Ed Banger Records birthday cake. Photo Loren Wohl.

[Note: I originally wrote this for Climbing the Horizon; I thought I'd stick this review here, too for you readers unaware of C the H, which if you aren't, check it out.]

I can hardly stand straight.

I’m a runner, so I would like to think that’s saying something. I’ve run some 20Ks, two half-marathons, I’m training to run a full marathon, but I was in no way prepared for the five-hour dance session Ed Banger Records pumped out at their 7th Anniversary celebration. The lineup was an Ed Banger fan’s wet dream, building intensity and talent with every new set of hands at the wheels, all coming to a head with the French electronic explosion that is Justice.

My friend Wills and I got to Terminal 5 a few minutes before the 9pm doors to find a chanting crowd waiting in a line about 6 people wide that already stretched from the venue’s awning to 12th Avenue, which was nearly the whole block. We snuck our way in towards the front of the line (apologies), joining the multitudes whose electricity crackled above the street. The energy outside was palpable, and it came in all forms for Justice and their crew. When I saw Okkervil River here in January, the crowd was of course tamer, and Passion Pit’s crowd seemed to hardly have their learner’s permits, but Ed Banger drew all sorts, a more mature crowd, but a little less sane crowd. A man jumped into the line next to us and grabbed someone, brandishing a fake pistol, quickly carried off by security. He dropped his “gun” but someone else was dumb enough to try to bring it inside, obviously denied by the T5 po-po.

Breakbot spinning as DJ Mehdi sets up. Photo Loren Wohl.

The doors opened to an already spinning Breakbot, whose set had the distinct feel of an Ed Banger, but didn’t sprint out of the gate with too much intensity, easing the crowd into the party. He stood before a giant red banner emblazoned with a black “7″ designed by So-Me and filled with comic-book renditions of all the Ed Bangers, Justice prominent in the middle. Seeing even cartoons of Xavier de Rosnay and Gaspard Augé got my heart pumping more. Confetti cannons stood aimed at the crows, a giant net full of balloons hung above us. It was going to be a good night, oh yes.

By the end of Breakbot’s hour-long set, the venue was filled, feet were moving, bodies were swaying, glow sticks were out, and I was already sweaty. Busy P. joined Breakbot onstage to welcome everyone to the celebration, facilitating the changing of the guard to DJ Mehdi. Mehdi threw down heavier beats, danceable but tedious for the casual fan past the half-way mark. His stage presence made up for what was for me repetitious music, he was bouncing around and so into the music that you had to be, too, at least a little bit.

Though we danced through from the beginning, the real energy came when A-Trak took over, his music felt raw, unabashedly in-your-face, it coursed through the crowd so viciously that we were no longer dancing of our own accord, but because we had to. He played original beats, scratched, and played straight up hip-hop, also making allusions to other Ed Bangers and DJ’s, throwing in morsels from Justice and a remix of Daft Punk’s “Robot Rock” near the end of his set.

Uffie rocks the house, backed by Feadz. Photo Loren Wohl.

The “and friends” clause on the event posters led to much speculation on who would be making a surprise appearance, but (to not too many fans’ surprise) the big guest spot went to Uffie. Her performance, backed by electro-whiz Feadz, broke up the night, turning a few hours of lyric-less thumping into a vocal expression of the audaciously party-centric and thoroughly Euro image of the label. She was sexy and tireless, sequined and sporting the short blond bob of hair that makes her the kind of girl you will always dream of but never quite have.

At the witching hour, the tables were turned over to the first of the acts I was excited for, Busy P., but before he got spinning, it was birthday time. They rolled out a huge cake, which at first I though was just a prop, but a little ways into Busy P.’s set they started slicing it up and serving it to the crowd (I eventually got a slice, hand-delivered by Feadz himself). The whole crowd sang “Happy Birthday” to Ed Banger, and the confetti went flying. It was truly a festival, and it had such a happy vibe.  The balloons were released, and immediately started popping and bouncing as people threw them at each other. Busy P. had by far the most intensity of all the acts before Justice, and he made sure to sap my energy as we all fed our reserves to the party.

Busy P eating the b-day cake. Photo Loren Wohl.

