the twilight sad @ cabaret voltaire, 9/4/07

what could it possibly be about glasgow that leads to its musically inclined youth to wave the moody banner of post-rock gloom? who knows, but those glaswegians certainly love their post-rock. two of the greatest post-rock bands around hail from that rainy city on the west coast, and the twilight sad are making their bid to become the third. well-known in the united states, thanks to ever-diligent bloggers, the twilight sad are still mostly unknown at home, despite the critical success of their full length debut, fourteen autumns and fifteen winters. therefore, it was surprising that they sold cabaret voltaire nearly to capacity earlier this week, which prompted lead singer james graham to remark that he was shocked so many people had shown up. unfazed by the crowd, the twilight sad aurally assaulted us for nearly fifty minutes without an encore, and it says something that they didn't need one.

if you've never been to cabaret voltaire (a fair bet), there are a few things you should know about it. first of all, it's a cellar. cramped, squat, and ill-designed to be a rock club, cab vol still enjoys some of the best shows from breakout artists passing through edinburgh. second of all, it's fucking deafening. studio b at least has an excuse for the volume; it's built to hold about four times as many people. cabaret voltaire just wants to make your ears bleed. hoping to leave without tinnitus, tearknee and i stuffed tissue paper in our ears, but we still heard the noise, loud and clear. the main downside of the volume (besides the damage) was that it blurred our senses - we were unable to distinguish instruments from noise.

the twilight sad is currently on tour around britain with frightened rabbit, fellow glaswegians who follow a little more in the steps of that other famous glasgow band, though they make sure to spice up their sound with a bit of that post-rock goodness, as befits any decent fatcat signee. though the volume ruined any possible nuances in the frightened rabbit sound, their straightforward, two-guitar-and-no-bass misery pop was rewarding and honest (and very scottish). the pop cop has an in-depth interview with scott and grant hutchison, the songwriter and drummer respectively, which showcases frightened rabbit's desire to write cheerful pop ditties with abject lyrics. they made some noise down at sxsw earlier this year, and are steadily growing as a band, with news about their fat cat debut and several festival appearances (including connect) fueling the flame. their appearance tuesday night certainly caught my attention. while they could do little to break the semi-circle of space uncertain crowds give to unknown bands, they played with visible energy and enthusiasm.

frightened rabbit's recorded songs rely heavily on sound layering, but they stuck to their guitars (eschewing keyboards, among other studio instruments) for the live act with no audible downside - if anything, their rawer sound was more appealing in such a small space. grant's drumming was distinct without being overpowering, seamlessly alternating between broad, intense swathes of melody and broody, introspective verses as his brother whispered and wailed into the mic. frightened rabbit sounded good, though blistering noise disguises all evils. they did their job well, though any opener in that cramped cellar suffers, and frightened rabbit were no exception. in a slightly larger space, or at least one with a better modulated volume, frightened rabbit could have easily won the room over. as it was, they showed promise and room for growth, and fatcat's re-release of their debut, sings the greys, should whet a number of appetites.

my main reason for checking the twilight sad out was to verify all the hype they've been generating, since the long-circulating mp3 of "that summer, at home i had become the invisible boy" hadn't really piqued my interest. their live show, however, had the most basic element missing from their record - volume. unlike frightened rabbit, the twilight sad was well served by the soundman's propensity for painful loudness, bringing their climaxes to ecstatic heights and dramatically highlighting the serenity of their more progressive moments. the volume did, however, have the side effect of burying graham's verses to the point of being nearly indistinguishable, so that his voice became an instrument and less of a counterpoint. musically, the songs were nearly exactly like their studio takes, with perfectly timed crescendos and orchestrated walls of sound - only once did the drummer have to face off with guitarist andy macfarlane to syncopate their next aural assault. however, there was an energy to their songs that the album lacks, a sort of recklessness that only comes with a live show that proves the twilight sad have more depth than fourteen autumns and fifteen winters displays.

as with all good post-rock bands, the twilight sad deal with polar opposites, and the effect that audible extremes have on the hearer. it says a great deal about the twilight sad that they can keep an audience's attention during the quiet bits, something even mogwai had a problem with at connect. graham's voice was laid bare during these sections, unsheltered by his bandmates' sweeping soundscapes, his thick accent contributing to its appeal. it is rare for accents to come across so strongly when sung, and, though graham's may have the flavor of the deliberate, it is still captivating and alluring. though he may be the speaking face of the twilight sad, it is not his voice that drives their songs - it merely adds to them. andy macfarlane, the twilight sad's guitarist, is clearly the mover and shaker in the band. he, with the rest of the band, remained stoic and unemotional during the gig, but his guitar clearly did his speaking. armed with at least eight different pedals, macfarlane launched ruinous waves of sound at us, sandwhiched between gentle melodies and epic distortion.

