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Arlington, VA indie label Yeah Gates is bringing a decidedly non-spooky trifecta of bands to the Black Cat this coming Sunday night—America Hearts,The Cheniers, and Foul Swoops—on the spookiest night of the year: Halloween.
Sunday's 'Spooktacular' is also the 7" release party for the Hearts and Swoops, so we wanted to be certain this show is in your bag of treats for the weekend.
We've got all three bands with us for the balance of the week sharing some truly nightmarish and horrific stories from the road in a series we're calling "Creepshows." (Because I can't think of anything funnier.)
First up, the night's headliners, America Hearts:
Mark Cisneros | A Freegan House Show We were a little freaked out upon arrival and perhaps even genuinely scared when they told us how the ingredients of the food we were in the middle of eating, was procured. The show turned into a mini-Burning Man of sorts. Body piercings, dancing and lots of skin and sweat. Like a crusty-punk Woodstock, complete with bare, muddy feet. All in the living room. The same living room in which we had to sleep later that night. Great food and homemade booze though.
Justin Moyer | Tough Times? In 2002, I played a show in Cheb, Czech Republic. Cheb is the 'Wild West' of Czech. It belonged to Germany until WWII. After the armistice, it was given to the Soviets, and everyone who could fled. Those who remained were not exactly an economic elite. We played in what's best described as a Czech roadhouse.
Inside, there was no P.A. We sang and ran drum machines through our guitar amps. We played with a punk band that did goose steps and Heil-Hitler salutes. We couldn't figure out whether this was ironic.
The promoter had just gotten released from Czech prison. He had served 7 years for possession of marijuana. We stayed at his house after the show and he grabbed our keyboardist and tried to pull his pants down. Luckily, he was handsome.
Jess Matthews | Southern Scales There was a really weird house show in Little Rock. It was the middle of the week and everyone at the party was wearing 80s glam rock face paint. The house had pet tarantulas in a tank, but some of the shells the spiders had shed were lying around looking like fully formed or crushed spiders.
Beforehand, we went to a nearby drive through beer distributor. It was a small, dingy building and it was hard to get the van around the corner to the drive up window. When we got to the window there was just a long set of fingernails coming out of a hand that was wrapping on the counter. We waited and waited. We asked for PBR, but the nails didn’t respond. When the woman finally appeared in the window she said, “I’m sorry. You know, I was just here looking at men on the Internet again.”
Mike Tasevoli | Nightmare on U Street I can't think of any gig-related spookiness, but last year I was having a re-occurring nightmare about being trapped in the Velvet Lounge for eternity.
"As we drive past the bayous and bays of the south, a lot of good tunes come to mind, as well as inspiration for new ones. Despite the fact I am on the road as I write this, my vinyl collection amasses. At the moment we are whizzing through Pensacola. Thrift stores along the way carry these priceless discs of black for less than $1, and the gum chewing, child-rearing clerks have no clue what they are parting with. They take my money and recognize me for the garbage collector that I am. I tuck them away in the truck, behind amplifiers and guitar cases, under boxes of merchandise and next to notebooks of lyrics and songs ideas. They hide there in the dark corners chatting with each other about gear and venues and chord changes. When I get home in a couple weeks we will all move into my studio apartment, and they will share a room with the other songs resting in their cardboard sleeping bags.
Just crossed into Alabama. The sound and feel of vinyl can't be beat. If a new record that I want is available in vinyl, I will buy that first. My parents had a fantastic collection of records that traveled from our living room, to the basement, to my apartment, my car, storage units, and back to my apartment over the course of my life. I still use stolen milk crates to display them, but plans are in the works. The house in the clouds that I am currently building has 500 ft. high shelves with electric lifts and a 100-album record changer. There are a million speakers like mutant fly eyes around the rooms, and they sparkle in the night when the music plays. Galactic mobiles orbiting my crib.
