Friday!
Noisettes
Tokyo Police Club
Of Montreal
Silversun Pickups
Amy Winehouse
Rufus Wainwright
Peaches
The Jesus and Mary Chain
Jarvis Cocker
Interpol
Sonic Youth
Bjork!
Saturday!
Fields
Pharoahe Monche
The Frames
Regina Spektor!
New Pornographers
MSTRKRFT
Andrew Bird
CocoRosie
Girl Talk
Blonde Redhead
LCD Soundsystem
Cornelius
Sunday!
Mika
Anathallo
Tapes 'n Tapes
The Kooks
Junior Boys
CSS!
Klaxons
Air
Ratatat
Teddybears
25.4.07
18.4.07
17.4.07
Coachella
- Friday
- Bjork, Sonic Youth, Peaches, Brazilian Girls, Gogol Bordello
- Saturday
- Blonde Redhead, Regina Spektor, CocoRosie, LCD Soundsystem, Girl Talk
- Sunday
- CSS, Air, Klaxons, Ratatat, Teddybears
15.4.07
The Shins at Celebrity Theatre 11 April, 2007
I saw The Shins last week, and, minus the complete randomness of those in attendance, it was totally enjoyable. Actually, being there for the soundcheck was much cooler than the actual show, as I made it my personal Shinsdanceparty... shindig?! Yep. Not to mention that Eric Johnson, of Fruit Bats, performed with them as he is now a Shin, which I had forgotten. Sadly I didn't spot keyboardist/multi-instrumentalist/uber-Shin Martin Crandall's lady, Elyse Sewell, former America's Next Top Model contestant. Oh well. James Mercer was sporting a full beard, which totally made up for it.
13.4.07
10.4.07
Another Tale of Perverse Passengers
As I walked along University Drive this afternoon, a man in the passenger seat of a silver Mercedes stuck his head out the window and declared to me, "I want to be friends with your ass." Weird times. Dear male population, why do you insist on treating me so awkwardly? Sure, complimenting my ass is flattering, but using Anchor Man material as a pick-up line while inside a moving vehicle isn't really enticing, and definitely not sexy. I'm not terribly offended because I totally understand wanting to befriend a nice ass... oh wait, I mean... a nice person. Right? Right.
Anyways, the new Blonde Redhead finally arrived today! I could not be any more excited. Kazu Makino never ceases to wow me vocally, and the entire atmosphere of 23 is much airier, shedding Makino's thick depression that inspired Misery Is A Butterfly. Her voice is still haunting as ever, but it's freer and more engaging. Not to mention she enunciates, making 23 an approachable collection of breathy songs that feel like dreamy vacations, instead of isolation in an empty room.
Silently is a downright surprise. It sounds like Blondie, minus the brassy, deeper tones of Debbie Harry. By the time I reached Top Ranking, the ninth of ten tracks, I had to pause. "I hope one day we meet again / I hope one day we love one another," Makino sweetly sings over island-inspired drumming and gentle piano.
What am I hearing? This album is... happy?! While it's not giddy, bopping or really danceable, 23 is absolutely a resolution to the dreary, weary beauty of Misery Is A Butterfly. For those who haven't given this tragically gorgeous three-piece a shot, or have shot them down after requiring anti-depressants after a little listening, 23 is your chance to love Blonde Redhead! Take it!
Anyways, the new Blonde Redhead finally arrived today! I could not be any more excited. Kazu Makino never ceases to wow me vocally, and the entire atmosphere of 23 is much airier, shedding Makino's thick depression that inspired Misery Is A Butterfly. Her voice is still haunting as ever, but it's freer and more engaging. Not to mention she enunciates, making 23 an approachable collection of breathy songs that feel like dreamy vacations, instead of isolation in an empty room.
Silently is a downright surprise. It sounds like Blondie, minus the brassy, deeper tones of Debbie Harry. By the time I reached Top Ranking, the ninth of ten tracks, I had to pause. "I hope one day we meet again / I hope one day we love one another," Makino sweetly sings over island-inspired drumming and gentle piano.
What am I hearing? This album is... happy?! While it's not giddy, bopping or really danceable, 23 is absolutely a resolution to the dreary, weary beauty of Misery Is A Butterfly. For those who haven't given this tragically gorgeous three-piece a shot, or have shot them down after requiring anti-depressants after a little listening, 23 is your chance to love Blonde Redhead! Take it!
8.4.07
New Bjork
Volta comes out 7 May, also known as three days after my birthday. Also known as I'm dropping post-birthday gift hints.
