Arcade Fire on SNL/another planet

The Arcade Fire helped to open up SNL’s umpteenth season with host Tina Fey last night, but took their contribution a step further by presenting a livecast concert Here Comes the Night Time after the show to showcase their new material in a fantasy Salsateca filled with disco mirrors and cross-promotional celebrity cameos, with James Franco, Michael Cera and Bill Heder all appearing as various characters before the music even started.

[Although these cameos were totally overshadowed by Aaron Paul randomly appearing several times in sketches as Jesse Pinkman, bitch]

The integration of modern relevant music acts and Saturday Night Live is anything but a new idea, but this particular spin on SNL’s relationship to the artist was a positive reflection of the potential future these sorts of collaborations have in a generation of such rapid media consumption.

First and foremost, thanks to Hulu, Netflix and Project Free TV, there is simply no longer a need for young people to gather and watch a variety show live, especially on a Saturday night when their social status could be adversely affected by their staying in.  However, as I sat in my living room with a group of friends huddled around our small analog TV drinking PBR, I began to understand what this meant in a larger cultural context.  Instead of passively consuming the background noise of SNL as we tapped away on Twitter and Buzzfeed, we were engaged and interested, laughing together at a shared medium. 

[via 'Back In the Day']

This is not to say we don’t religiously gather around the TV for our favorite Sunday night dramas (RIP Breaking Bad) but the context of giving one’s Saturday night to enjoy a cultural moment with your chosen circle of friends is important for more than just the content being viewed, but the temporary glimpse back it offers to this faux neo-nostalgia millenials crave, a reminder of the heyday of Nicktoons and pre-viral social conduct.

Also, the music kicked (and boogied) a significant amount of ass.  Just saying.  Our primary reasoning for joining together was primarily the promise of new material from one of our favorite acts in recent history, but in doing so we gained an experience not often afforded to our generation these days.  The result of our collective enjoyment was a feeling of gratification, of experiencing media, as opposed to our painfully post-postmodern M.O. of merely consuming it.

Either way, there are three basic, absolutely essential, non-theoretical points that must be taken away from this:

1)     Arcade Fire is a force to be reckoned with, and their new Haitian drummers are so effing rad, out Indie-ing even Ginger Drum Bro’s empassioned 2005 Coachelly performance. (PIC) It appears Winn Butler has maybe outgrown his Diva/basketball stealing ways, able to even laugh at himself during Tina Fey and Kenan Thompson’s swipes.

2)     AARON PAUL IS THE BEST HUMAN MEME ALIVE.

3)     Fuck Andy Samberg.  I’m still pissed about Joanna.

#TeamSharks

Watch the full Here Comes the Night Time post-SNL performance, directed by Roman Coppola here:

Viral Infection: Bleep Bloop Beats Edition

Oh, hey there...

Nice to see you again...

That outfit is so fetch...

Too indie to use working washers

Sorry, I'm still mourning the loss of Joanna Newsom, snapped away into the clutches of nuptials (#NupsClutch?) by Andy Samberg earlier this week. The two were married in a quiet ceremony in Big Sur, CA, one I was (rudely) not invited to.  Oh well, at least she's still alive and harping, and I wish her many happy years of boats and dicks in boxes... 

Not pictured: Box With Dick

If only he had stayed with Natalie Portman or snatched up an alt-baguette from Dirty Projectors or even Bethany Cosentino aka Best Coast. I mean, she likes Wavves and he seems like a bro who vibes to Lonely Island, or at least dresses like them/ 'danks out' while watching their skits.  Then maybe the world could go on spinning and so many lonely indie boys and girls could put  Have One On Me on the old turntable and dream of Joanna fingering harp vibes in their bedroom as she plays with their hair and bakes cookies.

If only she had stayed with Bill Callahan and his Smog-gy goodness and made beautiful New Weird America wave offspring...

Suspenders+Paisley 5-ever

But I digress...so here are some bleeps and assorted bloops to dance (or cry) away the pain to, if your pain is indie love lost. If it's not, well, these songs will definitely make your vibes significantly greater.

I Break Horses---"Denial"

Start the healing with this warm wave of dreamy synth and fluttering low dB pulse

#ItGetsBetter

Luxury---"J.A.W.S"

A twinkling ball of wibbly wobbly booty beats co-produced (or perhaps created?) by Disclosure. There isn't an actual video yet, just put on Electric Sheep or your iTunes visualizer and groove out.

FKA Twigs---"Papi Pacify"

If you're looking for some dark freaky shit though, this is definitely your biscuit. FKA Twigs manages to cram bellowing bass, erotic asphyxiation, and glitter into 5 twisted minutes, a feat as impressive as it is erotic. You go Glen Coco!

A/Live Show: Deerhunter @ Webster Hall 9/19

The first thing I found myself thinking as I walked into the cramped confines on Webster Hall was: where the fuck did all of these people come from?

It was by far the most diverse crowd I had ever seen there: art school kids chatting with Wall Street suits, cool NPR dads standing next to dreadlocked teens smoking pot and plenty of giddy teenagers and senior citizens. With a band as eclectic and unique as Atlanta's Deerhunter, this should have come as no surprise, yet I found myself fascinated with this motley crew of weird vibes. Once the lights went down, the crowd lit up as one by one the members of the band stepped onto the stage until the messianic figure of frontman Bradford Cox, decked out in a floral dress and black wig, loomed onto the stage.

