The Dig/Locksley/SAADI - Mercury Lounge - November 19, 2009
Ever hear someone boast about how they once saw a now-great band in a small venue? Last night’s show at Mercury Lounge was one of those shows on three different levels. One of the opening bands, SAADI, which had only played a handful of shows together, stunned the early crowd with a tightly executed mix of poppy vocals and ambient guitar. A great rhythm section in Marcus Farrar on drums and AJ Lambert on bass backed lead singer Boshra AlSaadi’s quirky stage presence. SAADI’s exceptionally well-written music showed promise that will certainly pay off for them as an up-and-coming band.
Locksley, heavily featured on MTV, played second. With a sound that straddled the border of the Strokes and the Beatles, they traded lead vocals and executed perfect harmonies. (They even already have an established throng of female fans swooning in the crowd). That they were in the middle of a billing at Mercury Lounge was a bit of a surprise, but they played like it was Shea Stadium, somehow fitting 13 songs into a 40-minute set.
The Dig, a New York City group that is far less known than Locksley but carries just as much promise, however, stole the show. The band was the most powerful of the night, using heavy bass from Emile Mosseri in every song. David Baldwin’s guitar contributed to the strange mix of straight rock sound and fuzzy shoegaze, the latter complemented by Erick Eiser’s wickedly sweet keyboards. Baldwin and Mosseri traded lead vocals from song to song, but Mosseri’s voice was the standout, uniquely sharp and incredibly magnetic (at it’s best on “Penitentiary,” a song so catchy it begs to be licensed and heard everywhere). The Dig wrapped their set with “She’s Going to Kill That Boy,” a brash rocker akin to Cold War Kids, leaving the crowd listening to a band that sounded like they’d already made it big. —Sean O’Kane
Times New Viking - Mercury Lounge - November 18, 2009
(Photo: Listen Missy)
Whatever you do, don’t call them lo-fi. Immediate? Yes. Recorded with whatever’s on hand as quickly as possible without concern for microphone placement or levels? Yes. But their albums aren’t a reaction against over-produced commercial pop, like the pinnacle of lo-fi pioneers Sebadoh or Guided by Voices in the late ’90s, as much as they are about their process: making the method of capturing the sound another instrument to be played. Instead of bringing this hazy distortion to their live show, Times New Viking plays at a volume that your ears will interpret as in the red. The trio’s particular brand of overblown hiss on their recordings is turned into punk energy live, with Adam Elliott on drums creating surprisingly melodic harmonies with Beth Murphy on keys. The frantic momentum never lasts longer than a minute or two before Elliott calls out the next song on the set list and asks the audience for another beer.
Their attempt at pure spontaneity, to capture a particular moment, is evident even in guitarist Jared Phillips’ approach to the instrument. What’s a left-handed player to do in a right-handed guitar world? Play it upside down. Adapt. The drum kit is stripped down to the bare essentials. Elliott plays hunched over, nearly hitting himself in the head, taking the direction of each melody on his shoulders. It was almost shocking to hear Rip It Off when it was released on Matador Records last year—the sleeve art reflecting the cut-up, barely passable aesthetic of the group’s sonic endgame, which happily continues on their latest, Born Again Revisited. It’s a mistake to get bogged down with sonic textures because at the core they are melodic, catchy songs that sound even better played with the unrestrained force Times New Viking inflicts on a live audience. —Jason Dean
With the recent release of Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson’s second album, Summer of Fear, on Saddle Creek Records, the Brooklyn-based artist fits in nicely among the label’s other acts, especially alongside the raw, emotional back catalog of Bright Eyes and the twangy confessionals performed by Neva Dinova’s Jake Bellows. Though Summer of Fear was recorded during a particularly rough time in Robinson’s life, and stories of heartbreak and hard times are woven throughout the music, when he takes the stage (following musical-melting-pot These United States) at Mercury Lounge on Friday, don’t expect a pity party. Summer of Fear finds Robinson expressing his ennui through righteous, roots-y songs in the tradition of artists like Tom Petty and Bob Dylan, full of cathartic choruses and foot-stomping beats. So please leave your tissues at home, for on Friday, as Robinson tells his tales of woe, we can work through some of our own troubles by singing along as loud as we can. It should be a bit like group therapy (but with the added bonus of a full bar). —Alena Kastin
(See Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson, above, playing “Trap Door”—last month during CMJ—broadcast on Seattle’s KEXP radio.)