The sun is getting big and low now, and it’s harder to drive west. I used to work at a record store that was slowly phasing out cassettes, it’s interesting how long it takes small towns to catch on to new technology, but why hurry? The music is the same and the technology always changes. That record store is now closed. We are passing a peaceful swampy river in Mississippi. Makes me want to buy a flat bottom fishing boat and an old radio to spend the day with. The sound of radio is right up there with vinyl for me. I will unapologetically say that right now most of the music on commercial radio is empty. It’s bleached and it’s bleaching me. I am a girl about interesting sounds and lyrics, about music that is living. Music with bones and bacteria, and fungus. Music that breathes and grows with you.
Welcome to Louisiana. Besides the sound of the vinyl it’s the size. A 12" record is a piece of music meat. But I can't take it fishing or on the road, it's music for the home, for getting intimate. We just arrived in New Orleans, our destination for the evening. When it comes down to it, vinyl, CD, cassette, radio, mp3, I just love the music and the song and the voice, the medium is just the pan it’s heated up in." —Angie Mattson
It's Day #2 with our guest for the week, Diego Garcia:
The Education of Diego | Part 2: “Elefant RIP 2001-2010, Mother Fuckers, and Matisse”
The vulnerability and sincerity in a song like “Plastic Jesus” combined with my best attempt to sing led to Elefant and our debut album, Sunlight Makes Me Paranoid.
I'll never forget hearing playback of my first vocal take to “Tonight Let's Dance.”
Or getting high from the hours spent on singing “Love.”
The bridge on “Sunlight.”
The past is a blur…
22.
When I think of Elefant, this is the record I identify with the most. And for those of you who care, we have 2 more in the vault I hope eventually see the light of day.
Before moving on, I'll leave you with a video a fan made for the song “Sunlight Makes Me Paranoid” cut to the footage of one of my favorite movies in the last few years “Let The Right One In.” I guess one can say that we were ahead of our time in regards to the whole vampire thing.
I thought I would add that Bowie’sHonky Dory album as my favorite record of his… why? Because were just getting to know each other and these kind of things are important. Go and listen to “Kooks” if you have any questions.
And one cannot leave out the self titled The Stooges debut when getting to know each other…
I had a cigarette with Scott Asheton, drummer for The Stooges, a few months ago in Los Angeles. I told him how covering the Stooges got me started. His reply: “Me too.”
Back to NYC. Back to where I am now. Staring out of my bedroom window as I take a break from writing this.
This quote I saw while visiting the Matisse exhibit at the MOMA comes to mind: “When you have achieved what you want in a certain area, when you have exploited the possibilities that lie in one direction, you must, when the time comes, change course, search for something new.”
I'll get into this tomorrow, but before I go, I'll leave you with Piero’sMi Viejo.
An artist I came across on one of my many trips to Argentina.
Released in 66, I believe.
This record took my hand and led me to where I am now, the eve of my debut record as Diego Garcia…
I have to credit Jon Sidel who delivers TVD's very own free form radio show/podcast, The Idelic Hour each Friday afternoon, for putting Diego Garcia on my radar.
I had been a fan of Elefant, Diego's previous band and their Mc5 meets Bowie and Suede leanings (where 90% of my musical tastes reside.) I wasn't aware though that he'd struck out on his own and in a wholly different direction.
Diego referenced Julio Iglesias to me as a marker for his new musical trajectories which at once seemed very appropriate upon hearing the tracks and at the same time a little limiting. Perhaps in tandem with the fresh material, it's the production behind his new recordings which wraps Diego in the warm blanket of an entire era—the romantic, pop sensibilities of the 1960's to be exact.
To my ears it's somewhat similar to what The Clientele have achieved, which makes that band such a personal favorite and what has kept Diego on constant play over the past few weeks.
We'll be hanging out with Diego over the coming days here at TVD, dipping into his new music and into the bands that inform his background and tastes.
The following is my take on a quote from Tarkovsky: “The purpose of music should be to help people live, even if it sometimes causes unhappiness.”
“Peel Slowly and See,” the box set by the Velvet Underground released in September of 1995, months before my 19th birthday, should have come with the following warning: These 5 records listened to all at once will mess your brain up and you will sound like the “Velvet Underground” when you make your first record.
Add a little Bowie, the Ramones, Stooges, some Beatles, The Smiths, Stones and you pretty much start getting it…
Any relevant artist today had to have gone through at least one of these bands.
