30 posts tagged “kateg”

PB&J and El Perro del Mar ♥ photograph by Michelle

At Webster Hall, the perils of sitting in the VIP balcony often outweigh the perks. True, it’s the ideal place for a certified midget like me, and there’s a private bar and quasi-comfortable seating – but one must also put up with being asphyxiated by the many fog machines, the not-so-subtle orgies taking place on the couches, and that one skeezy guy who keeps trying to offer you a flask full of absinthe. (“It’s the nectar of Satan!”)

But last night the VIP balcony was the place to be since it was the location of a historic fist bump between me and Andrew W.K.

I already knew he was set to make a cameo during PB&J’s set, along with a slew of others, but I did not expect our paths to cross. I don’t know what compelled me to lamely offer him my fist the moment I saw him, but all that matters is that he returned it and all was right in the world. Then he left, and I immediately texted my 13 year-old brother, who soon lapsed into an envy-induced coma.

Anyway: PB&J. I have to admit, I was really there for opener, El Perro del Mar. I’ve become obsessed with her latest LP, Love is Not Pop, as it is the perfect soundtrack for long nights of procrastination. Although the crowd didn’t seem too familiar with her work, she won them over with her peculiar brand of melancholy dream pop. She stuck to songs mostly from her new album, including her mind-numbingly lovely version of Lou Reed’s “Heavenly Arms.” The absinthe guy next to us dismissed her as “vagina music,” but I was too distracted by my estrogen-fueled state of euphoria to care.

Swede-fest ’09 continued with PB&J, who announced that this was their 10^th anniversary tour. It was easy to distinguish who was who, as Peter was the one in the pink shirt, Bjorn was the one not in the pink shirt, and John was the drummer. It only got slightly confusing during the smorgasbord of cameos that took place throughout their set. Some made perfect sense (El Perro del Mar on “Young Folks,”), some not so much (an L.A. rap duo who remixed an unrecognizable song off of Living Thing). The final cameo was Spank Rock, who seemed like a solid addition to “Nothing to Worry About” but his appearance was much too brief and almost abrupt.

Obviously the most dramatic cameo of the night was Andrew W.K.’s “interpretive” dancing during “It Don’t Move Me.” He didn’t utter a single word the whole time, yet he left the audience virtually speechless. It was spastic and random but ultimately the best moment of the night.

As for the band themselves, they were in top form as usual. Since the last time I saw them in March, people have warmed up considerably towards their newer material and seemed to enjoy it equally as much as anything off Writer’s Block. The band eschewed slower stand-bys for faster, upbeat songs from their first two albums, and they ended the night with the infectious “Objects of My Affection.” I was kind of hoping they’d play the slow burning track, “Up Against the Wall,” but my friend told me not to be greedy. After all, one paradigm-shifting fist bump was good enough for one night.

Weezer - The Good Life Weezer 1 comment Insect Weezer ♥ Hammerstein Ballroom, New York (10/31/09) Tour Dates 12/01/09 Aragon Ballroom Chicago, IL 12/03/09 Eagles Ballroom Milwaukee, WI 12/05/09 Air Canada Center Toronto, ON 12/07/09 Agganis Arena Boston, MA 12/09/09 Patriot Center Washington DC 12/10/09 Susquehanna Philadelphia, PA Discography [1994] Weezer (Blue) [1996] Pinkerton [2001] Weezer (Green) [2002] Maladroit [2005] Make Believe [2008] Weezer (Red) [2009] Raditude Read More Weezer http://weheartmus... There's no additions to the original album, the first disc is relatively short, being barely 40 m...

To fully grasp the emotional scope of this review, you should know three things:

1. My first kiss took place at a seventh grade Halloween party with some dude named Eugene. “El Scorcho” was playing in the background.

2. My first non-paste-eating boyfriend was my ninth grade algebra tutor, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Green Album-era Rivers, minus the braces.