She started out acting (she even trained with Cate Blanchett)—first on TV, in the medical drama G.P., then as the host of a cartoon show and then, finally, in movies. But Lenka Kripac also had musical urges, so she joined the electronica band Decoder Ring in her native Australia. But even that wasn’t enough. So in 2007, like so many before her, she dropped her last name and decamped to Los Angeles seeking something bigger. Later on, and also like so many before her, she headed to upstate New York to record her debut solo album, Lenka, in Woodstock. Not only has her disc been well received but also several of the singles have made their way into commercials and TV shows. And now Lenka is making her way to Mercury Lounge tomorrow night. Check her out, above, playing “The Show” and “Trouble Is a Friend” on Jimmy Kimmel Live, and then go see Lenka in person and let her sunny music brighten your rainy Friday.
One of Canada’s most popular roots-rock bands, Blue Rodeo, has been doin’ it and doin’ it and doin’ it well since releasing Outskirts, in 1987. They’ve put out a slew of music since then, all the while honing their blend of rock, folk and country, earning them comparisons to the estimable kings of that rock-folk-country combo, Bob Dylan, Gram Parsons and the Band. Blue Rodeo’s newest album, The Things We Left Behind, comes out later this month. But you don’t have to wait that long to hear the new tunes because they’re playing Mercury Lounge on Saturday. One catch: The show is sold out. But you can try to Grow a Pair of tickets from The House List. Just fill out the form below, listing your name, e-mail address, which show you’re trying to win tickets to (Blue Rodeo, 11/14) and a brief message explaining why this ain’t your first rodeo. Eddie Bruiser, a sucker for a girl in chaps, will notify the winner by noon on Friday the 13th. Good luck.
A surprisingly large crowd made the post-work trek to the early show at Mercury Lounge on Friday to see the ethereal blues-rockers Alberta Cross. As a reward, the band put on a remarkable performance for an early billing. Alberta Cross is multifaceted to say the least. Swedish frontman Petter Stakee’s earnest vocals contrasted lead guitarist Sam Kearney’s violently melodic style and captivated the crowd. Behind them, the rhythm section of Terry Wolfers, Alec Higgins and Austin Beede helped the band jump from their more Southern rock-style jams to their lighter, more melody-driven tunes.
The band featured a heavy dose of their full-length debut, Broken Side of Time (released in September), and highlighted tunes like “Song Three Blues,” a slow-burning blues ballad. Stakee’s thin frame swayed back and forth when not glued to the microphone, dishing out his own dose of erratic guitar lines. Alberta Cross displayed incredible aural control, matching four-part vocals and wild instrumental breaks without letting their sound get too muddy and loud. Stakee’s voice rang the loudest, exceptionally showcased on “Taking Control,” on which he wailed in a strikingly high register. The band wound down with “Rise from the Shadows” (a song Stakee described as “gospel”), involving the crowd with the simple chorus and all sorts of clapping, and ended their early set all to quickly. —Sean O’Kane
Noah and the Whale - Mercury Lounge - November 3, 2009
It’s hard to say what this crowd came to see. Charlie Fink, lead singer of Noah and the Whale, sort of shuffled to the stage with his five-piece band fully intent on playing large swatches of their new album, First Rites of Spring, ostensibly a love note and a gigantic fuck you to Fink’s ex-girlfriend and former bandmate, Laura Marling. The record is a gut-wrenching exegesis on breaking up, and Fink is more than intent to play it the way a mechanic can stare into the bowels of your car and tell you, quite simply, your engine doesn’t work. Except that it’s Fink who is broken, which is exactly what the crowd has shown up to see. The band opened with “Blue Skies,” arguably the most uplifting of Fink’s tragic masterwork. Of course, this would be like saying The Old Guitarist was the most uplifting painting of Picasso’s Blue Period.
