This is my first in hopefully a series of videos. I've found a lot to love in the local music scene recently. I've discovered and met many cool bands in the likes of the Black Cat Club, Rock n' Roll Hotel, and The Red and the Black. Some of them deserve a lot more exposure than they get, and I've always had a desire to help out by way of video projects. I saw the Takeaway Shows at Lo Blogotheque, and thought, hey, I have a camera, and a city, and some bands; why don't I do that?
Then finally I noticed a show coming up with Deleted Scenes, cool dudes and great musicians I'd met through mutual acquaintances in DC experimental band Bellflur. Dan of Deleted Scenes once described his band to me as "B-Side Rock," which almost fits if we're talking a B-sides to a band with many A-sides. I shot Dan a message... hey! let's make a video! tomorrow night! And to my pleasant surprise, he was totally down.
I watched through a great set from Deleted Scenes at The Red & The Black, and then stuck around through headliners The Oranges Band. Afterward, I found Dan and Deleted Scenes bassist Fatty, and we gathared shakers and an acoustic guitar. Downstairs we met up with drummer Brian and guitarist Sheffey. We went outside, and after finding a light spot and deciding on banging shoes together for a bass drum, created a video of the song Ithaca. It's definitely very different from how it's normally played: no tight-as-anything tom tom drum beat, no smooth vibraphone sounds from the keyboard, no subtle delay on the guitar, no driving bassline reprises. Instead, hands banging on a guitar case, a shaker taking center stage, and the entire band singing doo-doo-doos to replace a missing bass.
The result is a cool little video, aside from the random drunken stranger interrupting to ask if the band is from a place he associates with shoe clapping, and a solo ruined by cold, cold hands. Random crowds and photographers, an on-duty police officer, and the lights of the city on a saturday night combine to make it a performance that is spontaneous and fun. I hope you enjoy it:
Deleted Scenes - Ithaca from Ben Rowny on Vimeo.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
The Wax Standard and Birdlips at Galaxy Hut
My amigo Alan and I went to see his friend's band, The Wax Standard, at the Galaxy Hut in Clarendon on monday night. I'd never been to Galaxy Hut before... the place is small, seems like a good quality neighborhood bar. If I lived in Arlington it'd probably become one of my hangouts. This night, it was absolutely packed to capacity (a whopping 48 persons according to the fire-safety sign), plenty in for the show. We entered as the second act of the night, Birdlips, were in the earliest part of their set. I'm going to get back to them in a moment, but first, the show we were there for was The Wax Standard.
The Wax Standard is a, well, pretty standard (ahem, sorry) four-piece centered around singer/songwriter Arranaga. Two guitars, bass, and drums, all of them pretty good at what they do, none shining as absolutely incredible. Their rock songs tended to follow the standard formula: verse, chorus, verse, chorus, solo, chorus. They were throughly listenable and I enjoyed their set, but not enough to go out and buy a Wax Standard t-shirt or make a note of going out of my way for their next show. I'm guessing they all have day jobs, and their band is doing exactly what it wants: get together, make some music, and play out locally. They're doin' it right, packing the Galaxy Hut full, but not seeming to aspire to the bigger venues or a national tour or anything. The fact that it is music made purely for enjoyment and creative outlet, completely without pretension, makes them equally enjoyable to listen to even if I was slightly bored by the predictable song structures and the frequency and similarity of the lead guitarist's solos.
Opening for them was Charlottesville-based indie rockers Birdlips, who, quite frankly, just about floored me. There's two of them, a girl and a guy, Lindsay and Cliff according to their myspace page. Lindsay plays keys and tambourine and sings backup while Cliff does his thing with a twelve-string guitar, an arrangement of pedals and loopers, and a soulful voice that seems too full for a dude so scrawny and young. Although every song shared a similar palette, each had a different feel, and they all felt sincere. I'd call their music very pretty, almost beautiful, earnest and heartfelt, maybe even delicate, though the sometimes sudden counterpoints on the keys or percussion loops from the pedalboard served to break it up just enough to keep the audience on their toes. And you can't help but stop and stare when the stage is occupied by a pretty girl with witty bangs, a floral dress and a tambourine, and the tallest lankiest dude you ever saw seemingly pouring his entire self right out into the microphone. They're young, fresh out of college, and their writing is smart, so I'm hoping very much to see and hear more of Birdlips in the future, and in the meantime, I'm really enjoying listening to their debut album Cardboard Wings. And you should listen, too!
