I had never seen a show at Glasslands prior to this Saturday, and have to say, despite its somewhat abandoned location, I was enchanted. As I sipped my beer, waiting for the show to start, I took the time to appreciate the excellently haphazard and whimsical space, hoping the music would follow suit. Supported by an energetic coterie of glow necklace adorned fans, openers We Are Country Mice were by far the highlight of the evening. Brooklyn-based, but mid-country reared, their sound is honest and refreshing. Sometimes twangy, sometimes vaguely surf, they’re just plain fun. They won me over with “The Ballad of John,” a gorgeous, harmonious country-esque rambler that breaks out into a crashing, cathartic rock song. “A Good Old-Fashioned Barn Raising” is a lot less creepy live, and come on, who doesn’t love to see a megaphone appear onstage? Drummer Kurt Kuehn looks like he’s having an absolute blast, as they all do. Between a xylophone cameo and some inherent scrappiness —lead singer Jason Rueger smilingly manned their merch table all night — We Are Country Mice, are for sure at the top of my small-indie-bands-I’m-rooting-for list.

More on We Are Country Mice, Dragon Turtle, ARMS, Tall Firs @ Glasslands | 3.6.10

Banjo Or Freakout is a bedroom recording project recently turned live band that sounds a lot like, well, a bedroom recording project recently turned live band. It has the flaws you’d expect: the band is competent but slightly uncertain, the vocals falter and slip out of tune in a way that does not sound intentional or stylistic, most of the songs pick one rhythmic and melodic idea and just hit it on the head for about five minutes, the whole set is smothered in synth washes and reverb that hide all the melodies, no one really moves around much. This last was especially surreal at the Knitting Factory, given the generous size of the stage and the absolute swarm of photographers pacing the front with bizarre, spiderlike stabilizing contraptions and poking their lenses out from behind the amps. The obsessive documentation seemed to call for a little bit more than Alessio Natalizia and company were willing to give us, a fact that crystalized in the moment when I saw the videographer do a dramatic zoom in on the hands of the bassist as he played the same single note he’d been playing for about three minutes. Then the three Londoners in The Wave Pictures came on and obliterated the entire Banjo Or Freakout set with one blistering guitar lick.

More on Brooklyn Vegan Pre-SXSW Show @ The Knitting Factory | 3.15.10

LIVE JOURNAL
JezebelMusic.com @ Silent Barn
January 07, 2010 | Fluffy Lumbers, Museyroom, Shark?, Bonus Eventus

The Silent Barn is essentially “your friend’s basement” the venue. Smoking is allowed indoors, but ironically not outside. As I lit up outside the front door, my usual pre-show routine, the doorman ushered me inside.

“We don’t allow smoking outside,” he explained. “Don’t want to draw the cops.” And, with the tip of my cigarette glowing like a torch beacon, he led me down into the depths of the basement.

The view was a disappointment. While the blue interior and plastic flowers that wound their way up the poles were pleasing, it still did not hide the fact that there were support poles EVERYWHERE and no actual stage. A crowd clustered around the front of the room was the only sign there was a performance going on. You know, that and the actual music. Which, owing to the less-than-ideal performance space, leant a sound that was loud and flat. Still, that didn’t mean the talent didn’t show.

Train trouble and the idea that nothing would start on time kept me from seeing the first act, Fluffy Lumbers, but I heard he took the “stage” solo and with energy. As I nibbled on my vegan pop tart, courtesy of Pop Tarts Suck Toasted (http://poptartssucktoasted.blogspot.com/), I took in Museyroom. I’ll be honest, they’re not really my thing. Ambient and masturbatory, they seemed unsure of themselves. With a little practice they could have a good thing going, but at this point, a basement is where they belong. I’m not saying they don’t have potential, but they didn’t get me my $5 worth.

Shark?, on the other hand, was a treat. Channeling a definite Misfits influence, with a touch of Jim Morrison in the vocals and a blues-rock instrumental, they were incredibly entertaining. Even from my spot, where I could see approximately 1⁄4 of the lead singer, I could tell they put on a decent show. I picked up a copy of their album, which came in a record single sleeve for some band from what appears to be the early ‘80s, and I’m pretty psyched to listen to it.

The last band to go on was Bonus Eventus, a band from the Dinosaurs in Vietnam collective, members of which, Jenn and Liz Pelly (of pellytwins.blogspot.com) helped organize the show. (And also took the helm to DJ between sets. Talk about multi-tasking!)