 From the first three songs, it was apparent that the band was ready to span their relatively slim back catalog and play more than just new material; starting off with Octet (from their sophomore album Cryptograms); Neon Junkyard (from their latest Monomania) and radio friendly hit Don't Cry from the critically adored Halcyon Digest.  The set progressed in this fashion throughout, playing older fan favorites complimented with their impressive newer releases.

In the middle of the set, Bradford stopped a minute to express his sincere gratitude to New York fans and his love for the city, calling it their second home.  He too commented on the diversity in the crowd, inspiring a young man to throw his driver license up onto the stage.  Cox, infamously known to be quite the indie rock diva, found it hilarious, reading the name of the man from New Jersey and commenting on how terrifying the photo was.

It is such a simple moment like this that so aptly displays the relationship Deerhunter feels with their fans.  Media outlets and blogs are so quick to comment on Bradford Cox's unpredictable mood swings and difficult nature, yet they glaze over his many moments of sincere kindness and approachability because it's much less exciting to read about.

Deerhunter closed the set with a noisy extended jam of Monomania and Microcastle's Twilight At Carbon Lake.  The band quickly returned for a three song encore and left with equal haste, (as Bradford Cox was scheduled for a DJ set at Williamsburg haunt Glasslands) but the crowd descended the grimy exit stairs in a flurry of excited chatter.  Now that these characters had experienced what brought them back together, their worlds would go back to business as usual: whether that business be school, stocks or stonerism, their familiar social constructs were passed over and swirled together by the creative juggernaut that is Deerhunter.

Viral Infection: NPR Weirdo-Wave Edition {Bill Callahan, Ira Glass & The Mountain Goats}

To hold you together this most humpy of hump days, here are a few viral selections for your auditory and visual pleasure, made possible by your generous gift to National Public Radio.

Bill Callahan, formerly known as Smog singing "Small Plane" from his new album Dream River (which recently received Best New Music on P4k) in an East Village community garden.

Ira Glass of This American Life singing Elliott Smith's "Say Yes" with Lucy Wainwright.

The Mountain Goats performing for NPR's Tiny Desk music series.  This one is better enjoyed with your eyes closed to better paint the pictures in your head for the stories John Darnielle tells.

DUSTY VINYL: Biff Rose: "Roast Beef"

Biff Rose: Roast Beef

Today’s find will be a rare offering from outsider artist Biff Rose, his 1977 New Year’s Day album Roast Beef.  

Biff Rose is most famously known for writing songs that people way more famous than him made famous, specifically David Bowie, who covered “Fill Your Heart,“ and John Denver, whose version of “Molly” scored him a minor hit in 1970.  

fig. Beef {Biff Rose & beard}

fig. JD {John Denver, thinking about Molly, vibin 2 birds}

 

fig. MDMA {too much Molly.}

Although originally released by Down Pat Records, the last copies are being sold via Drag City and owning one of the few remaining original pressings of this quirky LP is quite the treat, even if it smells more like old cardboard than tasty deli fare.  

The entirety of the lyrics are handwritten and printed on the front and back of the album, offering a more interactive listening experience, as well as a road map to the improvised diary that makes this album so unique.   

Financed by Michael Nesmith of The Monkees and recorded in one sitting, Roast Beef is a strange adventure into the mind of a man who may very well have left the building long before we arrived.  

fig. Clarksville {Michael Nesmith, money on his mind}

On Roast Beef, Rose offers up a winding, stream of conscious lament on loneliness, longing and love lost.  The songs aren’t separated by empty sonic space or key changes, but are weaved together through frenetic key jingling breakdowns that coincide with Rose’s own desperation.   

Side A opens with “Home Is Just As Good As Anyplace,” a somber mantra to perpetual loneliness that sets the overarching tone for the entire album.  This lonely wandering is continued in “When We’re Together (I Don’t Want to Get Caught)” and “Love All the Time,”  songs that are really only distinguishable by their lyrics on the sleeve.  

 It is only when we hit playful gems “Hello Dolphin” and “Music Fills My Burp” that we are introduced to the man at the heart of this album: a gentle, silly guy who wants a cute girl to squeeze while he drinks a beer on the couch.  Side B is when the happy façade visibly fades and we find Biff staring at empty walls once more.   

fig. DIY {Biff Rose going grassroots as HAIL}

Some would call this a break-up album, but really it goes far beyond the constraints of an actual relationship and into the territory of obsession.  Rose simultaneously pines over one he lost, one he loves and one he’ll never have and begs the question: are they all the same person? 

“Hello, Beer Can” and “We Were Only Fourteen” are the highlights of an otherwise uncomfortable Side B.  You can feel the creative gusto that controlled the course of the first side slowly starting to lose steam [via steamboat] but this is not to say the remaining tracks are mediocre, they just feel a little redundant amongst the ocean of piano improv.   

We understand you’re lonely Biff, now get up from that piano and do something about it. 

While this record may not be a strong cup of pop sensibility, it is nonetheless a fascinating offering from a unique artist and provides a rewarding listening experience for those brave enough to chart the choppy cognitive current of the Rose Sea.

FOR FANS OF: Daniel Johnston, Harry Nilsson, Randy Newman on some weird drugs

LISTEN TO: Music Fills My Burp, Hello Beer Can, Anxious Moments, We Were Only Fourteen

USE THE BATHROOM DURING: More Than He Does, Time Was Very Long Ago, Afraid to fall In Love Again

BEST SERVED WITH: Pull tab beer, warm lighting, roast beef

VERDICT: Solid lo-fi weirdness to impress that cute hipster vinyl nerd, or maybe make them commit suicide.  Either way, definitely worth a listen