About ten minutes before 1 o’clock rolled around I wriggled my way up through the crowd, passing thoroughly drunk spazzers and rolling ravers, couples making out, and clans in cowboy hats and over-sized shades. By the hour I was in front, and Justice finally took the stage. I haven’t been star-struck this hard since I saw The Mars Volta for the first time opening for the Red Hot Chili Peppers in 2006. I had idolized Omar Rodriguez-Lopez for so long, ogling over interviews and pictures to build the band up to a mythical realm I could hardly imagine being real. Yet, that night, there they were, human as the rest of us.

Since then I’ve seen a lot of shows and never had that same overwhelming awe. Justice did that. For months after I first heard them I searched through photos, I watched the electro-rockumentary A Cross the Universe, I created my own mental mythology all over again.When Xavier and Gaspard appeared, they were veritable leather-clad, cigarette-smoking French gods, and my lord did their blessed beats reign sovereign that night.

Justice. Photo Loren Wohl.

This was not a Justice concert proper, but a DJ set, but I think that made it all the better. Their songs were not performed explicitly, but remixed, alluded to, mashed-up. They played remixes of “Phantom,” “D.A.N.C.E.” and “Waters of Nazareth” (my personal favorite), stringing the tracks out over different beats and edits. The newness of the material despite its roots in their original material made the night an experience different yet wholly satisfying. The light show, as with any good electronic performance, was stellar, adding to our confusion and the unreal circumstance that a concert like this is. Stepping into the venue we left real life behind and stood in another dimension governed by the laws of heavy beats and writhing bodies and shattering eardrums.

Fan-made bodyforms hailing the headliners. Photo Loren Wohl.

The thing about electronic shows that I love is at some indie rock concerts there is some decorum where you have to think about the music, stroke your beard and analyze it. Others you cut loose, but still there is restraint. At a dance show, there is one rule: dance your ass off. It’s a chance to become primal, to let your visceral desire to give up control take over, and leave your body to the gods of music. I took full advantage of this, dancing hard, hard enough that people backed off and I got a teensy bit more breathing room (or spazzing room, as the case was), and a few people asked if I was rolling. I think a night is successful if you look insane enough to be on ecstasy even when you’re not.

After Justice finished their set, Feadz sliced up more cake, and when I got a slice I gobbled it. The cake tasted like a gargantuan corn muffin with a higher butter-to-flour ratio than my grandmother’s own Southern artery-clamping cookin’, and, my God, it felt good. I left that night exhausted but enlightened, now with the French electronic party scene a part of my own history. The Ed Bangers came to party, and New York partied hard.

Click the clip below for a taste of the action, this one is Justice playing a remixed “D.A.N.C.E.”

A guy-girl duo from Saratoga Springs turned on to me by Matt over at Invalid Litter Dept., Phantogram deliver a dense, dark and swirling hip-hop influenced aesthetic reminiscent (at least for me) of School of Seven Bells (they’re friends) and The xx. Definitely worth your listen, they’re moody but danceable, a great combo.

Tracklist:

1. Mouthful of Diamonds
2. When I’m Small
3. Turn It Off
4. Running from the Cops
5. All Dried Up
6. As Far As I Can See
7. You Are the Ocean
8. Bloody Palms
9. Futuristic Casket
10. Let Me Go
11. 10,000 Claps

Enjoy.

I kind of have a thing for beards. Maybe it’s just because regardless of how long I leave the nano-bristles on my face fallow, they resist any respectable growth, but we’ll leave that to one side. My soft spot for soft whiskers is partially what drew me to Devendra Banhart, the Texan-Venezuelan prince of freak-folk, whose wild-child appearance complements the eclectic and unpredictable turns in his songwriting. This is why I was so distraught to learn that (gasp!) – he shaved it off.

One could say Banhart’s (relative) tidying up was precipitated by his recent switch to major label Warner Brothers Records, and further that maybe he is “going mainstream,” compromising the very outré persona that makes Devendra, well, Devendra. A listen to “What Will We Be” quickly squelches that notion, as the album showcases just as many idiosyncrasies and eccentric lyrics as its predecessors.

“Angelika,” an acoustic ballad much like Devendra’s work on “Rejoicing in the Hands” for its first half, takes a left turn, becoming a latin piano groove layered with swirling vocal melodies under Spanish lyrics. Emerging as perhaps the most radio-friendly track is “Baby,” a reflection on the merits of infant life set to electric themes recalling the halcyon aura of soul. “Goin’ Back” grows from Banhart’s Texas roots, a shuffle integrating slide guitar and Western styles into his sui generis aesthetic.