The Wax Standard is a, well, pretty standard (ahem, sorry) four-piece centered around singer/songwriter Arranaga. Two guitars, bass, and drums, all of them pretty good at what they do, none shining as absolutely incredible. Their rock songs tended to follow the standard formula: verse, chorus, verse, chorus, solo, chorus. They were throughly listenable and I enjoyed their set, but not enough to go out and buy a Wax Standard t-shirt or make a note of going out of my way for their next show. I'm guessing they all have day jobs, and their band is doing exactly what it wants: get together, make some music, and play out locally. They're doin' it right, packing the Galaxy Hut full, but not seeming to aspire to the bigger venues or a national tour or anything. The fact that it is music made purely for enjoyment and creative outlet, completely without pretension, makes them equally enjoyable to listen to even if I was slightly bored by the predictable song structures and the frequency and similarity of the lead guitarist's solos.
Opening for them was Charlottesville-based indie rockers Birdlips, who, quite frankly, just about floored me. There's two of them, a girl and a guy, Lindsay and Cliff according to their myspace page. Lindsay plays keys and tambourine and sings backup while Cliff does his thing with a twelve-string guitar, an arrangement of pedals and loopers, and a soulful voice that seems too full for a dude so scrawny and young. Although every song shared a similar palette, each had a different feel, and they all felt sincere. I'd call their music very pretty, almost beautiful, earnest and heartfelt, maybe even delicate, though the sometimes sudden counterpoints on the keys or percussion loops from the pedalboard served to break it up just enough to keep the audience on their toes. And you can't help but stop and stare when the stage is occupied by a pretty girl with witty bangs, a floral dress and a tambourine, and the tallest lankiest dude you ever saw seemingly pouring his entire self right out into the microphone. They're young, fresh out of college, and their writing is smart, so I'm hoping very much to see and hear more of Birdlips in the future, and in the meantime, I'm really enjoying listening to their debut album Cardboard Wings. And you should listen, too!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Sloan w/ The Golden Dogs
It's weird to go into Washington DC's Black Cat club while it's still light outside. For me, anyway. I thought I was late, showing up at nearly 8:00 for a show w/ doors at 7. I was almost later, until I realized that yellow line and green line trains run on the SAME TRACKS for the portion of the green line I needed to take. Anyway, the show was delayed til 7:50, so that everyone outside enjoying the beautiful weather would have a little more chance to do so before rocking out.
The opening act was The Golden Dogs, who I'd never heard before in my life. They are a indie-rock/powerpop quartet from Toronto, Canada. The club hadn't filled up at all at this point, and it is strange to watch a band with only a handful of people around. Still, they were in to it. So into it that the guitarist broke 2 strings by the end of the second song. They played pretty much nonstop, even with the string snafu. The guitarist effortlessly dug through his gear and replaced strings while the rest of the band jammed on a piano/bass/drums piece effortlessly. They had me smiling, for sure. Rather than "witty" banter or introducing every single song, Golden Dogs played straight through, and instead put up cards with the titles of the songs on a stand in front of the keyboards. It was a good mix, and they played with the passion of a band that plays with so much passion that they break stuff. Not only were two strings snapped, but the drummer apparently kicked right through the head on the bass drum. Sloan's bass drum. So they apologized, and skipped out on their last song. I actually would have liked to have heard one more, because they were fun, but you gotta do what you gotta do...
A couple beers and a replaced drum-head later, and Sloan took the stage. Considering these guys have been at it for something like 16 years, Sloan absolutely rock. Sloan played a mix of songs from their entire career, which I am unfortunately way not familiar enough with. The guitarist, drummer, and bassist rotated instruments (bass to drums, drums to guitar, guitar to bass) and used that alternate arrangement for about a third of their songs.
