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.
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.
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.
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.
After the tragic passing of John Hughes last week, Araceli suggested we all choose our favorite moment in a Hughes film. Gee Whiz. That’s a nearly impossible task when you look at the movies he’s been a part of as a writer, director or producer:
The Breakfast Club
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
Weird Science
Sixteen Candles
Home Alone
Uncle Buck
The Great Outdoors
Mr. Mom
Planes, Trains & Automobiles
National Lampoon’s: Vacation, European Vacation, and Christmas Vacation
Wow. Arthouse films they are not… but they are all classics. I’m reminded that Hughes, although he’ll be remembered for his teen comedies, filmed the era’s best comedic actors in my most favorite roles: Chevy Chase’s epic Clark Griswald in the Vacation series, Steve Martin slowly going mad in Planes, Train & Automobiles, Dan Aykroyd’s fast-talking yuppie industrialist in The Great Outdoors, and OF COURSE… the late great John Candy in, well, the two mentioned above, but especially Uncle Buck.
The amazing thing is that most of his teen movies predate my adolescence, and were already idolized by the time I had reached those teen years. John Hughes had the pulse of growing up white, awkward, and middle-class in the Chicago Suburbs. In fact, Hughes’ teen comedies were all supposed to exist in the same Chicago suburb of Shermer, Illinois. A town that lots of people fell in love with, including director Kevin Smith and his characters.
Because I couldn’t choose which of the eleventy-million Judd Nelson quotes in The Breakfast Club were my favorite, I have to go with Ferris Buelhler’s “Twist and Shout” dance scene that takesplace during some sort of workday afternoon Germanfest(?) parade in front of Mies Van Der Rhoe’s Federal Building in Chicago.
As every highschool boy’s Id, Ferris cruises into the city ditching highschool in a stolen Ferrari leaving angry authority types and innumberable montages in the dust, showing Cameron (i.e. most of the angsty, fretful, teenage viewers) how to REALLY do a sick day.
Araceli, Brian, and Lille tell you what performances to see on Friday night at Lollapalooza, or at what times you’re better off just dying than watching a crap lineup.
White Lies OR Builders and the Butchers OR The Gaslight Anthem
Araceli:Perfect time for brunch
Brian: If I went out the night before, I may as well (might) be dead at this point.
Lille: I like White Lies! Their lead singer is like a hobbit. Oh, wait, I’m thinking of White Rabbits.
Consensus: Sleep if you have to; if not, let your hangover lead the way.
Bon Iver OR Heartless Bastards
Araceli:Bon Iver, no doubt! (er, not thee no doubt, but bearded guitar man)
Brian: Heartless Bastards. I’ve heard, like, “buzz”, about them. Bon Iver is beautiful but sleeepy… sleeeeeeeeeepy
Lille: Bastards! I love both bands and have seen them both TWICE, but I’ve seen Bon Iver deliver more complete and nurturing sets. The drummer of the Heartless Bastards looks like Uncle Fester.
Consensus: 50/50 — go to the stage nearest you.
Ben Folds OR The Virgins OR Sound Tribe Sector 9
Arceli:Kill me now…
Brian: French Ennui purveyors The Virgins beat out death… but barely. (Ed. Note: They’re not French. I don”t know who I was thinking of. My bad.)
Lille: Anything BUT effin Sound Tribe Sector 9, aka the most disgusting band with the most disgusting fans on earth.
AraceliI’ve already seen the YYY’s mini-me version perform live, and I’ve heard the name: Asher Roth too many times at work to know this white boy better move out the way. I’m heading for a tranquil evening with Fleet Foxes
Brian: This is the defining show-split for Friday – You will be able to look at EACH PERSON AT LOLLAPALOOZA and know which of these three stages they will be at. I choose Crystal Castles, because I like girls that (have) bang(s).
Lille: I love Fleet Foxes but I might catch something from their dreadlocked audience…so I choose Asher Roth just to be contrarian. Even though I think his music is shite.
Consensus: Fleet Foxes (Please note, each one of us chose a different stage — unplanned! Swear to God. -BHB)
The Decemberists OR A-Trak OR Thievery Corporation
AraceliI want a nice peaceful death, so catch me at The Decemberists
Brian: ‘Cemberists. A-Trak is just doing a DJ set, and Thievery Corp.’s been at Lolla every year and I still don’t care.
Lille: I’ve been bored at too many Decemberists shows to ever want to see their pseudo-literary songs and their bowties again. I choose SLEEP.