in retrospect, it seems odd that "that summer, at home..." was picked as fourteen autumns's first single, since, of all the songs the twilight sad played, it seemed to be one of the most lifeless. "and she would darken the memory," another 7", was much more violent and dramatic - on the whole, a better song. i would've paid a lot more attention to the twilight sad a long time ago if i'd heard that song first, with its anxious entrance and crushing conclusion. but even if i got to the party late, i'm glad i see the twilight sad's potential, even if it is clearest during their live performance. a bit of advice to the aspiring scotsmen - find a less polished producer next time. your sound needs more space to punish our ears, and fourteen autumns is much too restrained to do you justice.

see more twilight sad and frightened rabbit videos at my youtube page.

frightened rabbit - buy the single be less rude when it comes out on sept. 24 from fatcat, where you can stream it right now.

the twilight sad - buy fourteen autumns and fifteen winters from fatcat.

"and she would darken the memory"


"i'm taking the train home" (set closer)

connect - sunday, 9/2/07

i needed four cups of tea to feel even remotely human sunday morning, as the mud and the stench of inveraray irrevocably became part of me, and i realized the cuffs of my carhartts weighed more than the rest of the fabric put together, just from the mud that was wetly wedged inside. previously, i had made the foolhardy decision to go without rubber boots (or "wellies," as the brits affectionately call them), and my shoes are still caked with mud, sitting in my hallway. fields that had been lush and green on friday were muddy minefields, and, bereft of insulating rubber goodness, i had to carefully pick my way through millions of boot treads en route to every stage. final numbers for connect show that over 16,000 tickets were sold, and at least three-quarters of that were to campers, so the festival was pretty damn packed. and while connect did have some pitfalls and blunders, for a first year festival, it was pleasantly arranged, well-apportioned (especially in the food department), and enjoyed the rare virtue of absolutely stunning surroundings, as befits the estate of the 13th duke of argyll. but we'll leave any talk about connect's grounds to our grounds post later this week. on to music!

the day opened, oddly enough, with patrick wolf, who had just come from electric picnic (along with about half of connect's lineup), playing a very early set at 12.45 (see nialler9 for electric picnic reviews). i've come to realize festivals can be funny things, with bands flying in and out for just a few songs, playing at most arbitrary times for no discernible reason. such must have been the case with patrick wolf, who was popular enough to make thousands rise from their sleeping bags for his half-hour time slot. he told the heaving crowd that he and his band were running on four hour's sleep, and warned us in advance that this show would be less frantic and exuberant than it regularly is. despite this handicap, wolf put on a lovely, sweet show, playing six songs, nearly all off the magic position. clad in a tartan blanket (more for fashion than protection), wolf's showmanship was muted - a concession, no doubt, to his lack of sleep and the earliness of the hour, but his performance was spot-on, and much too short.

we stuck around at the oyster stage for seasick steve, an american bluesman who now calls norway home, and enjoys much popularity on this side of the atlantic. virtually unknown in the united states, seasick attracted an even larger crowd than wolf, who charmed us with his homespun drawl, busted guitars, and mammoth beard. his past is littered with mishaps and adventures kerouac would be jealous of, including several stints as a busker. located in oakland at the beginning of the 1990s, seasick steve opened a recording studio that was visited by modest mouse, twice, to record their first albums. he released his solo debut dog house blues last year here in the uk, but he hasn't found a home in the us yet, sadly. his set was raucous and gritty, with more cursing than i heard from all the other acts put together, and dank, old-timey blues, the like of which we haven't heard since tommy johnson. no surprise to learn, then, that steve was taught guitar by one of johnson's bandmates. rocking out on three- and one-stringed guitars, as well as his "mississippi drum machine," a foot-operated thumping box. he told stories as well as sang songs, an all-around entertainer, who deserves a label in america and some well-earned respect.

we were so taken with seasick steve's set that we stayed until the end, then headed over to see the kissaway trail, the much-hyped danish sensation. with reviewers like nme making references to the flaming lips and arcade fire, we had high expectations. tearknee had seen them before and had liked them, but i found the comparisons, especially to the flaming lips, to be quite overstated. to be sure, songs like their single "smother + evil = hurt" are wide and expansive, but they rather miss out on the lips's joyousness. i don't know if the world needs another arcade fire soundalike, but check them out if that's your thing. it's not mine.