Sloan has 4 principal songwriters, any of the four of them may be taking lead vocals on any given song, and any instrument could be playing the melody or harmony or rhythm as well. They played well, and they played hard, and they played loud. Like The Golden Dogs before them, Sloan played almost nonstop, but as the set progressed a little more banter made its way in. When they traded instruments, their merch guy came over the PA with fake radio announcements, which kept everything moving as Sloan muscled through their set which must've been at least 20, maybe 25 songs long. Sloan were very open to requests, too, though didn't necessarily play every one. At one point they played an old, unrehearsed song when an audience member offered them 20 bucks to do it. Then they said their performance of the song was only worth $12.50. "At this rate, we might break even on this tour." hah. It's really great to watch a band passionate about what they do, really tearing it up and having fun.
I like to call Sloan "good time rock n' roll," because, really, it's the kind of rock that just makes you think, this is good times. And the Sloan show, well that's good times too.
The opening act was The Golden Dogs, who I'd never heard before in my life. They are a indie-rock/powerpop quartet from Toronto, Canada. The club hadn't filled up at all at this point, and it is strange to watch a band with only a handful of people around. Still, they were in to it. So into it that the guitarist broke 2 strings by the end of the second song. They played pretty much nonstop, even with the string snafu. The guitarist effortlessly dug through his gear and replaced strings while the rest of the band jammed on a piano/bass/drums piece effortlessly. They had me smiling, for sure. Rather than "witty" banter or introducing every single song, Golden Dogs played straight through, and instead put up cards with the titles of the songs on a stand in front of the keyboards. It was a good mix, and they played with the passion of a band that plays with so much passion that they break stuff. Not only were two strings snapped, but the drummer apparently kicked right through the head on the bass drum. Sloan's bass drum. So they apologized, and skipped out on their last song. I actually would have liked to have heard one more, because they were fun, but you gotta do what you gotta do...
A couple beers and a replaced drum-head later, and Sloan took the stage. Considering these guys have been at it for something like 16 years, Sloan absolutely rock. Sloan played a mix of songs from their entire career, which I am unfortunately way not familiar enough with. The guitarist, drummer, and bassist rotated instruments (bass to drums, drums to guitar, guitar to bass) and used that alternate arrangement for about a third of their songs.
Sloan has 4 principal songwriters, any of the four of them may be taking lead vocals on any given song, and any instrument could be playing the melody or harmony or rhythm as well. They played well, and they played hard, and they played loud. Like The Golden Dogs before them, Sloan played almost nonstop, but as the set progressed a little more banter made its way in. When they traded instruments, their merch guy came over the PA with fake radio announcements, which kept everything moving as Sloan muscled through their set which must've been at least 20, maybe 25 songs long. Sloan were very open to requests, too, though didn't necessarily play every one. At one point they played an old, unrehearsed song when an audience member offered them 20 bucks to do it. Then they said their performance of the song was only worth $12.50. "At this rate, we might break even on this tour." hah. It's really great to watch a band passionate about what they do, really tearing it up and having fun. I like to call Sloan "good time rock n' roll," because, really, it's the kind of rock that just makes you think, this is good times. And the Sloan show, well that's good times too.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
REM+Modest Mouse (+The National, sorta)
This blog entry will be divided into two parts. Part one is called I'm An Idiot and part two is called REM Still Got It Going On.
Part the First: I'm An Idiot
As soon as tickets went on sale for the REM/Modest Mouse/The National show, I immediately bought two in the pavilion. Because, you know, I have plenty of friends who like REM and/or Modest Mouse and/or The National, and who wants to sit back in the lawn, right? Well, apparently the answer is all the friends I knew who were going (namely Jill + Afton). Also apparently all my close friends who would probably take that second ticket because they love bands like REM, Modest Mouse, and the National live far, far away. Far away like upstate new york. Far away like Canada. Far away like the effin' United Kingdom. Far away like shit, what am I going to do with this other ticket?
Turns out my "other roommate" Colin has pretty good taste in music and a new job, so day of the show, he's like, yeah dude, let's go. Which is all well and good. We set out at about 4pm which leaves plenty of time to get to the show, right? Show's at 7:30, right? So much time that hey, we can swing by Silver Spring and carpool it up w/ Afton, save some gas save the planet right? Half a mile down the road I realized I left my tickets at home. Turned around, grabbed tickets, hit the bank, hit the gas station, hit the beltway.
Fuck the beltway.