“Chin Chin & Muck Muck,” one of many Devendra songs which lyrically centers around childhood, begins with jazz piano melodies atop gentle, brushed drums, emphasizing the low-key, raspy side of Banhart’s vocals, begetting a tranquil mood augmented by a Wynton Marsalis-style trumpet solo. Not one to travel just one path, Devendra pushes the song into blithe and playful folk territory replete with “la la la’s” and onomatopoeic verses just as impish as the child bouncing in their author’s soul. “Rats” rolls forward with Led Zeppelin’s brio, resembling one of their tracks had it been a love song written from the lyrical perspective of a rodent.

Despite the album’s several highlights, it suffers, especially towards the end, from the repetitiously soporific drones of its lower-key tracks. Loyal fans of Banhart’s work may be more comfortable with the extended, delicately twinkling pianos and mumbled words, but newcomers may find the quieter tracks tedious.

As a whole the album confirms that Banhart’s ingenuity persists. The beard, luscious as it was, appears not to have held the magical genius that whispered to the whimsical space-cadet as he wrote, since the ingenious, goofy, ebullient tracks of “What Will We Be” that came from a clean(er)-shaven Devendra stand just as tall as the vital spirits that guide them.

Tracklist:

1. Can’t Help but Smiling
2. Angelika
3. Baby
4. Goin’ Back
5. First Song for B
6. Last Song for B
7. Chin Chin & Muck Muck
8. 16th & Valencia Roxy Music
9. Rats
10. Maria Leonza
11. Brindo
12. Meet Me at the Lookout
13. Walilamzi
14. Foolin’

Get it.

Thomas Mars of Phoenix during their set in Central Park on September 26, 2009. Photo: Amanda Hatfield

I put up a few of these tracks for download, but if you want to here the whole album click here for a stream. It’s well worth the listen, even the first track (Lisztomania (Alex Metric remix) ) should get you moving, it’s almost (…almost) as if Justice did a (sort of lazy) remix of the album’s lead-off track. It has the feel and the prominent midrange, but it’s a little lengthy for a Justice track.

But forgetting that tangent… it’s a stellar collection, and if you’re sitting glued to your computer for at least 45 minutes I recommend throwing this stream on in the back, I was happy I did.

Tracklist:

1. Lisztomania (Alex Metric remix)
2. Fences (The Soft Pack remix)
3. 1901 Bo Flex’d (Passion Pit remix)
4. Lasso (2 Door Cinema Club remix)
5. Fences (25 Hrs A Day remix)
6. 1901 (L’aiglon remix)
7. Love Like A Sunset (Turzi remix)
8. Fences (Boombass remix)
9. Lisztomania (A Fight For Love – 25 Hrs A Day remix)
10. Fences (Friendly Fires remix)
11. Armistice (Yacht remix)
12. Girlfriend (Young Fathers remix)
13. Fences (Chairlift remix)
14. Rome (Neighbours with Devendra Banhart)
15. Love Like A Sunset (Animal Collective remix)

Enjoy.

The hyper-indie quartet Animal Collective were asked by French rockers Phoenix to remix one of their tracks for their upcoming release, a remix album of tracks from Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix. The result is a pretty trippy take on the primarily instrumental track “Love Like a Sunset” with some new Animal Collective vocals over the top, reverberating through the dark electric haze characteristic of the pseudonymous musicians. AC took the care to make their remix a work that stands on its own apart from the Phoenix original (as you would expect from such a stellar group, I suppose), refraining from just regurgitating the original melody over a dance beat and maybe chopping up some vocals. I’m in love; give it a spin and I hold very little doubt your heart will start fluttering, too.

