Ear Plugs: DFA Showcase w/ YACHT: 10/22/09

by Nils Arrington


DFA... which stands for Disco Funk Alternative... I think... Or maybe it was Disco Frequencies (that) Alternate... Down For Anything? No no, it's gotta be Disco... something...

Upon walking up to the immense space known as the Brooklyn Bowl, for DFA's CMJ Showcase, I was still confused as to the significance of those letters. "Disco For Anyone?" I ask. The bouncer stares at me blankly for what seems like an eternity. "ID please." No luck there. $5 later and we're in. $5?? Oh glory.

Holy Ghost! are on as the faint crash of balls and pins echoes across the dancefloor. Projections all around display a looped video that reads "Sex", "Pot", and "Acid". Or, occasionally, "Sex", "Pot", and a picture of a donut. Touché DFA. "Disco Fantasy America?" I offer the dancer to my left. She gives me the thumbs up and politely makes her exit. "Let it go," my friend declares. For the time being, I do and allow the Discoy Funky Bliss of Holy Ghost to take over. Wait!! Discoy Funky Bli.... damn, so close. No matter. The single disco ball in the center of the floor bathes us in glittery light as Metro Area's "Miura" comes on. Actually, it must have been a remix but either way, I'm sold.



Shit Robot takes over the decks and may have held my attention (actually, that's a lie) except that my friend had spotted Mr. Murphy on the lanes. And, nearby, DJ accomplice Pat Mahoney. He gets a spare and seems surprised to have accomplished such a feat. Eventually my friend decides to venture closer. "Ask him what DFA means," I insist. She rolls her eyes and wanders over to the Disco Infiltrater... fo sho'.

Instead of putting my concerns to rest, she gives him bowling advice, leaving me with only one other option... text Flagstaff. "What does DFA stand for?" I type. Suddenly, two figures appear in the middle of the stage. YACHT! My pursuit can be put on hold for now. Their second tune, "I'm In Love With A Ripper" (my favorite), begins what can only be described as a disco cult extravaganza, complete with a "repeat after me" session that ended with, "I will not repeat after others". I believe this may have been the 3rd band I've seen that has used this trick... it was still funny though. At one point I was blessed by Claire L. Evans, for what, I'm not sure - but I was not about to question the disco high priestess.



After that performance, I was spent and unable to remain for Murphy and Mahoney disco offerings - but I will be back another time. "There will be other parties," a friend assures me. I check my phone to see Flagstaff's response. "You don't know??" Deplorable fucking attitude from this guy. "Hey! Deplorable Fucking Attitude," I exclaim. "You're not even TRYING anymore," my friend retorts. "Death From Above..." is all the second message reads. "Death From Above," huh?....... I don't know, I'm still partial to "Disco Funk Alternative". But who am I to question the disco spirit?

Film: Fallen Angel: Gram Parsons

by Dave Harmon


I recently netflixed Fallen Angel: Gram Parsons, a 2004 documentary produced by the BBC to outline the life and death of alt country's founding father. It is a well-paced and thorough reconstruction of his story with interviews that reach an astounding level of intimacy; the people in his life still manage to tap some of the pain that propelled Gram to perform great music and to ultimately self-destruct.

A quick summary of Gram's story for the unaware: Gram's life changed when he met Elvis and saw him perform as a little boy in 1958. He was sure he'd found what he would do: become a rock 'n' roll star. His life was quickly thrown into a tailspin: his father shot himself when Gram was very young, and alcoholism affected almost every adult in his life, including his mother. He would grow up studying all of the country greats and go on to form the first country-as-rock band, the International Submarine Band, after one bad semester at Harvard. After moving to LA, he replaced David Crosby as the keyboard player for the Byrds. Gram's influence led to Sweetheart of the Rodeo and a performance by the Byrds at the Grand Old Opry. He would go on to form the Flying Burrito Brothers and introduce the rock world to more country style from a band wearing rhinestones and Nudie suits. He would be fired from his own band, and move onto Gram Parsons and the Fallen Angels. He would duet with a previously unknown Emmylou Harris. He would overdose at the age of 26, before the release of his finest work, Grevious Angel. Did I mention that Gram also has quite possibly the most rock 'n' roll death scandal ever? After forming a funeral pact with his road manager, Phil Kaufman, Phil and a few friends stole Gram's body from LAX before it could be returned to his family. In a borrowed hearse, they took his casket back to Gram's favorite place, Joshua Tree, and burned him in a gas-fueled funeral pyre along the side of the road. Well...most of him; the rest of him is buried somewhere in Louisiana.

