jaymay, bowery ballroom, 06.10.2008

last night was the first time i went out to a concert in months, but i made sure that it was a good one: jaymay at bowery ballroom. it was to be her last "real" concert (she's opening for fink for a few dates this summer) until the autumn, and she was so very happy to be playing it in new york. i was happy, too.

she began right away with "song for paul," which no longer played as a sad, haunting lullaby for her lost friend, was quite aggressive and raw. i'd have to say that the switch from the fragile airiness to the more full-on, forward sound of "song for paul" paralleled nicely with the change jaymay has made to her presence as well. one thing i noticed immediately was that she was considerably more comfortable on stage, and much more relaxed, than when i had last seen her. i chalk it up to recording an album and touring in several countries that has helped her find her place on stage. she was silly, playful, interacted with audience, and asked us to interact with her, as we doo-doo-doo'd and sang a few choruses. she played the the well-known songs, sprinkling in a few unknowns from her new ep, 10 under 2, which are 10 songs, all under 2 minutes. they were short, sweet, and lovely.

near the end of the concert, after she finished up a song, i heard her holler to the back of the stage, "mr kevin devine!" my heart stopped, could it be? the pairing i had always put in my head but could never foresee in real life? and then it happened, it was true! -- kevin devine* came out on stage, and duetted with her on "you are the only one i love." a true experience that i am so glad i was able to take in.

finally, after over an hour of jaymay's best, she stepped away from the mic, stood at the edge of stage, and demanded that everyone learn the chorus to "tragedy," as it was our final performance of the night as well. after 4 tries to get everyone in sync, she noted that the press in the audience might write down in their reviews that she wasn't taking her "job" seriously enough. she shrugged an "oh well," stuck out her tongue, and swung into the first verse of the song. tired and wiped out after giving it her all, she exited the stage with a demure bow, and the lights went up. no encore this time, but after such an intense and endearing hour, i held no qualms about it. it was a magical night for one and all.


*for those not in the know, kevin devine is another brooklyn-based singer/songwriter, who happens to have close ties with jesse lacey of brand new (they will even be touring together this summer). i have a huge music crush on him. for proof, see here.

peter gabriel is no n00b to teh interwubz

http://www.iht.com/articles/ap/2008/06/02/arts/Music-Peter-Gabriel.php

granted, thefilter.com isn't especially heavy-hitting, but it's a nifty, if not completely original, idea (i mean, i do this kind of thing on netflix and last.fm all the time). i'm sure it will get plenty of traffic if marketed correctly, which it will be because of the name behind it.

my biggest suggestion/criticism is that they spread out the genres a little more. select rock/pop and they offer me a sliding scale of greenday, u2, and blink182? no thank you. does rock/pop even really exist anymore, other than in the top 40? it seems like all the cool music, or at least the geeks that drool over it, tend to have slightly more obscure labels these days, if any -- and in essence, aren't these the people that pg wants to lure to his site for recommendations? people who don't listen to u2? who needs to be prescribed blink182 to flesh out their itunes? and besides, "rock/pop" is sooooo 90's-columbia-house-susbcription. i would expect better of a site associated with mr. gabriel, who is weird and esoteric in his own right. somehow not even his music seems to fit within the confines of his site's categorization.

i know, i know, pg also co-founded od2, so i suppose once they get the kinks worked out, thefilter.com could become a much better, more specified site, but i still think it has awhile to go before anything crucial comes of it. i'll just sign up now and hope for the best later.

austin in a nutshull

11 days in austin for sxsw was a little of this:

a little of this:

...and a little of this:




\m/ rawk \m/



*more details at a later date*

/jen/

i never got to finish this

i wrote this around two weeks ago:

title: we sleep inside this machine: brand new's the devil and god are raging inside me

i can dish it out, but can i take it?
i received the above-noted album a week ago and have been listening nonstop since then, but i've been hesitant to put anything down because i'm not quite sure what to make of it. there is no doubt that this album is something that i'm positive i've never heard before in my short lifespan--there is no doubt i'm obsessed-- but i'm not clear on the direction of my approach. do i break it down according to technicalities: songs, lyrics, occasional emotional phrase thrown in? try to sell the album even though anyone who would be remotely interested in hearing it already has it? or do i instead take it from a personal perspective, try to read into the themes i see apparent throughout? do i make this a review or a thesis? does it really matter?