There are aspects of schadenfreude at work here. You couldn’t say Fink looked sickly or drunk or morose or any of the other signifiers that usually typify modern human breakups, and yet the music told a different story. Playing “Our Window,” which vividly describes the night of their separation, Fink was either completely satisfied with his documentation of this event or he’s still actively hurt by it. Either way, we’ve all stopped to watch his emotional car accident, beautifully scored as it may be. What’s that say about us, members of the nearly sold-out crowd, who came to witness this? Were we hoping to be healed in this fire? As the band ripped through the end of “First Rites of Spring,” you felt Fink connect for the first time with this catharsis we’ve come to be a part of. It was the last song of their main set and then they moved into “Shape of My Heart,” from their first album. It had a different tone but given the circumstances, whatever the shape of Fink’s heart, it was almost certainly still broken. —Geoff Nelson
Amy Millan is a singer and guitarist best known for her work with the bands Broken Social Scene and Stars. But she’s also plenty accomplished on her own. Her first album, the roots-rock-filled Honey from the Tombs, came out in 2006. And she released her second solo effort, the spare Masters of the Burial, in September. As is usually the case, an accompanying tour has followed, which brings her to Mercury Lounge tomorrow night. But we wanted to hear what she had to say before then, and Millan—who claims her biggest nonmusical talent is “making soup”—was nice enough to answer Five Questions for The House List.
What’s the best part of playing New York City?
The first time I came to New York many years ago, I knew its reputation as being rude. I found it to be the opposite. It’s extremely friendly compared to say, Toronto. People don’t live in fear, so it’s easy to have random chats about random topics with strangers, if you aren’t an asshole.
What’s your favorite place in New York City to hang out? And do you ever feel like you could live here? Angel’s Share, Central Park, Babbo to name a few. If I ever become a millionaire, I will definitely get a flat and spend more time there.
Do you have to be depressed to write a sad song? Do you have to be in love to write a love song? Is a song better when it really happened to you?
There is a current of all emotion that you can dip your fingers into at any time if you wish to. There is a world sadness that is ever-present. So no, I don’t find I need to feel depressed to write a sad song. As with the last question, love is everywhere. Even in the gutter. It’s all happening to me. Even if it’s my reaction to someone else’s story, it’s still being interpreted by my feelings.
Your after-party is at Hi-Fi, the Avenue A bar known for its endless jukebox, and The House List gives you a buck. Which three songs are you playing?
“Lovely Day” by Bill Withers, “Only You Babe” by Curtis Mayfield and “The Whole World” by OutKast.
It’s 4 a.m. and last call has come and gone. What’s your next move?
Well if for some insane, drug-related reason I was not already in bed, then out the guitars would come and we would sing until the sun came up. —R. Zizmor
Noah and the Whale are about to pull off one of the greatest reversals ever to come out of the London folk scene. Their first record, Peaceful, the World Lays Me Down, was full of rabid optimism, meditations on love and maybe a hint of darkness, but it was largely covered in the whistles, chimes and ebullience of the much-licensed “5 Years Time.” It was so sweet it stuck to the roof of your mouth. Of course, that was while lead singer Charlie Fink and bandmate Laura Marling were dating and he still believed in the world.
After they broke up last year, Fink sat down to write his Sea Change, a break-up record to live as a breathing, singing, moaning epitaph to the burning of a communal civilization. A musical document to say, “Laura, you ruined my life, you fucking bitch (slash) I still care about you.” Eventually titled First Rites of Spring, the results of Fink’s anguish are as beautiful as they are hard to get through. Strings wail and disinterested guitars meander through rich orchestration as Fink digs into his personal trauma, equal parts composer, coroner and healer. It will make you think of every person who broke your heart. It will make you think of a boat built for two, either sunk or now just big enough for one. Laura, this isn’t your fault, but it begs the classic Nick Hornby question: Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable or was I miserable because I listened to pop music? In this case, it is exactly both. —Geoff Nelson
(Check out Noah and the Whale, above, playing “Rocks and Daggers” on Altitude TV and then go see them live at Mercury Lounge on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.)
