Hey Hipster!

Three Year Hiatus

2010-12-27T13:08:00.000-08:00

After a three year hiatus I will return to doing this blog. After a while it just became a big difficult to keep up with all of the shows that I had been attending. I amassed notes and notes about performances, after a while it became overwhelming to write a review. At first it was a little pile of thoughts which turned into a mountain of words and time.

Perhaps new posts will pertain to subjects than just local shows, but the aim will pretty much remain the same.

FEBRUARY 18, 2008: RUMSPRINGA @ PEHRSPACE

2008-03-06T21:21:00.000-08:00

Over the last few years blues has made a comeback, most notably with Black Keys and The Whites Stripes, among others. But Rumspringa is taking the blues even further back to that of Mississippi John Hurt and John Lee Hooker. One of the best things about Rumspringa is their unforgiving way of bringing back authentic blues.

At the beginning of their set Pehrspace, they handed out tambourines and maracas to the audience. I personally appreciated the hippiesh egalitarian gesture; it also helped spread out the sound through the crowd, even though the drummer's huge twenty-eight inch sunburst bass drum carries its own respective presence. Once the music started the audience's percussion came in along to add a small spice to the intimate affair of a forty person room.

His appearance was contradictory when compared to that of his emulated bluesmen, but the sound!
The singer often sang along to the guitar melody. The low howling voice, swinging drums, and rolling guitars made the blackberry and velcro wallet next to the bass drum seem like items from the future that had not yet been invented. It seemed instead as though we were in some speak-easy: drinking from flasks, smoking cigarettes, and screaming at our lung's content for the music to "Keep going!" The force of the music made people roll and sing and troll, side to side; women with seemingly tempestuous faces tapped their feet and rattled their hips.

In order to make up for only having two people, the guitarist used a looping pedal. Amazingly, the drummer managed to keep perfect time. "It's tricky," he explained after the show; "You have to really pay attention to what's going on [with the guitar loop]." But it worked incredibly well in this case; a shinning example came at the climax of the show where the guitarist joined in with the percussion that seemed all too lonely during the show. Needless to say, everyone screamed in joy to the all to short spectacle.

After the show, I swayed from side to side, but not because of the music or the aftermath of ringing ears; I was pissed drunk from all the booze (I finished a flask with the help some swigs from people around me). But I would not have drank all the liquor if I was not having fun. The show was great; be warned however, the music on their myspace does not sound the way they sound live, so do not be discouraged.

They are playing at Spaceland on March 31st and tell your friends around Brooklyn to go their show at the Music Hall of Williamsburg on April 18th.

FEBRUARY 11, 2008: BAD DUDES @ THE SMELL

2008-02-25T16:14:00.000-08:00

Over the last few years, prog-rock has made a comeback; not prog-rock in the Dream Theater sort of way, instead, a prog-rock based around punks who grew tired of the limitations of pure punk. These punks also like jazz, early heavy metal, and playing Nintendo. I present you, Bad Dudes.

According to Eben (my partner on the podcast), the Bad Dudes was an NES game, that was like Ninja Gaiden, but no as good. I never played Ninja Gaiden or the Bad Dudes, but the band of the same name has some pretty cool albums (which I discovered after their show) and they play a good live set. Luckily, the band does not take their name too seriously either. During the set the drummer addressed any false perception of arrogance due to the name. The name is "oxymoronic", and no one really believes it, [especially] if you have the attitude like Michael Jackson calling his album, Bad and song by the same."

Like many of the new progressive bands, these guys have a synth player. There's a dash of of Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, with Nintendo synths, and jazz syncopations dropped in to provide another dimension. Luckily, the band is musically very tight. All the musicians are technically proficient, each with his own style on stage. The guitar players stood and fed off the other to produce complex melodic lines made from simple twisting scales, a confident drummer moved every limb rapidly and efficiently to complete unpredictable jazz-like syncopations. Then, the bass to the side swaying around to his own flowing seemingly disassociated with the beat, but really nailing every note. And the keyboard player in the side minding the millions of buttons on his keyboard racks not really moving his body but only presenting the manifestations of his fingers. The one factor they all had in common was their aloofness to the audience, which I didn't mind all that much because their performance was so damn tight.

