On Sunday, the New York Times ran an article about Jim O’Rourke, an underground overachiever who, in addition to recording his own solo music, has played in Sonic Youth and Gastr Del Sol, and worked in various other capacities with Wilco, Joanna Newsom, and Superchunk.

His latest project is the new solo album The Visitor, a recording that, at times, features as many as 200 tracks of instruments.

As one might imagine, an album such as this would require quite an intricate mix, which is perhaps why The Visitor will only be available on CD and vinyl—no digital download.

Read More “Has the Pushback Begun?” »

Wale: “Pretty Girls”
Wale reps DC, his hometown, hard in this song, which is rumored to be drawn from his upcoming debut full-length Attention:Deficit. “Come to DC and I can make you a believer,” he raps over a slow and funky hook. But Wale’s forgetting that DC, well NW at least, has long been characterized as “Hollywood for ugly people.” So there’s a good chance his chant-along chorus, “Ugly girls be quiet/Pretty girls clap like this,” will leave local audiences largely un-stoked.

Girls: “Hellhole Ratrace”
Band name aside, Girls isn’t offering up a whole lot that has to do with the female sex. Every spare measure of “Hellhole Ratrace,” is chock full of men. Wistful men. Melancholy men. Men feeling the great heartbreak. But, yeah, men all the same. “I don’t want to cry my whole life through/ I want to do some laughing, too,” mopes singer Christopher Owens. Strong men also cry, but this song, which stretches to almost 7 minutes, is positively bloated with tears.

Jonsi & Alex: “Boy 1904”
Sigur Ros front man Jonsi Brigisson and his partner Alex Somers have more streamlined approach to provoking elegiac thoughts. With it’s low drones, boys choir-style vocals, and field recording snippets, “Boy 1904,” from the duo’s upcoming ambient album Riceboy Sleeps, makes almost any activity performed during the songs duration feel sublime and cathartic. All that’s missing is a rain-streaked window to gaze out of.

Air: “Do The Joy”
Air isn’t big on substance, obviously, and “Do the Joy,” from its upcoming record Love 2 is appropriately ethereal. There are gossamer synths, fuzzy guitars, and the a voice that quietly murmurs, “Do the joy” over and over again, yet refrains from specifying exactly how ones does it. Conceptually, it’s a minor step down from, say, “Surfing on a Rocket.”

Clipse (ft. Pharrell): “I’m Good”
Clipse has finally leaked a track from it’s long-in-the-works follow up to Hell Hath No Fury and, surprisingly, it’s a love song. But before you get down on the dour coke-rap duo for going gushy, keep in mind that that the object of Clipse’s adoration on “I’m Good” is Clipse. Pusha T and Malice get all up on themselves, praising their taste in cars (”Hell yeah the rims match!”), their accessories (”Ice cubes on my chest, look at my blackberry freakin’ me on the texts”), and letting themselves know that they’re quite a catch (”Fly as I could ever be/ a level of success that you could never see.”) You have to hand it to them, though. When it comes to some Clipse-on-Clipse action, they’re not afraid to come on strong.

Ganglians: “Lost Words”
Remember that scene in Animal House where John Belushi rips the guitar out of a hippie’s hands and smashes it to bits against the wall? “Lost Words,” by Sacramento’s Ganglians, might insight a similar style of blind rage, at least for the hot tempered. Gilded in reedy falsettos and cascading waves of autumnal guitar, this is, ostensibly, a song about going to the grocery store.

Black Meteoric Star: “Death Tunnel”
A name can go a long way in techno. Were this song composed under a more upbeat moniker and given a title with a little more sunshine, it could easily be misconstrued as party music. But this is “Death Tunel,” by Black Meteoric star, and as such, the track’s pulsing sequenced synths suggest something more sinister. This is music for vintage-sci-fi dystopia and the darkest old-school Nintendo games.

Gang Gang Dance: “First Communion (TV on The Radio Remix)”
Less of a remix than a grudge-match between Manhattan and Brooklyn’s two most widely discussed art-rock bands. But there are no winners or losers here, just judiciously programmed 909s. TV on The Radio hurls itself into one of the better songs from Gang Gang Dance’s Saint Dymphna, stripping off some of the original’s lush synthesizers and locking down the tempo to a steady, if jittery, pulse. It’s hard to call it an improvement, but it’s hardly a throwaway.

10:30 PM – MARSHALL KEYS QUINTET
Marshall Keys is one of the most skillful alto saxophonists in the DC area, and as one of the opening acts for the Festival he brought with him an equally skillful quintet: trombonist Greg Boyer (who also works with Prince and George Clinton), pianist Benjy Parecki, bassist James King, and drummer John Lamkin.

Undoubtedly a swinging ensemble – but they opened their second set with a Latin-tinged riff tune that the band soon turned into a flat-out rocker. This turned out to be Wynton Marsalis‘ “Big Fat Hen,” the first in what Keys joked would be a set dedicated to “fowl. Our goose piece is coming up soon.” Actually, true to the festival, the theme was New Orleans, as evidenced by the next tune: an arrangement of “When the Saints Go Marching In” by big easy trumpeter Nicholas Payton (who will also appear at the festival). This second tune may already have been the highlight of the set, played as a midtempo hard-bop ballad, but with beautiful and unexpected harmonies added. Boyer, featured on the tune, delivered a cerebral solo that was both sensitive and muscular, Parecki following with a dancing, delicate piano submission.

