When I arrived at Le Poisson Rouge tonight and saw what appeared to be a movie playing on a screen on stage, I was afraid I had come on the wrong night. (Shoot. Did I just spend 12 bucks to watch a movie?) But before I could worry to much, the side door opened, and Victoria Bergsman (formerly of the Concretes and the chick from “Young Folk”) and her backing band walked on stage, bearing incense.
In the minutes leading up to Taken by Trees’ set, people sheepishly lined the walls, as if afraid to stand in the middle of the floor, but at Victoria’s request following the first song, the crowd stepped forward and closed the gap.
Victoria Bergsman of Taken by Trees
For a Swedish artist, Taken by Trees sounds fairly… worldly, and I suppose that’s only fitting. Her last album, East of Eden, was recorded in Pakistan. According to Victoria’s website, she has always been intrigued by ‘the rhythm, drums and flutes of Pakistani music.’ Her live show may not feature Pakistanis singing backing vocals like her album does, but her performance is still tinged by this disparate culture. Instead of your standard drum kit, the two percussionists incorporate various types of shakers and bongos.
The mood was right, the crowd reverent, and the music mesmerizing (1), but it all seemed to stop too soon. Taken By Trees’ set clocked in under 45 minutes, which seems like a more appropriate length for an opening band than for the main act. (And no, there was no encore.) Honestly, it was kind of a let down, but it did leave me wanting more…
Taken by Trees may not have played this cover song, but I’ll leave you with it for fun anyway.
Set List
1. To Lose Someone (listen)
2. Anna
3. Greyest Love of All
4. Day By Day
5. Too Young
6. Summer Sigh
7. Only Yesterday
8. Watch the Waves
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(1) Elsa Chiao also sounded fantastic on backing vocals. Chiao’s angelic high voice complimented Victoria’s deeper tones.
DM Stith just released a double disc on Asthmatic Kitty today that includes remixes and extras from last year’s moody masterpiece Heavy Ghost… in addition to some (odd) cover songs.
Heavy Ghost Appendices (Cover artwork DM Stith)
Take a listen to “Be My Baby” (originally done by The Ronnettes):
Heavy Ghost Appendices also includes covers of songs by Randy Newman, David Byrne, and Diane Cluck.
DM Stith kicks off his month-and-a-half-long summer tour with a show at 92 Y Tribeca on June 12th (which happens to be my birthday in case you’re keeping track).
Ever since I saw Phantogram play at the Bowery Ballroom on Wednesday night, I haven’t been able to get their song “When I’m Small” out of my head.
Given the experimental style of their music and their flashy appearance, it’s hard to believe that the duo practices in a barn in upstate New York and didn’t just step off the L train, but it’s fun to imagine chic singer and keyboardist Sarah Barthel wearing pumps and a skin-tight black ensemble, head banging next to some chickens.
Phantogram
To see a full review of Wednesday night’s show (including info on the two opening bands), check out my write-up for Brooklyn Vegan.
Hey, guys. So a few days ago, I got an email from popular NY-based music blog Brooklyn Vegan, asking me if I’d like to write for them, and I decided to give it a try. This means that there will probably be fewer live concert reviews here, but the blog will live on! (Of course, Brooklyn Vegan is also just a click away).
If you aren’t National’d out by this point, I encourage you to check out my first post about Saturday night’s show at BAM. Exciting stuff.
I probably won’t link to BV every time I post something there, but I will mention it in my new Twitter feed. Follow me for the latest.
When Molly Shea and Jason Klauber of Acrylics walked on stage wearing their nearly-all-white outfits and donning solid white wigs, I actually thought to myself, Wow. Are you serious? Martians. Martians steeped in shoe-gazey, ambient space rock. Honestly though, if martians are going to be playing a show in Brooklyn, I can think of few better venues than Glasslands. Lining the stage and ceiling are these puffy white 3D creations – it kind of looks like a bunch of white tissue paper that has been sculpted into flower-like buds. Oh yeah, and they have rigged up lights to illuminate different parts of their patchwork sky, so the background flickers with a gentle off-white light. The effect was rather spectacular given the Acrylics’ look and accompanying repertoire.