My initial surprise was the lack of footage that exists of Gram performing live. They had to rely largely on interviews of people who knew Gram, and this seems to make him seem larger than life; especially when someone like Keith Richards has so much to say. The big names are balanced by many interviews of the people who loved him, and this is somber stuff. Quite possibly the hardest for me to stomach was his childhood friend/fling trying to recount the night she watched him die; it is absolutely heart wrenching. Fortunately, not everything presented here is so difficult. They cover funny stories too including some great interviews with the Burrito members. One is with guitar player, Chris Etheridge, describing a disastrous concert tour by train (that they turned down Woodstock to attempt); Let's leave it at this: peyote and trains and people who ride trains are not the best combination.

My only real complaint with the film is at the end when the directors egg on Phil Kaufman to suggestively stand in front of a big fire in the desert night while describing burning Gram's body; the effect feels dirty and exploiting- especially right after watching Gram's widow, girlfriend, and sister all agonize over something that still clearly tortures them. They also dive a little too far into some secondary family weirdness for my taste. It meanders and feels cheap, especially compared with the high quality interviews from relevant musicians.

This documentary provides an honest and raw insight into the flaws and bright spots of a tragic legend. It really conveys the paradox that was Gram: both a bright spot and a waste of talent; someone who seemed to endure, but only did so on borrowed time.

I'll close with a great video of the Flying Burrito Brothers performing "Christine's Tune" (note the pills and pot leaves on Gram's nudie suit):

Review: The Twelves, The Twelfth Hour

by Nils Arrington



Thump, Thump... Thump Thump...

That's all you need. Seriously, that's all. Ask yourself, "Do I have a pulse?" If the answer is yes then you'll get it. The ability to have blood moving through your living veins is the only requirement to enjoy this mix. Obviously if the opposite is true, you wouldn't be here and reading this....... unless you happen to be a zombie. In which case, the zombie appocolypse is finally here and we are all dead. Although, even zombies get down from time to time.

ANYWAY, The Twelves, the duo from Brazil, have created a true hour-long dance party with The Twelfth Hour. Not 40 seconds in and the discoy funk of Groove Armada becomes too much to resist. Five minutes in and the soaring, powerful vocals of the Gossip take us even higher. Six minutes and we get our first healthy dose of danceable indie-rock with Phoenix. Blissful reprieve comes at nine minutes with Zoot Woman's coo-ing sensual tones. THEN around Eleven minutes, as though reminding us all that this is, in fact, a party, the duo unleash The Jackson's "Shake Your Body". The effect nearly gives me heart palpitations. Give me a moment to collect myself. The people on the floor below me must be wondering what that tapping is by now.



The Twelfth Hour is all glitter and disco... and I wouldn't have it ANY other way. Whereas some mixes meander and lose track of the original intent, The Twelves have securely planted this mix in the middle of the dance party. There's no mistaking it. Now, have they re-invented the wheel? No. The mixing is rather simple, many of the songs are recognizable and the remixed tracks don't do much except make the original track more ready for the disco floor. BUT I'm not really concerned with any of this. In fact, I'm rarely concerned with this when the resulting mix is so much fun to listen to! In the past, The Twelves have released great "attempts" at achieving this (30 Minutes of Twelves & Episode 2) but have ultimately fallen short. Episode 2 managed to incorporate a Radiohead remix as well as a, ahem, Fleet Foxes remix and somehow make it work (just barely). The newest installment, however, made it so easy to listening to The Juan Maclean, Air, Fever Ray, Black Kids, Cut Copy, MIA, and Radiohead stacked on top of each other that you would have thought they were meant to be together.



Comparisons can be made to groups like Daft Punk (whose track "Da Funk" gets teased around 3:30) and the funkier moments of a 2 Many DJs mix. However, a lot of what I'm hearing stems from the resurgence of funky, disco (and sometimes electro) influenced house music. I'm reminded of recent tracks from artists like Voodoo Chili, VERY recent songs from Duck Sauce, and much of the DFA catalogue.

The Twelves have been able to seamlessly blend these sounds, finding links and dynamics that mesh and tell the story of a party that blurs disco and dance till everyone is capable of finding a solid grip on the sounds. As I type and listen, it's hard to remain still. Time to get up, let your heartbeat sync to the rhythm, clap along, and shake your body to the disco beat. Thump, thump... Thump, thump.... or so goes The Twelfth Hour.

Re-Review: Arctic Monkeys, Humbug

by Dan Christman

This re-review is more of a response to Dave’s review of the new Arctic Monkeys album than a re-evaluation of it. Since I’m already breaking protocol, I’ve also decided to disregard our standard review format in favor of a collection of random thoughts.