tilly & the wall were up next, and we stuck around mostly because tearknee was so taken with the idea of tap dancing percussion. their kitsch value had worn off for me about a minute and a half into bottoms of barrels, their sophomore effort released last year on moshi moshi, but there was nothing more exciting going on, so i tried to be as open-minded about their brand of folk pop as possible. when it was all said and sung, i was actually more impressed than tearknee - i thought their live show had much more relevance than their over-cutesy recordings - she, a former tap dancer herself, was woefully dismayed by tilly & the wall's dancer, who seemed to be merely a beginner (her tapping can be called basic at best). and while i enjoyed their frenetic indie folk, their enthusiasm and joy (and the fact that they are from the midwest), reminded me a little too much of overzealous young christians, proselytizing through music. on the other hand, their propensity to scream "fuck" at random intervals hints at a darker side to tilly & the wall. regardless, their performance was well-rehearsed, energetic, and, on the whole, fun. i don't like their music enough to want to see them again, but they were good entertainment in the middle of the afternoon.

after tilly, we hustled back to the oyster stage for the anti-folk princess, regina spektor. i had never heard her music before, and i will be the first to admit i don't actually know what anti-folk means, but wikipedia supplies this somewhat bulky definition: "in anti-folk, self-mockery and self-aggrandizement have somehow fused," which doesn't actually explain all that much. there wasn't much "self" in spektor's songs, but plenty of mockery. her song structures bend to her whim more than any conventional approach, an endearing and attractive (as well as unique) sound in contemporary songwriting. the crowd went wild as she strolled out on stage in her flower-print wellies and green dress, and barely stopped yelling their enthusiasm even in the middle of songs. performing songs from both soviet kitsch and begin to hope, spektor charmed the crowd on her grand piano and guitar, and her set ended far too soon. a lovely performer and innovative songwriter, she was one of my favo(u)rite discoveries at connect, to whom i will pay much more attention to in the future.

festivals have a way of really taking it out of you, whether from the incessant standing, indeterminable weather, or simple music overload. tearknee and i suffered serious fatigue after regina spektor, so we took a pass on m.i.a. (whom neither of us really care for anyway) to grab some food from the lovely circuses and bread tent, which featured only argyll produce. our next stop, then, was back to the guitars and other machines stage for the polyphonic spree, for whom i had deservedly high expectations after their epic performance at warsaw earlier this summer.

of all of the bands around these days, so many of which are truly amazing, the polyphonic spree are really in a class by themselves. even as absurdly large groups are becoming the fashion du jour, the 'spree remain unique both in their size and approach - two dozen members, including a choir, two keyboardists, and two drummers, playing music so exuberant in its recital that you can't help but leave their show feeling emotionally rejuvenated. even after three long days of standing and listening to music, the polyphonic spree filled me with a new energy and joyfulness. their performance was much as it had been at warsaw, though greatly condensed, yet it still came as a surprise when they launched into "the championship," their outro anthem, with ten minutes left in their time slot. my initial fear, that they would be as fickle as the hold steady were the day before, was ameliorated when they burst back on to the stage, clad in their white robes, to launch into the closest they could get to an encore, nirvana's "lithium" and "light and day." tearknee and i left their show filled with an indescribable happiness and optimism, the likes of which i have rarely before experienced. a polyphonic spree gig is good enough to be a once-in-a-lifetime event, yet the fact that they tour frequently should be cause for much rejoicing. imbuing their performances with an unparalleled level of sheer wonder and plain ecstasy, the polyphonic spree are simply one of the best live acts around today.

we walked away from the guitars and other machines stage for the last time in a fog of joy, on our way to the oyster stage for the rest of björk's set. this in itself was another blunder by connect: björk was sunday's erstwhile headliner, yet unlike fellow headliners beastie boys and primal scream, her set would not be ending the night (and, therefore, the festival); instead, her set started at 8 pm, forcing festival-goers to choose between her and the polyphonic spree. for some, this would seem to be no decision at all, and for us it wasn't - we saw the 'spree. we rushed over to catch the last half-hour of her set, and fought our way through the crowd as she sang "army of me." backed by a dj, a percussionist, a pianist, a harpsichordist, and a ten person brass band/choir, björk was in full control of the stage, even as she ran across it, her white dress and pink shawl flowing behind her, wailing into the microphone as the bass resonated over every other sound. i'm not a big björk person, so i didn't know most of the songs, but her stage presence alone is mesmerizing. like beastie boys, she really is a professional, with well-articulated designs, entrancing costumes, and an obvious love for performing, and her show, though obviously not unique, came off without any feeling of tiredness or repetition; it seemed as fresh for her and her band as it was for us, and even if the music wasn't always to my taste, she was really a joy to watch.


