The Twerps- Another One that Didn't Come
The Twerps- Dance Alone (via Rose Quartz)
Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.The collaboration between Lopatin and Mark McGuire, of Emeralds, is a post-Space Race ode to cosmonauts, astronauts, and monkeys, all those who braved the final frontier in the name of exploration. Like "Flight Simulator", "Dripping Water Hollows Out A Stone" channels nether-dimensions left unexplored by most humans, yet dreamt about my many.
Introduced Raw Thrills the other day and it seems like the freakazoid bedroom karaoke vibe really captured the spirit of spryly young minds all over. If you've headed over to I'm So Sorry Dad, you already know that Zak Mering ain't just offering aural vision quests, but visual treats to, including this video for "Rat Race" by collaborator Kevin DiTrapano, who tailors unknown synthetic psychedelic backayard snippets with pixelated, cross-colour subway footage for what is essentially an ode to 2oth century consumer culture, and rats shitting in the kitchen of a combination KFC-Taco Bell.
Pure Ecstasy just finished a jaunt up the west coast and from what I heard, the bands show at Aquarius Records in San Francisco was fucking phenomenal, which makes me even more excited for Nate Grace & Co's inaugural trip to Brooklyn at the end of the month. Consider this fine capture by our Tunnelvision brothers Yours Truly a primer for the excellent weekend that will be January 29th & 30th.
Unlike many of his compadres, Julian Lynch shows in the tri-state area are anything but a dime a dozen. They don't come that often, but when they do, the masses congregate, filling backyards, bars, living rooms to the brim with excited and mystified energies. That was the case last night at the PopJew curated show at Bruar Falls, which served as both a warming shelter and venue for Julian to hold court. Backed by Martin Courtney (bass), Alex Bleeker (guitar), Evan Brody (keys) and Matt Mondanile (drums), the set, which ran through the Lynch canon, could be described as a family affair. Most likely the quintet have been working the kinks out of Julian's songs in a basement in Ridgewood over the past week, that is, of course, assuming that they didn't already know each of his songs by heart. Someday (soon) I suspect many more will know all these songs by heart. They belong in the heart.
Ray Concepcion capturing Mountain Man at the Chocolate Bobka Church show two weeks ago. Amazing.
Deep inside the freak labs at Olde English Spelling Bee some serious Frankenstonian tweaker shit is going down. Besides expanding its web presence/digital footprint to its new blog/site, the higher ups at the perpetually zonked label are also set to issue another set of killer records this week, specifically a limited edition vinyl reissue of Grippers Nother Onesers (At Slimer Beach), which you may recognize as Lamborghini Crystal's 1992 Cool Runnings Holiday, which you may attribute to a certain dude who releases about 15 albums a year. Dedicated to Richard Ramirez, the vibe on Grippers is transmitted via a possessed transistor radio hell bent on scoring premium laced Sherm and hitting the town in search of the best Ice Cream-Pizza combo deal around, or as Lamborghini Crystal puts it, "I wanted the record to have the feeling of when you find a half empty bottle of anti-psychotics and just see the name of the owner and you wonder where that person is now." Tweak on.
Wafting digital sound waves in the dark are Oneohtrix Point Never's specialty. OPN reigns over the sci-fi fantasy realm of dark places and dark planets, crafting the sort of digitized mechanical hum I'd expect to hear coming from the control room on a spaceship docked just east of Neptune. Appropriately, the video, directed by Olde English Spelling Bee mastermind, and renowned man of mystery, Todd Ledford, compliments the song so much that together the two feel more like the pre-roll credits for a Blade Runner prequel than a music video, which I'm pretty sure is exactly what OPN (and Todd) were going for. "Time Decanted" can be found on the Russian Mind LP on No Fun Productions, as well as the Rifts 2xCD on No Fun Productions, where it's titled "Actual Air."
By now its apparent how much I love the songs of Marissa Nadler. Little Hells, her latest record on Kemado, seems criminally overlooked this year, despite great reviews, extensive touring and a masterful step forward in both her songwriting and production. Sort of makes me wonder, What if P4K had bundled that 8.1 with a BNM? Either way, like most of Nadler's output, its a daunting affair, one that resonates strongly with grey skies and dead leaves. There aren't too many records this year that I'd say are must owns, but this is one of them. Grab her entire back catalog, if you can, it's well worth it.
Anyway, a few weekends ago, on a cold dreary night in Brooklyn, Ray Concepcion headed down to the haunting Union Hall to capture Nadler in all her haunting beauty. The audio from this intimate set is extraordinary, as Concepcion bottles the essence of the Union Hall basement, filled with flora and fauna, taxidermy, and the piercing eyes of Grandmothers long since gone, through soft focus and a peephole perspective, sort of the visual equivalent of the way Willa Cather paints her novella A Lost Lady.