Halloween is about tricks or treats, but why settle for just one when The Bowery Presents is offering a night filled with plenty of both? Deer Tick is playing the songs of the Sex Pistols at Brooklyn Bowl. And if you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing this band live, you already know that with their three-pronged guitar attack and frontman Jon McCauley snarling Johnny Rotten’s vocals that this will be “Anarchy in the BK” done right.
If the Sex Pistols aren’t your thing, but you still want some classic rock—and who could blame you?—then head to Music Hall of Williamsburg to see Lez Zeppelin. Their tagline is All Girls. All Zeppelin. And these girls are fierce (especially Leesa Squyres as John Bonham)! If you still want covers, but are looking to get down, Karl Denson’s Tiny Universe will be doing a tribute to Michael Jackson at The Bowery Ballroom. And if you like a dance party with a slight political bent, then shake it all night at Terminal 5 with D.C.’s Thievery Corporation.
Of course, there are also other options. If you’re looking for some catchy-and-contemplative music, we’ve got that too: Tegan and Sara at Town Hall. And if good old-fashioned storytelling is your thing, hightail it to The Wellmont Theatre to see the engaging Robert Earl Keen and Todd Snider. And, finally, if you’re looking to check out several bands with some “high-octane punk rock with swagger” then check out Mercury Lounge’s lineup, led by Black Taxi. (Plus, there’s even a costume contest.) Do what you like, but do see some music on Halloween!
The drunk chatter in the crowd as fans eagerly anticipated Far taking the Mercury Lounge stage pretty much revolved around one thing: excitement. “I’ve been waiting 10 years to see this band,” said one 26-year-old crammed into a nook directly in front of the stage. The band hit stride while playing “Water & Solutions,” “Man Overboard” and “Bury White,” three songs off the 1998 fan favorite and emo-heavy album, Water & Solutions. (Also the last disc before the band’s split the following year.)
A couple of songs later, frontman Jonah Montranga explained that he wanted to be in the audience, dancing and sweaty with them—but not crowd-surfing (as a few fans had previously done and tried to help him do). And, as a long segue into “Nestle,” he discussed growing up and having kids, and how parenthood is scary, but also amazing, like when he saw his friend’s young daughter dancing at the previous night’s soundcheck. “Really Here,” another song off Water & Solutions, received a mass crowd sing-along and pit fury similar to that which greeted the earlier songs from that album.
Far then left the stage after one more song, but returned to play another four. Montranga asked the crowd if they still had it in them, and, boy, did they. “Mother Mary” received the most raucous response of all. At one point toward the end of the set, Montranga commented, “We know some of our best ‘New York’ shows have been in New Jersey. And, some of our best ‘New York’ shows have been in Long Island.” But, as he went on to explain, they were in the city now, and this was truly one of their best New York shows. —Kirsten Housel
The CMJ Music Marathon starts today, and The Bowery Presents has plenty of choices for you with multiple shows all week long at The Bowery Ballroom, Mercury Lounge and Music Hall of Williamsburg. Check out what some of the people at The House List are most excited to see:
Having had “Crystalised” playing on repeat for at least two straight weeks, it’s an understatement to say that I am looking forward to watching the xx perform at CMJ (Music Hall of Williamsburg, Friday). I have also heard there is some great hair I should try to catch on camera. ZAZA is on the wish list because I have yet to witness the atmospheric magic spun by my enchanting friend Jennie. I’ll also try to make the Screaming Females show (Mercury Lounge, Wednesday). I saw them last on Valentine’s Day, when that itty-bitty girl shredded her guitar into itty-bitty heart-shaped pieces. Her vocals hark back to the Dead Kennedys, which wins my deepest reverence. —Mina Kim, Photographer
I’m most excited for two Bowery Ballroom shows—Deer Tick on Thursday and then Portugal. The Man on Friday. I must admit that I love Deer Tick. With their tight songwriting and loose live performances, they’re a must-see band every time they play NYC. I’ve only had the chance to see Portugal. The Man twice, at Bonnaroo and Outside Lands, but each time I’ve found them eminently listenable and intriguing, and not just because of their strangely punctuated band name. —R. Zizmor, Editor
We’ve all been to rock and roll shows where a guitarist has broken a string and where metaphoric shredding becomes literal. Well, last night I saw Eef Barzelay, frontman of Clem Snide, break a microphone string. Well, not the string—microphones don’t have strings—but early on in the set at the Merc, the cable just spontaneously popped out of the back of the mike. “That’s never happened to me before,” he exclaimed. I’m not surprised, though, because Barzelay was certainly shredding the microphone all night with goofy banter between songs and bipolar singing that was crooned and snarled, over- and under-accentuated. The sound in the room was perfect, highlighting the vocals with a crispness that ensured that not one lyric was missed.