27.3.07
Fosbury
Tahiti 80
French quartet Tahiti 80 deliver sweet and smiley grooves on their delightful LP Fosbury. Thirteen tracks exhibit Tahiti’s danceable, cultivated synth pop, without a glimpse of sloth in an unending flow of soulful giddiness.
Listeners will find “Changes” impossible to dislike, in spite of its standout as the obvious single. “Changes” perfectly showcases the breathy, harmonized vocals that make Tahiti 80 so undeniably irresistible. Singing along is mandatory. Dancing is not required, but it would prove fruitless to resist the desire.
“Chinatown” is a lovely surprise, with dreamy lyrics about budding love and the awkwardness. The celebratory “Somebody New” escalates with handclaps aplenty, sounding uncannily like Outkast’s “The Whole World,” while still maintaining a paradoxically energetic-yet-mellow vibe.
If nothing else, Fosbury will leave you with a cute grin and catchy tunes. It’s definitely worth multiple listens and offers some solid additions for your next dance party mix.
Myths Of The Near Future
Klaxons
The rumbling of “Two Receivers” kicks off Myths Of The Near Future, an assault of a debut from Klaxons. The audience is immediately forced into a vicious beat, then supplemented with grainy vocals, like Todd Fink mashed into David Bowie with a dash of Prince, and then come the jingly, almost eerie keys. Could this be more awesome?
Could anything beginning with such joviality and grandeur possibly keep up with itself? Luckily for all of us, Klaxons answer with an assuring “Psh, duh.” The frenzy of “Atlantis To Interzone” followed by the darker, subdued “Golden Skans” shows the versatility of the English trio. Klaxons showcase their top game on the gem “Magick,” speeding up, slowing down, freaking out and breaking down. Dance-crazed ravers and psychedelic punks alike will be content to put Myths on repeat. The bottom line is that this album doesn’t bore.
Tahiti 80
French quartet Tahiti 80 deliver sweet and smiley grooves on their delightful LP Fosbury. Thirteen tracks exhibit Tahiti’s danceable, cultivated synth pop, without a glimpse of sloth in an unending flow of soulful giddiness.
Listeners will find “Changes” impossible to dislike, in spite of its standout as the obvious single. “Changes” perfectly showcases the breathy, harmonized vocals that make Tahiti 80 so undeniably irresistible. Singing along is mandatory. Dancing is not required, but it would prove fruitless to resist the desire.
“Chinatown” is a lovely surprise, with dreamy lyrics about budding love and the awkwardness. The celebratory “Somebody New” escalates with handclaps aplenty, sounding uncannily like Outkast’s “The Whole World,” while still maintaining a paradoxically energetic-yet-mellow vibe.
If nothing else, Fosbury will leave you with a cute grin and catchy tunes. It’s definitely worth multiple listens and offers some solid additions for your next dance party mix.
Myths Of The Near Future
Klaxons
The rumbling of “Two Receivers” kicks off Myths Of The Near Future, an assault of a debut from Klaxons. The audience is immediately forced into a vicious beat, then supplemented with grainy vocals, like Todd Fink mashed into David Bowie with a dash of Prince, and then come the jingly, almost eerie keys. Could this be more awesome?
Could anything beginning with such joviality and grandeur possibly keep up with itself? Luckily for all of us, Klaxons answer with an assuring “Psh, duh.” The frenzy of “Atlantis To Interzone” followed by the darker, subdued “Golden Skans” shows the versatility of the English trio. Klaxons showcase their top game on the gem “Magick,” speeding up, slowing down, freaking out and breaking down. Dance-crazed ravers and psychedelic punks alike will be content to put Myths on repeat. The bottom line is that this album doesn’t bore.
20.2.07
What the hale betch?
