Daily Video, Gary Numan, I Am Dust

This video, for I Am Dust from Splinter (Songs from a Broken Mind) by Gary Numan, was made using a Tachyons + video glitch synth in combination with a HI-8 camera and a CRT television to simulate grainy VHS-style images, and no computer post-production was used.

(VHS: those tapes we all used back in the pre-DVD pre-DVR dark ages, when the enjoyment of a significant chunk of popular entertainment depended on the continued strength and resiliance of fickle, degenerating magnetic tape and VCRs we had to set by hand and then hope no-one changed the channel while we were out. We also had to fix mangled cassettes with our pens and carry our CIRCUS magazines home from Tower Records uphill both ways in the snow.)

Anyway. It’s a good song, grimy and aggressive and shimmering with industrial menace.

Gary Numan 'I Am Dust'

Guest Post: Joy Goes to SXSW, pt. VI: Saturday, March 15

The sixth and final installment, in which our intrepid reporter won a prize, enjoyed some fine audio engineering and also photographed a clean and tidy toilet. It was apparently that kind of day.


Last post I wrote about youthful energy and the fact that SXSW will truly kick your ass. Despite the fact that I’m somewhere just south of 30 myself, I was well and truly dragging by that Saturday. Forget making it downtown by noon: I called it a success that I was out of bed and dressed in real clothes, much less getting coffee near the day’s first venue, by 1pm.

Though it helped to know I was on my last day of festivities, it helped even more that I was seeing Kan Wakan again. As much as I’d liked the band before SXSW, I grew to like them expontentially more after seeing them a few times. That’s something I find hard to say about many bands, much less fairly new bands which have been thrown into the pressure cooker of a festival.

Like most performers, Kristianne Bautista is appreciative of as much support as fans can offer and will openly admit to stage jitters, but she puts herself into star league with the grace she exhibits under stress. Maybe it’s her excellent deadpan expression, and maybe it helps that she’s onstage with six other people who are handling nervousness at the same time, but she wears “frontwoman” very well.

That was especially apparent at the Cedar Street Courtyard Throwdown show, which featured a giant video screen reflecting the band behind itself into infinity. Kan Wakan played as flawlessly as I’d come to expect and the projectors made for some really fun photo ops; the show was probably my favorite of the entire week.

Plus, as the 600th person entering the courtyard, I won a free poster from Filter Magazine. One learns to appreciate small things at SXSW, especially when it comes to free shit. Can’t beat free shit.

In addition to catching some of the free vitamin D and a little musical history, I later enjoyed some of the Take Me To The River Showcase that was clearly audible across the water. The show ended before I could cross the bridge to see it in person, but I still felt as though I’d been in the presence of greatness.

Also, I really must commend the sound techs for their work with loudspeakers: the audio sounded super crisp even a quarter of a mile away over some trees, a lawn, and an expanse of open water. Because that was the case, I felt like walking the Austin Hike-and-Bike Trail was a better and more appropriate way to listen than standing in a crowded outdoor auditorium would have been.

austinjoy

Besides, there were no lines for the (clean and tidy!) public toilets. Insert “can’t beat free shit” jokes here.

toilet

Life can’t be all about sunshine, flowers, the smell of early-spring river water, and free outdoor showcases of Memphis music legends, though. After a perfect little hike, I had to get back to work — at another free show, this time on the rooftop of Austin’s original Whole Foods.

A hard life, right? Perfectly drudgerous, I’m sure everyone is thinking. Haha, right. If you’re actually thinking “that sounds awesome, you terrible little asshole,” you would be correct.

At the time, however, I was exhausted. I felt drunk even though I was sober. My grip on reality was probably wavering. It was hard to keep my mind off coffee and I wondered how everyone else was managing themselves. So it was a little refreshing and very hilarious that my fellow showgoers on the Whole Foods roof were managing by lounging in lawn chairs, taking off their shoes, and drinking beer: though the stage didn’t look like much, for better or worse it was probably the chillest venue I’d been to all week.

There, in that inauspicious location, I wrapped up my first SXSW experience with a set from Best Revenge.