Seriously. I keep dreaming of a world where everyone is friendly, everyone lets exactly one person merge ahead of them, stays traveling at a near-constant rate, reads and follows all road signs, etc etc. Even in that world traffic probably would have only been slightly better. So the expectation of getting to Silver Spring at 4:45 turned into more like 5:30. Okay. Still plenty of time. We hop in Afton's car and set out north on Rt. 29. And halfway to the venue I realize I've forgotten the tickets, yet again, this time in my car. I'm a moron. Why wouldn't I just put them in my pocket? Because I'm a idiot that's why.
So with all that, and traffic of course, we finally park and get to the venue at almost 7:00... which wouldn't be a problem except it turns out that the show started at 6:30, not 7:30. So we basically missed all of The National's set, save for most of "Mister November" while we were walking into the venue. Well, the one song sounded pretty good. Guh.
Interlude: Modest Mouse + Power Trippin' Security Guards.
A beer and a hot dog later, Modest Mouse take the stage. Colin and I head down to the pavilion where our seats are. Modest Mouse were pretty good. I heard somewhere that Johnny Marr and Isaac Brock hate each other? Well... they were standing on like opposite sides of the stage. Their set was heavy on the new stuff, which is good, because their old stuff is okay but a little... angry/abrasive. Except they played that one cool song that my little brother used to put on all the time. I don't remember the name of it. For some reason I imagined Isaac Brock is a skinny, angry motherfucker. He didn't seem like any of those things; just a bearded indie rock n roller. OK. But here's the most important thing that happened during the Modest Mouse set: A dude stood up 2 rows in front of us. In the row behind us, there was a woman the size of a house standing up and dancing as much as her elephant legs would allow, and a drunk-ass frat boy 10 rows down was standing, dancing, and drinking near the aisle, and so dude 2 rows in front of us thought it would be cool if he stood up and rocked out with Modest Mouse too.
This is apparently not cool according to Merriweather Post Pavilion. A security dude who looked more like a gym coach came down and asked the dude to sit down. Dude was like, why? Security guy was all "sit down you're blocking people's views." Admittedly, Standing Up Dude was a tall-ass SOB and I did have to crane my neck just slightly to still get a perfect view of the stage and both jumbotrons, but I didn't really mind. But the security guy would have his way, and Standing Up Dude became Sitting Down Unhappily Dude. He turned around to see just whose view he was blocking, and I was all like, "stand up, dude, I don't care." as were most of the people around us. So he stood back up, and continued with the head-nodding half-dancing rocking out to Modest Mouse. Until the security guard came back and told him to sit down again. Standing Up Dude made reference to the fact that everyone behind him didn't care, and in fact there was a drunk guy standing/dancing 10 rows in front and a woman the size of a house standing and shuffling just a few rows behind. Apparently that only triggered security guard's power trip harder, and he threatened to eject Standing Up Dude if he didn't sit back down. So he sat back down, but all of us in the rows behind him saw this, remembered that this is a Rock n' Roll Show (aka not the Opera), and stood up, in solidarity. Standing Up Dude stood back up, and we all rocked out to the last couple songs of MM's set content with the knowledge that if security guard tried to power trip again, he'd be dealing with a dozen fine patrons, not just one, and that means a dozen complaints and probably the loss of a job. And then he'd have to go back to teaching gym. Fuck you power-tripping security guard.
Part the Second: REM Still Got It Going On
Some more hanging out on the lawn, then Afton and Colin switched places as we headed down to the Pavilion to watch R.E.M. For a band that's been at it since, what, the early 80's, they really, really rock. It actually doesn't feel like old at all. I feel like most bands that were big in the 80's/early 90's, if you went to their show now, it would feel trite... a rehash... Somehow R.E.M. actually felt fresh. Michael Stipe's stage presence is absolutely amazing. The set was really varied. They played songs off of probably every album, and songs off their newest, Accelerate, fit in perfectly with songs dating back to 1988. Some of the best tracks off the new album, including Living Well is the Best Revenge, Hollow Man, and Houston. An interesting, politically charged 3-song set of Ignoreland, Man-Sized Wreath, and Little America which Stipe introduced as being all about Washington, DC. Bassist Mike Mills took over on lead vocals for Don't Go Back to Rockville, and Johnny Marr joined the group for the end of the encore: Fall On Me and Man On The Moon. The set was interspersed with other classics including Electrolite, The One I Love, and Orange Crush, and I was taken aback by how absolutely fantastic Losing My Religion was.