The Bad Dudes' set was a great handling of the progressive space where sudden noises can coincide with futuristic pentatonic melodies. Loud noise sections lively at first transformed into millions of small little sound pixels from each instrument coming at a seizurous pace with perfect coherency. However, all is presented in a musically peppy manner.

These guys are definitely worth checking out. I really enjoyed their time of controlled raucous. Among other shows, they are going to be at the Knitting Factory on March 21st (I hate the Knitting Factory, but I might just go for these guys) and at the Smell on May 25th. Check out their myspace.

P.S. WILL POST A PHOTO SOON OF THE BAD DUDES SHOW AT THE RESPECTIVE SHOW. TRYING TO FINISH ABOUT 8 OTHER REVIEWS.

FEBRUARY 21, 2008: THE PUKERS @ THE SMELL

2008-02-25T11:48:00.000-08:00

I went into the Smell dripping from the evening rain. I had watched a couple of bands beforehand who I normally would not listen to while driving in my car, but still, I enjoyed their sets. Here, I had The Pukers at hand. Fuck, the name says it all.

I'm usually open to the avant-guard thrash performance deal, though up front I will let you know, it does not appeal to me very much. Yet, I can appreciate a good performance; I've seen shows by Aids Will Kill and Ima Gymnast (otherwise known as Ima Fucking Gymnast at the time that I saw them) and I understood what was disguised in chaos during the sets. But I couldn't extract the same meaning from The Pukers set.

Dadist attempts, if even on a subconscious level, will fail if the novelty of the stunt has faded. There's nothing to see when the singer is flailing up and down to the ground yelling like the demon in the "Come to Daddy" video by Apex Twin. In this case nothing The Pukers did was really all that interesting either performance-wise or musically. During the entirety of the set, I thought: Ok, drummer's kit sounds like crap with the worn heads and cracked cymbals, the paint is peeling by the foot on the bass drum, the singer is screaming while childishly fucking around with pedals on the ground, you guys are defying the musical status quo, the band name is indicative of the sound, you're DIY...I get it! It's been done! Though, the band itself doesn't get it.

They carried themselves with a certain aloofness in regards to the rest of the room during the set, which then became contagious among those watching. I really didn't care about their show; I didn't get up from the couch to take a photo until their first announcement that the set would end with the following song. Most of the people had left after their first one.

Sure there was a play on dynamics and improvisation with this thrash band, however, they did a piss poor job at it. One of the beauties of improvisation is a certain relationship between the parts, but neither of them seemed to play off the other. I could have easily yelled and screamed while another band was setting up in the main room and I would have gotten the exact same reaction. I know, it's sort of a fallacy to make this sort of argument: but I really don't give a shit.

I'm not sure exactly what the point of the performance was: to be ironic? to shock? Because they failed at both. Irony is passe and shock is a gem that only comes by every 20 years. Maybe they would be more adept with something along the lines of Merda d'artista?

Consensus: No point in staying if they go on while you're at a show. It's a good time for a cigarette.

FEBRUARY 7, 2008: TWEAK BIRD @ SILVERLAKE LOUNGE

2008-02-10T22:08:00.000-08:00

I arrived at the Silverlake Lounge early - too early, 9:15 pm, and paid thirteen bucks to get in. At first I thought, "What the fuck? It's usually eight." Still I ponied up the cash; I figure I'd be more bored at home having my parents nag at me. The cash was worth the mere spectacle.

