Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

Friday, August 30, 2013

Epic Weekend, Part 1: Tegan and Sara and FUN at Edgefield

I am so lucky. My dad has always been a huge concert-goer, and because of that I tend to reap some pretty incredible benefits. One of them is that sometimes he buys extra tickets and I get to coast in on his metaphorical coattails and rock out. That will happen three times this magical, ear-rending, epic weekend. The first show was last night, where Tegan and Sara opened for Fun..

Now, I was excited for both bands at this show. When I walked in, Tegan and Sara were a band I knew about and liked, but didn't know well enough to remember many lyrics or be able to identify what album which song came off of, etc. So we were standing around on the lawn drinking alcoholic beverages and schmoozing with my aunt, who is just as much of a music fanatic as we are, when there they were. (Truth be told I was actually in line for the ATM when they physically came on, ugh, but I heard wonderful sounds coming from the stage and hurried back.)


After about half a song something magical happened that has happened to me before. I will have the incredible opportunity to attend a concert which features a band I like, and seeing them live transforms something in my brain. My synapses light up. Something clicks. Words and chords get branded into my neurons. And then I'm hooked. That is what happened with Tegan and Sara.



Needless to say, you should go listen to their newest album, Heartthrob, which I've been playing on loop all day. Their voices are very distinct, their harmonies and layering are great, and they're running heavy keyboard and a dance beat under several of their tracks. It's catchy as hell. Good luck getting it out of your head.

We were a little sad to see Tegan and Sara go, especially because we wanted an encore from them. But Fun. was the main event, and they definitely put on a good show. 


The first time I saw Fun. was when they were opening for Panic! at the Disco in what looked like an old warehouse in Seattle. Fun. hadn't hit the radio heavily yet and "Some Nights" was still largely an unknown (pushing up my invisible hipster glasses here). I distinctly remember laughing with my friend about the name - I mean come on, how many bands can you think of that use a single word, and an adjective at that, as their name? - and then being thoroughly put in my place by a ragtag bunch of talented people dressed like Hoods from the 1950s. I was never so happy to the put in my place, because honestly, Fun. is fun.

They're a little bit bigger now, if you hadn't noticed.


I mean, come on, you know you've made it big when you have a confetti blizzard and your backdrop plays live footage of your band like in a stadium show. At first I was a little offput by their stardom; they were hot shit and they knew it. But as the night went on, it was clear that they hadn't lost what had put me in my place that night in Seattle. They're talented, they're tight, they play well together, they banter a little but not too much, and they're obviously having the time of their lives. That, I think, earns them their name all over again.


Thanks for coming to Portland, everybody. I'll see you Saturday night on the lawn for Death Cab for Cutie.

Sunday, March 31, 2013

One Night for One Drop with Cirque du Soleil


As it turns out, Cirque du Soleil's founder, Guy Laiberté, is also the founder of a non-profit organization called One Drop, the manifesto of which is "to ensure that water is accessible to all, today and forever." In honor of World Water Day (March 22nd, 2013), Cirque du Soleil put together a one-night show where all proceeds go to One Drop. But, seeing as how not very many people can get to Vegas to see an exclusive one-shot at the O stage in the Bellagio, they also built a website, One Night for One Drop, where potential viewers can access the content for a minimum donation of five dollars. Unluckily for any of you who are just finding out about this, I procrastinated and waited until the last night that content is available (oops!).

The show itself was spectacular. As I mentioned, it borrowed the stage of O in the Bellagio, which is one of the best shows I've had the honor of attending. It was an appropriate choice, as O is a water-based production, and they utilized it in some of the more spectacular ways that O does: namely, synchronized swimmers and extreme high-dive. In addition there were dancers of all sorts, two of the best solo aerialists I've ever seen, and several guest appearances, including Jackie Evancho singing Simon and Garfunkel's "Bridge over Troubled Water" (alongside a familiar face from O!), David Garibaldi, a spoken word performance by In-Q, and an original quartet by Danny Elfman entitled "Fragility."




Overall the music was stunning. The performances were stunning; one of my favorites featured a swimmer in a mermaid tail and a contortion artist who was "born" out of a seedpod-like structure, like the mythic/folkloric barnacle goose.



The cast incorporated a grand total of two hundred and thirty seven Cirque du Soleil artists and guest performers from twenty countries and ranging from ages two to eighty. The cause is important and deserves to create the ripple effect Guy Laiberté described, what those of us who live on the internet might call signalboosting. However, there was one thing that threw me off guard about this show, and it was some of the costumes.

There were several acts which seemed to serve as a reminder that not everyone in the world is blessed with plumbing, or with access to any clean water (or with the financial flexibility to acquire tickets to a nice, plush seat in the Bellagio, or internet access at home, for that matter). That is all well and good, but the performers in these acts were marked as participating in a non-western culture in one way or another.

The first of these was a dance number which was clearly supposed to represent Indian women searching for water: they were clothed in garments reminiscent of Saris and carried pots, exiting the stage with them full and on their heads.


The modifications to the Sari-like costume (because they were definitely costumes) have arguable, functional purposes. The masks that the performers wore do not. They serve a unifying purpose, yes, in much the same way that an ancient Greek chorus was meant to be a mode of storytelling, not individuals with personalities, and the same way that members of a chorus line are dressed identically. But in the context of the message "these people are less fortunate than you," covering the faces, arguably the most expressive part of the human body, and replacing them with identical caricatures came off as oppressive to me as a viewer. It seemed to emphasize the otherness involved in the situation in a negative way, which was perhaps worsened by the inherent voyeurism in the act of watching a production.