Stipe laid heavy on the politics throughout the set. He made comments about despising the government for over half his life, disparaged Dick Cheney, and pulled out Barack Obama button to show his support during the encore. Most of the audience was fine with this, cheering even, but of course being so very close to the south and being oh so close to George W Bush's current residence, there was a little backlash, even some booing. To the dudes booing Barack Obama: what the fuck? You're gonna pay $75 to see a band whose lead singer is quite open about his queerness and then boo the Presidential Candidate that isn't slapping gay rights in the face? I don't care if you're for McCain, or still holding out for Ron Paul, or whatever, but this might be the time and place to keep your mouth shut.
Other than that, and my fuckup getting to the venue, it was a great show. A triple-bill like this doesn't come around every day, and I just wish I'd been less of an idiot so we could've made it for all of The National's set too. Well, there's always next time...
Part the First: I'm An Idiot
As soon as tickets went on sale for the REM/Modest Mouse/The National show, I immediately bought two in the pavilion. Because, you know, I have plenty of friends who like REM and/or Modest Mouse and/or The National, and who wants to sit back in the lawn, right? Well, apparently the answer is all the friends I knew who were going (namely Jill + Afton). Also apparently all my close friends who would probably take that second ticket because they love bands like REM, Modest Mouse, and the National live far, far away. Far away like upstate new york. Far away like Canada. Far away like the effin' United Kingdom. Far away like shit, what am I going to do with this other ticket?
Turns out my "other roommate" Colin has pretty good taste in music and a new job, so day of the show, he's like, yeah dude, let's go. Which is all well and good. We set out at about 4pm which leaves plenty of time to get to the show, right? Show's at 7:30, right? So much time that hey, we can swing by Silver Spring and carpool it up w/ Afton, save some gas save the planet right? Half a mile down the road I realized I left my tickets at home. Turned around, grabbed tickets, hit the bank, hit the gas station, hit the beltway.
Fuck the beltway.
Seriously. I keep dreaming of a world where everyone is friendly, everyone lets exactly one person merge ahead of them, stays traveling at a near-constant rate, reads and follows all road signs, etc etc. Even in that world traffic probably would have only been slightly better. So the expectation of getting to Silver Spring at 4:45 turned into more like 5:30. Okay. Still plenty of time. We hop in Afton's car and set out north on Rt. 29. And halfway to the venue I realize I've forgotten the tickets, yet again, this time in my car. I'm a moron. Why wouldn't I just put them in my pocket? Because I'm a idiot that's why.
So with all that, and traffic of course, we finally park and get to the venue at almost 7:00... which wouldn't be a problem except it turns out that the show started at 6:30, not 7:30. So we basically missed all of The National's set, save for most of "Mister November" while we were walking into the venue. Well, the one song sounded pretty good. Guh.
Interlude: Modest Mouse + Power Trippin' Security Guards.
A beer and a hot dog later, Modest Mouse take the stage. Colin and I head down to the pavilion where our seats are. Modest Mouse were pretty good. I heard somewhere that Johnny Marr and Isaac Brock hate each other? Well... they were standing on like opposite sides of the stage. Their set was heavy on the new stuff, which is good, because their old stuff is okay but a little... angry/abrasive. Except they played that one cool song that my little brother used to put on all the time. I don't remember the name of it. For some reason I imagined Isaac Brock is a skinny, angry motherfucker. He didn't seem like any of those things; just a bearded indie rock n roller. OK. But here's the most important thing that happened during the Modest Mouse set: A dude stood up 2 rows in front of us. In the row behind us, there was a woman the size of a house standing up and dancing as much as her elephant legs would allow, and a drunk-ass frat boy 10 rows down was standing, dancing, and drinking near the aisle, and so dude 2 rows in front of us thought it would be cool if he stood up and rocked out with Modest Mouse too.