Acrylics - in normal (hipster) garb (Photo Victoria Jacob)
Still, I couldn’t help but pondering the merits of the gimmick band. You know what I’m talking about. I once saw a band where every member wore large sunglasses on stage. Or you know – maybe they’re all wearing construction workers’ hats. Sure, maybe it’s interesting at first, but it can all get a little old. And who really enjoys a gimmick band more than once? Same schtick every time.
Acrylics – they weren’t bad per sé, but come on. Towards the end of their set, they threw silver-spraypainted beach balls into the crowd. Yeah. At Glasslands. The beach balls did little more than hit unsuspecting people in the face and distract me from the music being played, and make me long for outdoor summer shows.
When Tears for Fears’ “Head Over Heels” immediately started playing after Acrylics were done, I couldn’t help but grin. Standard weird 80s stuff. Perfect martian music.
An outdated photo of The Blow's Khaela (now she has long Charlotte Gainsbourg style hair)
Then… The Blow. I fell in love with Khaela Maricich when I saw her in 2007. Sure, her music may just consist of her vocals and pre-recorded dance beats, but it just seems real, and I always have been a sucker for lo-fi done right. Then, of course there are Khaela’s lyrics.
When you’re holding me,
we make a pair of parentheses.
There’s plenty of space to encase
whatever weird way my mind goes,
I know I’ll be safe in these arms.
…
You’re not a baby if you feel the world.
All of the babies, they can feel the world.
That’s why the cry.
I love it. And apparently, so does Lindsay Lohan.
OK, I admit Khaela never actually came out and said she had been hanging out with Lindsay and writing songs for her, but it was certainly strongly insinuated.
So I wrote this song for a celebrity. Someone you definitely would have heard of, but you probably have never listened to her. She went on to say that this unnamed celebrity had recently had a big downfall – her face was all over those magazines, she had been dating a girl (but it wasn’t a big deal in the media), she sometimes goes around comando, she apparently likes to sing “Parentheses,” and well, apparently she likes gold, strappy high-heeled sandals. hmm…
Sadly, the album Khaela had been writing for this mystery celebrity is no longer coming out. The thing that sucks is that it exists, but it’s locked in a vault and not in peoples’ heads. But I can still sing them here.
One of the new songs was all about owning disasters and personal meltdowns. All you have to do is make disasters sound cool.
Another was about making things up as you went along. (Apparently, this unnamed celebrity (UC) had been telling her mother about her feelings for a girl, when her mother responded that she was just looking for attention and that she was making it up, prompting the UC to respond You know, you’re right. We are just making it up together. Kinda genius.
Khaela had had big plans for this album. She admitted that she often sang about boys instead of girls because for her, singing about being a lesbian wouldn’t be radical. I’m spastic. But if you get a ‘normal girl’ to sing about a radical topic, and if the ‘normal person’ does radical things and does it right, then these radical things can become normal.
It was a good evening. Sure, some people actually walked out or balked at Khaela’s sheer awkwardness and minimal music, but then there was also the group of girls near the front who sung along and listened appreciatively when she began telling a story… and I guess I was more aligned with the latter group.
Other highlights from the evening of ‘hits’ included: “Hey Boy,” “Parentheses,” “The Long List of Girls,” and “Come on Petunia.”
Also – apparently Khaela now lives in one of the five boroughs, so hopefully we’ll be seeing and hearing more from her.
The National – High Violet [4AD]
Release date: May 11
In a 2007 interview with The Nerve, singer Matt Berninger commented:
The National, in my mind, has always been a New York thing. As far as New York being a place where there’s more pressure, I think the opposite is true. The city is incredibly nurturing to bands.