I was waiting for the light to change on Apache and Normal. I was waiting like a regular human. There were no flashing neon signs or whirlwinds of glitter or totally awesome backup dancers. However, little me, standing on the street corner, minding her own business, attempting to block the indecisive sun from her eyes, was the victim of a yelp-and-run. Now generally speaking, a yelp-and-run consists of a person, typically male, inside a vehicle, more than likely in the passenger side, howling, either words or beastly noises at an innocent pedestrian lady. Well, I know what you're thinking: I'm simply projecting my love for the TLC classic "No Scrubs" onto myself in a sort of sick and twisted way. But man oh man do you have it wrong. Today a gentleman, perhaps an ungentleman, stuck his head out of his car window, eyed his prey, commonly known as me, and from his mouth sprang forth these words: "THERE IS A GOD!" All right, I mean, people yell weird things at me occasionally, but I don't think I've ever inspired pure, unadulterated faith. This being said, I should probably get myself to a nunnery. Okay, seriously, I know I'm too attractive to be a nun. Calm down. Alas, this brings me to my burning question: Am I a "Monet?" If you have ever seen the movie "Clueless," as I have more times than I can count, you will recall that the main character, Cher, classifies her arch nemesis, Amber, as a "Monet." In case you aren't hip to the Beverly Hills jive, a "Monet" is a lady who can only be admired from a distance because up close she is a big old mess. Although I think I'm just as lovely up close, perhaps I'm messy in a more figurative sense. Messy like complicated, as opposed to poorly dressed. I've concluded that I am in fact some breed of "Monet" because those from afar, like our newest member of the iheartgodclub, fear me not, but the nearer in proximity, the more fuzzy/splotchy/unclear things become. I find this revelation mighty fascinating and thought I'd share it. Basically, epiphanies are weird; that's all.
2.2.07
Phantom Punch
Sondre Lerche
Norwegian songbird Sondre Lerche unleashed his inner tough guy with his fourth studio album Phantom Punch. Although delectable theoretically, Lerche cannot hide that his caged beast is more housecat than wildcat.
“Airport Taxi Reception” is a promising opener, but Lerche’s signature airy vocals are drowned out, while his lyrics lack the quirky sincerity of previous efforts. Phantom Punch’s title track is uneventful, with Lerche ironically growling, “You don’t want to feel the phantom punch.” Unnatural howling and crunchy guitars plague “Face The Blood,” and Lerche ends up sounding more like Green Day than supposed inspiration Elvis Costello.
Within the awkwardness of Phantom Punch, there are glimpses of what Lerche does best. “After All” has a lilting melody and unassuming personality that feels like Two Way Monologues, and the gritty closer “Happy Birthday Girl” exemplifies what Phantom could have been. Nevertheless, these don’t suffice redemption and we don’t want to feel Lerche’s rushed and misguided Phantom Punch.
Friend and Foe
Menomena
Can anyone say no to a Muppet Show allusion? Menomena prove that it’s fundamentally impossible after listening to the groovy pop that saturates the Portland trio’s latest full-length Friend and Foe. The sound achieved is a more danceable Cursive fused with sexy saxophones and vocals reminiscent of a more distorted and breathy John Roderick, of Menomena’s Barsuk label mates The Long Winters.
“Muscle’n Flo” is Friend and Foe’s equivalent of a money shot: staccato drumming, delicate piano and muted coarse guitar melt into a sway-inducing blend of mysterious sweetness. “Boyscout’n” feels fresh, and, if whistling poses a daunting challenge, jealousy of those proficient will overcome you, because the melody is that catchy. Friend and Foe is a seamless expression, worthy of countless replays from start to finish.
Sondre Lerche
Norwegian songbird Sondre Lerche unleashed his inner tough guy with his fourth studio album Phantom Punch. Although delectable theoretically, Lerche cannot hide that his caged beast is more housecat than wildcat.
“Airport Taxi Reception” is a promising opener, but Lerche’s signature airy vocals are drowned out, while his lyrics lack the quirky sincerity of previous efforts. Phantom Punch’s title track is uneventful, with Lerche ironically growling, “You don’t want to feel the phantom punch.” Unnatural howling and crunchy guitars plague “Face The Blood,” and Lerche ends up sounding more like Green Day than supposed inspiration Elvis Costello.
Within the awkwardness of Phantom Punch, there are glimpses of what Lerche does best. “After All” has a lilting melody and unassuming personality that feels like Two Way Monologues, and the gritty closer “Happy Birthday Girl” exemplifies what Phantom could have been. Nevertheless, these don’t suffice redemption and we don’t want to feel Lerche’s rushed and misguided Phantom Punch.
Friend and Foe
Menomena
Can anyone say no to a Muppet Show allusion? Menomena prove that it’s fundamentally impossible after listening to the groovy pop that saturates the Portland trio’s latest full-length Friend and Foe. The sound achieved is a more danceable Cursive fused with sexy saxophones and vocals reminiscent of a more distorted and breathy John Roderick, of Menomena’s Barsuk label mates The Long Winters.
“Muscle’n Flo” is Friend and Foe’s equivalent of a money shot: staccato drumming, delicate piano and muted coarse guitar melt into a sway-inducing blend of mysterious sweetness. “Boyscout’n” feels fresh, and, if whistling poses a daunting challenge, jealousy of those proficient will overcome you, because the melody is that catchy. Friend and Foe is a seamless expression, worthy of countless replays from start to finish.
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