And then there are the records with songs made just for me. Records that I owned the only copy of.
1. “Plastic Jesus” from The Flaming Lips' “Transmissions from the Satellite Heart.”
Fifteen when I first heard this record. And over the years I would play it on my guitar to anyone that might listen , and no matter how wasted or high I was, it always felt good.
Chapeau Mr. Wayne Coyne. You changed my life with your cover of “Plastic Jesus.”
2. “Weird Horses” from Teenage Fanclub's “Thirteen”
Around the same time I got into the Flaming Lips, I heard the track “Weird Horses” and had the same kind of reaction. Had to learn it. Saying “fucked up” in the opening of this song was always fun… immediately drew people in…
3. “The Strange Effect” by The Kinks' “The Songs We Sang for Auntie: BBC Sessions 1964-1977”
Important to note that I recently sang this song for Karl Lagerfeld at a dinner held in his honor… why is this important? I don’t know, but singing the line “you got this strange effect on me and I like it” to Karl while wearing a chef hat should not be left out….
Check out me and Zeke Zima from my new band playing it acoustically poolside in Miami a few months ago. Please note the mistake I make on the guitar at the 1:09 mark.
Goes to show a good song is really hard to mess up. Simplicity is key.
Maybe it was part of the discovery, or the vulnerable nature of the recordings that made these songs so special to me.
CMJ (and New York City for that matter) being what they are by nature—a whirl—forestalled Kitten's final day with us last week. But fear thee not, Chloe and the band tie it all up in a fine bow - today:
Hey TVD,
Chloe here again, couldn't bear to read another blog entry written by Chris with all his coffee references..what is this, baristas hour? Just kidding, he buys me coffee almost every dreadful morning and is probably going kick my ass when he reads this.
Anyways, I say dreadful but other than some rough mornings, this has really been amazing week, yesterday being one of the highlights.
I nearly peed my pants because I realized we were playing a show on the world famous Ludlow St. (see Julian Casablanca's "On Ludlow St...") we rolled on into Arlene's grocery and played a solid show. We felt good about it and, more importantly, got a great reaction from the crowd and promoters.
I said it before and I'll say it again. As soon as I'm 18, it's NY for me. I'd move here now but a few pesky little things like school and are parents getting in the way of a full on East Coast adventure. It's cliche but you can't beat NY for energy, food, diversity. The people (at least in Manhattan) dress better way than we do in LA.
Food. Yes, it's true the pizza is better. Yes, the street corner gyro's are amazing. Cannoli's, eclairs.... yup, yup.
Have you ever seen anybody with closed eyes and a fake smile, FAKE dance? A whole room of it is a trip. We were going to leave (the blind, corporate devotion of the event gave us the shivers) but we stayed on until the end. Free Amstel Light will make men do strange things.
After a few hours of wandering around the city, we all came back to the same place to start setting up our gear. Andy had a little trouble with the door man (let's be honest he had his fake ID confiscated by the bouncer at the Surfer Blood show) but it all worked out in the end. We played, in my opinion, one of the best sets ever, and as always, Chloe went a little crazy. She threw a keyboard at a few lucky audience members, climbed a pipe running across the ceiling and knocked down a drum mic, crash cymbal, and floor tom. All in all, Thursday was definitely on of the most rad we've had at CMJ.
Alright, so it's Chloe and I'm back. Thanks so much for having us TVD. It's always such an honor and a surprise when people we respect want to host our music and promote what we're doing.
I apologize for not posting on Friday but we were just incredibly busy with acoustic tapings and interviews (I realize that makes us sound sooooo much more important than we actually are) that I just ran out of energy and time.
Oh! and I got to hang out with one my closest friends Maddie! She just moved to NY a couple of months ago, so it was a treat grab Chinese, hit the Salvation Army and roll over to Top Shop. The only bummer about what I do is that I rarely get to hang with peeps my own age on the road. So shout out to Maddie Mackey!
I'm actually writing from sunny (believe it or not) London! We have three shows booked and a whole week to explore yet another exciting city. We're staying in Camden, strains of Morrissey - "Cooome baaack to Camden..." and I must say, that if we never quite make it to your car radio or greatest hits collection's that we're still blessed to have such an adventure through music.