There was a very similar feeling to the 'African' act, where the performers were dressed almost exclusively in animal print. The act, strangely, contained a sort of fashion-show runway walk, which also seemed preoccupied with emphasizing (and in this case exoticizing and sexualizing) the otherness of the people involved. 



There was also a 'South American' act, which featured dancing reminiscent of flamenco and Capoiera, a Brazillain martial art, and women dressed in Carnivale attire (lots of feathers).

This is not to say that all of the choices, or even most of them, were bad - that would be impossible - but several of them gave me pause. One that didn't was an act in which all of the performers were clearly supposed to be penguins and, regardless of phenotype or gender, they were all dressed in black and white vintage punk (items like a bowler hat, vest and tie, spats, and leather tailcoat appeared beside hoodies, striped and skintight dresses, and boots).


The moments that gave me pause were not the dominant strain of the show, and I recognize that One Night for One Drop has made a project of trying to incorporate the global community; these performances were meant to be a celebration of culture. As it was, the execution sometimes felt like parody, not homage. I wonder what the designers had in mind, but I wonder more what people of these cultures would have to say about the show's representation of them. 

Friday, March 9, 2012

The AFK Tavern

I recently had the great fortune to visit the AFK Tavern in Everett, WA.

The menu, like everything else, was delightfully geeky. For victuals I ordered something called the Mt. Doom burger - a beef patty topped with the one onion ring to rule them all followed by the hottest hot sauce I think I have ever consumed. Though my mouth was burning with the fires of a thousand ages, the upside is that I can say I've eaten a volcano in my lifetime.

The drinks menu was, likewise, full of mishaps. While my friend threw back her Gryffindor shot and sipped on a Previously, on Battlestar Galactica... I ordered nothing but Zelda drinks.


#1 - Lon-Lon Milk
If you aren't singing Epona's song in your head right now, there's something wrong.


Rich, creamy and with a hint of nuttiness, Lon-Lon Milk goes all out with a float of whipped cream to t
op it off!

Hearts: full. Sword: charged. It's game time.

Made with Frangelico, American Honey, and Half and Half.


#2 - The Triforce
Make a wish, you're in the Sacred Realm.


Intense but with a light hint of smoky haziness when going down. Pure gold.

Goldschlager, Vanilla Vodka, and Dark Rum.


#3 - Gerudo Valley Tea

For which there is no photo :(

Smokey with a hint of sour and rimmed with sugar, evokes long treks across the wastes and getting thrown in jail by sexy thieves.

Made with Firefly tea and Bulliet Bourbon.


In short: totally awesome. I'll be going back.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Howdy!

It's been a while! In light of the fact, this might seem a bit more like a ramble than anything else. Or maybe a list. I'm not really sure.

Had the wonderful opportunity to see both The Santaland Diaries at Portland Center Stage and The Dimes at the Kennedy School. Both were fun, but The Dimes were phenomenal. If you haven't checked them out yet, shame on you. Go do so. However, the adventures for today were:

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows


EXCELLENT. I was far more impressed with this film than I expected to be. Not to say that I had any doubt it'd be decent, only that I can't honestly say which film could be called "better," even with the first having the advantage of being, well, first. Jude Law and Robert Downey Jr. give a grand show as expected, and the addition of the lovely Noomi Rapace as Madam Simza and the excellent Stephen Fry as Mycroft worked wonders. However, Jared Harris as the supremely chilling Professor James Moriarty must, inevitably, take the cake.

While diehard Conan Doyle fans will take issue with some of the choices, I think they are inevitably justified by the structure of the Holmes Adventures in the first place: they are only episodes. Yes, we are told that Sherlock goes away to become a beekeeper somewhere for his retirement, but that doesn't mean we are privy to every case - each story is open ended. That isn't to say that anything goes, necessarily, but this film has many nice touches, including the preservation of that openness which characterizes the serialized adventures. So, diehard or not, please go see this film. It's absolutely lovely.

Check it out on IMBd.

And

The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword



THIS GAME. IS SO GOOD.
It is the reason I am currently unable to sleep.
In retrospect, I have no idea why I didn't think of blogging a Skyward Sword diary. It would have been so much fun! And caused me to be even more sleep deprived than I already am, but whatever. In interest of not spoiling it for anyone, watch out for warnings.

First of all, the controls are great. Yes, the wiimote doesn't always respond correctly, but that's to be expected, really, especially when you're swinging it wildly, shouting "NO, HORIZONTAL SLASH, YOU--" etc. etc. Other than this slight (but predictable) setback, the only control issue is that the wiimote/nunchuck combination required drains batteries extremely quickly. Get thee some rechargables or Zelda fans will destroy the environment all by themselves!!

Gameplay is great. Everything about it that I was reluctant about - stamina gauge and upgrades, mostly - have been incorporated smoothly. Even the upgrade system (which normally makes me shudder under the brunt of never-ending RPG that usually goes with said function) is fantastic. The only mechanic which could have been improved was the controls for the musical instrument. There are no Ocarina-style command patterns needed, the game just identifies which song you've learned that goes with the location you're in and, essentially, plays it for you. A slight setback, in light of the rest of the game, but a bit of a let-down, nonetheless.

The story is great. After all, it is a prequel to the ENTIRE series, so I expected they'd have to come up with something good. There are plenty of little things (and big things!) to make long-time Zelda fans drop their jaws or throw up their hands in combined frustration and elation. This is coupled with a non-stereotypical Zelda main villain with a flair for the theatrical: the diamond theme was a nice touch in light of that. (SPOILER: A villain who, I hear through the grapevine, doesn't turn into a raging psychopath at the end, like Zant did.)

But the best is possibly the ART. This game is gorgeous and I can't even do it justice. So here. Have some concept paintings. (WARNING: snarky captions might be considered spoilers by some parties.)

Epona?! What happened to you?