At first sight, the guitarist's speaker boxes were massive (15"x4, one bass, one guitar, for those who care). An initial sense of classic guitar player gluttony came to mind. The combination theremin and lamp atop each of the black cabinets, the guitar with a coffee colored plaid pick-guard, complete with huge spectacles on a thin boyish face provided a perfect retro-hip look. The drummer was of a similar disposition, except he attempted to reach the grandeur of John Bonham with a simply large Ludwig drum kit and crash six feet into the sky.

Through their hipster exterior, the raucous sounds of which one would hear of Zeppelin and Queens of the Stone Age poured out with the melodic sensibilities of the White Stripes. The set begun with the guitarist standing directly in front of his speakers to produce the the most horrendous low frequency feedback one could possibly stand, but that made the melodic thunder that came in replacement better. This is not to say that the music would not have been rockin' otherwise - it just gave a nice contrast. Like the aforementioned bands, Tweak Bird, Caleb and Ashton Bird, take one back to the heaviness of rock we love and put it into the nice little two piece package.

Despite the two man lineup, they managed a certain weight that makes a heavier sound than a guitar and a bass player would normally have with a whole bunch of stupid effects. In part, the timbre comes from an unorthodox setup of very thick strings usually reserved as the higher strings on a bass placed as the thickest strings on his guitar. A certain effect occurred when mixed with precise Harley engine of a drummer coming on the other end. Luckily the pair had a stage presence to accompany their playing.

With each song, each downbeat, the body pulsations become more apparent. The movements of each coincided perfectly with the flow of the music. No move was too brash, nothing was out of place: not even the drummer pulling out a small Casio-like children's keyboard to do a 2 minute solo while still managing to keep some sort of percussion moving or the guitarist opening the magical boundaries of the spooky theremin by coming within proximity of the mysterious instruments. Unfortunately, I was in the bathroom while the Casio solo was happening; at first it sounded as though the guitarist was reaching a new level by soloing like Randy Rhoads, but it was the drummer pressing individual keys as fast as could - still a pretty cool sound.

The crowd and I loved it. The whole time we were rocking out; even a couple of middle aged love birds who inadvertently walked in thinking it was Friday (usually no shows at this venue), not Thursday hipster haven. Yet, they seemed pleasantly surprised as they bobbed their heads. So, check these guys out at their upcoming shows at the Mountain Bar in Chinatown (02/29/08).

Hey Hipster! Read and post this blog on your bulletin!!!

2008-02-08T11:44:00.000-08:00

Ok. Here's the deal. I looked around what Google would give me regarding local shows in LA. There are sites, but I don't care to know about widely known bands playing shows at The El Rey, Music Box, etc. Thirty dollars for a ticket don't exist in my bank account right now, and I don't want to drink the water from the bathroom sink at the show. I'd rather go to the Smell for five bucks, and run down to Spring Avenue to get drunk at Jalisco's with the middle-aged bar tender with a comical love for snake movies and carries a sailor's demeanor.

I fancy quaint places with smaller body counts: The Smell, Bordello, Silverlake Lounge, The Cobalt (yeah, I said it. The Cobalt), etc... Places like Spaceland are probably at the threshold of my small Anthropophobia. The divisions between the main room and the smoke room in the upper terrace provide a welcomed break.

From these places come incredibly talented bands which you should see, listen, and buy their pretty little 7" vinyls which are pleasures to listen to while reading your MySpace comments, blogs, messages, friend's status, other's top 8 list...sorry for the rant; these bands include, but not limited to: Abe Vigoda , Tweak Bird, My Summer Darling, Love Grenades, etc...etc...

However, I will say not all the reviews will be good. I will rip into bands every once in a while when I go to a crappy show. And I go to a lot of shows: 2-4 a week. I'm a pretty nice guy, sort of passive in a way, but occasionally there is a band so horribly memorable that makes my keyboard cry for mercy.

The podcast will be recorded this weekend in guerrilla style. Hopefully, we'll get it done for Monday, perhaps as late as Wednesday. I will post an announcement upon initial posting.

Until the next time.

Hey Hipster! Stop checking people's status on MySpace and go to a show or something.

Cheers,
Sal