If, by chance you're reading this from atop doubledecker in London, maybe we see you at the show. Otherwise, Until we meet at Madison Square Garden... —Chloe
It's our weekly Twitter #MusicMonday recap of the tracks from last week that the folks in the press offices and PR agencies want you to be hearing. We post—you decide.
One of the cool things about getting old is having a history. Rock n Roll has blanketed my past. It is impossible to take stock of time without giving every detail a musical context.
Sixteen years ago tomorrow, my daughter was born. She came out in a breathtaking moment. In an instant we were face to face listening to The Beatles’ “Yellow Submarine” in a delivery room at Cedar Sinai Hospital in LA. It was an incredible moment - one I will never forget. It was sixteen years ago.
Sixteen, the age immortalized by the Chuck Berry classic, is this week’s Idelic Hour muse. I dare say it’s the age of first right of passage. Do you remember what you were listening to on your sweet sixteen? Adverts, Buzzcocks, MC5 and Sex Pistols? What do you think the kids are listening to tonight? Ariel Pink, Of Montreal, maybe a little LCD Soundsytem?
A few things come to mind when I think back on turning sixteen. Kids just wanna to have some fun. Kids wanna be free. They wanna look cool and be loved and not just by their fucking parents. My advice is don’t trade 16 for anything! In dedication to the spirit of sweet little sixteen is this weeks Idelic Hour: “16” The Idelic Hit of the Week: Fresh and Onlys - Waterfall (Mp3)
Still in NY. Yesterday was solid. We played our 2nd show of the week and killed it. A nice boost of confidence after blowing it the first time. Our set was better paced, I could hear myself! and the band really brought the noise. We had quite a few people come up to us and say that the show was "10X's" better. It's weird how the same songs, played the same way can have such a different effect from day to day. Oh well...
More importantly, the pizza! Went round the corner and had a couple of AMAZING slices of "pie." When you get to NYC everybody's always telling you about "the best pizza in the city" and it usually isn't. This was. What was called? Nora's? Not sure. Right around the corner form The Delancey on Clinton.
We had ordered our slices but the guy said he had a fresh gorgonzola and apple coming out of the oven so we waited and had that with a slice of sweet sausage and peppers and a side of meatballs. Yum! No joke, seriously delicious. The guy yelled at my manager when he asked for the parmigiana cheese.
"For what"? He scowled in the kind of thick NY accent that you only hear on TV. "To sprinkle on my slice". The guy looked at Chad and squinted his eyes. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." He got a fresh block of cheese, grated it on top and looked Chad in the eyes. "Don't put spices on my pizza." Chad went to grab his slice but he yanked it back, "Whooaaa... it's not ready until I say." The guy pulled out a few basil leaves and sprinkled olive oil on top. "Now it's ready." Like I said, YUM.
Later on he came to our table and said that we were in for a treat. We were going to watch him "make the mozzarella". What we wanted to do was go back to the club and check out the Kids of 88, the New Zealand band that's doing a remix of one of our songs, but he wasn't asking. We went back and watched him melt curds of Mozzarella into a giant blob and tell us about how there's no real buffalo mozzarella in the U.S. and how that, in Italy it's illegal to call cheese Mozzarella unless it really is. He gave us a fresh glob and it tasted so good that maybe he's not crazy after all. But I think he might be.
Later, we ended up at Madison Square Garden to see the Phoenix/Dirty Projectors/Wavves show. Our friend from home (LA) was in town for one day and got us tickets and backstage passes. Jose made Daft Punks helmets for the new Tron movie and they liked them so much they asked him to do all their stuff from now on. Crazy coincidence that he was in town but really cool. Oh.... Daft Punk did a surprise appearance for the Phoenix encore, thus the connection.