3. In high school I was co-president of a dedicated Weezer fanclub called The Cuomosexuals. We mostly dissected Pinkerton lyrics, line by line.

Needless to say, this show (on Halloween, of all days) carried quite a bit of sentimental weight for me. Like most seasoned fans, I’ve pretty much abandoned all hope of Weezer ever releasing anything remotely listenable, yet I’m still willing to brave Ticketmaster fees just to hear “Tired of Sex” – even if that means sitting through gems like “We Are All on Drugs” and “Can’t Stop Partying.” In terms of band-fanbase relationships, Rivers is Sid Vicious, and we old-school fans are doped up, masochistic Nancy.

The show was at the sprawling Hammerstein Ballroom, an odd place to see the opening act: Matt & Kim. (Unnecessary Personal Fact #4: My friends and I saw Matt & Kim right after our senior prom. This night truly was high school redux.) I’ve seen them play in the backroom of a Texan bar and the bowels of a Brooklyn brewery, but this venue was by far the strangest. Despite this, they were as hyper as ever, dressed up as Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick and hurling candy and condoms into the audience. They won the crowd over by using “The Final Countdown” to segue into “Daylight.” Yes, they had t-shirt guns and giant inflatable spiders, and they were playing in a 1200-capacity ballroom – but there was no denying that this was the same band I saw after my senior prom.

Alas, if that was only the same case for Weezer. I should go ahead and say that I had a fucking amazing time. I was front row at a Weezer show, mere inches away from Rivers. This was the epitome of my high school fantasies. But something was amiss. This may have had something to do with the fact that they came out dressed like insects.

Rivers

Yes, when Weezer took the stage, Brian was as a beetle, Pat was a praying mantis, Scott was something vague and sparkly, and Rivers –ever the Kiss fan—was a big, fuzzy purple spider. It was cheesy and nerdy, two of Weezer’s hallmarks, but what really brought it home was when Rivers stormed onto the stage, one of his many furry appendages got tangled in a microphone stand, causing him to stumble. All of this happened within the first few seconds of “Hash Pipe,” by the way.

The theatrics were obviously a priority that night. Some of the stranger items of interest: Rivers brought out a ukulele with the sole intention of kicking its ass, Leighton Meester (a.k.a. Blair Waldorf of Gossip Girl fame) made a cameo to help sing some song off of Raditude, Rivers proved to be quite adept with a trampoline, Pat played Rivers’ guitar parts for most of the show, Scott sang “My Name Is Jonas” (blasphemy!), and they ended the first set with their infamous MGMT/Lady Gaga medley. Oh, and Rivers rapped Lil Wayne’s part on “Can’t Stop Partying.” Vanilla Ice would be proud.

As both an insufferable snob and helpless Weezer fan, I was torn. I went beavershit crazy during any song from the first two albums, but during anything post-2001, I’d turn to my friend and shrug, mouthing, Do you know this song? (Yeah, we’re assholes.) Soon I noticed that we were pretty much the only ones not creaming ourselves over a song like “Pork and Beans.” Weezer plays stadiums and ballrooms for a reason – and it’s because of this new breed of diehard fans who unconditionally love Rivers, regardless of his questionable facial hair and fondness for Snuggies. These are the people who close their eyes and sway to “Beverly Hills,” while restlessly checking their Blackberries during “Surf Wax America.” In short, these are Weezer’s true fans, whereas I represent their bitter ex who is stuck in the past with the emotional stretch marks to prove it.

They ended the show with “Buddy Holly,” which was good enough for me. My inner-seventh grader was dying to hear “El Scorcho,” but it went unplayed that night. I’m sure it was for the best, as it wouldn’t have been the same without Eugene.

 11/01/2009 15:16:06 ♥ kateg () ♥ www.weezer.com ♥ myspace.com/weezer

The band was deafening. Yuki was adorable. The crowd swooned. All in all, it was a very successful night and an emotional victory for anyone below the 5’2” mark.