I swear, if you tongue my ear one more time...

All in all? This game is completely addictive. Not recommended for young children or pregnant women.

Also, for those of you who have played/are working on it: the trials. Isn't it appropriate that the things you have to find in the Silent Realms are called "tears"? After all, when you're playing those parts you're CRYING THE WHOLE TIME.

But, massive time-challenge stress aside, this is a great game. If you want to check out official stuff, take a look at the website.

That's all for now, folks - I've got to get back to saving the world.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Rant and a Half

A preface: this quarter, I'm taking English 313, Theory and Criticism. Not only is the class sufficiently oblique and vague for the nature of its title, there are some interesting participants.

Today, we were discussing Plato's Ion and, more relevantly, Arthur C. Danto's Dangerous Art, published in Demetrio Paparoni's volume Eretica: The Transcendent and the Profane in Contemporary Art (173-201).

Danto's essay, or at least what I was able to grok from it, had to do with art, censorship, politics, and how they're all tied up together. What I found most interesting was his assertion of a rather curious conundrum: whether or not censorship is in place, art is assaulted, and if the state of censorship changes, art is assaulted again.

His best example on the side of change was a passage about Rock Music in the Soviet Union in light of Glasnost. Rock, he tells us, was dangerous and underground due to censorship and was therefore powerful. When Glasnost was put into place, that necessity, therefore the danger, and therefore the power of Rock n' Roll evaporated. "To legitimize rock is therefore to rob it of its form and hence its meaning:" he writes, "an officially condoned rock is precisely rock that the state has conquered" (176). So art under censorship is powerful and the transition to transparency destroyed that meaning, that function. The same, I am sure, could be argued for a change in the opposite direction.

Likewise, his example of art under censorship was in context of the Soviet Union, but before glasnost. Focusing on Literature, his main argument was that, since everything was considered a potential threat, both author and audience had to examine what wasn't said, rather than what was said: that the skill of reading between the lines, or "deep reading," as Danto terms it, was the only way to get a message across.

He then goes on to analyze what I will term, in reference to him, 'free' art. His assertion - which he drives home over and over again - is that to put art on a pedestal is actually to put it in a prison: that in a country where expression is free, the label "art" derives the work of all its danger, significance, function and power. The idea is that no matter how offensive or controversial a piece or its content is, it can immediately be waved away with the phrase, "Oh, it's art." He credits this to Plato himself, who originated the idea that anything material at all is only a copy of an idea, therefore imperfect, therefore not real. And since art is a copy of life and therefore a copy of a copy, it is doubly un-real. And naturally, anything unreal can't do real damage. So what is its significance? For Danto, the state of 'free' art means art which is not free at all: art which has been stripped of its meaning entirely.

In light of all this, the class was discussing what could have contributed to this phenomenon of powerless art. Guy#1 speculated that the availability of materials through the internet could have contributed, especially where music is involved. He brought up how anything can be cut, sampled, mixed, and posted without need of a studio, rights, regulations, any of it. Our professor reacted by asking if we thought this process had taken the political nature out of music. Guy#2 jumped on that question, talking up and down about how music wasn't worth it any more, that it had been drained of meaning by the internet, that it no longer had a message.

If my brain was't full of snot due to my Bronchitis I just might have sworn.

Item one: How do you possibly think that free access and distribution of music could have the capacity to hinder meaning? Distribution has nothing to do with content at all. Some of the best music in my library (The Dimes, to name one) is readily available on the internet and that doesn't affect their content in the slightest. Hell, most of their early music was written and recorded separately through use of digital microphones on their personal computers and they sound fantastic, both on CD and in real life. Musicians out there have plenty to say, regardless of whether they're as popular as can be or in your back yard (Decemberists, Abney Park, Lady GaGa, Jessie J, Green Day, Airborne Toxic Event, Rebecca Drysdale, just to name a few.) And guess what? That long list can all be got through the internet.

Item two: Now that we've established that music can still have meaning, what kind of logic do you have to use to think the internet is detrimental to that meaning? There is a lovely interview - that's right, available right here on YouTube - by Neil Gaiman discussing the benefit of advertising through the internet. While it's a little off topic, the point is the same. Your work reaches more people in less time through use of the internet. Over the internet, any message aimed at any audience is bound to reach hundreds if not thousands more people than would ever encounter it if it weren't on the web. Hell, we can jack that number up to millions provided the item goes viral. If that isn't sufficient evidence, the Oregonian ran an article last year about an author who, after being repeatedly rejected by publishing companies, decided to cut out the middleman and self-publish for, you guessed it, the e-book market. Her readership (as well as her bank account) jumped up immediately. Through clever web marketing, she's now significantly contributing to her family's expenses with her art.

Item three: Nothing exists in a vacuum. Early on in Dangerous Art, Danto proposes as a thesis that "our art and our political reality are made for one another; that each, one might say, is the same set of symbolic forms differently embodied" (175-6). In that light, how could it be possible that music isn't political? Just because we don't have an heir to Zack de la Roca's approach of up close and personal confrontation of what I might even dare to call "the system" doesn't mean that music inherently has no political meaning.

Item four: Perhaps most importantly, art as a whole, including music, is what you as an audience make of it. This is reached by what I now regard as fact: that artist's intent in inherently less important than audience interpretation. There is such a thing as interpretation without grounds, however, once someone makes something and puts it into the world, they are no longer there to mollycoddle it or justify it. It's on its own, becomes its own entity. If you as a viewer or listener assume that music is dead and has no meaning, you'll be proven right every time by grace of the stale interpretations of your perfectly closed mind. This is a two-way street, of course, and you can find sunshine and rainbows in pretty much anything if you look hard enough.