This is apparently not cool according to Merriweather Post Pavilion. A security dude who looked more like a gym coach came down and asked the dude to sit down. Dude was like, why? Security guy was all "sit down you're blocking people's views." Admittedly, Standing Up Dude was a tall-ass SOB and I did have to crane my neck just slightly to still get a perfect view of the stage and both jumbotrons, but I didn't really mind. But the security guy would have his way, and Standing Up Dude became Sitting Down Unhappily Dude. He turned around to see just whose view he was blocking, and I was all like, "stand up, dude, I don't care." as were most of the people around us. So he stood back up, and continued with the head-nodding half-dancing rocking out to Modest Mouse. Until the security guard came back and told him to sit down again. Standing Up Dude made reference to the fact that everyone behind him didn't care, and in fact there was a drunk guy standing/dancing 10 rows in front and a woman the size of a house standing and shuffling just a few rows behind. Apparently that only triggered security guard's power trip harder, and he threatened to eject Standing Up Dude if he didn't sit back down. So he sat back down, but all of us in the rows behind him saw this, remembered that this is a Rock n' Roll Show (aka not the Opera), and stood up, in solidarity. Standing Up Dude stood back up, and we all rocked out to the last couple songs of MM's set content with the knowledge that if security guard tried to power trip again, he'd be dealing with a dozen fine patrons, not just one, and that means a dozen complaints and probably the loss of a job. And then he'd have to go back to teaching gym. Fuck you power-tripping security guard.
Part the Second: REM Still Got It Going On
Some more hanging out on the lawn, then Afton and Colin switched places as we headed down to the Pavilion to watch R.E.M. For a band that's been at it since, what, the early 80's, they really, really rock. It actually doesn't feel like old at all. I feel like most bands that were big in the 80's/early 90's, if you went to their show now, it would feel trite... a rehash... Somehow R.E.M. actually felt fresh. Michael Stipe's stage presence is absolutely amazing. The set was really varied. They played songs off of probably every album, and songs off their newest, Accelerate, fit in perfectly with songs dating back to 1988. Some of the best tracks off the new album, including Living Well is the Best Revenge, Hollow Man, and Houston. An interesting, politically charged 3-song set of Ignoreland, Man-Sized Wreath, and Little America which Stipe introduced as being all about Washington, DC. Bassist Mike Mills took over on lead vocals for Don't Go Back to Rockville, and Johnny Marr joined the group for the end of the encore: Fall On Me and Man On The Moon. The set was interspersed with other classics including Electrolite, The One I Love, and Orange Crush, and I was taken aback by how absolutely fantastic Losing My Religion was.
Stipe laid heavy on the politics throughout the set. He made comments about despising the government for over half his life, disparaged Dick Cheney, and pulled out Barack Obama button to show his support during the encore. Most of the audience was fine with this, cheering even, but of course being so very close to the south and being oh so close to George W Bush's current residence, there was a little backlash, even some booing. To the dudes booing Barack Obama: what the fuck? You're gonna pay $75 to see a band whose lead singer is quite open about his queerness and then boo the Presidential Candidate that isn't slapping gay rights in the face? I don't care if you're for McCain, or still holding out for Ron Paul, or whatever, but this might be the time and place to keep your mouth shut.
Other than that, and my fuckup getting to the venue, it was a great show. A triple-bill like this doesn't come around every day, and I just wish I'd been less of an idiot so we could've made it for all of The National's set too. Well, there's always next time...
Sunday, January 27, 2008
A change, and Cornelius
Alright. This Blog is officially no longer strictly a blog about my travels because, let's face it, I haven't gone anywhere too recently. So, since it has already often been about live music, it will now also officially be about Live Music as well. And the most recent show I went to was Cornelius at the 9:30 Club.
The Cornelius Group: Sensuous Synchronized Show
Initially I wasn't sure about this show. I only even first listened to Cornelius because my friend Stef had plans to go to the upcoming show at 9:30 and needed someone to go with, so she sent me some tracks. I took a liking to it rather quickly. Cornelius, aka basically the solo act of Keigo Oyamada, is often described as the Japanese version of Beck. I think that's a pretty accurate description, actually. Both dabble heavily in the experimental, electronic, and production sides of their music, but have heavy influences in the music that surrounds them in their unique cultures. Cornelius delivers sounds that vary from pleasant acoustic twangs to borderline video game music to heavy metal to just plain weirdness, and every bit of it is sonically delicious.
