My deadlines took over. Again.
Posted: July 26th, 2011 | Author: admin | Filed under: Uncategorized | 1 Comment »Will this count in the 30-day Blog thingey as #2?
Will this count in the 30-day Blog thingey as #2?
I’ve been thinking of writing a children’s book about my dad’s art for Jah, the same way Picasso has children’s books, or Seurat does. Also a decent biography. Why can’t I figure out how to work Wikipedia? Bah. Does this count as entry 1?

It’s remarkable, and not coincidental, that both modern music’s most sincerely analog and most ruthless binary outputs escaped from of the same town. Motown’s multi-track walls of sound (and the soul therein) quickly relented to a deliberate, ruthless 4/4 404. Both sounds are now universally celebrated, while the town itself remains a gimmie punchline.
This is where Matthew Dear grew up. Matthew Dear; Ghostly International label upstarter, he of many monikers, and of remix royalty, has a new self-titled record called Black City.
It is dark. From the production, to the lyrics, to the album art, it is dark. Dark, in most circles, means bad. It connotes violence, gloom, the unknown, and moral decay. But also know that “dark”, as in dark bars, dark corners, and darkened windows, are just as likely to be agents of visceral (vice?) pleasure as they are menace.
This album shifts and seethes. It is unsettled, uneven, but a trip worth taking. It’s rife with warped and distended vocal cuts and samples — mostly Dear himself — double-tracking a low register and high register to haunting, disparate effectiveness.
Despite applying his birth name to this LP as opposed to his many pseudonyms (False, Audion, Jabberjaw), the album does not seem to mine Dear’s personal experience for lyrical content — at least not directly. It has narrative qualities but, save for the beautiful sunrise closing track “Gem,” our Black City tour guide pretty much keeps the guise of a cold-blooded kraut rocker or a club posturer for most of the midnight ride.
It’s especially evident in “You Put a Smell on Me” going all Biggie Smalls on us, talking game about big black cars and little red nightgowns. Dear oozes lines backed by hiccuping blips and organ. This moody, funky, plodding swagger actually succeeds earlier in the album with mid-tempo standout, “Slowdance”. In what sounds like a club track whose vocals, rhythm, and kit are slowed to a sexy trudge, Dear’s lines are slack, rhythmic, and effortlessly laid over a thick slice of distended synth and drum snare fill.
The centerpiece of the album is the title-referencing “Little People (Black City)” which is not so much a song as three movements – all a nod to D-town techno past. It starts as a fairly typical, albeit catchy, club track — not anthemic enough to be a dance floor standout, but it wasn’t intended to be one. A sole, tinny cowbell settles in, echoing over atmospherics and synthetic strings as Dear deftly transitions (as DJ/Producers are prone) to looped vocal clatter as the track segues into a second song section. With a vaguely tribal vocal pattern refrain, Dear’s content here is, as with most disco/techno, embellishment. As the repetition of “Love me like a clown” falls into an abyss of noise — a blackhole of noise swallowing the track — what appears on the other side is a ghostly disco vocal chorus with echo-canyon funk guitar that deftly slips into a hypnotic mix.
So what does it all mean? What prompts a musician with a wealth of A.K.A.’s to use his birth name when releasing a new album? It infers, accurately or not, that this album is a reflection themselves. Is that statement sincere? Ask Robert Allen Zimmerman. Is it affectation? Reggie Kenneth Dwight might know. Is it branding? Stefani Germanotta has a thought.