The point is, please be discerning, and perhaps give music as a whole another listen.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Adele: Rolling in the Deep

I couldn't help but feature the music video for Rolling in the Deep.

The visuals confused me the first time I saw it. I'm not confused any more.
To go with a song of heartbreak and the desire for revenge, we are given a stunning compilation of images, visual translations of the kind of sorrow which can only be felt in abstraction and are therefore abstract. And those abstractions are all beautiful in their raw intensity.

There is so much I could analyze and infer from this video - from the separation of her and the drummer, the motions of her hands - but I'll let you do that on your own today.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Steamcon II: Weird Weird West

What an event! And now it's so long ago that I am having trouble remembering every breathless, gushing ounce of praise I was going to level at the internet in Steamcon's favor...

The über highlights!

1. It was the best dressed convention I have ever attended. I have shamelessly 'jacked that sentiment from a good friend of mine who was also in attendance. She's a fashion designer, if that adds the gravid tone I am looking for when I say (write?) so. IT WAS SO WELL DRESSED.

2. It included a badass expo hall full of delicious things to buy. None of which I had money for, but I hovered over things a LOT. Alright, that's a lie. I did buy some home-concocted tea from the wonderful B. Fuller's Mortar & Pestle, based locally in Burien, WA. Mmm, gotta love that home brew.

3. There were many booths for many things, like the bands performing that night, as well as the beloved Dr. Steel.

4. There was an art gallery entirely for Steampunk art and it was also a silent auction! More hovering ensued.

5. One of the panels was Steampunk Ghost Hunting, a tag team between the League of S.T.E.A.M. (who also make a huge cameo in Panic! At the Disco's new single, Ballad of Mona Lisa, available on the excellent album Vices & Virtues) and a....legitimate....Steampunk....Ghosthunting team which I can't recall the name of because I am a DESPICABLE human being!!

6. It included Outlaw Night, which, as I have previously reviewed, featured my personal favorite Steamy band, ABNEY PARK!! HUZZAH!!! Airship pirates, Victorian wenches, and Long Islands were had by all. (except me, I was driving. duh :P)

Now for round two this coming October - Steamcon III: 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea!!

Abney Park

LIVE AND IN CONCERT AT STEAMCON II, WEIRD WEIRD WEST, IN SEATTLE, WASHINGTON!!!

What an experience, ladies and gentlemen. What a FREAKIN' AMAZING EXPERIENCE.
There's so much to tell and so little time to do it in. To begin, they were headed by two bands, Bakelite 78 and Ghoultown.

Bakelite 78, another Seattle-native band, is composed of a host of members including (but not limited to) Robert Rial, Ariel Bolles, Jason Grey, Bob Kessler and Rich Unetich on a host of instruments including (but not limited to) guitar, upright bass, accordion, harmonica, trumpet, and the good ol' vocal cords. My personal favorite jam of theirs is called The World's Fair Hotel. For you dark-humored listeners and readers out there, you will know exactly why I enjoy this song so much. I am also a fan of the way this band sounds overall - it's a very singing-through-a-megaphone, or maybe a tin can, sound, and it's wonderfully grungy.

Ghoultown is what has been dubbed "hellbilly." As I have very little experience with psychobilly, I honestly can't compare them, sorry about that one. What I can tell you is that they are from Texas and proud to be "the most talented band of deviants this side of hell" (see their bio). Though I think former Texas Ranger Cole McGee might have something to say about that, Count Lyle, Jake Middlefinger, Lizard Lazario, Santi, Dalton Black, and Randy Grimm are goin' to hell in wild style.

The main event, Abney Park, while a tad late due to the over-zealotry of Ghoultown, was rarin' and ready to go. There were some bumpy moments along the way (example: Captain Robert looks over his oversized microphone to menace the floundering techies in the back: "Is it possible that we cannot hear the keyboard because it is on mute? Is it possible we can't go on with this song because it isn't turned on?" [/scaryman]) they were wonderful, funny, enthusiastic, and cursed a f***ton. Headed by the aforementioned captain, the other members - Nathaniel Johnstone, Kristina Erickson, Dan Cedarman, and Jody Ellen - were joined by dancers, stiltwalkers, and FIREBREATHERS. I was beside myself with joy. And, of course, it was just in time for us to hear songs from their two latest and greatest albums, Æther Shanties and The End of Days, both of which I HIGHLY recommend.

They were a hoot, the night was a blast, I hope they come back next year!

PS - Visit the Abney Park Steampunk Market. You know you want to.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Alegría!

live and in the Tacoma Dome!

My love for Cirque is everlasting and undying, but honestly I feel as though I idealized this show. Perhaps because it was the first show which I had any memento of, perhaps because I was so young when I first saw it, perhaps because I have grown up listening to its music, perhaps because it was and is and will always be ingrained in my mind in a way little else can be.

Alright. So I idealize it. Isn't that the nature of adoration?

For the sake of a bit of history, Alegría was seen for the first time in 1994, performed a decade after the birth of Cirque du Soleil itself. Alegría was proceeded by: La Magie Continue, We Reinvent the Circus, Nouvelle Expérience, Fascination, Saltimbanco, and Mystère. Of these, only Saltimbanco and Mystère are still performed. Even in the face of such previous and enduring excellence, this 1994 newcomer stands up for itself.

Alegría professes itself to be "a baroque ode to the energy, grace and power of youth," and I can believe it. The show speaks to lineage, the old and the new, and the dichotomies of black and white, secure power and endangering risk. And frankly, overall, it's a sensory wonder.

I think what stayed with me the longest, besides the music, was the appearance of the characters. I never forgot the White Lady, as I remember her, or The White Singer as she is called in the official literature.