thematically so
at first glance, it all seems a little surreal. guitars swirl, screams penetrate the orchestral waves from track to track, melodies haunt, and there is practically no explanation behind it all; the album artwork is hazy, the notes are stream of consciousness, and there are no lyrics provided. but despite the initial ambiguity, it somehow all ties together. the devil and god is ridiculously cohesive, with fundamental motifs running throughout, not only musically, but lyrically and atmospherically. it's not that the songs sound the same, because each is its own unique existence, but they all sound right together-- as though they are chapters in a novel, or marks on timeline. they follow the same path, and i'm not sure i have experienced a concept so subtle on an album before.

it's an understatement to call the devil and god "dark." brand new have outdone themselves on making sure that their third work is groundbreakingly, palpably dripping with teh heavy. disregard the basic sentiment that comes with the religious thematics present in the blood black landscape mr. lacey and his crew have put forth: this shit is catholic with guilt. i'm not talking new age contemporary catholicism, i'm not even talking inquisition in 15th century spain-- this is pre-augustine, this is primal. the two images that have been racing through my mind everytime i put my headphones on are "the fall" and "the rise."

that's as far as i got, even though i had a lot more to say. the album was too overwhelming to dig into for long periods of time. i found myself burying six feet under. it's a fucking fantastic piece of work, and everyone should listen to it at least once, even if it's not their thing.

but it was too much. it was just too fucking much.



"the rise" and "the fall"
tonight i saw brand new at madison sq garden. i was warned that seeing a band i loved and had grown up with at such a venue would only ruin it for me, but msg didn't earn the right to that particular title. i'm not sure if there even was anything to ruin, but something was definitely lost this evening, and it was probably my trust.

in july, brand new had all the potential to take over the world, or at least make it a little better for some people. when i heard their new stuff back then, i thought it would be a second coming. i new that they were nurturing, developing, and polishing their talent to the point of complete and utter harmony, even within dis- and a-harmony, and i had hoped that this would grow and mature to the point of absolute awesome. then i heard the album and was so wrapped up in the complexity and delicate structure within the heavily laden, dark atmospheric sound that i failed to pinpoint what was actually going on.

something went terribly wrong tonight. i'm not sure what it was, nor am i going to make assumptions on here about the physical, emotional, or mental state of those i put the responsibility on, but this was not what i was expecting. maybe the devil and god was a little too much for everyone.

i know i can get a little creepy with the whole uber-fan personality, but first and foremost, i have always respected this group as musicians, artists, and intelligent people. they have god-given talent, otherwise i wouldn't bother. but it was off tonight, off in a big way. and looking back on what i've been listening to these past few weeks, it makes me rethink everything. yes, the record is beautifully crafted. yes, it's nothing like anything i've heard. but there is something very, very dark underlying it all. terribly so. and i think a little bit of that came out tonight. it bared its ugly teeth and it let a few people down, myself included.

maybe i was a fool to pay 35-odd bucks to see a band who had mainly played small spaces open at a landmark spot, but i didn't care about the price-- i was hoping for a little more maturity, since the recorded music suggested it. i guess we still have more growing up to do.

anyway, due to tonight's event, i need to do a lot of thinking and figure a few things out. this blog will probably go on hiatus until i know what it is i really want to do, because as of right now, i don't even know why i bother at all. lately, people in this field are really starting to leave me disillusioned, even if i may love what it produces. i hope they can prove me wrong.

with that, i salute. goodnight and godspeed.

/jen/

generals & majors, sin-e, 11.10.06

who says rock n roll is dead?
after having a few brewskies with a pal down on ludlow friday night, i made my way to attorney to check out a benefit for the ulman fund at sin-e. when i came in, the spies were about to make their way up on stage. they were a lot of fun, and definitely had the "bop to pop rock" skillz that we all love to see. but was i there to see the spies?

au contraire, mes petits enfants. i was here for nothing other than dirty, sweaty, crunchy grit. rock out with your (non-existant) cock out? yes please. well, generals & majors serve it all up for you, with testosterone-laden, smack-you-sassy savoir faire. want to sample? check out "every night's a bust in new york city" and "a little lit." do you know how long it's been since i was able to participate in something like that? i'm so encrusted in emo, indie, and synth rock that it's a breath of fresh air to see a lead singer take off his shirt off and flail about on the stage. my emo boys are too waifish and self-conscious for such exhibitionism.

was i that girl in the front totally freaking out next to a head-banging companion? did i wink at a few of the band members? yes, yes, and yes to me pumping my fist in the air. afterwards we all went to 151 rivington and got silly.

if you're wondering, it was a really fucking good night.