The new project from Keaton Simons and Deantoni Parks had a lot in common both visually — one guy on drums, one guy on guitar and vocals — and sonically — big rollicking bluesy rock — with The Black Keys, but “the derivative of a derivative band” looked good on them. They melded hook-y sing-along lyrics, blues, rockabilly, and the hint of electronic beats into extremely danceable if unsurprising songs.

Parks, his kit lacking cymbals other than a hi-hat, played bass organ and cued samples with one hand while drumming with the other; Simons indulged his self-described “music nerd” side by switching frequently between a selection of guitars. Most notably, they looked like they had a lot of fun. It made for a positive and energetic show, a good ending point for my week.

Because when in Rome: After their set, I recycled my bottle of fresh-pressed juice, grabbed a cold-brew to go from my favorite Austin coffee spot, and went home.

As usual, people were still partying in my wake, making the most of their time on earth. I guess we had all learned something from our experience. But even if some people hadn’t, even if they were just partying on into the night because partying was what they knew how to do best, it seemed like everyone had a good damned time.

Final Thoughts: Even though it was often frustrating, could be frequently obnoxious, and drained a body’s energy quicker than my Android sucks battery life, South By Southwest was pretty awesome. I am SO doing this again next year. Probably still sans badge and maybe with a fuller schedule. But hopefully with all 10 functional fingers and long after a total recovery from pneumonia.

-Joy/@paleotrees

Milan Jay, Get Ghost

And now, from Milan Jay (scrappy little band of my heart, west of Ireland division:): Get Ghost. The song drops this Friday, and on Saturday, accompanied by their brand new drummer, they play their first show in 18 months in Egan’s Basement in Ballinasloe, Galway.

The rest of the new record will be along later this year; in the meantime, if you liked that, take a skimmy through their back catalog. It’s good stuff.

Daily Video: Nirvana, Smells Like Teen Spirit

Kurt Cobain has been dead 20 years.

My feelings about this are quite similar to how I felt when I received the news of his passing, which was stunned disbelief, followed by great sadness.

I was 19, and in college. It was a beautiful spring day. That’s what stands out, in my memory: the dew on the bright green grass, the chill in the air despite the warmth of the sun, the silence of a campus just waking up from winter.

People are still hearing Nirvana for the first time every day. But they are not hearing it quite as we did, the actual first time, when everything else on the radio sounded like Mötley Crüe.

Smells Like Teen Spirit is the song that got so popular Nirvana (or at least Kurt Cobain) found it embarrassing; that kind of success was, of course, the exact opposite of what they intended to do.

But if I had to come up with one song that encapsulated the feeling of leaving high school, leaving suburbia, trying to figure out what living in the (bigger) world meant, it’s this one. Even now, even 20 years on, it’s exhilarating listening to him launch into the chorus.

Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit

Covers of Note: The Emperors of Wyoming, Rebirth of the Cool

Today in country covers of rock songs: Rebirth of the Cool by the Afghan Whigs as re-imagined by The Emperors of Wyoming (Phil Davis: lead vocals, acoustic and electric guitars, Pete Anderson: bass, 12 string guitar, guitars, vocals, Butch Vig: drums, electric guitars, keyboards, vocals and FL Anderson: lead Guitar, pedal steel, lap steel, accordion, banjo).

They give it that classic high-lonesome sound:

And this is what they sound like left to their own devices:

Avalanche Girl by The Emperors of Wyoming

Hauschka, Abandoned City

abancit

All but one of the songs on Abandoned City, the latest release from master of the prepared piano1 Hauschka (Volker Bertelmann), were composed in a 10 day period following the birth of his first son. The result is a collection of tunes bursting with life and movement and packed with complex rhythms.

This is perhaps ironic, given that all of the songs are named for and/or inspired by by abandoned cities. Or, I should say, cities abandoned by humans; wind and waves and sun and sand and the creatures of the earth have asserted their dominion instead.2

The one song not named for a specific city is Who Lived Here. It is the most mellow track, and while it is specifically inspired by abandoned desert towns, it both evokes and reflects the combination of curiosity and dread felt by anyone, anywhere who comes across places that humans once lived, but have since fled.