And she was not the only one; I recalled fragments of the costumes and characters from when I first saw them, and that in and of itself attests to the sheer beauty of this production. I remember parts of Alegría more vividly than I recall my childhood trips to Disney parks. But enough reminiscing.

Alegría in the Tacoma Dome was wonderful. I was a little sad they didn't fit the Big Top, or, if you prefer to be all fancy, the Grand Chapiteau, inside the Dome, but who am I to split hairs? The stage, lighting, MUSIC [especially the music] were spot on. There's just a quality that Alegría's music has which makes it both chilling and enthralling. I've never been able to escape it. Alongside the costumes, the music is my favorite part.

I think these factors are what redeemed the second viewing of this show for me. Since, quite naturally I would argue, nothing can ever live up to the idealized Alegría of my childhood and my dreams, in a way it had to be redeemed. Some of the acts were not quite so impressive to me the second time around, especially when stood up next to the far more recent KOOZÄ! (2007), which some of you might recall I saw last summer. But my discomfort was not in that I wasn't quite impressed or enthralled "enough" - but instead that KOOZÄ! seemed to loom in and even usurp Alegría's place in my heart. But not to fear - the Coup of the Circuses never took place. After all, Alegría had seniority and the fact that I debated at all attests to how well it has withstood the test of time.

Both of these shows have wonderful messages, which is always an important aspect of my appreciation of productions such as these. To me, KOOZÄ! is a call to embrace what some might call childishness, to be sensitive to mysticism and the unknown and to strike out in the world unafraid of inventing that world as one goes along; Alegría on the other hand is a testament to that youth, a celebration of things new and fresh while still embracing what has been. I realize now that I love both these shows so much because they walk hand in hand.

But as all of you know, I can go on about the things I care for the most for days, and none of you want that.
For those of you who are so inclined, seek out Alegría. It has the best clowning I have ever seen, some of the best music and costumes, and, as a bonus, one of my favorite acts of all time: the Flying Man.

I will leave you, then, with this:
Alegria
I see a spark of life shining
Alegria
I hear a young minstrel sing
Alegria
Beautiful roaring scream
Of joy and sorrow,
So extreme
There is a love in me raging
Alegria
A joyous,
Magical feeling...



Also! Credit must be given where it is due! I made use of this lovely timeline posted by a fellow blogger! Thank you ever so much for your marvelous compilation of Cirque materials!

The Dimes

live and in concert at Portland's Muddy Boot Festival!

I had wanted to see The Dimes desperately for over a year, and finally I was given the opportunity! Based in the Vancouver-Portland (Washington-Oregon) area, The Dimes have a flair for history and a good ear for indie pop/folk fusion. Last May they were recognized on NPR when their track Save Me, Clara was made song of the day. If it strikes your fancy you can read the honorary blurb by Barbara Mitchell, The Dimes: A Gentle Plea To An Angel Of Mercy.

The band is composed of Johnny Clay, Pierre Kaiser, Ryan Johnston, Jake Rahner, Kelly Masigat, Tucker Jackson and potentially several others, as they are quite happily prone to including family members and guest stars for various performance purposes. They are self-proclaimed college-campus-playing veterans, and have since moved on to higher prospects including the Crystal Ballroom [my personal favorite venue in all of Portland].

I think one of my favorite parts about the music they make is how very historical the lyrics are. For sake of example, Save Me, Clara is about Clara Barton, a nurse who tended the wounded during the Civil War and who later went on to found the American Red Cross. However, even though this is the case, the references made by the songs do not in any way make them inaccessible: you don't need to know that Clara is Clara Barton to enjoy the song. On their facebook page, the members of the band credit their song ideas to some 1930s era newspapers they found under the kitchen floorboards of a Victorian house they're renovating. (May I take a moment to say, how flippin' cool is that?!) But beyond having excellent lyrics, their sound is wonderfully balanced. I have a soft spot for their multi-harmony vocals, epitomized in their track Emmie Devine. And still beyond that, their sound translates from recording to live and in person very gracefully indeed. Hearing Emmie Devine live nearly reduced me to tears in the very best sense.

So if you haven't heard their work yet, Go Forth, blog readers, and be victorious!

Visit The Dimes on...
Their Homepage
Facebook
Myspace
Twitter

PS - This review is EXCEEDINGLY LATE. I APOLOGIZE. College decided to happen, so I'm really quite behind with this whole reviewing business. I will catch up as soon as I may (despite the fact that the holidays are well on their way)!

Sunday, July 25, 2010

The Dead Weather

in the Crystal Ballroom and very, very live.

I have never been to a show so intense. Because of it, I was not only squished, pseudo-levitated and bathed in the sweat of me and my four closest compatriots [meaning the people boxing me in], I gained a huge [TALENT] amount of respect for the artists in this band. I knew I loved Jack White. Everybody who knows who Jack White is - which should be everyone ever, but there's no accounting for taste - should at least appreciate the undeniable music in his soul. I mean, that music must come pouring out of him somehow: to have been in The White Stripes, The Raconteurs, and the Dead Weather all within a fairly short amount of time (not to mention various underground Detroit bands before getting his claim to fame with The White Stripes) is awe-striking at least. Add that to his stage presence and you get an international superstar [all Green Day and Moulin Rouge! references aside, I'm serious]. Couple all that with the intensity of Alison Mosshart and things get explosive.

Mosshart's sound for her second band, The Kills (Dead Weather being #3), is alternative and, in some cases, playful. For all those curious, see Tape Song. In The Dead Weather.... I think the best possible word I could choose here is gnarly. She was a grunge cigarette zombie queen in the body of an indie fashion model. I can't conjure anything more evocative than that, abstract though it is, so there you have it. Her badassery knew no bounds. She was aloof to the desperate cries and raucous sing-along of the crowd who reached for her as though their lives depended on it, teased them even, and gladly received an unlit cigarette from a devoted fan or two who knew she didn't give shit about the no smoking rules onstage. In short, she rocks. Hard.