Great show!!! Wavves were ok. Im a fan so that was cool. Dirty Projectors where really, really good. They're harmonies are amazing. I don't know how they even do it. They're melodies are so unique but they're able to make being beautifully weird sound so effortless. Phoenix was a big surprise, I knew a couple of songs but I didn't realize how big they where. To be honest, I thought that I was going to be bored and want to leave early but they really put an amazing show. Great lights, a ton of energy, the singer disappeared into the vast crowd a couple of times and would end up in the back or up in the nosebleeds. Crowdsurfing, Daft Punk... cool night.
We've go two shows today. One in the afternoon and one tonight. I definitely feel like I have a boost of inspiration and energy. They're going to be great.
It's our Thursday flashback, culled from the rare and (ultra) obscure crates of 80’s vinyl, curated by our pal Gil:
Poor Girls – The Poor Girls LP
Turning to more adventurous realms, we delve into the rare full length album by the Louisville, KY based alternative band - Poor Girls. The band was founded in 1982 and called themselves an artistic tribal collective of sorts. The genesis of the band consisted of four members that were augmented at times by other band members who would produce noises with pots, pans and kitchen chairs. A sax was incorporated from time to time as well.
Poor Girls would end up gaining local attention by playing the local beat club circuit. The band shared stages with groups as diverse as the quirky Violent Femmes and the hard-rocking UK Subs and Big Black. They ended up producing one cassette and this lone eight track studio album before breaking up in 1986.
The music on this 13 song affair is in one word primitive. Poor Girls use thick, densely layered arrangements of guitar, bass and drums to give motion to their thought provoking lyrics. Many of the songs exude ponderings on life and love, and are delivered in an avant-rock style. The bass guitar has a more audible role than in most alternative bands, and I find it similar to very early Cure tunes.
The album was independently pressed and comes with a blue colored lyric sheet, but apparently in an attempt to maintain an artful element, have printed them in a style that’s extremely difficult to follow…it can be done though. Without further adieu, I’ve selected some of the standout tracks to peruse and download below….enjoy this raw energy….
Hey guys, it’s Chris filling in on blogging duties. As usual everyone is running late this morning and we probably should have started writing this a few hours ago, but anyway. It’s day 3 in NYC and we are getting ready to head off to our show at Delancey’s. Its should be super cool; a big thanks to Sneak Attack for having us out.
We had another busy day yesterday. Got up around noon and started the day with gyros and breakfast sandwiches. We had quite an adventure getting a cab as usual (apparently a van with 6 seats can only legally carry 4 people?). So we finally made it to Manhattan and grabbed some coffee with Zach from Sneak Attack. The shop we went to was awesome and had great coffee. If I could remember the name I would direct you all there now, and ask for an endorsement later.
After coffee, we walked with no direction to NYU to collect our badges and, of course, all the free stuff these festivals like to bestow upon the bands playing. We were also given some sort of schedule that really resembled a textbook or car owner’s manual. From NYU we walked about 12 blocks to enjoy the free beverages and food at the Pure Volume house artist lounge (where we will be playing on Thursday at 10:30!)
So here’s where the real adventure begins. I’ve never been to New York City before. Everyone in the band knows that. So for some reason I was entrusted to lead us to Webster Hall to catch Surfer Blood’s set. Unfortunately I got a little confused and took us about 5 blocks the wrong direction. I just kept telling everyone I knew where we were going. Sorry guys, if you are reading the blog.
So after my poor navigating, we were a little late to Webster Hall. We walk to the door and the nice (read: douche) doorman tells us the club is full and we can’t get in all night. We are all pretty bummed, but Max came to the rescue big time. He had the hookup with Surfer Blood’s manager, who used to manage another band Max was in. After a quick chat, Max was able to get us in (which the door guy was not too excited about). Surfer Blood put on a great show and Webster Hall was an awesome venue.
After the show we took the L train to Brooklyn with some friends and grabbed some pizza and went to this cool bar for 2 for 1 beer. Of course Chloe was pissed that they wouldn’t let a 15 year old girl into the bar. Injustice!
Max, Andy, and Chloe are practicing in the next room for an acoustic performance this afternoon and I think we were supposed to leave for the venue about 15 minutes ago. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s blog with all the wacky adventures of the KITTEN crew.