All of the tracks are strong, and picking favorites is hard, but I did particularly like Pripyat (creepy and menacing, like a haunted house), Bakerville (rollicks like an old-time saloon) and Sanzhi Pod City (sounds like the thrill of the discovery of the otherworldly feels).

As an example/enticement of the treasures within, here is the video for Elizabeth Bay, named for a deserted mining town in Namibia:

Hauschka - Elizabeth Bay

1 “Prepared piano” means he has stuck foreign objects inside the instrument, like tambourines, or sticks, and so on.

2 Cities referenced are, in order of appearance: Elizabeth Bay (mining town, Namibia); Pripyat (located near site of Chernobyl nuclear disaster, Ukraine); Thames Town (new development rejected by consumers outside Shanghai, China); Agdam (abandoned during civil war, Azerbaijan); Sanzhi Pod City (also known as “UFO houses“, Taiwan); Craco (rendered uninhabitable by landslides, Italy); Bakerville (ghost town, Colorado); and Stromness (former whaling station and destination of rescue mission led by Ernest Shackleton in 1916; South Georgia Island).

Daily Video: Brown Bird, Live from Dirt Floor Recording Studios

In honor of David Lamb, of Brown Bird, taken much too soon by leukemia.

Brown Bird - Dirt Floor Recording Studios, Chester CT

According to their Facebook there will be a celebration of David’s life on Tuesday, April 8, 2014 in Providence, Rhode Island.

Details:

Location: Columbus Theatre in Providence, RI
Cost: Free and open to the public.
Performing: Joe Fletcher, Death Vessel, Alec K Redfearn and Last Good Tooth.
Time: Doors will open at 7:30pm, and the event will start at 8:30.

Daily Video: Quilt, Arctic Shark

This is the video for Arctic Shark, from Held in Splendor by Quilt. I’m not quite sure if I’m missing their visual metaphor scheme or if there just isn’t one, but it has been a long day and a long week and now it’s raining, so I’m totally willing to chill out in their sunny, warm-looking picnic area while they sing a sweet comfortable song and parade random objects past me.

Quilt - Arctic Shark [Official Video]

A Good Read A Good Listen and a Good Drink: Miss Shevaughn and Yuma Wray

It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.


Some of you may have seen Miss Shevaughn and Yuma Wray at Couch by Couch West, where they came to us live (if somewhat delayed) from their wedding reception. They did five songs, including three – Drifter’s Compass, Coyote and Bleed Me – from their most recent record, Lean Into The Wind.

They are all great tunes, but I’m especially fond of Drifter’s Compass, because I think it’s the kind of song you’d put on at either the beginning or the end of a long trip, as encouragement, or as solace:

Drifter's Compass - Miss Shevaughn & Yuma Wray (Wedding)

And also of Bleed Me; it’s a raucous stomper, and the one that hooked me on the record as a whole:

Bleed Me - Miss Shevaughn & Yuma Wray (Wedding)

I do not use the phrase “the record as a whole” casually; I really do mean the whole thing. It’s solid, no dead weight or filler, and good company, especially, as I discovered, on the downtown bus on frigid evenings.

Here’s one more song that I really liked; it’s called Oh Tornado, and it made me smile in wry, pained recognition. Yeah, we all have that person, the one who tears everything apart, and yet – and yet – when it works, it works so well:

If you’d like to catch them live, they are out on tour starting Sunday, April 6, in Fairfax, VA – New York, your show is April 11 at Grand Victory in Brooklyn – and ending June 4 in Washington, DC, but covering huge chunks of the United States between those bookends.

With that I will turn the floor over to Miss Shevaughn and Yuma Wray, who have graciously assented to share their favorite books, records and drinks with us.


Miss Shevaughn:

A Good Drink

Since writing, road testing, recording and releasing our latest album, Lean Into the Wind, process has been on my mind a lot. Yuma and I recently moved into a house in Paso Robles, CA that is the first place we’ve gotten to live by ourselves in the three years we’ve been touring.