The thing that was definitely the most insane and amazing about the show was the investment and passion pumped into every single note. They were larger than life and they knew it, and since they knew it, they weren't about to put on a poor show. And there's evidence to say that they love their crowds and devoted fans as much as the fans love to show it: at a New York show full of big wigs Jack White reputedly shouted "F*** you, you hip motherf***ers!" Go, Jack, Go!
Overall: one of the best shows. Ever. It'll be hard to top that one.

Opening band: Harlem.
What I remember the best from this set is honestly the bassist, sporting a Mickey Mouse-emblazoned baseball-cut 3/4 sleeve tee and rosary made of what I can only assume was pale green and frosty white jade. Well, that and the ability of the band to switch it up and change instruments mid-set. That at the least was worthy of a nod. Sadly, with the sound quality they received they seemed basic indie pop at best. However, their enthusiasm and energy level were certainly promising, and I would be more than willing to give them a second listen.
You can pay Harlem a visit at Shockhound, and on MySpace.

Fashion Report:

The Band
Jack White. Black, long-sleeved tee; tight black jeans; white shoes with a slight heel (soles: black) and buckle closure.
Alison Mosshart. White on black silkscreen tee; 3/4 sleeve leopard-print sweater with button closure; black skinny pants (not denim, a la Tripp); gold ankle boots; silver industrial bracelet; dainty silver chain with silver disk pendant; black nail polish.
Dean Fertita. Short-sleeved v-neck tee, thin horizontal black and white striped; black jeans; black shoes (presumably boots).
Jack Lawrence. Black from head to foot; button-down shirt; jeans; shoes; coke-bottle glasses.

The Crowd
Was completely inconsistent, in retrospect. I saw stylin' hippie-skirts and halter tops in with sleek designer skinny jeans and leather pumps. My personal favorite was a guy in a muscle shirt, pinstriped button-down, and last but not least a huge pair of headphones worn around his neck. But hey. It was a typical motley Portland crowd, and it certainly says something about the sheer number of people The Dead Weather is able to reach.

Links
Official Site
Myspace
Facebook
Shockhound
Wiki

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Adam Lambert

Live and in concert: the following being a recollection of one hell of a night.

I have never seen the Crystal Ballroom so packed. Then again, I suppose that's a given, being the show sold out within twenty minutes of the tickets being available for purchase, but still: for those of you who know what I mean, the line was like K-Con. For those of you who don't, I mean that it went all the way around the block.

Absolute truth be told, rather like when I saw Muse, I didn't consider Adam Lambert among my favorite artists, though I certainly respected his voice from the get-go. Also like with Muse, my standpoint is now rather different. Even with how painfully loud the music was, Adam's voice more than held out. He clearly takes immaculately good care of it: there was no sign of wear and tear as is typically inevitable while on a tour circuit. Rather, it was spot-on. Thus my respect grew. Couple that with the dance beats of half his songs and you have an irresistible mix. And even beyond that, it was the energy with which he performed, the energy with which the dancers moved, and the sheer passion for their art that every single performer displayed. That is what made this a glorious show.

I will have to admit, my night was pretty much made when he performed his rendition of Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire. But then of course it only got better when his cover of Tears for Fears' Mad World as well as his own Strut and Fever made the setlist. Perhaps the best piece he performed - his intended last before his encore - was If I Had You, not for its pop hooks, but for the fact that he made a point to say before he began "This is what this tour means to me." Gotta love an artist with that much honesty and that much passion, no matter the manner in which he climbs the charts.

For the gossip column: Tommy Joe Ratliff, on bass for the Glam Nation Tour, was absent the night I attended. Lambert brought it to the special attention of the crowd, asking for good wishes for him, as "a family emergency" called him urgently home. There has been speculation that Ratliff's father fell victim to a stroke, but the tabloids rage on and time will tell.

To give credit where it is justly due:
the two opening artists, Allison Iraheta and Orianthi, were pretty tight. I have to say that I respect Iraheta's fabulously pink/purple fadeout hair and her energy, Orianthi's voice [it was noted by a friend I made at the concert that she sounded hoarse, but I thought it added a nice growl-flavor to her vocals. oh well], and the energy and talent of Orianthi's bassist (who I sadly cannot find the name of).

Alert to all readers! The following is a new segment I've decided to add to my music reviews. Being I am now employed by a company which deals with both music and clothes, and especially how they work together, I have decided to use my powers of observation toward that end. So, without further ado,

Fashion Report:
The Band.
Adam Lambert. Had a variety of costumes a la David Bowie's Thin White Duke routine, though he didn't quite have one outfit for every song. The following are not complete outfits, but rather elements of various ensembles.
Coat and tails (black) with a white or off-white fur collar; tall, sparkly, red top-hat with a black silk hat-band, black brooch, and two long, thin, black feathers angled and drooping toward the back on one side; p/leather pants; to the floor black coat, presumably either [Tripp fabric] or p/leather; makeup galore; black vest-like muscle shirt, fiddle back (these seams were accentuated by ridges of dark neon-blue fabric, perhaps bias tape on a fold), emblazoned with a calligraphic letter A; long-sleeved button-down black or charcoal grey shirt, silver scrollwork embroidered at the top of each sleeve near where each was set in at the shoulder as well as between the shoulder blades; black cane headed with a silver skull (featured especially in the song Strut).
Dancers' ensembles and other things of import. Honestly I was far enough away from the stage to be unable to absorb the majority of the other fashions onstage. However, I was able to note that the dancers were sporting garments that were either made by the fabulous Skingraft or else they were made to look like them. I recall especially the use of something similar to shoulder-holsters: it made me recall this Skingraft bridle harness.
Allison Iraheta. Black corset, sweetheart neckline; black skinny jeans. [apologies for the brevity: I couldn't see much of her and almost nothing of Orianthi excepting her fabulous hair.]