El Perro del Mar – Love Is Not Pop

It’s easy to become infatuated with certain songs and albums, thinking of them as “ours” after repeated listening. That’s why people’s knickers get in such a twist when they hear their favorite songs in tampon commercials and One Tree Hill episodes. While this may be nothing more than snobbery, one could argue that it’s also some form of twisted, shallow love. It may not be the healthiest kind of love, but what do you expect? It is only pop music, after all.

On El Perro del Mar’s third (“mini”) album, Love is Not Pop, Sarah Assbring sings indifferently but sweetly about heartbreak, farewells, and prolonged bouts of weeping – all of which are well-worn topics in pop songs. Despite this, there’s a somber, mature tone to the songs that give the somewhat trite lyrics an edge. Besides, the love described in pop songs is often trite and cliché, but it’s usually the singer’s intent and level of sincerity that elevates it to something more. El Perro del Mar’s brand of honesty is simple and clear, and when she morosely sings about lying in someone’s “heavenly arms,” you can’t help but suspend your cynicism and just go with it.

Letting go of any immediate pessimism seems to be a key factor in enjoying Swedish indie pop, and once you do, the world is suddenly a beautiful (albeit still imperfect) place. Opening track, “Gotta Get Smart,” is a prime example of this. Through shimmering melodies and a bird-like “doot doot doot” chorus, El Perro del Mar decides to leave a steady relationship behind for good. As always, the contrast between the cutesy tunes and miserable lyrics is effortlessly done. This disparity is a running theme throughout the album, seen on songs like “Let Me In” and “Heavenly Arms.” She never shies away from slightly formulaic expressions and words, but the melancholy tone implies something deeper hidden among such stock phrases. These are pop songs, and yes, they are about love – but they’re not the kind of fluff you’d find on the local soft rock station.

The love El Perro del Mar sings about is not the kind of love often seen in commercials or One Tree Hill. It’s depressing and ends in soul-crushing despair. In other words, it’s probably too realistic for TV. On the forlorn track, “It Is Something,” she cheers herself up with a good cry when suddenly, the song blooms into a quietly cheerful, synth-infused celebration of the perks of heartbreak. It’s one of the few hopeful outbursts in the album, and a nice reminder of what kind of love with which we’re dealing. It’s not pop. It’s not happy. But it’s something.

My favorite songs are about rejection, despair, and soul-crushing loneliness. I also like songs that make you dance like an inebriated uncle. For me, these two qualities are not mutually exclusive. On Thao Nguyen’s latest album, Know Better Learn Faster, she provides me with plenty of material with which to dance/cry, a combination that I’m sure is freaking out my roommate.

Know Better Learn Faster starts off with a room full of clapping and hollering. “If this is how you want it, okay, okay,” sings Nguyen, along with a chorus of mournful voices. It’s a haunting dirge that quickly turns into a stomping hoedown, and it acts as an oddly appropriate segue into the next song, “Cool Yourself.” The chorus of voices returns for the oh-whoa-whoa refrain, and they make several appearances through out the album, providing a crowded, communal tone. It may not be a total Andrew W.K. vibe, but there’s definitely a party happening on this record.

But even at its most infectious, the album’s lyrics always hint at something slightly darker. On the rambunctious “When We Swam,” Nguyen mourns the loss of a drowned relationship, all the while luring in listeners with the instantly danceable chorus: “bring your hips, bring your hips to me.” As seen on previous album, We Brave Bee Stings and All, Nguyen showcases a recklessly bold and honest style of songwriting. “What am I, just a body in your bed?” she demands on the deceptively buoyant, “Body.” Even under a smokescreen of handclaps and cheerful sing-a-long refrains, there’s no denying the flare of aggression in her voice.