The set continued with a couple of traditional New Orleans-style Dixieland marches, albeit with whiffs of the modern; soulful takes on standards and Crescent City legends; and a cha-cha rendition of “Happy Birthday.” All contained meaty, fruitful solos from Keys, Boyer, and Parecki. Easily overlooked, however, was James King; the bassist was perhaps the most consistent person onstage, with a steady hand and relentlessly smart lines but only two extraordinary solos.

Keys and his quintet play Bohemian Caverns again tonight at 8:30 and 10:30; they’re phenomenal. Don’t miss them.
Read More “DEJF: Opening Night at Bohemian Caverns” »

Skate rock (Think Sublime’s genetic material crossed with that of Minor Threat) is a lot like milt. Some people get a mouthful of the creamy white stuff and think, “So this is fish sperm. Not bad!” Other people take a bite, move it around with their tongues, and then say to themselves, “Oh god, I just put fish balls in my mouth.” They panic. They look for a trash can, a napkin, maybe some condiments to amend the taste. They crunch up crackers and squirt cocktail sauce directly into their gaping, fishy maws.  When that doesn’t work, they spit what’s left into their hands and shove it in their pockets.

Read More “White Trash Renegades: The Supervillains, Authority Zero, Pennywise, and Pepper at the 9:30 Club” »

A few months ago I was attempting to track down a local funk musician who played around town during the early ’80s. I wound up reaching out to Kevin Jones, since word had gotten around to me that he might have a few photos. As it turns out, my quarry was not among those pictured, which left both of us wondering who, exactly, is in these photographs. The pictures were taken in February of ‘84 at an unknown venue. According to Jones the kids are an extremely young Junk Yard Band, and the woman in the “Bomb Squad” t-shirt is likely from a group called Trinidad Bomb Squad. But the guys in the devil-costumes and space-boots? Unknown.

Photos after the jump….
Read More “Mystery Funk Band Photos” »

Tracing the global proliferation of dubstep’s subsonic frequencies over the past few years, it makes some sense that Dutch DJ Martijn Deykers (aka Martyn) was lumped in with the genre as it spilled from South London’s FWD>> dancefloor. The chest-caving bass and shuffling riddims exhibited on Martyn’s string of 12″s and remixes in 2007 and 2008 did share common ground with the London crowd, and catapulted him to international acclaim.

Read More “Q&A: Martyn” »

I recently flew across the country to watch a New York musician play a series of concerts in San Francisco. If that doesn’t seem to make much sense, consider that downtown legend John Zorn, a recent recipient of the half-a-million-bucks Macarthur “Genius” grant, almost never plays live except in New York City and Europe. But last week, he did a six-night residency at Yoshi’s in San Francisco, showcasing a different band each night, all but one playing material from his Masada songbook of tunes based on traditional Jewish scales and melodies.

I caught the last three shows: Bar Kokhba, The Dreamers and Electric Masada. Last Friday was Bar Kokhba, a sextet with violin, cello and guitar doing most of the melodic work with bass, drums and percussion backing. Two sets: the early set contained material from Zorn’s Masada Book 1 – the first 200 songs he wrote in the series – while the late set contained Book 2 material, drawing from some 300 songs Zorn wrote in a more recent burst of insane creativity. On record, I find the Book 1 material incredibly compelling (particularly as represented on the 3-disc set 50th Birthday Celebration Volume 11), while the Book 2 material is much more middle-of-the-road, the kind of the stuff you could play at a dinner party without offending anyone whatsoever. Live, though, it all got flipped.

My (very lengthy) full thoughts after the jump.

Read More “Excursion to the Left Coast: John Zorn @ Yoshi’s San Francisco” »

So I’m-a sittin’ here fighting off a head cold and watching a little Life on Mars, when comes a commercial break. What snaps me to attention are the fingerpickings of late Takoma Park native and primitive guitarist John Fahey—to be specific “In Christ There Is No East or West” (the ‘67 version, pretty sure).

It was the backing track for a Vaseline ad. Not the good-ole petroleum jelly, but whatever high-tech lotion they’re slinging these days.

May Blind Joe Death’s heirs enjoy their royalties, and their smooth, supple skin.

At Coachella 2007, smokin’ starlet Scarlett Johanson lent her sultry vocals to then-freshly reunited Scottish noise-poppers Jesus & Mary Chain’s performance of their best-known single, “Just Like Honey” (also featured in Lost In Translation). Roughly a year later, Johansson foisted an album of low key, lounge-lizard reworkings of Tom Waits classics (Anywhere I Lay My Head, 2008) upon the public. Critics tolerated the album, because, well it’s Scarlett! She can act! She can model! AND sing (sort of)! Now-as if taking on the work, talent and fans of one of the most respected experimental musicians in the biz wasn’t challenge enough, actress-turned-songstress ScarJo is drinking once again from the trough of overzealous do-overs, this time taking a shaky stab at the late Jeff Buckley’s “Last Goodbye.”

Johansson recorded Buckley’s single for the soundtrack to He’s Just Not That Into You, the film based on the Oprah-discovered-and-hocked self-help book for hopeless hangers-on by Greg Behrendt. (Johansson also stars in the film, along with Jennifer Aniston, Drew Barrymore and Ben Affleck.) As expected, bloggers, Buckley-philes and even Buckley-haters at Pitchfork ripped into the track (which can be streamed via Stereogum). The main complaint: Johansson’s vocal range is tragically terrestrial compared to Buckley’s gymnastic chords. Johansson can do soft and cigarette-smoky, no problem. But mastering the face- and heart-melting Buckleyan Willowy Wail? Not a snowball’s chance.

Nice try, Scarl. But please-step away from the mic and let the Buckley discography rest in peace.