Phoenix – “Love Like a Sunset” (Animal Collective Remix)

Also check out these tracks, which will be appearing alongside the AC remix:

Phoenix – “Rome” (Neighbors Remix feat. Devendra Banhart)

Phoenix – “Fences” (Friendly Fires Remix)

This album only crossed my path due to my near-debilitating addiction to reddit.com. Whilst abrowse in the music subreddit, I stumbled across a post entitled “Every year some friends and I turn a woodland cabin into a makeshift recording studio, fill it with instruments, and spend the weekend writing and recording a record from scratch. Here’s our latest attempt, in vinyl and (free) mp3 form“. So, sucker that I am, I downloaded it. The opener, “Last of the Incas”, floats in a lo-fi haze of guitars muddled by reverb, distortion and tremolo, rolling forward and grabbing other instruments as it goes. Simple, light drums, bass, and keys. Once the vocals hit, it’s clear we have no Grammy nominees in attendance, but talent means less than emotion and though anymore anyway (doesn’t it? For my musical endeavors, I certainly hope so…). A group of breathy, droning singers joins the mix, adding to the shoegaze vibe.

Past “Incas”, however, the album suffers from the tempo-sliding, detuning and overall “looseness” to which a no-rehearsals-seat-of-the-pants recording is so prone. “Island” features a pleasant vibraphone backdrop and simple organ line which make for a good, albeit short song.

I love the first track, and if the remaining tracks were tighter (drums and even other instruments tended to drift) they could be stellar. This setup produces something of an ultimate first draft: first-run songwriting, rough production, and a little bit of messiness throughout. My favorite part of the write-it-record-it-now method is the sheer passion and energy in music like that. Although it sort of contradicts my last point, with some rehearsals, tweaks, and shinier production, this album holds a lot of potential to grow on shoegaze and indie fans. Definitely give the first track a thorough listen, and if so inclined grab the whole thing, it at the very least makes suitable study music.

Tracklist:

1. Last of the Incas [ mp3 ]
2. Cops Chasing Undercover Cops [ mp3 ]
   
3. Buy Into It [ mp3 ]
   
4. Island [ mp3 ]
   
5. Bloodmilk [ mp3 ]
   
6. In Your View or Mine [ mp3 ]
   
7. Reach for the Stars (Bloodmilk, Pt. 2) [ mp3 ]
   
8. Window Wine [ mp3 ]
   
9. Anything for a Drink [ mp3 ]
   
10. The Authenticator [ mp3 ]
    
11. Low-lying Clouds [ mp3 ]

My faves: “The Last of the Incas”, “Island”, “Bloodmilk”

Get it.

(Original page.)

My ears are infected with Simian Mobile Disco’s beats right now. Like I seriously find long stretches of time absent of SMD are currently intolerable (my entire bio lab today I sported  a bit of a silent headbob). Simian Mobile Disco offers just what the third word of their name purports, a dance party. Sometimes it’s just a party within the confines of my headphones, but we break it down when the urge strikes around here. Think HEALTH, Justice, and any good club DJ, throw them in a blender, lay in a pan and bake at 400 for a bit, and out come some crisp beats awash in a tasteful application of  the properties in the album’s title. I can’t wait to see them next month (October 28th at Paradise Rock Club in Boston). Apparently they’re also headlining Webster Hall’s pre-Halloween party in New York City on Oct. 30th, which is also a costume contest (unfortunately the cumulative cost of transporation precludes my attendance of both shows, yuck). If you can make it to an SMD concert, you will find yourself amidst a dance party unlike most. If anyone reading (there is someone, right? Right?) is going to the Boston show, lemme know, we can meet up (comment or email me).

Tracklist:

1. “Sleep Deprivation” – 4:59
2. “I Got This Down” – 4:09
3. “It’s the Beat” – 3:22
4. “Hustler” – 3:42
5. “Tits & Acid” – 4:03
6. “I Believe” – 3:18
7. “Hotdog” – 3:16
8. “Wooden” – 3:50
9. “Love” – 3:02
10. “Scott” – 3:12
11. “Clock” – 4:19
12. “System” – 8:30

Get it.

Caveat: I originally wrote this review for a newspaper, so please forgive terse language and other such nonsense as it appears.

Ah, the supergroup: for some, an excuse to engage in mutual back-patting and masturbatory jams that do little more than stroke the egos of their creators. Eager fans snatch up the collaborations out of brand-loyalty to their musical idols, only to find frustration when they’re left with a shoddy sequence of tracks cobbled together just to soak more revenue out of the market. Audioslave sounds more like a mellower Rage Against the Machine guest-starring the singer from Soundgarden that a genuinely innovative band stretching their creative boundaries (they even started performing RATM songs in concert when things started getting slow). Others, like the classic Traveling Wilburys and the modern acts Broken Social Scene and The Sound of Animals Fighting foster an inventive air among their members, generating compelling music with a veritable mark of authenticity.