The Crowd.
There was a predominant sense of glam-rock on the legendary floating floor. If glitter really is the herpes of everything, the Crystal Ballroom will never be the same. It was everywhere. Anything that sparkled, glinted, or shined could be seen, from temporary body art and makeup to sequined butterfly-cut vests to stretch-glitter you-name-it. The sparkle was the key. But there was no lack of skinny-jeans or corset-clad fans, either. There was more than a hint of clubwear, laces, mesh, and lace. I especially recall a black empire-waisted coat, long-sleeved, with a standing collar and lace-up back.

IN SHORT, readers, it was a night full of glitter and good fun.

Links
Wiki article for the Glam Nation Tour
Adam Lambert:
Official Site
Facebook
Myspace
Shockhound
Wiki
Allison Iraheta
Official Site
Facebook
Myspace
Shockhound
Wiki
Orianthi
Official Site
Facebook
Myspace
Shockhound
Wiki

Sunday, May 16, 2010

KOOZA

Public Service Announcement: the following review was written obscenely early in the morning, so circuitousness and general incompetence may ensue. We sincerely apologize for this inconvenience, and see that the author promptly gets to bed.
-The Management

Cirque du Soleil's latest Portland-faring show is the jovial, terrifying, truly awe-inspiring Kooza! This show made me laugh, nearly cry, scream profusely in recognition and support, and scream once from sheer disbelief and fright.

To begin, one of the things that I love about every Cirque show - Kooza included - is how visually appealing they are. Every single one has themes, repetition and association, and also contradictions which help to tie the show together as a whole. The performers play just as much a role as the lighting, costuming, and set do. In every Cirque show I have ever seen, I find myself fixating on one to a few characters. I sadly don't have much recollection of Saltimbanco or Alegria, but in Varekai I remember the "twin birds," (as I referred to them), the contortionist caterpillar-turned-butterfly, the lizard who prowled the stage, and, of course, Icarus. In Corteo I couldn't get away from the white clown for his demeanor and grace, and I equally couldn't get my eyes off the singer, having both respect for his voice and his physicality as he sang. In Kooza, my eyes were glued to Trickster. The performer I saw for this role was clearly an understudy - it was a lady, rather than a man, as in all the advertisements and programs - and I would credit her, but my program, shockingly, does not list her at all. Not only was her costume fun, the persona she took on with her motions was amazing. I don't think I have ever seen that much presence in a role that never once speaks. In fact, I think the only sound she made was fabulously evil laughter right before the lights blacked out for intermission. Anyway, the point of this tangent is that Cirque performers continue to amaze me for their presence on stage as characters, not just as incredible feats of balance, strength, flexibility and coordination.

But they never cease to amaze for those reasons, as well. The double high-wire act was performed without the use of safety cables and without a net until the very last stunt. The chairs that were used for the high-balance did not appear to latch together like the ones in La Nouba clearly did. And the wheel of death? Gracious. This was the act that made me scream once with fright. Not only did the performers appear to attain zero-gravity while working this terrifying apparatus both on the interior and exterior of the circles, they jumped rope on them. It was madness, and possibly the most impressive thing I've ever seen. It's noted in the program that Cirque has never before used the wheel of death. It was well worth it.

Of course there's always the clowning factor. While the routines on stage were much more crude than any Cirque clowns that I have ever witnessed, the audience interaction was fantastic as always with shenanigans aplenty, including a clown dubbed The Pickpocket constantly being chased by "The Police." In the middle of the first act he went running through the crowd while onstage the performers lined up a confetti cannon. I was in the blast radius once, which was awesome, but in the end my best story of the night is that I got what one might call "popcorned." Twice. In Cirque there seems to be a tradition of having the clowns throw popcorn on the audience. I got popcorned before the show even started by a planted clown dressed like a tourist, and then later as well when the Pickpocket was running about. One might this this would be troublesome, but in the end, it's a part of the Cirque experience - almost a Cirque tradition - and I count myself fortunate to have gotten hit at Kooza.

I could go on for hours and hours about the set, the music, the costumes (some of which sported cogs - shoutout to all you fellow Steamheads out there), the acts, the control, the atmosphere in general, but it really is quite late where I am (or should I say early?) and so, I fear, I must bid you bon soir.

Cirque du Soleil Official site, including trailers, upcoming shows, and more!

[EDIT] A Side Note.
The packaging for the soundtrack is just about the coolest treatment of a CD case I've ever seen. Not only does the CD itself pop up upon opening the case - like a pop-up book - if you invert the first layer of this (entirely paper) case, it transforms into the box which appeared onstage, the box delivered to Innocent in the beginning of the show, that very same box which Trickster emerged from in all her splendor. I approve of this. Very much indeed.
Also the music is fabulous. Check it out.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Muse

Live in concert and larger than life in the Key Arena, Seattle, Washington!

May I begin by saying that there is no way I could do the glory that is Muse justice in this space? Yes? Good, because it's true.

To be honest, before this concert Muse was not one of my favorite bands of all time. I knew then that they were wonderful and that Matthew Bellamy was a beast of a vocalist/guitarist/pianist. Over the course of the evening they have become one of my favorite bands of all time. I also learned that Dominic Howard plays a mean (and monstrous!) drumkit and that Christopher Wolstenholme slaps bass like none other (and is the roaring voice on the track Supermassive Black Hole). Some of their music has, I think, been criticized for its inconsistency as far as pace between tracks goes (not to say that variety is a bad thing, on the contrary, it shows skill, in my mind). I will own that there was a time that I would skip their slower pieces. Ladies and gentlemen, these days are over. Live, they were mind-shatteringly brilliant, and I can't believe it took me this long to realize that every single one of their songs is good because they all have something a little different to offer. It sounds so simple and obvious in text, but it was a quite profound moment.