Channeling the party vibe that is their very being, Bonus Eventus took the stage with three people wanting to sing and one microphone. All leaning in, in an almost mo-town sort of way, they screamed the lyrics to their songs and hoped to hell the mic caught it. It was actually rather endearing, as they were dealing with more than their share of technical difficulties.

At first there had been concern that they would run out of time to perform, with Shark? taking the stage later than anticipated. However, after running through their repertoire (“We have nothing left to play!”), they were momentarily at a loss for what to do. But, thanks to the close-knit nature of the audience, a solution was at hand! Friends and co-members of band the Abberlines joined the stage with guitarist Matt Ludwig for an impromptu reunion. Their mellow sounds ended the night as the underage chugged their $2 Budweiser and prepared for the long train ride home.

by allison levin

LIVE JOURNAL
JezebelMusic.com @ Glasslands
January 6, 2010 | The Babies, True Womanhood, Total Slacker, Beach Fossils, Sundelles

[All images copyright 2010 Rachel Oakes]

Last Wednesday, an adorable swarm of stripey-teed, bespectacled Williamsburgers filed in to Glasslands for bands whose very monikers spoke volumes to the nature of the crowd: Total Slacker, The Babies, and perhaps a bit more far-fetched, True Womanhood. Although the main event was The Babies, (comprised of members from Vivian Girls and Woods), I thought True Womanhood had considerable novelty appeal and definitely won Miss Congeniality for the night. Thomas Redmond, Melissa Beattie, and Noam Elsner’s melodic doomsday drones brought out the vampire in all of us, and by the end of their set, even the bartender was rocking out.

Utilizing maudlin drum loops, beer-soaked, distorted basslines, and Doug Martsch-inspired vocals, the trio of psych rockers filled the space with a palpably hypnotic echo. The sound is a product of organic songwriting, never taking the obvious route back to a hook, barraging the ear with a pattern of recognizable basslines, and then shying away. Luckily for us, this gave way to the under-indulged timpani, whose deep and kettled voice brought new life to the roll of the kick drum in experimental indie rock. Elsner’s drumming is a sight to behold, as is Beattie’s childlike, Duff McKagan attitude toward her bass. The songs could have been tighter, but the kernel of a great structure was there, and at Glasslands, who’s counting?

by Drew Citron

Check out more shots of the show after the jump!
More on The Babies, True Womanhood, Total Slacker, Beach Fossils, Sundelles @ Glasslands | 1.06.10

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JezebelMusic.com @ MHOW
December 12, 2009 | Kaki King, A Rose Parade

Nobody, not even the musicians, wanted to be at the Music Hall of Williamsburg on December 12. A Rose Parade singer Shannon Funchess made it clear from the start that she didn’t want to show up. “It was cold and I was sad and tired,” said Funchess, looking like a lumberjack on holiday, right before their set started. She pretty much summed up the rest of my experience. There I was, among hand-holding couples who were intent on making out until Kaki King showed up, wondering when the pain would stop.

At first glance, trance inducing, soulful ARP seems like an appropriate side project for TV on the Radio’s Gerard Smith. It sounds like Beach House, Portishead, and Tracy Chapman are being played at the same time. Smith’s guitar is melancholic, with riffs that verge on the spooky. If I closed my eyes and pretended to not be in Williamsburg, in the midst of a Sapphic sea of pot-smoking couples, I could’ve very well been marching across a sad, foggy meadow. Funchess’s voice is a pleasant surprise – it has all the soul, without the caricature. Her delivery is honest, but at times the heaviness and repetition made it difficult to keep listening. Theough the sound at the Music Hall is fairly good, I couldn’t listen to the lyrics when the lead singer’s voice got particularly raspy.

All in all, the band has a refreshing premise, if you take refreshing to mean somewhat unnerving. It’s one of those cases in which every component works well on its own, but if you put them all together something just doesn’t work.

In between sets, more couples started to show up. Those who ventured into the night alone were falling asleep or eating sandwiches in corners.
More on Kaki King, A Rose Parade @ Music Hall of Williamsburg | 12.12.09

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JezebelMusic.com @ Glasslands
December 10, 2009 | Ana Lola Roman, Behavior, Perpetual Mvmt <> Snd
The night at Glasslands was off to a slow start. For a long time, it was impossible to tell whether it had started at all. Perpetual Mvmt <> Snd, a performance group from Philadelphia, toed the line between art and accident in a kinetically monotonous, tepid act. A man played a large clarinet-like instrument that sounded like a car backfiring with a kitten wedged in the exhaust pipe, and was joined by a cellist doing a convincing imitation of fingernails on chalkboard. As one man rustled paper into a microphone, two women made halting movements toward the center of the stage, cruelly teasing the audience into expecting something to happen. Then, as would continue between all movement sequences, a seated non-performer hissed “stop” and the beep of a stopwatch resetting was heard, the girls returning to their seats amid farting noises from the not-quite-clarinet and generically ominous sonic atmospheres emanating from a laptop controlled by another performer.