And with Clem Snide, you certainly don’t want to miss a single word. They featured a bunch of new tunes off a to-be-released album: One called “Denise,” with a wonderfully bloated bass line, and another with perhaps the funniest lyric I’ve heard in a while, “I got high with a Sufjan Stevens fan in Normal, Illinois.” The Illinois rhymed with girls and boys in a nice bit of wit. After a story about his son finding a used condom in Prospect Park, the band played a new song, which apparently was written from the point of view of whoever left behind such detritus (featuring the line “I plant my seed”). A two-song solo stint for Barzelay was anchored by a strong version of “The Ballad of Bitter Honey” (you know, the song about a music-video dancer that starts with the line “That was my ass you saw shaking next to Ludacris”). For the encore, Barzelay announced a Michael Jackson tribute (“He died for our sins…. No, really, he did!”) and launched into a surprisingly awesome, high-energy mashup of “Man in the Mirror” and “We Are the World.” —A. Stein
Last night at Mercury Lounge, the Washington, D.C.-quintet Le Loup kept the stage very dark, with a stream of smoke from lit incense wafting toward the ceiling. Before the show began, clearly, a mood was being created. Illuminated only by a hazy yellow light, the band opened with “Saddle Mountain,” the first track on their new record, Family. A bit folksy and a bit drone-y, the song cemented the sort of blissed-out, hazy atmosphere that was tangible inside the club.
Lest we settle too comfortably into this mellow Le Loup headspace, bit by bit, the group began to shake us out of it. As the set progressed, singer Sam Simkoff joyfully bounced around the stage. The band added layer upon layer of vocals, spun the tempo into a frenetic pace and punctuated it all with some heavy drumbeats. If you’d come to the show looking for the Le Loup of their haunting 2007 debut album, The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations’ Millennium General Assembly, you would be hard pressed to find them here. Sure, the new songs employed some similar elements—hushed harmonies and a delicate banjo riff here and there—but for the most part, everything had been given the aforementioned treatment: sped-up, tripped out and underscored with some powerful bass.
The band’s final number, “Go East,” was perhaps the most winning synthesis of these differing styles. While they sang harmonies the likes of which Grizzly Bear would envy, a driving, yet restrained beat added a sense of urgency to the song. It was a nice crystallization of Le Loup’s multiple musical personalities. —Alena Kastin
There was something strikingly old fashioned but noticeably modern about Mike Kinsella’s set—performing as Owen—at Mercury Lounge on Friday night. If you closed your eyes and just listened to him and his acoustic guitar, it was easy to imagine that you were at an intimate James Taylor show circa 1970. The packed crowd listened to Kinsella’s simple, personal lyrics sung in a pristinely sweet voice. His set list, merely a suggestion as he took requests from the crowd, was written in pen on his hand, and it smeared while he played.
