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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
The Band We Will Be Blindly Judging This Week:
The Library is on Fire
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.
I interviewed Matt Friedberger, 1/2 of the Fiery Furnaces, for the Onion here.
As he talked about their new album, Matt also told me that they covered songs on I’m Going Away based on fans’ descriptions and reactions to the album. It’s now released as Take Me Round Again, and is available for streaming here.
Matt Friedberger of the Fiery Furnaces, on fandom and memory: “We feel obligated as a rock band to have things for fans to do, besides listen, so they’re not passive. And obviously that’s a fake thing, because fans are never passive. You’re always re-imagining [a song] whether you notice it or not, on your own end. Fans are re-imagining music all the time, otherwise how could you like all this crap that you like? You’ll find something to like, just make it up in your own head.”
The Fiery Furnaces play in Bembang cities on these dates:
We Can Tell How Good A Band Is Without Listening to Them! Probably not. But we’re going to try. Last Friday we blindly chose a band off of Last.FM’s “Hype List”. We will now judge (from 1 to 10) how good a band is based soley on their name and photo. Tomorrow, we’ll actually listen to their music to see how wrong/right we were.
(Joining us is L.A.-via-Milwaukee’s Adam Lovinus )
The Band We Are Blindly Judging Today:
Mercedes Sosa
Alright, now we will look at a few pictures of the band….
(after seeing photos) Brian: Wow. I’m humbled. Not only is M.S. not a band, but an older lady who, apparently has been around forever based on the photos I looked at. It also appears she is playing one of those stand-up tambourine/drums. She may actually be an authentic latina folk singer! Good for her. My rating bumps up one to 8, because I respect my elders… and Spanish. Rating: 8 (7+1).
(after seeing photos) Lille: Well, she’s an old lady. And she could be mind-blowing like Manu Chao, or she could be boring, like most ethnic folk music that plays in my grandma’s Lincoln. Or, she could ACTUALLY be my grandma. Rating: ? (?+ possible genetic relationship).
(after seeing photos) Adam: Good heavens! She looks like Antony Hegarty. The uglier an artist is, the more authentic he/she/it seems to me. Typically. So this suggests she’s authentic-core <enter strain of Latin music here>. Good for plus-two. Rating: 7 (5+2).
On Wednesday, we will actually listen to her music, and update our opinions of mystery artist, Mercedes Sosa.
It occurs to everyone that listens to music… It happens when you’re scanning the paper to see what shows are going on, or when your you’re reading your nephew’s band’s liner notes:
You Can Tell How Good A Band Is Without Listening to Them! But is this true? We are here to test it out. We have blindly chosen three bands off of Last.FM’s “Hype List”. We will now judge (from 1 to 10) how good a band is based soley on their name. We will then look at their pictures, decide further if that changes our opinion. And then, finally, we’ll actually listen to their music to see how wrong/right we were.
(Joining us is L.A.-via-Milwaukee’s Adam Lovinus )
The Band We Will Be Blindly Judging Today:
Mercedes Sosa
Lille: There was a drain cleaner brand called Liquid Sosa that we used in college to clean our sinks instead of throwing garbage out. That’s what this band name reminds me of. Like a Mercedes Benz going down the drain. I get the impression that the lead singer of this band fell in love with a girl named Mercedes and stalked her outside her apartment for months and sent her paintings about the Iraq war. And that they play haunting goth music. Rating ?
Brian: The words “Mercedes” and “Sosa” immediately make me think of the douches that inhabit Wrigleyville. I get the impression that this band is either global-beat, or wants people to think they are ( a-la Brazilian Girls who are neither Brazilian, nor girls). I’m going to give them a 7. I’d like to support global beat music, if it turns out it’s five crackers doing slowcore on Moogs, I’ll be very disappointed. Rating: 7
Adam: Either a poppy, faux world-beat starlet a la Nelly Furtado, or a luxury automobile that runs on ethanol and steroids. The name-alone rating is a 5. Neither clever nor annoying.Rating: 5
On Monday, we will look at photos and update our increasingly superficial opinions of mystery band, Mercedes Sosa.
After reading about Lille and Araceli’s favorite love songs, I realized I was in trouble. Despite a healthy amount of loves, most of them fizzle before I have been properly introduced — failing to reach the apex of significant songwriting territory by a longshot. Not to be outdone, there are songs which I most-certainly attribute to romance, or, at least what I would interpret love to be in that particular era.
1992: Love is A Capella
I distinctly remember junior high gym dances being awkward in every way. Kids both obsessed and terrified of the opposite sex… and also sweaty from playing pick-up basketball in between dances. All I know is that slow-dances, complete with bad cologne and flat-bottom woven ties, were always made better by Boys II Men. Aside from that Motown/Philly gold, I was particularly fond of Shai’s “If I Ever Fall In Love “. I remember being outraged when I saw their video on MTV and it was the instrumental reprise! WTF. Acapella 4 Life, yo.
1997: Love is Swing-Techno-Ska
People do stuff for people they like. But, when you’re an impressionable teen, you don’t pretend to like stuff that a girl is interested in, you actually will yourself to like it. For real. This is the only reason I can come up with for me to dive headfirst into bands that included (but are not limited to) The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies, Underworld, and Less Than Jake… in the same year. Not that they were all terrible bands (I actually still like Underworld), but the only reason I can explain jumping from my favorite musicians in Junior High (Peter Gabriel’s US, and whatever was played on party radio B96) into Prodigy’s Fat of the Land would have to be girls.
2002: Love is a concept
Everything is difficult. The older people get, the more complicated they like to think life is. It’s like history class. When you’re 6, love is candygrams and the Civil War freed the slaves. When you’re 15, love is pure infatuation — ever-forgiving and evergreen — while the Civil War was the result of tension between the Industrial North and Agricultural South. When you’re older than 22 you have decided that the more you know, the more you’re aware of what you don’t know.
Love is all Conor Oberst talking about a mirror, or a girl (or a dream or something) and we are aware that the Civil War is called “The War of Northern Aggression” in the South, Northerners had no real interest in abolishing slavery, and Abe Lincoln temporarily disbanded congress and may or maynot have been bisexual. Here’s a song about Jeff Tweedy doing the dishes, or touring Japan, or drug addiction, or an aquarium.
To Recap: Drink Up Buttercup was fan-fucking-tastic. If you missed them on Saturday, you’ll have to catch them when they come back our way post-CMJ, though they’ll most certainly be filling a much larger venue than their Ronny’s gig last weekend.
It was stellar. A loose, pop-inflected, bedraggled, harmonious cacophony of a show. If there was ever a band that exemplified the need for universal health care, it’s D.U.B.. They’re erratic, they’re thrashing, they self-affectedly fall all over each other, they dispose of their instruments by dropping them on the floor, and the quartet (who all quit their jobs to tour) will almost certainly injure each other eventually. Obama! We need a public option!
My pal Pegs took some swell photos. One of which is above, a few more below. You get the idea.