Painting and fixing up the house took almost a month, and having my own kitchen has prompted me to embark on ambitious culinary adventures like cultured non-dairy cheeses that take days, or even weeks. I’ve been deeply enjoying things that take commitment, patience, craft and the willingness to slow down. One of these long-term experiments was a strawberry shrub that I made to serve at our wedding on March 1st tour.

A shrub is a vinegar-based drink that was popular in Colonial times and has recently enjoyed resurgence. It takes 2 weeks to make the shrub, but it is totally worth it! It also looks beautiful on the counter while you’re waiting for it to mellow. Here’s how you make it:

In a quart jar, muddle a few sprigs of thyme, basil or mint along with sliced ginger from a peeled piece about as long as your thumb (peeling ginger with a spoon is the easiest method)

Fill the jar with fresh sliced strawberries almost to the top

Completely cover the berries with coconut vinegar or apple cider vinegar. Make sure they are covered so that mold won’t grow on top.

Cover the jar securely with cheesecloth and leave it out on the counter for 12 hours

Put the lid on the quart jar and shake the mixture once every day for 4 days

Take out the herbs but return everything else to the jar shake daily for 3 more days

Strain out the solids and add 1 cup of sugar and juice from 5 limes to the liquid

Store in the refrigerator shaking once daily for 6 days

Now it’s ready to drink!

Sublime Smokey Strawberry Shrub

1 shot of silver tequila over ice

4 Tablespoons of shrub (modify this to taste)

splash of mescal

garnish with lime

Worth the wait.

A Good Read:

Speaking of waiting, all this thinking about the rewards of time and anticipation makes me think of one of my favorite books by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I was originally drawn to this author through One Hundred Years of Solitude, but I’ve grown to truly love the slow unraveling of Love in the Time of Cholera. This novel’s entire existence covers the distance that usually makes up only the climax or ending of any other story: the point where two people fall in love.

The story takes place over an expanse of time between the late 1800s and the 1930’s in a Colombian city that is dirty, ancient, haunted and colonial in a way that reminds me of New Orleans, where I spent a lot of my childhood. On some level the plot is simple. A man loves a woman. Her father doesn’t like him. She marries another man and is happy for the most part. He dies when he is old in a silly accident involving a parrot, and her childhood sweetheart once again professes his love.

He doesn’t win her over for 51 years, 9 months and 4 days, but finally persuades her to take a riverboat cruise with him. They end up drifting on the riverboat forever with the yellow flag of illness (cholera) raised so that no one will let them dock, and with only the captain and his lover as companions.

It seems simple and romantic but under the sweeping ideals of true love are human failings and frailty. There is also the strangeness of a love that has waited until old age to see itself through. Death, aging and illness are ever present behind the flowers and love serenades. Yuma and I first had a fling when I was in college and we just got married some 13 years later after I was diagnosed with cervical cancer and we sat on a long train ride down the coast wondering what would happen. In some ways we could have been suspended on that train forever.

Love in the Time of Cholera doesn’t stop where the young lovers take their lives or live happily ever after, it continues into death and beyond and forever.

A Good Listen

For my album, I chose Blue by Joni Mitchell. This record has all of the pace and surprise both musically and lyrically of something completely spontaneous, but is also clearly a work that was born out of real living and the processing of events, emotions and experiences. I know that I was exposed to this album at some earlier point. I grew up performing traditional folk music, and that folk music that enjoyed a Renaissance in the 60s and 70s with my mom. I also took a rock and roll history class in college while I was studying opera and I remember scoffing at the confessional songwriter styles of the 70s. I was really into punk rock at the time.

One thing that I’ve enjoyed about getting a little older is that I no longer feel the need to define myself by musical style or fashion. Something wonderful broke free at some point that enabled me to return to the folk songs I learned as a child with absolute love, and to listen to new music with a very open heart. When our first album, We’re From Here came out, several critics compared my vocal style to Joni Mitchell so I decided to check her out. Blue was the first of her albums I listened to and I am completely hooked on it.

It is one of those albums that I know I will listen to for the rest of my life. Sometimes it’s not about discovering new things so much as stumbling blindly across the things you had previously cast aside at a time when you’re ready and willing to let them enter your world. Time may be a completely imagined thing, but you do notice yourself change. Take the time to dig in. Listen to full albums, ponder a thought for days and create art that says what you really wanted it to say in as long a format as that takes. Others might see this as laziness or indulgence. But sometimes speed is carelessness or insincerity. Breathe deeply, think and enjoy.