the act that closed connect for us was the one that i had been most looking forward to, the man that changed my mind about dance music, inspired me to write a (mostly) regular feature on excellent albums, the band that immediately stood out as my first choice in the entire connect lineup: lcd soundsystem. although i have been enjoying sound of silver for months, i had not yet had an opportunity to see the man in action, and had no idea what to expect. a drum kit and a turntable at most, i thought, and so was almost floored when an entire band appeared onstage, complete with guitar, bass, upright piano, a table of electronic gadgets, a kit, along with some extra drums, and, of course, james murphy. as scruffy as ever (i wonder how irregularly he shaves, so he can always have that two-day growth...), i was surprised to see him, sans instrument - apparently, when lcd performs live, he only rocks the mic.

lcd opened with "us v them," one of my favorite bangers from sound of silver, but it was lacking something. "daft punk is playing at my house," the next song, also lacked it. tearknee and i, after much post-show consultation, worked out what it was: enthusiasm. even as the (extremely) large crowd went wild, murphy and co. seemed lackluster at the beginning of their set, due to exhaustion, boredom, or disinterest, i don't know. but it poisoned their set from the start, a hurdle almost too large to overcome - even "north american scum," the song i identify with so much i made a shirt for it, was lifeless in their hands. which is not to say the songs were poorly executed or full of mistakes - it was the banal perfection of every note that alienated it, and turned it from a performance into a recital. though still somewhat mechanical, "all my friends" and "tribulations," their next two songs, showed promise, and lcd soundsystem transformed, in front of our eyes, from mere musicians to true performers, so that, once they moved into "yeah," they were just as excited about the show as we were.

"yeah" is where lcd soundsystem's set really came alive: fantastic during the song, which stretched on into epic dimensions, but truly disappointing as it was the end of their set. i was able to take a photo of their setlist after it was over, and was really upset that they'd skipped so many songs i wanted to hear, for no reason i can guess at. in my mind, there was never any doubt about what the encore would be, and i was gratified to hear "new york i love you" echoing off the castle behind us, but it was as if james murphy had reverted to his previous, unfeeling self - his crooning, so heartbreakingly true in the studio, sounded limp out here in scotland. there's no doubt in my mind that i would see lcd soundsystem again in a heartbeat, but it would be to disprove this performance, to quell the voice in my head that worries they aren't really that good. i hope this set was a fluke, because i want lcd soundsystem to be good, really i do.

and that was it. the end of connect, three days of mud, a bit of rain, good food, good music, and sleeping on hard ground. as hot chip played until midnight (another odd scheduling mix-up there, putting lcd soundsystem and hot chip on at the same time), tearknee and i headed back to our tent, ready for bed and excited about showering the next day. for its first year, connect went off with few hitches and virtually no hang-ups, and while there were some odd (foolish?) scheduling decisions made, i suppose that's all part and parcel of a festival, having to race off in the middle of one set to catch another. for what it's worth, i had a great time, and would happily go next year as well. enjoy the videos below.

patrick wolf - "the magic position"


seasick steve - "my donny"


the kissaway trail - "smother + evil = hurt"


tilly and the wall - "rainbows in the dark"


regina spektor - "poor little rich boy"


björk - "declare independence"


lcd soundsystem - "all my friends"

some great things are going down

actually, just a few, but they're so good i need to tell you about them asap.

1. pitchfork has a brand spanking new mix from diplo. the 68-minute mix features tracks by a ton of artists i've never heard of, but some familiar names, like yeah yeah yeahs, m.i.a., bat for lashes, dj shadow, spoon, justice, and bart simpson. diplo has an upcoming north american tour with switch, which runs through nyc on october 5 at hiro ballroom. find the tracklisting and more info at the mad decent site.

2. the good, the bad, and the unknown have an impressive collection of iron & wine b-sides, rare tracks, and other songs in "his specific alphabetical nights." seventeen tracks that range from "peng! 33" from beam's itunes exclusive ep to a cover of the flaming lips' "waiting for a superman" that i didn't even know existed. totally worth checking out.

3. warped reality has five live sonic youth tracks from 1981, four years before i was born. the quality leaves something to be desired, but the sound hints at a sonic youth you would never think could create daydream nation, never mind rather ripped. complete with keyboards, yelping, and, as warped reality says, an "off-the-cuff gleefulness" that would be hard to imagine SY indulging in today.

4. regarding last night's mercury awards, even though klaxons unexpectedly took home the prize, the press still can't stop talking about amy winehouse, much to klaxons' disgust. she performed a touching acoustic version of "love is a losing game." see the video below.

amy winehouse - "love is a losing game"

it's official!

the nationwide mercury prize winner of 2007 is...