I understand that the producer of an album can have a pronounced effect on its sound. Earlier this year, Britt Daniel applied his trademark minimalism to the White Rabbits’ excellent It’s Frightening, prompting most critics to treat the album as Spoon-lite. I contend that these critics hadn’t spent much time with the White Rabbits’ debut, Fort Nightly; an album with a few great tracks that was bursting with promise despite mercurial production from indie magnate, Chris Zane. They needed a producer to reign in their ideas and shape their sound, not create it. I’d further contend that a similar situation led to the Arctic Monkeys’ decision to have Josh Homme co-produce their third effort, Humbug. And while I ultimately agree with Dave’s assessment – “It is interesting enough that I find myself wondering about their next album” – it’s two drastically different interpretations that arrive at the same conclusion.

Humbug’s greatest strength is that it doesn’t sound like the first two Arctic Monkeys albums. Whatever People Say I Am and Favourite Worst Nightmare were nice albums but always left me feeling like I’d rather be listening to the Libertines. Had they made another album in that mold, they would have fallen off my radar; one more(often than not, British) band that’s content to make the same record or a bastardized version of it for the next fifteen years. I’m reminded of a conversation I had with Adam Lucas regarding Interpol’s third album, Our Love to Admire. He couldn’t understand the critical beating that album received “just because Interpol sounded too much like Interpol.” I respected that sentiment. Berating a band for sounding like themselves is unfairly austere, but after a few spins, I realized that Our Love to Admire was an album of B-sides at best. I believe the stylistic shift on Humbug is a reflection of the Arctic Monkeys' conscious decision not to make (maybe not specifically) Our Love to Admire. The band is exploring the possibilities of expanding their sound, not abandoning it. Humbug sounds like an Arctic Monkeys album without being redundant.



This is where Dave and I diverge. I feel like Josh Homme was a great choice to produce Humbug, but I think it’s unfair to overestimate his creative input. It's not another side project for Homme with the Arctic Monkeys simply serving to herd his creative instability. I can’t even consider it a collaboration. It’s an Arctic Monkeys record, and Homme feels more like a mentor than a producer. As opposed to what Britt Daniel accomplished with the White Rabbits, Homme’s greatest accomplishment is convincing the Arctic Monkeys to try something new. And while his influence is most evident on Dave’s favorite track, “Potion Approaching,” which could pass for Arctic Monkeys covering QOTSA, and “Pretty Visitors,” which could pass for a QOTSA cover of the Arctic Monkeys, the album’s best tracks, like “Dance Little Liar,” don’t owe much to Homme.



With the release of Humbug, it’s easy to imagine the Arctic Monkeys following the same career path as Blur. Over the course of twelve years and seven albums, Blur was (almost) never content to make the same album twice. After two albums of nearly identical, danceable, indie-fied Britpop, the Arctic Monkeys are exploring new territory both sonically and thematically. They’ve incorporated multiple layers to their signature bouncy riffs, creating a brooding and atmospheric album. It’s a success in its representation of a young band taking a step toward maturity. And although I don’t anticipate it being one of the year’s best, “it is interesting enough that I find myself wondering about their next album.”

Ear Plugs: Trouble & Bass 3 Year Anniversary w/ Skream & Benga

by Nils Arrington

What's the diagnosis for a melted face?



Found my nose... an ear... what appears to be a section of eyebrow... if someone could just turn on a light, I could find the rest of my face. Wait wait, no time for that!! They just dropped Caspa's "The Terminator"!!! The crowd erupts... and I still can't find my face. Then it dawns on me, do I really care enough to keep looking and miss all this???

Ok, let's back up a bit... 11 pm: show starts. 11:30 we make our way through the rapidly growing crowd and mentally prepare for an onslaught of bass music and dubstep. Le Poisson Rouge was a great choice for this one - intimate, cavernous, and a bit grimey. As always, the ever shifting array of tunes from T&B built the crowd up and up and up into madness. The usual gems are all there and accounted for. A special shout-out has to be made to Star Eyes who was on point ALL evening with her impeccable track selection and timing - Cheers to her! Later, I would realize that T&B weren't igniting a bomb, they were laying out a long fuse to set-up a massive explosion... wait for it.... wait for it.....

Introducing: Skream and Benga!! BOOM!!!!! Faces go flying left and right..... Can we rewind that?

The rest of the evening was conducted by a dubstep tag-team that just wouldn't let go of us! We were trapped. Bass all around, controlling our every move. "Wobble Wobble", as was indicated by one of the many cue-cards held by various T&B crew members and friends, explained everything. Oh wow, here comes Skream's remix of "In For The Kill" by La Roux!



It was an expected but oh so welcome addition. Ravey sing-a-long gives way to menacing sub-bass and a dark, achingly restrained beat before the eventual drum 'n bass-tinged release. I'm reminded of SO many things all at once: Dark, dank drum 'n bass nights, the bliss of a rave peak, and the incessant pounding energy of a bass-fueled audio orgy. Hours flew by effortlessly. Honestly, dubstep never sounded so heavy, gritty, and perfect as this evening. Skream and Benga were set to destroy, plain and simple.



