autumn is a terrific season

i love new york, but it's no place to enjoy autumn, which is a major bummer, because it's my favorite season, and a terrific one, and this rambling introduction is brought to you by these are powers, because it was their terrific seasons that prompted me into writing this post.

i've been working on staten island lately, and my call went very late tonight, so i didn't get home until nearly 4 am. i napped on the ferry (sleeping through half of begin to hope), but didn't want to sleep through a 1 train, so i started thinking about all the shit i need to review. i've got the black angels show from wednesday, the mount eerie show from thursday, i've been preparing my full all hour cymbals review - suffice to say, it was enough to keep me awake. and as i sketched out some ideas for the yeasayer post, "no need to worry" on repeat on my headphones, i gradually woke up. so by the time i get home at 4, i know i'm gonna a little too mentally jazzed to collapse into bed. so what did i find on my desk? terrific seasons, you guessed it!

you will remember these are powers as the thermals' opener at warsaw last week - i really enjoyed their frenetic sound, which i've since learned is referred to as "ghost punk." honestly, it sounds better than "neo-psychedelic sludge rock," which is how i heard the black angels described the other day, though i'm at a total loss as to what it means. anyway, i got in contact with the band, who offered to send me a review copy of terrific seasons, an offer i readily accepted, despite my claim that it was "probably not something i could stand in my headphones for more than 90 seconds." also, who doesn't love packages?

though not unexpected, it was amazing to find the album when i did. i'm going on 24 hours without sleep, and finding a package cheered me up (and woke me up). intrigued by their cover art and best label name ever (more on that in a moment), i popped the cd in and waited. my expectations of them were already shaped by their live show (and the video of "you come with nothing" that i took), and what i expected to come out of the speakers didn't, not in the slightest.

aside: interestingly/disappointingly, the label that these are powers claims to have released terrific seasons on could possibly not exist. in two places, the inside cover and the cd itself, these are powers credit the album to pre teens of the himalayas (i am not lying. i couldn't make up something that good.). click the link. okay, you get the problem? what if pre teens of the himalayas doesnt' exist? these are powers, i hope you're not fucking with me. the back cover of the album credits hoss records, as does their myspace (and hoss records themselves), so you lead me to conclude you are fucking with me. no joke, i did a doubletake and laughed out loud, in my empty house at 4.30 am. i hope pre teens of the himalayas are real.

after that aside, i know you all have one question: what the fuck is ghost punk? (sorry for all the cursing. i'm getting cranky from lack of sleep, but goshdarnit, i'm finishing this post!) i still have no idea what ghost punk is. but here are some names that will give you a frame of reference:
at the drive-in (lots!)
sleater-kinney
fugazi
old school sonic youth
since these are powers' bassist used to play with liars, maybe they sound like liars? i never got into them, so i don't know...
anyway, tons of great stuff.

so, i'm really tired now, and you'll have to entertain yourself with these two mp3s below. these are powers play death by audio in two weeks with clipd beaks. there's a bitching poster on their myspace.

these are powers - "you come with nothing" & "shells for a dead chief"

the thermals @ warsaw, 11/1/07

by their own count, this was the thermals' sixth show in new york this year, and my first ever chance to see them. i, along with a lot of other people, might hate on pitchfork, but i'm mammoth enough to admit that the only reason i ever would've heard of the thermals is because the body, the blood, the machine was rated so highly by the site. it took me a little while to understand why, because all i heard at first was rather simple punk melodies and well-enunciated lyrics about christofascism. though i eventually became deeply immersed in the thermals' music, especially the guitar solo in "here's your future," the only solo on the album, hutch harris's talk-sung fables about a christian totalitarianism remain to be the body, the blood, the machine's most compelling feature. despite their staggering number of new york appearances this year ("more than portland," [the thermals' hometown] according to harris), it seemed that many in the crowd were in the same boat as i - first time thermals viewing. my expectations were average - i didn't think the thermals were going to move worlds, but i wanted to check them out and do some dancing (since halloween was a bust for moves).