KLAXONS.

the nu-rave foursome walked away with the best album of the year award, along with £20,000, as amy winehouse slunk away, disappointed. they had not been tipped for the award (bat for lashes was the sleeper favorite), and they themselves are as shocked as all of the presenters. drunk as skunks, the ex-three piece (now performing as a four-piece) had regaled the mercury audience with "golden skans" earlier in the evening, and will no doubt be partying like rock stars for the rest of the evening. they deserve it.

congratulations, klaxons!

klaxons - "gravity's rainbow"

connect - saturday, 9/1/07

disclaimer: i would've had this published yesterday, but we lost internet in the media tent. many apologies. i hope to have sunday's review up by tomorrow, or wednesday at the latest.


saturday dawned wet and cold - at least, i assume it did, because i was sleeping at dawn. it was wet and cold when i woke up in what i've come to (not-so) affectionately think of as the smallest tent in the world, but the weather did little more than threaten until the end of the night, a glorious and climactic end to a disappointing day.



it started well, with a short set from 1990s ("no 'the' and no apostrophe!"), a glasgow band with ties to franz ferdinand. their sound is different, however, with a greater emphasis on pop melodies and wild guitar solos, and far less of a post-punk aesthetic. they enjoyed a large following in the crowd, especially considering their early time slot, and worked (and played) hard for their fans.




next up was the highly-touted bat for lashes. it was my first time seeing them, not by accident. up to this point, i hadn't been impressed with any of natasha khan's work, and her performance, despite its performative accuracy, didn't bring me any closer to liking her music. technically, bat for lashes was spot on, every note nailed, every howl, um, howled, but
i found khan's songwriting to be static and distant. from their ornate headdresses to the stick khan pounded on the stage for their last song, bat for lashes' pagan influences are obvious, suffusing khan's lyrics with holistic and gaia-esque qualities. maybe i'm a little too narrow to appreciate howling, but i felt more alienated by their set than encouraged to listen to them more.




we caught one song from vashti bunyan before heading over to the oyster stage for the hold steady. here's a picture of her. i don't know anything about her or her music, but tearknee was interested because one of her songs is currently being used in an advert for wind power, or "something good like that."



then, ah, the hold steady. i'd been boycotting their shows since boys and girls in america came out (i really really didn't like the album), but i was hoping they would break out some older songs in this set. how foolish was i. they went on stage late, apologizing for their tardiness (apparently, they'd just arrived), to much rejoicing from the crowd. fortuitously, the sun made its sole appearance of the day, adding to the crowd's excitement. this was to be my fourth hold steady show, so i believed myself well-versed in their style, but this show was both a surprise and a disappointment. first of all, they were sober. even when i saw them perform an acoustic set at river to river last summer, they had been drinking. the hold steady and booze go together like tea and milk, and, while finn sputtered and struck poses, his posturing felt hollow without a beer behind him. secondly, every song (save one) was off boys and girls. while i understand that they might prefer playing new songs, ones that they aren't so tired of, their refusal to play other songs hints at something darker. most damningly, after coming on late, they left early, more than ten minutes before their scheduled departure. after waiting for their set with bated breath, i felt let down and even cheated. unless they clean up their act on their next album, this might be the end of my relationship with the hold steady.


saturday's early evening lineup wasn't particularly attractive, and the weather was pretty shitty, so we headed back to our tent to cook up some food before returning for the beginning of mogwai's set.

it was as if god was listening in on this gig, for the rain started moments after scotland's moody guitar kings took the stage. the crowd was rabid with excitement, and the rain, which started first as a drizzle, only incensed us, bringing enthusiasm for mogwai's blistering guitar screeches to a head. the set began with some songs i couldn't place, but quickly moved into "like herod." i was astonished and very pleased, having not expected any young team material to make it into their set. they followed "like herod"'s thunder with "moses i amn't," at which point we made the very tough decision to move on to two gallants and modest mouse.

i suppose connect is allowed some leniency, as it is only it's first year, but the timing of sets has been disastrous so far. we missed nouvelle vague on friday and only caught the end of beastie boys (having to sacrifice the end of super furry animals), but saturday has been terribly mismanaged, mainly because mogwai, modest mouse, and two gallants all clashed. i know i previously said how upset i'd be if i had to chose between the hold steady and two gallants, but this scheduling blunder nearly had me in tears. of the three, i'd only seen two gallants before, opening for the decemberists two years ago, and the ferocity of their set absolutely dictated that i check them out. unfortunately, i'd also long dreamed of seeing mogwai (though i would've preferred indoors, where my ears would've had a chance to bleed appropriately), and modest mouse would be well worth my time as well. so, we went to all three, a truly shitty compromise, but one we were truly forced to make. unfortunately, this wasn't to be the end of terrible scheduling, but it was by far the worst. connect, shame on you.