But what is here, if it’s not directly personal, are some motifs – acknowledgments of humanity — that sit obscured behind technology (in this case a drum sequencer). There’s monkeyness here, and tribalness … brooding and braggadocio … reality and drugs … bacchanalian nights and modern living. It’s a swath of murky content with a warm human core that rhythm always provides.
Black City drops on 8/17 and you can get some free MP3 at his site here.
Yeah yeah, so we’ve been busy and neglected Bembang, what with the holidays, moving, trips to Rome and Amsterdam (Brian), Taiwan and the Philippines (Lille), Chicago and Mexico (Araceli). But even from the remotest mountain in Baguio I have time to post the just-announced Coachella lineup. I’m not super excited about the lineup, but Sunday seems doable. See you guys there?
FRIDAY APRIL 16: Jay-Z, LCD Soundsystem, Them Crooked Vultures, Vampire Weekend, Deadmau5, Public Image Limited, The Specials, Grizzly Bear, Passion Pit, Echo and the Bunnymen, Benny Benassi, Fever Ray, Grace Jones, She & Him, Erol Alkan, The Avett Brothers, Calle 13, The Whitest Boy Alive, The Cribs, La Roux, Yeasayer, Lucero, DJ Lance Rock, The Dillinger Escape Plan, Proxy, Ra Ra Riot, Deer Tick, Wolfgang Gartner, Aeroplane, Iglu & Hartly, Sleigh Bells, P.O.S., Baroness, Hockey, Little Dragon, White Rabbits, Wale, Kate Miller-Heidke, As Tall as Lions, Jets Overhead, Alana Grace, Pablo Hassan.
SATURDAY, APRIL 17: Muse, Faith No More, Tiësto, MGMT, David Guetta, The Dead Weather, Hot Chip, Devo, Coheed and Cambria, Kaskade, 2Many DJ’s, Major Lazer, Dirty Projectors, Gossip, Z-Trip, The xx, John Waters, Les Claypool, The Raveonettes, Mew, Sia, Camera Obscura, Tokyo Police Club, Porcupine Tree, Old Crow Medicine Show, Aterciopalados, Bassnectar, Frightened Rabbit, Dirty South, Flying Lotus, Corinne Bailey Rae, Pretty Lights, Shooter Jennings, RX Bandits, The Almighty Defenders, Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros, Craze & Klever, Zoe, The Temper Trap, Portugal. The Man, Band of Skulls, Girls, Beach House, Steel Train, Frank Turner.
SUNDAY, APRIL 18: Gorillaz, Pavement, Thom Yorke????, Phoenix, Orbital, Spoon, Sly and the Family Stone, De La Soul, Julian Casablancas, Plastikman, Gary Numan, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Sunny Day Real Estate, Yo La Tengo, MUTEMATH, Deerhunter, Infected Mushroom, Club 75, Matt & Kim, The Big Pink, Gil Scott-Heron, King Khan and the Shrines, Florence and the Machine, Yann Tiersen, Little Boots, Miike Snow, Talvin Singh, Ceu, B.o.B., Babasonicos, Owen Pallett, The Glitch Mob, Mayer Hawthorne, Local Natives, Rusko, The Middle East, Hadouken!, The Soft Pack, Kevin Devine, Paparazzi, Delphic, One EskimO.
Tickets for COACHELLA go on sale Friday, January 22 at 10 a.m. at all Ticketmaster locations and www.coachella.com. Three-day weekend passes are $269, plus surcharges. More details on layaway, camping options and up-to-the minute information, can be found at www.coachella.com.
I interviewed Billy Martin, the percussionist of Medeski, Martin and Wood, for The Onion. Read the interview here. MMW will be in Chicago tonight, and all over California in February.
“Amber Gris” Music Video from Medeski Martin and Wood on Vimeo.
Here’s an outtake from the interview:
Lille/The AV Club: Why is the series called Radiolarians?
Billy Martin: The images all over the packaging are actual Radiolarians [drawn by 18th century scientist German biologist Ernst Haeckel]. To us the drawings are architectural forms that we related to our music in an abstract way, evolution and life. We always use that word [evolution] as how we like keep going with our music. We like to evolve, and that’s what our creativity is about.
Tour Dates:
Saturday, Nov. 21, 9:30 PM, House of Blues, Chicago, 312-923-2000 http://www.houseofblues.com/venues/clubvenues/chic
Thursday, Feb. 18, 9 p.m., The El Rey, Los Angeles (323) 936-6400 http://www.theelrey.com/