Monsters of Folk, a collaboration featuring Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis of Bright Eyes, Jim James of My Morning Jacket, and M. Ward of She & Him, balances on the border between innovation and the recreation of its members earlier work. Opener “Dear God” offers the former, sitting atop a trip-hop beat that bends the album’s genre away from the folk label its title portends, instead delivering a languid meditation on God and suffering between atmospheric chords and harp glissandos. Following is “Say Please”, an irresistible poppy track punctuated by a loud but tasteful guitar solo that augents the track’s excitement. From there the album weaves through a medley of styles, “Whole Lotta Losin’” pulls from Oberst’s Bright Eyes work (perhaps think of “Another Travelin’ Song”), and later tracks flirt with Ward’s 60′s pop obsession, and James’ country streak to produce everything from a country-western ballad, “The Right Place”, to the smoky and spinning “Slow Down Jo”, which floats in a haze of broad vocal harmonies and a breathing slide guitar. The album shines at points, but doesn’t avoid making mistakes; the cliché and forced “Losin’ Yo Head”, a messy attempt to recreate the 60′s, plods unimaginatively through an overused chord progression, feeling bland and repetitive.

Apart from some slip-ups and spells of mid-tempo lassitude, the album effectively showcases and interweaves the talents and influences of its creators to generate an album that stands immune to the apathy from which so many supergroups suffer. Instead we find an album substantiated not by sparkling studio production, virtuosic instrumentation or even particularly great songwriting, but by passion and delicate care, that upon repeated listens, proves more than just a successful collaboration, but a warm, enjoyable source of innovative tracks that couldn’t have been born to any other group but this one.

Tracklist:

1. “Dear God (sincerely M.O.F.)” – 5:07
2. “Say Please” – 2:48
3. “Whole Lotta Losin’” – 2:45
4. “Temazcal” – 3:49
5. “The Right Place” – 3:48
6. “Baby Boomer” – 2:53
7. “Man Named Truth” – 3:51
8. “Goodway” – 2:01
9. “Ahead of the Curve” – 3:40
10. “Slow Down Jo” – 3:21
11. “Losin’ Yo’ Head” – 4:37
12. “Magic Marker” – 3:20
13. “Map of the World” – 4:24
14. “The Sandman, the Brakeman and Me” – 3:23
15. “His Master’s Voice” – 4:50

Get it.

Hospice has been floating around for  few months now, but it took me until this past week to really get into it. And I really got into it. Peter Silberman’s frail falsetto and passionate wailing over the textures the band lays down make for an incredibly emotional album that floats between ambient lows and anthemic, soaring highs that stimulate a true connection between the listener and the music. Lifted from Pitchfork’s take on the album (like always…):

The Antlers’ skyscraping blend of the ambient and the anthemic is a far cry from Bon Iver’s subtle folksiness, but Silberman and Justin Vernon emerged from their traumas seeming equally scoured and eager to reconnect. Hospice is bereft of irony and cynicism, as befits a rather ghastly narrative that feels, perhaps deceptively, autobiographical. Centered around a relationship with a terminally ill child, and evocatively spun from eerie hospital scenery, snippets of conversations with doctors, terrifying dreams, and the periodic intrusions of Sylvia Plath, it becomes a broad meditation on guilt, duty, mortality, and hope in the face of hopelessness. The emotional payload, while artfully couched, is fervent and bleeding. Silberman’s affecting earnestness, not to mention his sweet voice, allows him to pull off lines like, “All the while I know we’re fucked/ And not getting un-fucked soon,” while sounding more prayerful than cynical.

Tracklist:

1. “Prologue” – 2:35
2. “Kettering” – 5:10
3. “Sylvia” – 5:27
4. “Atrophy” – 7:40
5. “Bear”  – 3:54
6. “Thirteen” (vocals by Sharon Van Etten) – 3:11
7. “Two” – 5:56
8. “Shiva” – 3:45
9. “Wake” – 8:44
10. “Epilogue” – 5:25

My faves: “Kettering”, “Sylvia”, “Epilogue”

Get it.