The big question was: would he deliver the goods live? With his Cornelius Group and a Sensuous Synchronized Show in tow, I can attest that he did, way more than I expected. For starters, the music was every bit as engaging and listenable live as on record, and didn't have to skimp at all. Armed with guitars, basses, keyboards, chimes, drums, and theremins, Oyamada and his band reproduced the fine details of Cornelius' catchy numbers, and with good presentation: matching outfits, a nonstop pace, and even some very ingenious crowd participation. One of the greatest moments was when Oyamada pulled an audience member up on stage and use him as a prop to work the theremin (an instrument which changes and volume pitch based on how far an inductive object such as a human limb is from its antennae). Another part had the audience deciding how many beats the band should hit during a breakdown, and yet another allowed audience members to play a sampler. Good times.
All this alone would be impressive, but true to the presentation's name, it was a real Sensuous (and Synchronized) show! As the band played, synchronized film clips were projected behind them. Yeah, yeah, everyone's seen bands with projected visuals. But not like this. The clips started out interesting but and well-fitting but ultimately not amazing. However, each new song carried with it a new experiment in filming technique, animation, compositing, editing. A couple songs had drips of paint moving, appearing, and disappearing in sync with different instruments. Others provided perfectly timed trips through the highways and railways of tokyo, and yet others experimented with every light in an apartment, moving and flashing to the beat while electric exposures danced around them. As a casual viewer I would've been overjoyed. As a former film student, I was amazed, intrigued, and impressed. The best part was, in time with the lights and the band, it all came together: The music and the musicians on stage, the lights behind and on them, the projections at the back. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Incredible.
I don't know if I've even been to any other shows so far this year. It doesn't matter. Cornelius is going to be somewhere on my best of 2008, and twenty-oh-eight's barely just begun!
The Cornelius Group: Sensuous Synchronized Show
Initially I wasn't sure about this show. I only even first listened to Cornelius because my friend Stef had plans to go to the upcoming show at 9:30 and needed someone to go with, so she sent me some tracks. I took a liking to it rather quickly. Cornelius, aka basically the solo act of Keigo Oyamada, is often described as the Japanese version of Beck. I think that's a pretty accurate description, actually. Both dabble heavily in the experimental, electronic, and production sides of their music, but have heavy influences in the music that surrounds them in their unique cultures. Cornelius delivers sounds that vary from pleasant acoustic twangs to borderline video game music to heavy metal to just plain weirdness, and every bit of it is sonically delicious.
The big question was: would he deliver the goods live? With his Cornelius Group and a Sensuous Synchronized Show in tow, I can attest that he did, way more than I expected. For starters, the music was every bit as engaging and listenable live as on record, and didn't have to skimp at all. Armed with guitars, basses, keyboards, chimes, drums, and theremins, Oyamada and his band reproduced the fine details of Cornelius' catchy numbers, and with good presentation: matching outfits, a nonstop pace, and even some very ingenious crowd participation. One of the greatest moments was when Oyamada pulled an audience member up on stage and use him as a prop to work the theremin (an instrument which changes and volume pitch based on how far an inductive object such as a human limb is from its antennae). Another part had the audience deciding how many beats the band should hit during a breakdown, and yet another allowed audience members to play a sampler. Good times.
All this alone would be impressive, but true to the presentation's name, it was a real Sensuous (and Synchronized) show! As the band played, synchronized film clips were projected behind them. Yeah, yeah, everyone's seen bands with projected visuals. But not like this. The clips started out interesting but and well-fitting but ultimately not amazing. However, each new song carried with it a new experiment in filming technique, animation, compositing, editing. A couple songs had drips of paint moving, appearing, and disappearing in sync with different instruments. Others provided perfectly timed trips through the highways and railways of tokyo, and yet others experimented with every light in an apartment, moving and flashing to the beat while electric exposures danced around them. As a casual viewer I would've been overjoyed. As a former film student, I was amazed, intrigued, and impressed. The best part was, in time with the lights and the band, it all came together: The music and the musicians on stage, the lights behind and on them, the projections at the back. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Incredible.I don't know if I've even been to any other shows so far this year. It doesn't matter. Cornelius is going to be somewhere on my best of 2008, and twenty-oh-eight's barely just begun!
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Sunday, September 30, 2007
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