Between songs, Kinsella bantered about topics like President Obama’s Nobel Prize and Facebook statuses, all the while a girl up front recorded the show on her Flip Video camera. Open your eyes and Kinsella was suddenly just as much Zach Galifianakis as he was James Taylor. For an hour he bounced around from slowly soft songs to upbeat pop tunes, drastically shifting the tuning on his guitar each time. Some of the highlights included “Good Friends, Bad Habits,” and “New Leaves.” By the set’s end, Kinsella had entranced everyone in the crowd, drawing them in with his Taylor-like skills and Galifianakis-like humor. And even when a cell phone interfered with the speakers, Kinsella’s music rang louder. —Sean O’Kane
Thee Oh Sees built a bonfire last night at Mercury Lounge—but no bonfire begins that way. It takes some tending to and plenty of ready-to-burn wood. On this occasion, the wood was the crowd, packed in and rubbing elbows. At the get-go, things were loud and blazing. The music was spooky surf music, like someone had taken happy melodies and locked them in some minor-key dungeon. Even the “la la las” of one of the first tunes had a sinister air. There is no bassist in the band. Instead a second guitarist holds down those duties, hanging low on the neck of his guitar, providing a droning low-end strum. The two- and three-chords rage rock was punctuated mostly by the Stewart Copeland-esque drumming, which provided variation via tempo changes and rhythmic manipulations. Frontman John Dwyer had a crazy energy in the he-knows-he’s-crazy-and-he-knows-you-know-too kind of way, running his vocals and guitar through plenty of echo and reverb with a Leaning Tower of Pisa stack of lo-fi amps behind him and the microphone deep inside his mouth.
This energy piqued the crowd and a bit of head bobbing evolved into some moshing in front of the stage. The kindling was lit and the Oh Sees upped the energy even more, spreading things out with more developed songs and some melodic complexity. Through some reverse-osmosis effect, the dudes who wanted to slam themselves against each other floated toward the stage while those who had no desire to be bumped into or spilled upon moved back—I stood somewhere in between—and the smoking twigs became a full-fledged campfire. For the final tune, the drummer from opener the Fresh & Onlys joined in, quickly assembling a second kit at the front of the stage, dumping a gallon of gasoline on an already healthy flame and, voilà, bonfire. —A. Stein
Kurt Vile & the Violators - Mercury Lounge - October 7, 2009
(Photo: Justin Clowes)
Seemingly out of nowhere, Philadelphia native Kurt Vile has quickly built a following based on Constant Hitmaker, released on Gulcher and Brooklyn’s Woodsist Records. His music has a dreamlike quality of some imaginary pop-psyche scene, all lush soundscapes with spacey effects. But, onstage, essentially it’s classic rock and roll, with heavy reverb and the occasional drum machine or synth. Vile channels the storyteller-folksinger greats, delivering stream-of- consciousness lyrics with an effortless Dylan-like drawl. All of this has catapulted him to sign a “worldwide multi-album” deal and release his latest disc, Childish Prodigy, with indie heavy-hitter Matador Records.
Vile started the show with a couple of solo acoustic tracks, showcasing his formidable finger-picking chops and his ability to weave unusual lyric melodies through these neo-country licks. Then the Violators joined him for a decidedly Crazy Horse feeling on “Don’t Get Cute,” which led into an extended “Freak Train” with third guitarist Adam Granduciel improvising free-jazz sax, as Mike Zeng kept up a locomotive beat. It’s a combination of ’70s AM West Coast pop, classic Southern rock, avant-garde hillbilly and folk that you can’t quite place. In the end you have to stop examining it and just give in to the Kurt Vile experience of making all those influences his own. In his typical free-association verse, Vile even managed to make the line “I got a trumpet/ I know where to dump it” sound good. It’s his “Subterranean Homesick Blues,” and Vile is tossing the cue cardson the ground. —Jason Dean
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We’ve all been to rock and roll shows where a guitarist has broken a string and where metaphoric shredding becomes literal. Well, last night I saw Eef Barzelay, frontman of 