The National may New York to thank for much of their success as musicians, but something seems to have happened to them – or at least to songwriter Matt Berninger – that changed his opinion of the city, for the worse. Gone is any semblance of urban satisfaction on High Violet. And I’m not talking about just a passing disparaging comment. No, the disdain seems to be palpable.
Lyrics range from “Lemonworld”: So happy I was invited. It gave me a reason to get out of the city. See you inside watching swarms on TV. Livin’ or dyin’ in New York it means nothing to me.
to being stuck in New York and the rain’s coming down in “Little Faith.” There’s even a post-apocalyptic reference to the Manhattan valleys of the dead in “Anybody’s Ghost.” (1)
I can get beyond the whining for the most part. I mean who doesn’t long to get out of the city every now and then. Berninger’s pleasant deep baritone also masks most of the complaining. But it’s another story entirely on songs like “Runaway” and “Vanderlye Cry Baby Geeks” when he leaves behind his smooth voice and stretches his range to sing higher notes. Some people complain that Berninger’s voice is too monotone and lacks diversity (2), but High Violet suggests that maybe Berninger should stick to what he does best.
Take ”Runaway,” for example:
Of course, you could also argue that the strain in his voice is more raw and really expresses a sense of longing, and there’s something to that. I still maintain that it’s a dangerous territory to enter due to the risk of sounding pained – and dare I say it – a little bit… emo.
In addition to the New-York-sucks motif, preoccupations with water and weather also factor prominently into High Violet. It’s really astounding. Tracks 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11 all contain references to water be it through oceans, rivers, rain, or floods.
But let’s move beyond all that. I’ll try not to take the whole New York thing as an affront.
Over the course of their career, The National has showcased increasingly excellent instrumentation, and High Violet is no exception. In addition to the usual fare, brass and string instruments factor prominently into the lush mix. They may officially be a five-piece, but in a live setting the sheer volume of textures on the album becomes apparent via the extra help the band invokes to help complete their sound.
Take a listen to one of my favorite cuts from the new album, “Anyone’s Ghost,” which the band recently performed for WNYC’s Soundcheck:
Gone are the raucous songs of the past like “Mr. November.” But that doesn’t mean that High Violet is without feeling.
Waves of paranoia and frustrations invade the lyrics. At one point, Berninger basically admits to being a zombie. I was afraid I’d eat your brains, he sings in “Conversation 16.”
But what I love about The National is that they don’t just create an art form for the ears. The lyrics of High Violet are highly evocative. Intriguing one-liners fill the songs with images.
I was carried to Ohio in a swarm of bees sounds almost mythological, and a game of nuns versus priests sounds both comical and terrifying.
The bottom line: Is it good? Yes. Do I like it more than Boxer? No… at least not yet.
The dapperly dressed quintet is playing a (rather impromptu, and almost definitely sold-out) show at BAM this Saturday. Check it out if you can. The sound quality promises to be fantastic. Also – let me know if you have an extra ticket! (My computer at work was so slow that the show sold out before I could even pull up the page to get a ticket).
—
(1) I also could have sworn that the lyrics to “Anybody’s Ghost” were: The city is not inside my heart. It was. The city should tear a kid apart. It does.
But it turns out they’re: “you said it was not inside my heart”
(2) I, on the other hand, have always been drawn to his soul-satisfying voice.
I walked into Doveman’s show, mid set – and in the middle of a depressing string of songs. This one’s about an ex-girlfriend drinking alone in her room in college, admitted front man Thomas Bartlett by way of introducing “Drinking.” It’s got a lot of discordant notes. He leaned far over the piano as if dwelling on memories (or perhaps just concentrating hard on the notes). Doveman features a wide array of musicians, but tonight Bartlett was joined by a trumpet, upright bass, and drums. Sadly, Sam Amidon was not present though the two Vermonters (Vermontians?) have collaborated a fair amount in the past.