/jen/

street to nowhere: endearingly maladroit

as mentioned a few posts back, i went to see the format at irving plaza. they had quite a queue of artists playing before them, two of which were anathallo and rainer maria. i was lucky enough to get there early to catch the very first act that night, a band by le nom de notre temps existentiel, street to nowhere, from oakland, ca. i was instantly won over; despite being a starter, they had the audience by the throat-- myself included. considerably intrigued by their overtly honest lyrics mixed with a great acoustic quality and a nervously angsty voice ringing it all true through the speakers, i vowed that i would get to know this band.

granted, it took me awhile. everyone ended up at shades of green, and i shared a few compliments and some eye contact with the band members. yet, i never really bothered to get more of an impression on them, even though i thought they were pretty cool guys. it wasn't until i bought a ticket to an upcoming kevin devine show that i recalled them. as they were playing on this bill as well, i decided to take up my past initiative and buy their album.

best.decision.ever.

charmingly awkward has been playing non-stop since i received it last week. the songs are simple enough to catch the minimalist in me, but occasionally it will break into ecstatic ballad vocals and rock-out riffs that get me soaring at the same time. ranging from self-loathing to humourously self-deprecating to political, the songs broach quite a few topics, although it mainly centers around booze, sex (or the lack-thereof), and, of course, being charmingly awkward.

yeah, i definitely know what that's like.

if you feel the need to see what's up, check out "boxcars boxcars boxcars," on their myspace page, as it gives a pretty good idea of what this group is about. while each song is my favourite in its own little way, the tracks i have had on repeat consistently are "waste my life for you" for its cheeky chasing amy potential, and "you can't go to sleep" which is bordering on 20-something-emotionless-revulsion... but that's how we do. however, you'll have to shell out some dough and support these guys to here those. so go do that. right now.

they'll be back in nyc come december, playing with matt pond pa, kevin devine, and straylight run at bowery. buy a ticket. support a band (or four). hang out with me. i'll buy you a beer and probably sing some lyrics in your face. sounds good, right?

mayhaps i'll see you there.

/jen/

virginfest, 09.23.06, baltimore, md

"remember when we covered this song in camp and made a few six year-olds cry?"
i believe they were referring to either rage against the machine or korn.

virginfest was one of those experiences that encompasses all societal behaviours with interactions between small groups of people, very big groups of people, and most of all, with yourself. i've always had a love-hate relationship with festivals of any kind. the nostalgic part of me knows that these bigger-than-life parties are chock full of things you don't want to miss: great artists, great songs, great stories at the end of the day. the other part of me, the antisocial side, hates the masses of (insert scornful term here) people who inevitably manage to piss me off at least a few times. let's not even mention the choice of food and sustenance festivals tend to have in addition to scorching sun and the trash floating around everywhere. but all-in-all, the love-side wins, and i'm always happy i took the risk and managed to get myself off my haunches to head on out. this wasn't an exception.

we all woke up and packed ourselves into the saab. it was a long drive down, with a pitstop at upenn to pick up some mic stands. when we finally arrived in baltimore, the festival had taken over the city: there was heavy traffic, nowhere to park, and streams of people walking everywhere. we managed to find a house that was charging $5 for parking not too far from the racetracks, so we set the saab next to a vicious, foaming pitbull (the caretaker told us he was "nothing to worry about." right.) and lugged approximately 8 water bottles, one digital camera, and four pairs of cramped legs down to the arena.


a method to the madness?
when we arrived, i was hit over the head with the reasoning behind my hatred of large gatherings: people. people everywhere. people milling, people drinking, people hanging out by the port-a-potties, people smoking, people lying on the ground so awkwardly that i had walk on my toes for fear of crunching someone's body parts under my shoes. on top of it, i had a heavy backpack, an intense reaction to the humidity, and had a random girl make me hold her soda for her while she climbed on some guys back "to look for her friend" for ten minutes.

but then i was also given the chance to revel in why these particular events are awesome: the music. gnarls barkley was the first show we saw, and keeping up to his reputation of having a bizarre "theme" for every performance, was dressed up as a gladiator with a roman populus backing him up, complete with his own choreographed string section. following his final song of "crazy," we trekked over to the second stage where the brazilian girls were playing. i really enjoy the brazilian girls, but there was something about their performance that wasn't flowing right with me. granted, they tend to be a very abstract kind of group, but all i really felt i was getting out of them was house music, which was boring, and sabina sciubba was wearing one of her infamous face masks on stage and it began to freak me out a little (i can't explain it, maybe a little too much surrealism for the day). we then decided to head back over to the first stage in order to get good spots for the killers.