It would be easy to become overwhelmed by the album’s chaotic energy, but there are several respites from the party scattered throughout the album. “The Give” is definitely more subdued and reflective than the first four tracks, but it is by no means quiet. Taking on the persona of a family patriarch, Nguyen spins a bittersweet narrative about broken promises and tokens of regret. It seems like an unlikely interlude within such an upbeat album, but the melancholy tone weaves in and out of even the punchier songs. It’s never blatantly obvious, but it lurks in many of the songs, adding a touch of pathos to even the most rowdy choruses.

True, these songs won’t make you weep, but it’s definitely not mindlessly catchy fluff either. So whether you’re looking for something to dance around in your underwear to or something to mull over on the train ride home, you can probably find a good balance of both on this album. Either way, you won’t end up slitting your wrists or waking up to find unsavory pictures of yourself on Facebook. See? Everybody wins.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, The Depreciation Guild at Webster Hall, New York (10/3/09)

Before the show, my astute friend was telling me about an evolved species of “bro” that is quickly infiltrating many concerts. Much like their forefathers, these bros are loud, obnoxious, and harbor a strong fondness for Keystone Light, but these neo-bros diverge from the pack by maintaining a level of enthusiasm for the music that is so fervent – you could even call it “pure.”

With that said, you can imagine the mixed bag that constituted the audience that night at Webster Hall. Opening band, The Depreciation Guild, played to a crowded, eager room even though it was only seven o’clock. Having seen them before, I knew that ear plugs would be handy since their brand of upbeat shoegaze is beautiful – but slightly deafening. Fronted by the Pains’ drummer, Kurt Feldman, the band had most of the audience swaying to their melodic songs, which all melded into one long, pleasantly loud medley. They played in front of a giant set of television screens that flickered technicolored squares the whole time, making their entire set feel like a dreamy music video, circa 1989. Somehow, I think that’s what they were going for.

My ears were still buzzing by the time the Pains took the stage. Fame (or at least, blog fame) has yet to change them, as they seem to have maintained all the buoyant liveliness and low-key charm from their early Cakeshop days. Lead singer Kip Berman and keyboardist Peggy Wang repeatedly thanked the audience in an almost stunned tone, and this awed disbelief of all their success was an endearing theme for most of the night.

Higher Than The Stars 1 comment       The Pains of Being Pure       at Heart at The Depreciation       Guild at Webster Hall, NY      (10/3/09)♥photo by Hannah

Despite the size of the venue, it was a typical Pains show in every way: frenzied dancing, unbridled enthusiasm, and even some lame/awesome jokes (“Why can’t wizards have babies?” “Why?” “They have crystal balls!”) Opening with album favorites “This Love Is Fucking Right” and “Young Adult Friction,” the band had the audience singing along to every word – which is quite an achievement, considering how often indecipherable (in an adorable way!) Kip’s mumble tends to be. They played a few songs from their new EP, with tracks like “Higher Than the Stars” and “103” immediately winning fans over, and they even ended the night with the song that gave the band their infamously wordy name.

Having just finished an extensive tour, the band had all these songs –especially the LP ones—down flat, but at the same time, there was no denying their palpable energy, which easily translated to the crowd. As predicted, the neo-bros were in full force that night, but they were easily tolerated. I mean, it’s hard to hate someone who barks out the entire breakdown of “Young Adult Friction,” even if he does reek of Axe Body Spray.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart: creating a world where neo-bros and pop kids can peacefully coexist, one infectious chorus at a time.

Kings of Convenience – Declaration of Dependence

At their first show in New York since 2005, Kings of Convenience’s Erlend Øye joked, “This next song will sound like an old one, and you’ll probably cheer. But it’s not.” And so it goes with their latest album, Declaration of Dependence. It’s a seamless continuation of their 2004 release, Riot on an Empty Street. It’s all there: the flawless harmonies, the intricate melodies, the blunt, sometimes wordy, lyrics. But despite this, Øye and Eirik Bøe avoid being redundant. Strangely enough, the new songs are so similar to the previous ones that they are immediately welcoming, like a postcard from a long lost friend.