Of course the insane volume of said concert could have had a hand in that profundity. Good gracious was that joint loud.

Aside from being a fabulous band, they also had a fabulous show visually. Their opening band, Silversun Pickups (who were also fantastic - coincidentally, they opened for Snow Patrol way back when as well) played to a backdrop of three ashen skyscrapers. Their coloring at first had my dad and I thinking they would be pyrotechnic props, aka shoot HUGE COLUMNS OF FLAME. I kindof hoped they would. (Shoutout to my dad for being fabulous and buying tickets, as well as braving the hours and hours of rainy stormy drive to Seattle!) Said purpose of said skyscrapers ended up different but ultimately way cooler.

They were projection screens, at first showing men walking perpetually up and down the stairs inside to the slow march of an interlude, and eventually falling and tumbling down like leaves: and then the fabric dropped. They weren't solid all the way through, and the middle sections vanished to reveal the three members of Muse, each on his own skyscraper. For some reason I didn't see it coming and it was very impressive indeed.

For many of their songs they had sort of movie footage - or simply footage - projected onto what remained of the skyscrapers at various times (they lowered and raised in order to allow the band members to actually take the stage, and the drummer was on a rotating plate, which was very cool). My favorite, I think, was white text that slowly worked its way up the skyscrapers. After a minute or so of that, live footage of the band members was laid into the text, resulting in a sort of white-matrix effect. Also, for some of the songs the lyrics appeared, usually in huge, stark letters. (Like for the apt lyric: "They will not force us, they will stop degrading us, they will not control us, we will be victorious," from their song Uprising.) My only visual criticism was that their first song with lowered platforms had a lazer light show which was epilepsy-inducing. That one was overkill. The rest took it down a notch, thankfully.

But possibly the most unique stage prop they employed were giant eyeballs that they let fall into the crowd. And I mean giant. Taller than a man by at least a foot. At first they just bounced around, and then Bellamy walked through one, popping it with his guitar, and emerging on the other side in a burst of red confetti. Totally unexpected, there. Bellamy then proceeded to pop a few more eyeballs amidst clouds of confetti and then threw his guitar into the platform for the drumkit, sending it spinning across the stage and back into the shadows behind the skyscrapers.

In short, it was an extravaganza. A fabulous, eyeball filled extravaganza.
Also, kudos to Bellamy for being the first rockstar I've ever seen to use a full grand piano in a concert. Perhaps this is not uncommon, but there was something fulfilling in seeing them make the effort (seamlessly, but it was there) to haul a Kawai grand onto Bellamy's skyscraper for a set of only a few songs.

In short, Muse rocks my world. Haven't heard much of their stuff? Go check them out at any of the following!
Official Website
Myspace
The YouTubes
Facebook
Twitter
The United States of Eurasia

Friday, February 19, 2010

The Clockwork Cabaret!

With the Darling Davenport Sisters!

The more I listen to this delightful podcast, the more I like it. A wonderous romp in the land of steampunk, these sisters take over their airwaves and oh to do they defend it with pride, infestation of koalas and all. But this is no ordinary podcast, oh no. It provides listeners with music, yes, but it also provides everything from poetry readings to book reviews. And best of all, listeners get a glimpse of life on the Calpurnia, the airship the Davenports use to sail the high skies searching for adventure (boldly going where no man has gone before!) and, of course, attempting to outrun their terrifying pursuers, the CLANNG.

So if you have any inclination toward the quirky, eccentric, the creative, the neo-Victorian and the steam-powered, this is the show for you. Episode 108 en counting.
Thank you so much, Davenports!

Pay them a visit here:

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

The Senate

Live and in concert in Bellingham, Washington!

The Senate was beyond fantastic. My only regret with the experience was to learn that The Senate has actually already disbanded: apparently this was a reunion tour. One of the things that impressed me so much about them was that there was no drummer. A member of the trio beatboxed for a few of the songs - that was awesome - but their lack of a beat except provided by their own impressive sense of steady rhythm was humbling. They also used a doublebass, which I very much enjoyed. Yet better still was their use of a cappella three part harmony. It was somehow unexpected, and even more wonderful for the fact that it was so.

They were accompanied by two excellent opening bands: The Spencer Goll Band and Austin Jenckes. The Spencer Goll Band's sound is on the quieter side, as was The Senate's, while Mr. Jenckes kicked it up a notch or two.

It was also very cool because the bands stuck around afterwards: I got several signed pieces of merch thanks to that, for which I am exceedingly grateful.

Overall, it was the best night I'd had in weeks.

Check out the music!

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other

Backlog: Fruit Bats and Sonny and the Sunsets

Live and in concert in Bellingham, Washington!

So this has now become designated as a backlog due to the fact that homework has eaten my life.

The Fruit Bats were, to say the least, excellent. Freshly back in the states from a successful Europe tour (if I am not very much mistaken), they hit campus on January 21st, 2010 and proceeded to rock the house in a kindof folk-rock way. It was very enjoyable, and a wonderful stress reliever for a Thursday night. For those of you who are well acquainted with me, you will already be perfectly aware that I have a certain compulsion to quest for new music: in this case I feel that my quest was very successful. Both The Fruit Bats and their opening band, Sonny and the Sunsets, are worthy of attention and I can't wait to get to know their music better.

If you're curious, pay them a visit!

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