Araceli:Of Montreal, sitting waaaayyyyyyy back from the theatrics
Brian: Of Montreal. Crazy. Ass. Stageshow. I love me some Chicag0-based Bird, but I’ve seen him a bunch of times — the smaller setting the better.
Lille: You guys are insane. Of Montreal is faker than Flaming Lips. Andrew Bird can have my babies any day.
Consensus: Of Montreal, by some fluke of bad taste
Kings of Leon OR Depeche Mode
AraceliThis is a tough one. I’ve seen them both live many times, KOL probably more cause all they ever do is tour, but damn those boys are CALIENTE, no joke. If you want to talk about stageshow, those dudes got it. Just the thought of what their latest hair-do’s has me breaking a sweat. Don’t even get me started on the chest hair. But I know by now, all the bro’s will be at KOL, so I’ll be at Depeche Mode, and catch my Los Angeles godfathers in full-force.
Brian: ‘peche-mo
Lille: DM! Of course! And this time I don’t want anyone getting an allergy attack and going to the paramedic tent during “Personal Jesus.” Hear that, Araceli?
As a little intro, we thought it’d be cool for the three of us to talk about what song we feel best fits our little towns. Araceli, for NY, has chosen the illustrious rat packer himself, Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” as a befitting jewel of a song for the Big Apple. (Does anyone call it that anymore?)
So, yeah. Araceli chose a song BY a New Yorker ABOUT a New Yorker, so now I’ll do the same for Chicago. There’s a few tempting choices:
I could easily go the Wilco route and say “Via Chicago,” but if you’re listening to that song you’ll quickly figure out it has very little to do with Chicago.
I’m a big fan of “Slow Down Chicago” by Canasta but that really doesn’t SAY that much about the city that it doesn’t say about every metropolis — it’s busy.
Gil Scott-Heron’s “Home is Where the Hatred Is,” is tough not to choose. Scott-Heron not only is a soul icon, hip-hop progenator, poet, author, and freedom fighter, but was also born in Chicago proper (though raised in Tennesse). The same song was sampled more recently by another icon raised by accomplished southside civic leaders — Kanye West’s “My Way Home” from the Late Registration LP samples it exclusively.
Paper Lace’s “The Night Chicago Died” is a hilarious song. And quite a re-telling of a riot during Al Capone’s bootlegging days… unfortunately it was written by four guys from Nottingham UK that have no idea what they’re talking about. E.G., starting the song, “Daddy was a cop / on the east side of Chicago” (Psst, the east side wold be a lake). Also adding to its Chicago lore – in the movie High Fidelity, Barry (Jack Black) adds it to his Top 5 Songs About Death: A Laura’s Dad Tribute List. He ad libs some new lyrics though… “The night Laura’s daddy died. Sha na na na na na na na na! Brother what a night it really was. Mother what a night it really… angina’s tough! Glory be!”
Though Scott-Heron would be, like, the “well-informed” one to pick, I have to go with one I’ve always loved forever and ever. That’s Aliotta, Haynes and Jeremiah’s “Lake Shore Drive”
It’s a beautiful piece of music with a wonderful shambling piano part, a road-tripping feel and some great lyrics. They lyrics not only recall some vibrant nostalgic drives, but also drops some references that show the artist was certainly familiar and fond of Chicago, even if the band was from West Allis, WI.
It was not until recently, when I heard this song again, that I realized it was also a road tripping song. AH&D may have just been using my favorite road in Cook County as a thinly-veiled drug reference… “Just slippin’ on by on LSD, Friday night trouble-bound…” is just one of the many acid references in the song , most of which are equally unclever. Regardless, it’s still a really pretty song. Enjoy! (Along with some shoddy photography):
Lilledeshan: we should have our photos beside our posts. that way brian can hook readers like araceli into raising our profile
Araceli: no way. oh you wanna be like perez?
Lilledeshan: perez hilton, musical tastemaker
Araceli: i dont want people to know what i look like…my biggest fear is being a recognizable celeb
Brian: ha. you’re fist [sic] problem is BEING a celeb
Lilledeshan: why are you guys still at work? i’m going to do my city post
after i give away this free lou barlow song
Araceli: brian, you think i cant be a celeb?
Brian: oh, you can. But you can worry about being recognized later
Araceli: damn this biy [sic] is out of contorl [sic]. look i cant even spell! thats how angry i am. haha…whateves… lille is the one that wants to be famous
Lilledeshan: ya. i keep getting pre-empted. right before i get REALLY big. some stupid shit happens
