Pickup Sleepy While AC and Grouper were both phenomenal last night, the highlight of my evening may have come before the show when I noticed that Animal Collective was selling Kria Brekkan'sWildering 7" alongside their own merch and a bunch of Grouper vinyl. (If you are heading to upcoming shows, be sure to snag the Pumice split, I can't believe it's still available.) For a long time now I have been under the impression that this limited run single was long out of print, so finding it for 5 bucks at a former shipping terminal in the absolute middle of nowhere Manhattan was quite a pleasant surprise. Like much of Kria's work, Wildering plays like a black lullaby from a decrepit, abandoned old barn, where a young orphan girl lives with a family of mice, subsiding only on bread, water and worms. The sound of the wind in the house is like her dead parent's voices and often comes clattering in from the cold shore, shaking windows and making the floor boards creak an unsavory creak. Often horrifying, the young orphan girl takes comfort in the company of her rodent friends, who bundle crumbs for her and make sure not to naw away at her only blanket.
Lullaby One of my favorite shows of 2008 was the Kria Brekkan-Ólöf Arnalds performance at the Lutheran Church of the Messiah in Greenpoint. While Kria's improvisational, tape-centric piano ambiance was absolutely gorgeous, Arnalds, who, up until that point, I'd only known through her work with Mum, treated the seated audience to a beautiful set of Icelandic lullaby's and hushed ballads. The gig was so intimate that Arnalds actually breastfed her son, who had been crying all night, on stage in order to get him to calm down. Surely one of the cutest, albeit most bizarre moments I've ever witnessed at a concert, the real highlight, one which I repeatedly come back to, was "Klara", a lullaby that Arnalds wrote for her sister.
"I'd Rather Fall In A Tidal Wave" Last night I found out at that the Silent Barn will be hosting one helluva show this Sunday. The venerable Ridgewood, Queens DIY performance space will showcase the quiet sounds of Kria Brekkan (mum, kria & avey tare) and Portland's absolutely enchanting Grouper, whose Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill is showing up on a lot of year-end lists, and with good reason. Liz Harris, the brains and body behind Grouper, has truly captured the essence of night on Dragging A Dead Deer..., so much so that I often wake up unable to distinguish my dreams from reality. For this, I thank you Liz Harris. If you are doing anything this Sunday, besides watching the Giants dominate the Cowgirls, I suggest going to this show. Do it for the sake of your dreams. For fans of Julianna Barwick, Eno and Stars of the Lid.
"It Sounds Wonderful!" (Photo from NYC Taper) I finally got around to listening to NYC Taper's phenomenal recording of Kria Brekkan's semi-recent set at the Lutheran Church of the Messiah in Greenpoint a few months ago. Whoa! I remember the evening feeling as if the basement of the church were some hideaway on the great astral plane and the Taper's recording only cements that feeling. While the set isn't without its warts (chairs moving, blips, clicks, etc), it is an absolutely phenomenal capturing of an extremely intimate moment, one I haven't been quite able to shake since the evening. Kria's eccentric, hushed, utterly ethereal sound scapes are the stuff winter dreams are made of. That said, download this set asap before the chill of winter sets in and you feel like hibernating. It will aid greatly in the process.
PS-NYC Taper's got a new server and downloads are super fast. Highly rec'd snatching as much as possible, ya know, for the future.
As always, everything is also available as FLAC. If that's not motivation to upgrade your broadband speed and pick up a new external hard drive, I'm not sure what is. NYC Taper also has a CMJ Showcase at Cake Shop, Thursday October 23 from 3pm-7pm. Don't you love Free day parties during CMJ, best excuse ever to call in sick.
Pixie Dust Todd P sent out an email yesterday that read:
2NITE -> a special beautiful night of quieter sounds w/ Múm alums Kría Brekkan -&- Ólöf Arnalds (both from Iceland) -&- Sam Amidon @ LUTHERAN CHURCH OF THE MESSIAH
Immediately, I knew I was in. Even more so after my delirious eyes realized the Lutheran Church of the Messiah is a few measly steps from my front door. The basement of the Greenpoint church was dark and dank, quite the contrast from the cool evening outside, which seemed to usher in autumn. We arrived at 9 just in time for Kría Brekkan's set of tape looped, piano driven, whimsical dream cycles that flutter in and around your head like specs of gold dust after you've run into a brick wall. Quite refreshing, and entrancing too. Kría wanted the room dark and finagled with the lone flood light that lite the stage. She pushed a table in front of it so its ominous glow was more of a shadow than a spotlight. Her live show was much like I envisioned after hearing the Wildering 7"; gorgeously quiet, as if her music was seeping out from 5,000 years of frozen dreams. Kría often stopped songs claiming she was messing up, or didn't know the words, but she is so beautiful and charming on stage that none of that mattered, as if it should. Music to dream to, most definitely. Even reminded me to get back into William S. Burroughs My Education: A Book of Dreams.
Her former múm partner Ólöf Arnalds set was similar, albeit totally different than Kría's more experimental set. Leaning closer to traditional Icelandic folk than Lau Nau-ish experimentalism, Ólöf stunned the crowd with her voice, which sang like you wish your mother would've sung you to sleep. Of course, Ólöf is a new mom and her son was in the audience, arguably making more noise than the dudes running down the stairs, popping beer bottles and shuttering lenses. All good though, he was just hungry and when Mommy called him on stage for some food, and an acapella lullaby, he seemed to relax. Ólöf ended the evening by bringing VT bred ambient folkie Sam Amidon, whose set we regrettably missed, and Kría back on stage for a string of collaborations that carried me off into a purgatorial state, which I may still be in while writing this. Absolutely beautiful evening from some of Iceland's most provocative, most enchanting songstresses.
Next up, Sigur Ros tonight. Iceland's really taking over.
all songs are posted because we love them and think they make the world a better place. they are for sampling purposes only (duh). if you like what you hear, buy the record or see the concert!!! if you own the copyright to anything that appears on this site, contact us.
While AC and Grouper were both phenomenal last night, the highlight of my evening may have come before the show when I noticed that Animal Collective was selling Kria Brekkan's Wildering 7" alongside their own merch and a bunch of Grouper vinyl. (If you are heading to upcoming shows, be sure to snag the Pumice split, I can't believe it's still available.) For a long time now I have been under the impression that this limited run single was long out of print, so finding it for 5 bucks at a former shipping terminal in the absolute middle of nowhere Manhattan was quite a pleasant surprise. Like much of Kria's work, Wildering plays like a black lullaby from a decrepit, abandoned old barn, where a young orphan girl lives with a family of mice, subsiding only on bread, water and worms. The sound of the wind in the house is like her dead parent's voices and often comes clattering in from the cold shore, shaking windows and making the floor boards creak an unsavory creak. Often horrifying, the young orphan girl takes comfort in the company of her rodent friends, who bundle crumbs for her and make sure not to naw away at her only blanket.