This sense of familiarity works in their favor, as most of their fans have been waiting for Øye and Bøe to reunite for some time now. Through his extensive solo work, Øye has proved his chops at electronica and proper rock music with his DJ Kicks series and Whitest Boy Alive stint. With Bøe, Øye returns to Kings of Convenience’s default format: deceptively simple acoustic songs, brimming with keen insights on love and everyday life. It’s a formula they’ve got down cold, and as a team, they turn their meticulous pop songs into something more and something beautiful.

Most tracks consist of nothing more than two acoustic guitars and Øye and Bøe’s polished vocals. Opening track, “24-25” starts things off quietly, a telltale sign of the boys’ return to form. But sprinkled throughout similar hushed tracks are small details of the band’s small move forward. A jaunty piano in “Me In You” offers a playful tone, while lively strings add a touch of irony to “Boat Behind’s” harsh lyrics. Although the album is primarily acoustic guitar, these minute details stand out, and when used sparingly yet efficiently, they distinguish this album from previous ones.

By only allowing themselves to indulge in subtle details, Øye and Bøe are free to focus on the band’s calling card: their vocals. Bøe sings lead on most songs, with Øye weaving in and out of the songs, adding an extra layer of warmth behind various words and phrases. With such quiet bravado between the two of them, they are able to deliver frank lyrics with a sense of humor. Throughout the album, they play on the idea of dependence and ownership in relation to love and day-to-day life. On the verbose track, “Rule My World,” the boys rhapsodize that “only someone who’s morally superior can possibly honestly deserve to rule my world,” all the while wrapping their pseudo-political message in beautiful rhythms and elaborate guitar work. It’s a lot of work for a song that, at first listen, comes off as just another pretty melody.

The boys have a talent for making their songs appear effortless, but further listening often reveals something new each time. It may be nothing more than the unassuming percussion or a charming turn of phrase, but Øye and Bøe have a knack for passing off the complicated as crisp and concise. Sure, they’ve been doing this since their first album, but it doesn’t make it any less striking. These days, when it usually takes an arsenal of glockenspiels and drum machines to keep a pop song interesting, it’s quite impressive that all these guys need are two guitars and the occasional violin.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart – Higher Than the Stars EP

A few months ago, certain people were sure that the apocalypse was nigh. Or at least, (for lack of a better term) the twee-pocalypse. Why else would a band like the Pains of Being Pure at Heart be on the Carson Daly Show or have a commercial on MTV U? The simple answer: they are a solid band who released a solid album. On their latest EP, Higher Than the Stars, the Pains once again showcase their pop prowess, all the while reminding us that it is possible to live in a world where our playlists can intersect with Carson Daly.

Consisting of four new tracks and one remix, Higher Than the Stars maintains all the rollicking melodies and winking lyrics found on their debut album, but there’s clearly something crisper and more focused going on. A track like “103” begins like any other Pains song, with an infectious beat and Kip Berman’s mumbled vocals, but towards the end, the synths and guitars kick in for a last hurrah, seamlessly adding another layer of interest to the song. It’s nothing major, but it’s definitely something new and intriguing.

The band has yet to move away completely from their jangly roots, but the EP hints at a slightly less lo-fi sensibility. “Falling Over” and “Twins” both lack the fuzz from the first album, but they hardly seem to be hurting because of it. “Twins” especially benefits from the cleaner sound, making the guitars more palpable and Peggy Wang’s background vocals all the more prevalent. Lead single, “Higher Than the Stars,” shows the band heading towards a more polished sound but staying true to their shambling aesthetic. It is the surprisingly ethereal remix of the same song that proves that the band has potential for experimenting with other sounds. Even under a heavy wave of drum machines and synths, the song’s simple chorus (“in the back of her mother’s car”) keeps all of its charm and wayward naiveté intact.