it was a loud one at warsaw last night, and an exhausting one to boot. covered in sweat, my feet, so willing to jump and bounce a few minutes earlier, felt like lead as i staggered back to the L. i stared into space, zombie-like, yawned frequently, and reflected on the great night of blistering noise and excellent pit dancing i had just participated in.

up until the show, i had no idea who was performing with the thermals; warsaw's website only obstinately said "special guests," so it wasn't until i scoped out the merch table that i knew what to expect. first openers reporter also hail from portland, or. , and play a brand of lo-fi post-punk punk similar to the thermals, so they made sense as an opener. though i only caught a few songs from their set, reporter is straightforward, almost to the point of being predictable, though very listenable as well. vocal duties were split between the female bassist and male guitarist, though the award for reporter's best stage presence goes to their drummer, whose abundant energy and passion was far more interesting than reporter's songs. also, i was very impressed that he managed to keep his glasses on.

reporter - "blaze"

i discovered during the set break that these are powers were the next opener, a discovery that quite pleased me. these are powers are a band i've heard a lot of blog press about, but never looked into them, and i was excited to get a taste here.

these are powers are loud. really loud. they've christened themselves heralds of "ghost punk," which i know about as much about as you. i think their music occasionally had some dancey elements, and frontlady anna barie was certainly jumping around like we were supposed to be dancing, or at least moving, but i, along with everyone else, spent most of the set staring with not a little bewilderment at the stage, before inevitably feeling their persistent rhythms. driven by pat noecker's heavily fuzzed-out bass and bill salas's bizarre percussion (including a kit, a drum machine, and a suitcase possibly filled with xylophones), these are powers' sound is greater than the sum of its parts, thanks to noecker's army of pedals. whether songs included barie on guitar or not, they were often powerful and pulsating with energy, dense cacophonies that included a lot more joy than similar efforts by their noise-rock peers. these are powers were excited about what they were playing, and their enthusiasm was massively engaging. acolytes at the altar of noise, these are powers nonetheless had a humorous side, joking about being from "brookcago" and "pierogies filled with love" (warsaw, nestled in polish greenpoint and an extension of the polish national home, serves pierogies at all of their shows, giving the venue its slogan, "where pierogies meet punk"). for the last song in their set, barie handed out noisemakers to the front row, and then jumped into the crowd with the mic, twitching and shaking among us, possessed by some barely satiated demon of noise. though probably not something i could stand in my headphones for longer than, say, 90 seconds, these are powers are definitely enjoyable live, when you let the floor-shaking sound seize you.

these are powers - "little sisters of beijing"

"you come with nothing"

hutch harris, the thermals' frontman, managed to pen an entire album about the omnipresent danger of america becoming a christofascist empire, yet looks like the all-american boy. clean-cut, wholesome, dressed in a tucked-in flannel shirt and spotless cowboy hat, harris looked more like an assistant at a southern men's clothes emporium than an erstwhile socio-religious critic. his starched look was indicative of the thermals' stage show, which was very plain, especially after these are powers' exuberance. harris and bassist kathy foster had some head-to-head rock moments, but, by and large, the thermals just played their music, and let us excite ourselves.

by the end of opening song "returning to the fold," a dance pit had formed in front of the stage. it would not dissipate until the thermals encored with a note-for-note cover of built to spill's "big dipper," a song not known for its pumping-up ability. in between the two, as the thermals played insouciantly, churning through nearly all of the body, the blood, the machine, the energy in the pit built to a climax, until warsaw's over-excited security guards tried to yank dancers out. the thermals didn't add or subtract anything from their live performance, and it was the crowd that made the show good, recklessly smashing into each other and dancing maniacally. the thermals played songs from more parts per million and fuckin a, though it was their newer songs that earned the greatest applause. they ended with a crushing "a pillar of salt," encored with three covers, and let us go, sweaty and exhausted, into the night.

the thermals - "here's your future (live on kexp)"

buy thermals stuff at sub pop.

"an ear for baby"