When I imagine what a fuck buttons is, I picture the experiment in which scientists rigged a rats’ brain to emit doses of serotonin every time it hit a button. As to be expected, the rat continuously hit the bar — over-and-over again — foregoing all food and drink for a quick-fix brain orgasm endlessly until it died. So, what would a band like this sound like? Probably somewhere between Abba and Junior Senior.
But UK’s Fuck Buttons (Benjamin John Power and Andrew Hung) do not sound like that, at all. Not anywhere near it. It’s more likely someone pointed out to Benjamin or Andrew that they missed a button on their shirt, and his straight-faced reply was “fuck buttons”. This disregard, or at least challenge, of the “norm” sounds closer to what could be FB’s sonic approach.
Their sound is one of static, overdrive guitar layers, and distorted vocals out of which gasps of harmony and rhythm emerge. In 2008, F.B. unleashed Street Horrrsing to near universal critical acclaim — an unlikely feat for a six track, 49-minute endurance test whose first discernible beat begins after the 30-min mark. The coarse fuzz was dotted with keyboard peaks, tribal polyrhythms, indecipherable chanting and contorted screams — no one was sure what they were getting at, but were enjoying the trip.

The first discernible beat on their Sophomore album, Tarot Sport, enters at about 1:30 on the first track “Surf Solar”, followed quickly by a club worthy cut-up female vocal sample. So… the Fuck Buttons can throw a change-up as well as a screwball. It’s a pleasant surprise though; an apt introduction to the more accessible, more immediately pleasurable follow-up LP.
The highlight is the LP’s centerpiece, “Olympians”, whose gradiosity should soundtrack a slow-motion marathon montage. Clocking in at nearly 11 min, the track itself is a rewarding endurance challenge. Closing the album is equally epic “Flight of the Feathered Serpent” with drum machines, keyboards, and Zinner-like guitar squall creating what a mounts to an exultant sonic victory lap after an intriguing two year 15-track output.
While the first album felt more organically distorted, the Fuck Buttons’ more electronic approach this time around still reaches for a familiar goal; transcendence through pattern and repetition. Tarot Sport will be a different experience if you loved with their debut, but there is nothing you can really get upset about here. The base materials are still there — distortion, rhythm, synth – it’s just in a more structured form.
Imagine taking a weighty, imposing piece of abstract art and dividing into a more-manageable triptych. Arguably, the new form could make for an equally enjoyably aesthetic experience (perhaps even moreso), but those enamored with the original may still cry foul.
11.21.2009 Chicago, The Empty Bottle
11.27.2009 New York, The Market Hotel
I interviewed Peaches for The Onion here. In the interview she talks about Lady Gaga possibly ripping her off, and fans who try to touch her inapporpriately, however that goes for Peaches. Tonight she’s going to be in Chicago! Next week it will be Los Angeles. Here’s an outtake from the interview:
Lille/The AV Club: Most of the reviews of this tour talk about the high level of energy.
Peaches: It’s just something that I do, actually. I have an entertainment disease (laughs). I just think if you’re nervous and you hold it back if you’re doing a live show, it takes more energy [then letting it all out]. I think I’m on top of my game in my live show and my music. Right now I have a full band, costumes, homemade lasers.
11.20.2009 Chicago, Metro - Smart Bar
11.28.2009 Los Angeles, The Wiltern

We Can Tell How Good A Band Is Without Listening to Them!
On Tuesday we blindly picked a band to unfairly judge based on things aside from their music. Today we look at photos of the band but still refuse to listen to their music.