Despite the average pop kid’s reluctance to see their favorite bands succeed in the “real” world, I have no qualms about seeing the Pains acquiring even a Belle-and-Sebastian-level of stardom. They definitely deserve it. So go ahead, put them on awkward indie movie soundtracks or even an Outback Steakhouse commercial. I have a feeling it’s not going to change them.

Save for their breakout single, “I’d Rather Dance With You,” Kings of Convenience’s music is typically the kind of fare that lulls you into a dreamy sleep or provides an ideal soundtrack to a rainy afternoon. I thought their live show would be just as low key, but coupled with their humor and warmth, Erlend Øye and Eirik Bøe had plenty of surprises (including a special, Mac-compatible friend) to keep anyone from drifting off.

Kings of Convenience at Bowery Ballroom, NY (9/10/09) ♥ photo by Jason Kings of Convenience at Bowery Ballroom, NY (9/10/09) ♥ photo by Jason

As there was no opening band, there was a palpable sense of excitement within the crowd as Erlend and Eirik finally took the stage. For one thing, their music is quite subdued and most of their songs require silence from the audience to be fully appreciated. For most of the show, the audience adopted sort of a hushed awe as they played, making it one of the most reverent shows I have attended at Bowery Ballroom. As the boys often reminded us, this was their first show in New York in four-and-a-half years, so the audience seemed hellbent on making it special for them. At one point, someone in the audience yelled, “Play some old stuff!” and she was immediately booed into submission. The crowd that night was oddly defensive of the boys, wanting them to feel as welcome and loved as possible. It was sweet, but also somewhat off-putting. This is how cults form, right?

The band made it easy to incite such passion, as they were charming and hilarious all through the set. As a contrast to their lyrical and delicate songs, they told several quirky, amusing anecdotes (including a particularly endearing one about spilling espresso on Eirik’s pants) and Erlend made everyone swoon with his haphazard, quasi-robotic dancing. They even managed to complain about loud photography graciously, posing like pouting male models for two minutes to provide ample material for the cameras. With their offbeat banter and obvious camaraderie, they came off as sort of a melodic, quieter version of Flight of the Conchords – but with tons more street cred, of course.

Kings of Convenience at Bowery Ballroom, NY (9/10/09) ♥ photo by Jason

Oh, and there was music too. The first half of the set was devoted to the upcoming album, Declaration of Dependence. The new songs weren’t a huge departure from their previous material, but they prove that they are masters at crafting perfect, intricate melodies with seamless vocals. They debuted songs like “24-25” and “Mrs. Cold,” and the audience swayed in appreciation. My personal favorite, “Boat Behind,” features jaunty acoustic guitars and a simple “oh-oh-oh” chorus in their signature blend of flawless harmonies.

The second half of the show was all old favorites, including “Misread” and “Little Kids.” They stayed away from their more popular songs, but once again, the audience didn’t seem to mind. Their final song before the encore was a completely unexpected but perfect cover of Leslie Gore’s “It’s My Party.” They sang about Judy and Johnny with such goofy sincerity that they left the audience completely smitten, practically heartbroken for an encore.

Feist at Bowery Ballroom, NY (9/10/09) ♥ photo by Jessica Amaya

They obliged and returned with “The Build-Up,” a duet from their previous album, Riot on an Empty Street. Someone behind me said, “I wonder who’s going to sing the Feist part,” and lo and behold, a voice beckoned from the balcony above us – Feist! The audience let out a collective gasp, Erlend and Eirik grinned like little boys, the photographers elbowed people in the nose for a good shot, and I was filled with the sudden urge to buy an iPod nano. It was a lovely surprise, and she eventually joined them on stage, prompting everyone to go completely ape-shit and inciting a tidal wave of frenzied Tweeting.

But despite this, I left the show in a quiet and happy mood. It was exactly the kind of feelings a good Kings of Convenience song conjures up: a sense of calm that lingers for a while, making you both wistful and hopeful at the same time.