we arrived just in time for two gallants' last song, the epic, ragged, "nothing to you." maybe adam stephens and tyson vogel are hurting more than they let on (stephens said "this could be the last song i ever sing"), but they played with trademark brutality to a much too small crowd, blame for which lies at connect's door for scheduling them at a terrible time, and putting them in the manicured noise tent, when they should've been rocking on one of the main stages.


a quick walk outside led us right to modest mouse, where the crowd was huge, despite the increasingly heavy rain. the picture to the right is not one of my best, but it certainly gives a good impression of the torrential downpour we suffered through, albeit gladly, as isaac brock sang himself hoarse. i'd written modest mouse off after we were dead before the ship even sank (no good), but brock, marr, and co. were really fantastic live, stomping through "tiny cities made of ashes," "float on," "satin in a coffin," and a newer song to end the set, which quickly unraveled with a meandering trumpet solo and aimless guitars. however, their intensity really surprised me, since i had been expecting something a little more mellow and forlorn (a la their albums). but modest mouse really kicked it live, even in the pouring rain, and i would not hesitate at seeing them again.

just as modest mouse's set was trumpeting to a close, the rain took its cue and petered out as well, leaving us free to catch a few songs from echo and the bunnymen (more out of curiosity than anything else) before heading over to see the end of the primal scream set. tearknee was shocked to learn that i'd never heard of them, nor any of their songs, and i'm now officially able to say that i have heard them, and some of their songs. we caught just a song or two before it all wound down, including their ancient hit "loaded," which featured a badass light show, and caused several thousand drunk britons to dance unhesitatingly. i'm not sure if i have any opinions on them or not. check the videos below.

1990s - "see you at the lights"


bat for lashes - "prescilla"


the hold steady - "party pit"


mogwai - "travel is dangerous"


two gallants - "nothing to you"


modest mouse - "satin in a coffin"


primal scream - "loaded"

connect - friday, 8/31/07

well, today has been fucking packed. tearknee and i woke early to catch the citylink bus to the festival (which wound its way through many twists and turns, upsetting more than one stomach), fought through a bitch of a crowd to get our press passes, before reaching the campsite, only to realize our borrowed tent was minuscule. but we are nothing if not resourceful, and managed to fit everything in. that was a lengthy process, so we missed the festival's first act, the up-and-coming amy macdonald. she has garnered a lot of press around these parts on the strength of her first single, "poison prince," which you can stream here. homo eclectic also has some mp3s available for download, though she's not really my cup o' tea, so missing her was no heartbreak. we heard a bit of make model on our way to the press tent, and the glasgow-based band sounded pretty good, nice and perky, a great way to open the guitars & other machines stage. we caught a few songs from trashcan sinatras before heading back to our tent for lunch/dinner, but we were not impressed. i'd heard of them, somewhere, but i hadn't realized that their brand of adult contemporary pop was so bland. there was nothing in their sound that compelled us to stay, so we took a quick break to eat.

the evening kicked off with the last few songs from the css set, and the brazilian electro-rockers lived up to the hype. i caught two videos, "i wanna be your j. lo" and their single, "let's make love and listen to death from above." the former is posted at the end of the post. i'm working on setting those up, and they, along with the myriad other movies i have/will take this weekend, will be up asap. we meandered over to the aliens, who transported us back to 1977 with their floydian jams and queenesque hair. frontman gordon anderson even had a fan in front of his mike to keep his 'do perpetually windblown. their set was really fun, especially "setting sun" and "robot man," the latter of which was marked mostly by anderson donning a visor, headlamp, and awkward helmet, and pantomiming robotness, much to the delight of the crowd. as with astronomy for dogs, the aliens' novelty wore off after a few songs, but there is no reason to deny their obvious talent, and their own enjoyment, along with the crowd's.

we then skipped over to the guitars, etc. stage to see gordon anderson's brother kenny do his thing as king creosote. a live show from the fence collective mastermind is no common thing, and he lived up to every expectation, banging out old classics like "jerusalem" and "not one bit ashamed" alongside songs from his upcoming bombshell like "you've no clue do you." well, everything he played was spot on, though he suffered a technological setback two songs into the set, a la his guitar breaking. so, he switched to the accordion for a while. his songsmithing remains to be of the highest caliber, and while his self-imposed permanent domesticity means that we won't be seeing him on the other side of the pond anytime soon, we can take comfort in the increased maturity his new songs already show.