There was a briefly entertaining zoological moment as one girl started flapping her arms in the birdlike fashion of five-year-old kids playing Pretend and the other prowled the stage like a lioness. The primate camp was represented by the formerly paper-rustling man, who squatted purposefully at various key junctures as if relieving himself.

The paper-rustler repeatedly presented what appeared to be his interpretation of an open mic night—tapping the microphone, clearing his throat, clapping abortively—a non-indictment perhaps even less interesting than his concentrated bouts of mimed shit-taking. Everyone periodically referred to papers under their chair, all business in between spasms of bunny-hopping and ticking noises. One girl turned around and began flapping enthusiastically again, revealing an unintentionally hilarious tramp stamp. End. Naming one’s group Perpetual Mvt <> Snd and displaying as little as possible of either movement or sound may be high concept and ironic, but it makes for a very dull show.
More on Ana Lola Roman, Behavior, Perpetual Mvmt <> Snd @ Glasslands | 12.10.09

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JezebelMusic.com @ Glasslands
November 13, 2009 | Oneohtrix Point Never, Northampton Wools, No Fun Acid

I began to contemplate the limits of the electric guitar as I watched Thurston Moore and Bill Nace’s dual-guitar harsh noise project Northampton Wools on Friday at the Glasslands in Williamsburg. It’s an analog device, after all, and despite generations of innovative pedal supplements, the basic concept has gone largely unchanged since the days of Bo Diddley. How could such a fossil measure up against the infinite possibilities offered by the digital?

What got me thinking in this direction was that this was the record release show for Rifts, the second full length album from Daniel Lopatin’s post-techno project Oneohtrix Point Never. I’ve seen his music described as post-techno or ambient house, but it seemed to me closest to a gentle and unchallenging ambient music from his Myspace tracks. In comparison, Moore and Nace looked like cavemen trying to make fire as they banged metal implements on the guitars resting face up on their laps, producing often dumb-sounding landscapes within an insectoid undulating primordial chaos. It was messy, it was uncomfortable, but it was a familiar terrain of chaos and reprieve that they seemed so calm and content to navigate as they used every part of the instrument like it were a deer carcass.
More on Oneohtrix Point Never, Northampton Wools, No Fun Acid @ Glasslands | 11.13.09

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JezebelMusic.com @ Market Hotel
November 12, 2009 | Slim Twig, Dirty Beaches, Ela Orleans

Ela Orleans, a Polish musician based in Brooklyn, was a surprise act not listed on the Thursday night lineup at Brooklyn’s Market Hotel. It was a pleasant surprise, however – she quickly mesmerized the audience with hazy melodies; the sampler, guitar, and voice delicately layering atop one another. Orleans held the guitar across her lap and stroked it like a black plastic pet, with reverb  giving it a sound somewhere between that of a dulcimer and a theremin, producing high notes that settled tentatively over the undulating backdrop of the opening song. The idyllic beach-house guitar conjured up an atmosphere all twilight and palm trees – a far cry from the stark onstage cluster of sampler boxes in a drafty warehouse. The next song’s preprogrammed percussion and bass supported a creepily climbing scale of vocal harmonies that maintained the tranquility of the opener while hinting at a touch of evil beneath – but playfully, with electronic twinkles and whistles sprinkled around to keep listeners guessing. A thunderclap of sharp electronic noise gave way to an alluring tidal wave of surf-guitar lullaby, but the calming spell was fractured when Orleans demanded a halt to the proceedings due to technical difficulties, stubbornly refusing to work around whatever flaw had nested in her loops until the track could be restarted.

Someone in the audience chose a moment of silence to cackle hysterically, and Orleans flashed that hint of evil again with a nonchalant near-whisper – “Somebody’s laughing? Not after this song…” What followed was no threat, but another quietly delivered harmonic mesh of vocals entwined with barely-there guitar strumming, a barely-alive “I am lost without you” drifting over the music that itself floated like a held breath afraid to let go completely. By the end of the set, the idyllic plucking of the guitar was threatening to lull listeners to sleep, but she naturally drifted to a close in time to prevent the lullaby from becoming literal.
More on Slim Twig, Dirty Beaches, Ela Orleans @ Market Hotel | 11.12.09