Joni Mitchell - Blue

Yuma Wray:

A Good Read:

Starting with the book – I spend a lot of time driving on our tours, so my choice of novel may seem a little bleak, but… I really must begin with Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.

I’ve yet to watch the cinematic version of this tale, but I’ve read the book at least half a dozen times. And even though I usually end up shaky and tense with this tale of a man and his son wandering through a post-apocalyptic nightmare with nothing but a shopping cart full of whatever they can carry – all the while attempting to avoid the few remaining members of humanity that have survived (most of whom have turned to cannibalism) – it hasn’t stopped me from returning to read it time and time again.

Is this a metaphor for the plight of the few “starving” record companies left in the music business? I’m sure McCarthy didn’t mean it that way, but The Road is not quite as hopeless as it initially comes off with the first perusing. It is actually a tale about change and rebirth. It ends with the father (who remembers the world before it all burned up) passing on, and his son (who was born after the world burned) being taken in by another family with children of the same age. Is this hinting at a chance of a re-birth for the human race, perhaps? It is here where my joking comparison to the “burnt-out” music biz actually offers a little more comfort.

Without running the metaphor into the ground, for those that haven’t read The Road, it is horrifyingly stark and minimal tale of a world almost completely devoid of life where the remaining few devour what is left of themselves . . .

Did I mention that The Road might have influenced the lyrics at the beginning of When The Pumps Run Dry on our recent release Lean Into The Wind?

A Good Listen

So, next, the album – As Miss Shevaughn & I have finally got a place to hang our hats (we moved to California after concluding our fall 2013 tour) – we also have a place to plug in our record player. My choice for album is the double-LP, self-titled deluxe re-issue of the 1998 debut by Queens Of The Stone Age.

I must preface this by saying I am currently a Queens fanboy – but I didn’t start out that way. The first song of theirs that I can remember hearing was Feel Good Hit Of The Summer from their 2002 sophomore release, Rated R. Most people know the song even if they don’t recognize the title – because the lyrics are just a list of drugs spat out over a single heavy chord pounding away for three minutes. And that song
cemented them (at least, in my mind) as nothing more than a bunch of drugged-out California frat boys with guitars.

Fast-forward to 2008 – when I took a job at a bar in Chicago that had at least three Queens albums on the jukebox. Over the next three years that I was employed at this establishment – the riffs that were both aggressive & heavy and also laid back & subtle burrowed their way into my brain and have yet to be dislodged. And the deluxe reissue treatment that the double LP version was given saw some of the REALLY weird & more experimental songs that were originally left off returned to their rightful place alongside hypnotic hits like “Regular John” & “Mexicola”.

Queens of the Stone Age - Regular John (Rock AM Ring 2003) HD

The repetitive drone of Josh Homme’s guitars, the robotic drumbeats and the simple, understated pop format that these songs are presented in makes Queens Of The Stone Age’s first offering perfect not just for reading along to, but for long stretches on the road – driving from one show to the next. I love everything about it – as it both exciting and tranquilizing every single time I give it a spin.

A Good Drink

And now for the cocktail – which, unless I want to attract the attention of law enforcement, does NOT go equally well with driving or reading. Just reading . . .

I’m going to have to offer up a stripped-down version of the same cocktail that Miss Shevaughn has touted. There is something magical about the flavor of good tequila and mescal – a combination which I would love to take credit for myself, but which I actually discovered during my time as a doorman at Big Star bar & taqueria in Chicago. They make some of the based tequila-based drinks I have ever tasted.

To put the flavor of smoke and the desert in your cocktail, just mix the following:

(Over Ice) – 1 part silver tequila (preferably Don Julio Blanco – but, dear god, no Patron!) – mix with:

– 1 part soda water

– splash of mescal

– fresh lime juice from about 3 lime wedges (which can go in the cocktail once they are juiced)

Stir the cocktail, read the book, listen to the album!

Thanks for reading!