Saidah Baba Talibah hit our radar recently upon the release of her 'Phone Demos.' The low-fi, gritty, raw quality of her phone demos apparently came about by accident while she was in a writing session. With no studio or tape recorder to record the songs created, the only device available to document the new material in progress was—a cell phone.
The sessions, recorded as wave files, easily converted to mp3’s to burn them to CD. The reactions to the sound of the recordings were described as reminiscent of old blues recordings (eg. Robert Johnson, Bessie Smith). Inspired by countless reactions, releasing the phone demos was a way to include people in on an entire journey—starting with the raw beginnings of the songs—just voice, guitar ...and a cell phone.
Despite her McGuyver-like abilities, Saidah remains true to our favorite format.
“I can’t remember my childhood without the record player playing. When you walked into my house, you were greeted with the sound of music. The living room (which was located at the front of the house) was where we entertained with the family’s go-to records, because we couldn’t fit the entire collection in our living room, the remainder were in the basement in my mother’s music room with the reel-to-reels and her upright piano.
My mother (a singer, actor, and writer) was onstage doing the musical Don’t Bother Me I Can’t Cope when she was pregnant with me, hence why I probably gravitated towards musicals in the beginning, I think for the drama. I vaguely remember watching it, but I know for a fact that I was deeply moved by the Broadway production of The Wiz and then to have the record in my possession, in my own living room. In my solitude, I’d push the coffee table off to the side to create my own stage to choreograph my own The Wiz. I swirl around the four corners of the room transforming myself into the powerful tornado that took Dorothy out of Kansas or I’d get on my hands and knees and act as the Mean Ole Lion, roaring and singing gruffly. And times when I’d feel a little scared or lonely at school or in my young life, I’d sit in a corner comforting myself, rocking myself back and forth singing the song that Dorothy sang when she was scared and lonely:
“When I think of home, I think of a place where there’s love overflowing… I wish I was home, I wish I was back there with the things I’ve been knowing…”
Needless to say, musicals pulled at my heartstrings. My record player and I were very good friends during that time. And when I started to branch out from musicals, I still gravitated towards music that held me emotionally. See, listening to a record for me was a full body experience. Rarely, even at a young age, did I not listen to the entire record from top to bottom, over and over and over again, learning each nuance, creating my own production, playing each character with fervor and serious dedication.
Sitting on my living room floor was like story time for me, my own private adventure. And each time I gingerly took the record out of its sleeve to place it on the turntable, set the needle on the record and prepared myself for my story, I’d always learn or hear something new. Or I’d fall deeply in love all over again like it was the first time. And the album artwork, liner notes, lyrics…all the information! Pictures and drawings, the love and care that would go into tying all the images in with the story of the record…I was in HEAVEN!!
So naturally, I would very easily get stuck on certain records, playing them over and over, learning, feeling, tasting each nuance, each hue, never wanting to miss anything. Sometimes that took days, sometimes weeks. And it was like prying teeth for me to open up to a new record, like leaving all of your friends at your old school for a new school with a new set of friends. I spent many a day with Stevie Wonder’s albums, namely Fulfillingness First Finale with one of my favourite songs, ‘Too Shy To Say’ (which I vowed, as a young girl, to sing this song to my true love.)
Another album I spent a lengthy amount of time with, was Andy Bey & The Bey Sisters' Now, Hear! (which, as a bonus, was my family – my mother, her brother and sister). I’d listen ever so attentively to how my family blended. I especially loved ‘A Taste Of Honey’ and it was when I’d lived with this record that my musical curiosity opened up. The songs they were singing were standards, sung in a jazz style. This opened my mind to questioning who were the writers of these songs and who else had sung these songs. So, off on another adventure! Listening to records were like a, ‘choose your own adventure’ book at this stage in my life. How exciting to find Michael Jackson singing ‘Ain’t No Sunshine’ to find out that Bill Withers wrote it and to search through the records to find Bill Withers singing his own song!
Yes, I’m still that person that prefers the physical representation of music in my hands with the artwork, liner notes and all, and CD’s have all of the above, but they’re not the same. I remember buying the CD of The Wiz, and while it was nice to have, I missed the warmth and individuality that each record held.” —Saidah
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