You needn't be too wary of the dialogue surrounding Fucked Up, Toronto's jewel of esoteric hardcore punk. The members' beliefs and their names are hidden, but they're not out to brainwash anybody. And they're certainly not hiding anything in the songwriting department: the melodies are blistering and as uninhibited as the band, which has a knack for subverting punk conventions.
"For hardcore bands especially, politics are often made out to be black-and-white," rhythm guitarist 10,000 Marbles says on the phone from Toronto. Read more »
"I never imagined doing this." It's a sentiment that Mariee Sioux, a singer-songwriter from Nevada City, returns to many times in our phone conversation: specifically, her genuine surprise that adapting her poetry to music has resulted in a life as a touring musician. "I was terrified playing at that show," she says mirthfully, describing her first big out-of-town gig at Brightblack Morning Light's Quiet Quiet Ocean Spell Festival in Big Sur. "The whole tour that followed helped me get used to performing.... Read more »
"Hey, everybody, we're all gonna get laid!" Rodney Dangerfield's character, Al Czervik, says in one of the classic lines from Caddyshack. Oakland's Replicator sample the line as the tag end of "Delicious Fornicake," the opening track of their new album, Machines Will Always Let You Down (Radio Is Down). The inclusion is telling: Caddyshack celebrates the redemption nay, triumph of the little guy, the lowly, the nobody, the nerd, the caddy, for chrissakes, despite the oppression of greedy, classist boors. Read more »
K Records founder and exBeat Happener Calvin Johnson once wrote in New York Rocker, "Rock 'n' roll is a teenage sport, meant to be played by teenagers of all ages they could be 15, 25, or 35. It all boils down to whether they've got the love in their hearts, that beautiful teenage spirit."
That sentiment still holds for the Olympia, Wash., native, who will turn 45 this November. The deep-drawling baritone is probably best known for spreading Beat Happening's jangle-pop gospel from the mid-'80s to the early '90s. Read more »
Some years after she took the City of Lights by storm, the great African American chanteuse Josephine Baker famously sang, "J'ai deux amours / Mon pays et Paris": "I have two loves / My country and Paris." For the neofolkish, introspective French singer-songwriter Keren Ann, the journey has been the opposite of Baker's.
After establishing herself with a pair of fine, well-received folk-pop albums in her native France, Keren Ann went bicontinental, establishing a base in New York City, and started recording songs in English. Read more »
Gazing disdainfully from the cover of their album Strange House (Loog), the Horrors greet listeners with the air of Edward Gorey characters on a smoke break. Together, they are a scarily beautiful organism: a slick plastic spider with 10 spindly legs and a penchant for manic, blood-soaked coffin rock. Their shows, in contrast, are short, riotous affairs that revolve around a schizoid brand of gothabilly and the shrieks and antics of lead vocalist Faris Badwan. Read more »
In high school I was a band geek. OK, not quite: I was never cool enough to make it into the inner circle of the Blackbirds Marching Band, and so odd duck that I was I'd be left flapping around on the outer margins of the football stadium bleachers while all the hilarity and revelry that a pack of gangly teenagers in polyester and feathery headgear can muster would carry on without notice of me and my forlorn little trumpet. Read more »
Anat Cohen, an Israeli-born New Yorker often found working in Latin bands, seems intent on leaving no jazz style unexplored. Whether on tenor saxophone essaying the opening melody of Cuban drummer Francisco Mela's straight-ahead "John Ramsay" from his 2006 album Melao (Ayva) or soloing on clarinet with the Brazilian Choro Ensemble, Cohen seems to intuitively absorb the musical language she's engaged in. Read more »
Whatever happened to all the cyberpunks? Once upon a Blade Runner, it looked like neo-noirists and novelists from the early 1980s were finally getting turned on to George Orwell's vision, predicting a dystopian, nightmarish future in which humans were subject to conditioning and control. Even musicians were getting it: perhaps inspired by Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music (Buddah, 1975), such artists as Suicide, Throbbing Gristle, and Pere Ubu were dabbling in a postapocalyptic music world by the close of the '70s. Read more »
What's up with all these "fuck"-ing bands of late? I'm referencing the band name phenomenon: it used to be about being "pink" this or "black" that or "wolf" or "bear" something, but it looks like our favorite four-letter word is now reaping the benefits of name-gaming fun. Read more »