A special treat was presented to us all at the end of the pummeling set. Skream revealed his remixes of Bat For Lashes and the new Chromeo song, followed by 2 tracks from his upcoming album! ALL sufficiently melted what was left of my face and left me numb from the bass. After picking up the pieces, we made our 4 AM exit and walked, stunned, to our beds. Dreams of wobbling, hands in the air, blinding lights, and earth-shattering dubstep drops comforted us through the rest of the night.



Oh, and if you happen to find the rest of my face, please inform me. I may need it for the next time the Bass decides to start some Trouble.

Review: Arctic Monkeys, Humbug

by Dave Harmon


Summary: Humbug is the third full length album from the Arctic Monkeys, who started as a very young British indie sensation that found an audience before a record label. Their first album, 2006's Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I Am Not, opened to blistering sales and a rabid following of fans who anticipated its release. The Arctic Monkeys initial offering followed a prescription of simple, fast, and bright pop with borderline-punk vocals and energy. I remember giving their first album a cursory listen, but I was apparently drawn to more tantalizing Brit rock prospects thereafter like the mind-blowing Band of Bees' Octopus or the beautifully flawed The Good, The Bad, and The Queen. The Arctic Monkey's music has certainly never been bad, just never really different enough to grab my attention. I still think their first album lacked some critical emotion that transcended its mechanical execution enough to propel it into exceptional composition; I do hear plenty of cockiness in the lyrics, but I rarely feel it in pace or affectation.

Something Nice to Say: I became interested in this album when I learned it was co-produced by Josh Homme. Josh Homme currently is a co-collaborator of the excellent Eagles of Death Metal, as well as the long time lead singer/guitar player of the Queens of the Stone Age. He's always done his best when working in an environment where he does not completely control the creative process; the best QOTSA work (R, Songs for the Deaf) came from combined efforts with members like Nick Oliveri and Dave Grohl, the worst came when Josh flew solo (the dreaded Era Vulgaris). This sentiment makes my job here simple: if you agree with me about Josh Homme, you are going to really enjoy Humbug. It takes a band with a confident sound and mixes it with the dirt of this new influence; the result is something that is progressive, experimental, and darkly cool for the Arctic Monkeys, but not overly ambitious. The fruit of their labor is clear with a full album of quality songs; not much filler here. Sample one of my favorites, "Portion Approaching":

Something Not So Nice: When I said co-produced by Josh Homme, I meant co-collaborated. I think it helps me to conceptualize this album as a collaboration and not really as a band/producer relationship. A few of the tracks on this album ("My Propeller" and "Dangerous Animals" especially) could easily pass as Queens of the Stone Age compositions. If you are an Arctic Monkeys fan and really loved their first two albums, brace yourself; I can understand how this turn has really upset some of the fan base. While complete in quality, Humbug is not the most consistent album- it is almost like one of those fancy layered shots that no one really drinks: one layer Arctic Monkeys, some Bailey's, one layer Josh Homme, and one layer of style mash-up that reminds me a little of another band's album, the Coral's Nightfreak and the Sons of Becker. I will not mince words: if you cannot stand the Queens of the Stone Age or the Eagles of Death Metal, do not bother with this album.

Would you admit to owning it: yes, and I am actively listening to it. It is interesting enough that I find myself wondering about their next album.

Final Verdict: A balanced collaboration between Arctic Monkeys and Josh Homme. If you can imagine the combination, try it.

This Just In: BlakRoc

by Nils Arrington


Many attempts have been made, over the years, to combine rock music with hip hop in a cohesive form. Some have been good (Rage Against The Machine) and some were abysmal (Basically any other band that has been labeled rap-metal). Now another attempt is being made with a, somewhat, surprising band at it's core. The Black Keys have teamed up with some of hip-hop's best MCs to create, a genuine blend using blues-based rock music as it's backbone. This project was made possible with the help of Keys' manager John Peets and, Roc-A-Fella Records co-founder, Damon Dash, who has started a new label with The Black Keys.



This project will be called Blakroc and will feature MCs such as Mos Def, Q-Tip, RZA, ODB, Pharoahe Monch, Jim Jones, Raekwon, and Ludacris, among others. On their official site, you can watch a video of Damon Dash discussing the project with The Black Keys, in Brooklyn NY, and bringing in several MCs to the studio to collaborate on tracks. Collaborations of this calibre should make anyone, with even a remote understanding of any of these artists, want to applaud the efforts - truly. Come November 27th, the official release date which happens to be Black Friday (haha, they're so clever), we'll see if this new attempt at bringing these two styles together will pay off.

Until then, check out the track "Hoochie Coo" featuring Mos Def and Jim Jones here.