? You can learn their songs for FREE and then BE Nadja, performing wherever you want. With all the material that Baker releases, he needs more versions of himself to please fans everywhere. "Nadja" is just "Aidan" in reverse, by the way, and I think "Nomisaerd" is just as cool a name.

I can't wait to see these people play, and then pretend that my friends just played, drop my TSB credentials, get all 67 Nadja releases for free, and go home amazed at my confidence and choice in shoegaze metal friends. This is gonna rule.

Throbbing Gristle - The Third Mind Movements

Read my entire review on The Silent Ballet.

The album would be a fitting soundtrack to a person locked in a musty, basement laundry room while having a quiet psychedelic experience. Sometimes the music sounds like an insect colony with indigestion, focusing on all the intimate, oily details. The wide array of sounds often leans toward the uncomfortably organic, with plenty of synth burps, pulses that sound like heartbeats, and wet mammals drooling and running amok. It's not exactly the most soothing of experiences, as it provokes a surly latitude of the unconscious mind. Much like a chance encounter with a decomposing corpse, the terror comes from your own inability to turn away. Some of the sounds are very kitsch and the drowning vocals can make a purist wretch, but the overall industrial tide pool of activity is an interesting ambient affair for a group that is notorious for doing just about anything.

*Note: I have never researched an album/band this much. I knew nothing about TG beforehand...

Muzak Bankruptcy

In February 2009, the company who brings us quality canned "radio" channels like Tropical Breezes (Caribbean Music), Moodscapes (New Age Instrumental) and Cashmere (Adult Contemporary) filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. They were more than $450 million in debt. When I heard about this, I probably thought what just about everyone was thinking: Shoulda sold that shit to Ted Nugent when you had the chance, bitches!

Actually, my first reaction was "There is a god." Or something like that. Maybe Western Civilization wasn't so doomed after all. If Obama can call Kanye a "jackass" and be totally legit, and Muzak can die a quick death we might be able to turn this thing around.

But it turns out that Muzak actually was doing all right, and has twice as much collateral this month of September as they did in the Spring. With hot shot debt lawyers on their side, they expect to make a full recovery. No!! Back in 1989 Ted Nugent offered to buy the company for $10 million and promised to shut it down. His public bid to do this turned this old American company from Norman Rockwell-esque paltry nothings to everything despicable about the music industry. It was rotten, and it's a big reason why we all fire up the torches when we hear Muzak's name. That and its purposely low standards when it comes to music.

So, it looks like god is again looking the other way, because Muzak ain't going anywhere and Kanye still sells Platinum records. But since He is looking the other way, maybe we should just target the EchoStar VII at 119 degrees west longitude up in orbit. This is the satellite that broadcasts all of Muzak's channels. Taking out a satellite is certainly not good for a bankrupt company.