when the killers finally came on, they played a great set. brandon flowers was relatively quiet in regards to the audience, but gracious. playing most of their hits, such as their new single "when you were young," "somebody told me," "mr. brightside," "jenny was a friend of mine," and ending with "all these things that i've done," the band managed to keep up their energy and charisma. people crowd surfed as attractive girls from the crowd were shown overhead on the virgin megascreen (i was not one of them). basically, it was kick ass.

then the who came on. the m.f'in who. pete townshend and roger daltry... there can be no words. despite the fact that these guys would be in retirement if they had any other career, they totally rocked the shit out of the joint. townshend still windmilled and roger still had a stunningly strong voice and countenance in his performance. "teenage wasteland," "my generation," and "you better you bet" all came out loud and clear as films with an acidic twist projected behind them. unfortunately, i was standing next to the vip area and was harassed by some old, flabby probable concert reviewer for rolling stone who thought my finger tapping to the beat was "cute." whatever, roger totally made up for it.

after that, we made our rounds to the scissor sisters. although initially amusing, i realized that it was just like watching a couple of nyu students prance about onstage. while i believe that the scissor sisters have talent and a definite hook, i wasn't feeling it so much in their performance. it seemed like normal disco-alterna-pop and not the completely trashy balls-out kind. and believe you me, this should be a band that's all balls out when it comes to their music. if sir elton john is going to recommend you, i want to see, hear, and know why-- and then i want to be blinded by the glitz of it all.

we then meandered over to the final act of the evening, the red hot chili peppers. i had never seen them live before, but had heard several varying reactions to previous concerts. they came out with tons of energy, anthony kiedis jumping and flipping around on stage, but its apparent that they're not as tight and fit as they used to be. along with the parental warning flea gave about "not making any little girls cry as they're pulled out on a stretcher because you're crowd surfing" speech (which as a little girl, i agreed with), kiedis was completely out of breath and barely hitting any notes on key after three songs. the energy dropped considerably for the next few songs, and then it began to take speed again. it was a rollercoaster (of love) ride throughout the evening. mostly playing songs from their last three albums, i was a little disappointed that "under the bridge" didn't even get encore status, but you can't win them all.

the real stars of the show, however, were john frusciante and flea, whose apparent musicianship has transcended most mortals' capabilities. throughout the evening, we were treated to a few songs sung by frusciante, who, by the way, has an amazing voice. clear, beautiful, and with a great range-- let's not even get into his guitar work because its even more miraculous. flea also started out a song on his bass with a solo in baroque style; it could have been a minuet written by bach, but it was played as easily and simply as though he were working off of a six string. you don't normally hear bass parts like that. then, frusciante came in and they held a veritable dialogue between their instruments. this in itself was probably the best part of the evening.

the set, and the festival, ended with "give it away," which made everyone happy. unfortunately, one of the brothers mims got his face knocked by someone's boot, and we had to beat the rush and find him. he handled the situation well (even getting the guy's name!) and we headed out. when we returned to the car, the snarling pitbull was housed up inside, asleep in his bed, and we were able to get out without any major issues, except maybe some crankiness.

a long drive it was, but i managed to stay awake and enjoy the ride through maryland and new jersey. we finally arrived back around 3 AM, so quite the adventure it was. i'm glad i managed to make it down, and more importantly, overcome my intense need to be antisocial within a crowd long enough to enjoy and take complete advantage of what was going on around me. barring the really gross $9.00 "sausage on bun" i had (the $9.00 falafel line was too long), it was a really great experience, and one i hope to repeat next year. you should too.



/jen/

i, fanatic

so, if you're the type of person who's going to care about this, then you probably already know because you check their website obsessively everyday for just a few more words of information on the greatest mystery of our generation.

that would be brand new's brand new album.

well, it's arrived (sort of). it's available for pre-order on their website, here.

it's called the devil and god are raging inside me, and the track list is as follows:


1. sowing season (yeah)
2. millstone
3. jesus christ
4. degausser
5. limousine
6. you won't know
7. welcome to bangkok
8. not the sun
9. luca
10. untitled
11. archers
12. handcuffs


i've been one of the few, very lucky people to have heard it already (thanks!), and believe you me, if you're not peeing your pants in an excited loss of control by now, you should be.

lord knows i am.

/jen/