Araceli: They don’t look like complete dirt bags, but I’m only stating that because I’ve become immune to that look: dark rimmed glasses (got a pair), fingerless gloves (got those too), “messy hair” (yup), sedated-eyes, with a shimmer of malnourishment (check). All of these characteristics are equivalent to a typical hipster, my counterparts. Though on behalf of of the Library Is On Fire, I’d like to add that anyone under 40 who is an “artist” doesn’t have any other option but to wear rags and look greasy––doing otherwise takes too much effort, and we all know that our generation lacks motivation, but I digress. Rating: 6
Lille: As a collective the band looks a little bit like a team of janitors. Maybe that’s why they’re called Library on Fire. Maybe they were bibliotheque custodians who set books on fire. And then they have to expose their photos in weird manners, or wear white paint to camouflage themselves and not get caught by the authorities. For some reason these photos REALLY REALLY REALLY make me want to listen to their music. Not. Rating: 3
Brian: Okay, well. The first pic they look inoffensive enough (wait… is the guy on the left wearing a janitor jumpsuit?). But THEN the second pic, egads, there are so many cliches going on. I see two questionable hats, a suitcoat-over-blazer, wayfarers, skinny jeans, and Pumas. Not to mention, the photo’s colors are inverted. Here, let me un-invert the image…

not so cool anymore right? Hipstah Pleeez. My Rating: 4
On Friday, we will actually listen to the music and give ‘em a fair shot.
BURNS PLAYS THE CONGRESS THEATER THIS FRIDAY 11/20.
In the club world, getting your song remixed by Fred Falke is the equivalent of Jesus himself descending on your warehouse party and licking your eyeball in appreciation of good electro.
Such is the honor bestowed on BURNS, who’s track “First Move” off of the Tecknique EP, received the Falke-First-Ask-Questions-Later treatment earlier this year. BURNS is doubly-blessed by touring with Deadmau5, whose reputation for killer beats was substantial enough to draw Lollapaloozers away from Sunday night headliners this year to the consistently impressive DJ Tent.
But BURNS himself is no Extenze — that is, all hype with questionable results — he has a killer feel for club music. He deftly swaps genres with a turgid middle-finger to dance label snobs. “Tecknique” starts the EP with loops you’d expect from a Matthew Dear track, while the bass and obligatory femme vocal sample fit it squarely in modern House. Two tracks later “In My Eyes” illuminates its thumps with enough funky clips and cuts that make you think he threw his turntables out the window and bought a laptop… because he wanted to make something real.
MP3: “Teknique” - BURNS
MP3: “First Move” - BURNS (Fred Falke Remix)

It occurs to everyone that listens to music… It happens when you’re scanning the paper to see who’s playing next weekend or when co-workers give you their demo CDs…
You Can Tell How Good A Band Is Without Listening to Them!
But is this true? We are here to test it out. Araceli has chosen a band that all three of us have not heard of. We will proceed to rate the band (1-10) based on their name alone. We’ll get a look at the band, and then eventually actually judge their music.
Lille: Where is this band from? It sounds like a name picked out of a hat, like it’s forced. That, or someone has a hatred of books and a love of fire. Since I love books AND fire, that’s one out of two. It sounds like this could be a teenage emo band that will be forgotten like my favorite band of 2005 (the Futureheads, anyone?). Rating : er, 3
Araceli: I have no idea where this band is from, a friend from Chicago suggested them, so perhaps Brian will have some inkling on these folks. Obviously this band is trying to ride the Arcade Fire wave. In order to have a supposed “cool” demeanor, they intentionally chose to burn a sacred establishment. Why can’t they burn a liquor store? 7Eleven on Fire? Now that sounds promising. I think they’re trying to build on the lit crowd and cater to the bookish types of Brooklyn. I find this marketing scheme repulsive.
Perhaps they appreciated Kings of Leon’s “Sex On Fire” phrasing, as to say “damn, that girl is hot, she’s on fire!” Again, fronting on the intellectual realm: that library is smokin’! my rating: 4
Brian: While I’m relieved the band had the restraint not to add an exclamation to the end of their name, I’m with Araceli on this one — conjuring images of our temples of learning set afire is a pretty high precedent for rock music. Does their sound topple the towers of rockness that we’ve built up in the last 75 years? Do they deconstruct what it is to be a rock band? Probably not. I believe the last popular anarchic band was actually Chumbawumba. My Rating: 4
On Thursday, we will look at photos and update our increasingly superficial opinions of mystery band, The Library is on Fire.