then, the highlight of the night. tearknee went off to see a few songs from the jesus and mary chain, while i dug in for the go! team. i've been enjoying proof of youth for a few weeks now, and was very excited to see them perform. briefly, it was fucking awesome, though ninja's mic was set a little low. i took between 2 and 3 million photos, which i'm slowly editing, though here are some choice ones. they performed old favorites and new classics, from "huddle formation" and "junior kickstart" to "grip like a vice" and "fake id," and the crowd ate it up. i can't wait to see them again in september.





the go! team burned with energy, shredding and jumping all over the stage. ninja told the crowd several times about how much the team loves playing in scotland, and i think they especially enjoyed this gig, as it was on founder ian parton's birthday. so ninja sang a bit of "happy birthday" during the set-closing "ladyflash," and everyone went home happy.

after the go! team, we lost some of our momentum. we stuck around for a few songs from super furry animals (including "rings around the world" and "golden retriever"), which were nice, but rather a comedown after the insanity of the go! team. we had tried to see them in new york last summer, but that show had rained out, so it was nice to see them again, but we weren't really feeling that vibe, so we meandered over to beastie boys with mixed expectations, not on their end, but because neither of us had ever been major fans (and, to tell the truth, songs like "intergalactic" are overused to the point of being irritating). but i was really impressed by what i saw of their set, a "greatest hits" though it was. mca, ad-rock, and mike d have become very slick, in their tailored suits, and really impressed me with their professionalism. they were courteous to the crowd, energetic about their songs (even though most of them were well over a decade old), and happy to be there. i was quickly won over and got into the flow of things, saddened when their set ended two songs after we arrived. fortunately, there was an encore, opened by a short act from their dj before segueing into "intergalactic." my previous reservations about the song vanished, for they had reworked it to not sound so tired and played out. the beasties ended the night with "sabotage," and though the crowd definitely wanted more, the stage closed and the night ended (at least for the live music).

css - "i wanna be your j. lo"


the aliens - "setting sun"


king creosote - "jerusalem"


the go! team - "grip like a vice"


super furry animals - "rings around the world"


beastie boys - "dj intro > intergalactic"

pitchfork strikes out again!

since starting mr. mammoth, i've made an effort to keep my public relationship with pitchfork cordial. i mean, they were really important a few years ago, and i know i got introduced to some seriously good artists because of them (even though it took me a little while to take their opinions with more than one grain of salt). however, i really can't stay silent any longer. i think the sluts' practice of referring to them as bitchfork is more than a little puerile, but pitchfork (pitchdork?) has become so unbearably intoxicated with their self-ordained position as preacher of indiedom that the only reason to look at the site nowadays is for news. still, i do get suckered in by their reviews and the best new music section - after all, they are fucking iconic. but as of two days ago, i decided i'd had enough.

pitchfork has always taken a rather odd approach towards classifying what is the "best" of new music, arbitrarily awarding the "best" label to albums that tend to be more controversial than actually outstanding. before i learned better, i bought several albums based on pitchfork's say so, only to feel as if i wasted my money (which i had). this year's best new music list already numbers twenty-five, which doesn't include their "recommended" releases. true, lots of good albums have been released this year, but pitchfork increasingly seems unwilling to cut through their often self-generated hype and call a spade a spade (or a mediocre album a mediocre album). the newest addition to the best new music category has really been the last straw for me. maybe pitchfork is using this category like the oscars, when good actors get the award for bad movies, as a way of apologizing for not giving earlier work appropriate praise. at least, that's the only reason i can guess at for pitchfork's inclusion of caribou's new effort andorra on that list.

the man responsible for andorra's review (and BNM nod) is mark richardson, none other than pitchfork's managing editor! aside from that, i know nothing about him except that he prefers to contextualize the album, as if by namedropping other bands he can cover up the plain and simple fact that he doesn't really know anything about this album (like, for example, that it's not very good). pitchfork's reviewing m.o. seems to be that modern sound can best be described through its similarities to older music: thus, we get richardson's exhaustive list of artists caribou sounds like, in the first paragraph. yet for all of richardson's exhaustive referencing, andorra doesn't really sound like the beach boys, the mamas & papas, or the zombies. it sounds like caribou. ultimately, by opening his article with a deluge of RIYL: caribou artists, richardson proves nothing as much as his own inability to confront andorra's obvious failings, disguising this with a hollow trumpeting of caribou's current "AM radio" sound.