Thomas Bartlett of Doveman
For every song, Bartlett had some sort of pithy intro. So You know when you’ve been drinking too much red wine and you get that stain on your lips? Well this song is about that.
And then a lesson about whiskey followed by So I invite you all to get a shot from the bar and start drinking for “The Angels Share.” And a story about playing at a Christian school. They asked me to replace every mention of ‘honey’ with ‘Jesus.’ I think you’ll find it highly entertaining if you think ‘Jesus’ every time you hear ‘honey’ in the song.
The set was very laid back, but the music was also very deliberate. The drums actually had texture and complexity. And, for once, I didn’t even take my earplugs out of their case. Instead of the usual wide open space, a handful of tables and chairs were spread out on the floor, and people sat, respectfully, sipping beer by candle light. With a number of other promising shows happening concurrently (Beach House at Webster Hall and Local Natives at Bowery Ballroom), I suppose that the people at the Bell House really wanted to be there.
There are currently 10 songs up on the Doveman myspace page. Go nuts.
As the special lighting got rigged up in between sets, people sat Indian style on the floor, but once Patrick Watson had started his set with “Firewood,” most rose to their seat.
Watson’s music may be absolutely beautiful and melodic, but it is also quite raucous at times. Soon, the reason for all the special attention to the lighting was made clear. The small flood light attached to one of the amps at the front of the stage periodically lit up, illuminating everyone on stage – if only briefly. Throughout the show, the lighting played an important role in establishing the mood. For some songs, the lights flickered on and off, furiously.
Patrick Watson
At times, Patrick Watson’s music is downright creepy - especially “Traveling Salesman,” which sounds almost carnivalesque, as if made by a maladjusted and melancholic clown. The dimly flickering lights on stage just add to the unsettling effect.
For much of the set, Patrick Watson shared the stage with as many as seven other people who played the violin, viola, cello, guitar, drums/percussion, bass, guitar, etc. The percussionist in particular, was quite good. He knew when to rock out, he had a lot of different toys to pick from (wooden blocks, overturned ceramics, and much more), and he knew when to sit back and let the melodies take over.
Ever song sounded epic. Every song sounded worthy of being the grand finale… or at least I thought so until I actually saw the double encore performance.
For the first song of the encore, Watson walked off the stage, saying So we built a fun contraption. Just give us two seconds while we put it on. And then he emerged in the crowd wearing this:
Yes, those are megaphones strapped into a backpack that has five inputs and knobs in the back to tinker with the sound. Oh yeah, and those megaphones all have light bulbs coming out of them. So we built this thing so we could play in the audience and have some fun, Watson continued. He proceeded to walk to the middle of the pit with his band, and they played two songs from there. As always, the use of the saw was quite welcome (especially in the audience!).
This is the music for after the zombie apocalypse, said the guy behind me.
The pack on Watson’s back was cool, but presumably, it was also quite heavy. This was a terrible idea, he admitted as he took it off and set it on the ground for the second song, “Man Under the Sea.” Now unencumbered by the pack, Watson led the crowd in a sing along that was so enthralling that I didn’t even notice his band mates slip away and walk back on stage, where they played out the last bit of the song in full force once again.
I think the band intended to stop playing then, but they came back for just one more. Watson took suggestions from the crowd and settled on the ad-libbed title “Where’s My Pajamas.” For the final song, all eight people played this new song, making it up on the spot as they went alone. My bones are getting cold now. I want to put you on, Watson sang softly. He frantically directed his band mates for this dramatic conclusion.
From what I could tell, here’s the set list (feel free to correct it if you know better):
Fireweed
Tracy’s Waters
Beijing
Big Bird in a Small Cage
Traveling Salesman
Intro
Man Like You
Luscious Life
Where the Wild Things Are
Sit Down Beside Me
"He considered music a liberating force: it liberated him from loneliness, introversion, the dust of the library; it opened the door of his body and allowed his soul to step out into the world to make friends."
- Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being