by no means is this richardson's only fault, yet he blunders through the article without bothering to question andorra's innate quality, or his own hypotheses. for example, he casually refers to andorra as the first time that "[caribou] seems to be paying attention to chords and melodic progression first." now, i'm not exhaustively versed in caribou's back catalog, but as a proud lover of two of his previous albums, up in flames and the milk of human kindness, i would consider myself rather familiar with his style, and if there's one thing daniel snaith (the man behind the mammal) doesn't lack for, it's melodies. his previous works have been stuffed full of melodies, from the antsy toe-tapper "lord leopard," to the joyful and climactic "bijoux," and i would go as far to say that andorra actually contains fewer snaith melodies than we've come to expect. perhaps richardson feels that one melody per song is enough - that alone explains his deep affection for the oft-repetitious andorra. but for those of us who have been keeping track of snaith's artistic (and melodic) progression, this effort seems lacking.

as a writer (and a recent college graduate), i've been known to make some fairly substantial diction errors, but the outrageous metaphor that richardson uses to open his fourth paragraph trumps even my worst ones. referencing "desiree," andorra's midpoint, richardson shares this totally arbitrary metaphor: "we know from her name that this girl might trip down the streets with the association's windy, perhaps looking for kicks or waiting for mary to come along." call me a cultural boor, but fuck me if i know what the hell he's trying to say there. come on mark, let's use some english. try this on for size: "'desiree' is, at its heart, the closest snaith comes to a stripped down soulful ballad, the antithesis of the image he has worked so hard to cultivate over his three previous album, a song so devoid of both lyrical and musical content that one usually enjoys andorra more by passing over this track (and the next one) to 'sundialing,' one of the album's best songs." a bit long, i know, but i wanted to get it all in one sentence (and you should see the length of some of the ones richardson spits out). a few sentences later, we see this gem: "then there's 'sandy' and 'irene," also [like desiree] names more likely in 2007 to belong to grandmothers." wow. mark, thank you so much for your input on trends in naming! how valuable this comment has been to my understanding and enjoyment of andorra. (i wikipediad the association; forgive me if they're familiar names in your household, but i think referencing a song that hit #7 in 1966 as common knowledge is is a TAD arrogant.) furthermore, richardson makes the baldly audacious claim that the name "desiree" automatically "dates it perfectly," as if no one named desiree could have been born after 1966 (untrue, as one of my sister's friends is named desiree, just for the record).

one reason richardson finds this album to be so delightful is because of snaith's unprecedented reliance on his own vocal cords. while i need not remind you that both up in flames and the milk of human kindness did include singing, it is true that, in andorra, snaith uses his voice in a new way - as that of a "proper" songwriter, as richardson claims. i fail to understand how caribou could have released three albums without being a songwriter - maybe richardson can only fully understand songs when they are carried by a voice - a severe failure for a music critic.

indeed, it is plain to almost any ears that andorra is a step backwards for caribou, an unwarranted, unnecessary, and unwanted change in what has otherwise been a distinguished career. while retaining some parts of his previous sound (though not as many as some would hope for), caribou has been completely overhauled, generating an album that does not seem to have logically followed the milk of human kindness in the slightest.

ironically (to my ears), what mark richardson praises the most about andorra are its biggest failures. we've already discussed the vapid "desiree," one of richardson's favorite tracks, and while we agree that "melody day" is probably andorra's best song, he feels as if "sundialing" is a misstep by snaith, a tired "return to the repetitious neu!-isms" of his last album, i believe it to be one of the few cuts on this album that actually sounds like caribou.

regardless of andorra's innate quality, mark richardson's review is pathetic. while demonstrating a complete lack of appreciation for the caribou sound, he also takes it upon himself to add illogical, arbitrary, and ridiculous addenda to most of his statements; we've already seen his comments on names like "desiree," "sandy," or "irene;" there are many richardson asides that are superior even to these. for example, here are richardson's thoughts on caribou's buoyant and joyful sound, his very hallmark since start breaking my heart: "a half-decade after the elephant 6 movement first started to fade, snaith's move can be seen as risky, but it succeeds, oddly enough, in part because of the one-man-band nature of his project." where to begin? with richardson's need to say "half-decade" instead of "five years"? or maybe his ability to disregard all of caribou's previous output of high-energy electronic joy (which is six years old, therefore pre-empting the "half-decade" of decline elephant 6 has experienced)? in fact, because richardson puts all of his references to past caribou albums in the first paragraph, it begs the question of whether or not he's listened to more than one song off each. from his glowing endorsement of andorra, it seems unlikely.

caribou - "sundialing." buy andorra here.