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Someone’s wall is about to get much more badass…

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Two years? Fucking two years? How did that happen?

Now This Sound Is Brave is two years old today. And year two was even more exhilirating, life-affecting and life-affirming than the first year. We have heard so much great music, seen so many righteous shows, talked to so many cool people and made some amazing friends. I could be here all day listing people who deserve our thanks, like the bands who share their work and sometimes their friendship with us, the good people who run and staff the venues where we see shows, the other blogs who have given us encouragement, the CXCW crew… There’s a whole damn lot of people, is what I’m saying.

But I do want to give individual thanks to four special individuals. First, to NTSIB’s beneficiary, the person who provided the idea in the first place, provides the access and provides the equipment that helps me keep this thing going, Duane. Next, to my intrepid co-blogger who gets giddy with me, makes me laugh and has more than pulled her weight lately, Jennifer. Then, to my wonderful friend, confidante, mentor and so many other things besides, Rick, whose encouragement, belief and helping hand have changed the whole game for me. And most of all, to YOU. You beautiful fucking people who come and read and check out the music and support the bands and support us. I fucking love you. Thank you for being here.

Okay, enough sentimental bullshit! I know there are five of you who are very eager to learn who won that droolacious Black Keys concert poster. That winner is: Jessica H! Jessica’s entry typifies the passion for music, and the passion for helping connect others with music (as a Black Keys fan whose co-blogger is a Panic! diehard, I could relate), that I hope we show here on the blog. Jessica, I’ll be in touch soon to find out where to send your prize (and, yes, I do want to see pictures of dog Dan Auerbach… oh, I do…).

For your enjoyment, the winning entry:

I remember my first not-Raffi concert vividly: my dad took me to see Ozzfest in Las Vegas. It was the first time I was cognizant of marijuana (“What are they rolling on their programs, dad?” “Oh, um, I don’t know, Jess.”) and it was the first time I felt the center of my chest vibrate, just as the concrete of Thomas & Mack was vibrating, from the incredibly loud music. Pantera played an extra long set (I didn’t know what a treat that was at the time) and I heard Black Sabbath play all the songs I’d listened to as a little kid with my dad. He shared a fond story of seeing Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult with my mom at the Ventura Fairgrounds in 1980 — it was so loud that they got noise complaints from miles behind the stage, so he said. And I saw Marilyn Manson who was my latest curiosity. The flesh-colored boobsuit? The Hilteresque podium and grandstanding? What did it mean? Why did he do it? It was so fascinating. But that’s not my favorite musical moment.

My favorite musical moment is probably my least favorite concert ever. I took my baby sister to her first concert: Panic at the Disco at a venue in San Diego. She’d been obsessing over them — my whole family knew all the lyrics to all of their songs because we heard Panic so much — and she was ECSTATIC to finally see them live. The venue was overcrowded — dangerously so — and it was hot. So fucking hot. The place was crawling with screaming adolescents. My sister kept wanting to get closer, closer to the stage and even though I saw security pulling crushed and crying little girls from against the railing by the stage, I acquiesced. My less-adventurous middle sister went to hang in the back so that left me, as chaperone, next to my baby sister who kept pushing forward. The crowd surged and swirled and I kept a firm grasp on my sister who was rocking a permanent grin. Since my adolescent Ozzfest, I’ve traveled the country to see amazing concerts, but I’ve never been so packed like a sardine at a concert ever. As the crowd swayed en masse, my sister and I commiserated about how soaking wet we and our clothes were. We realized that it wasn’t our own sweat — it was the sweat of the strangers pressed up against us. Yuck. Big smile. I saw fights and fists as people bumped into people. Feeling maternal (and unsafe) I asked my sister to go to the back with me but she pleaded no, please, Jessica, please, I want to be closer. Okay, okay. At one point she looked at me, I thought she was going to cry, I hope she was going to ask to move to the back, but instead she said, out breath, “Jessica? I forgot to wear a belt today and my pants are falling down and I can’t move my arms to reach down to pull them up. Will you pull up my pants?” So I elbowed my way down to pull up my sister’s jeans because the crowd was so tight that she literally couldn’t move her arms. That’s my favorite music memory: sharing my sister’s first concert with her because the mix of emotions that music elicits is to be shared. It might be a better memory than losing my virginity. Certainly more sweaty. Let me think about that.

As an aside, I’ve never really had a favorite band. Even when I was in elementary school and my friends screamed over New Kids on the Block, I was too cool for that. Those girls were stupid. I never had my own Panic at the Disco. I’ve loved Led Zeppelin, like everyone else (thanks, dad); I love Neil Young and Radiohead; and I had a pretty serious Talking Heads phase… But I don’t know if any of those are favorite musicians . . . Till the Black Keys. I’m an adult woman and the Black Keys are my favorite band. Like those girls in elementary school, I have a band I listen to pretty much every day; I have their full discography on vinyl that I’ve culled from various record label stores and music shops, despite my poverty; and I have a dog named Dan because he looks exactly like Dan Auerbach. The Black Keys introduced me to dirty, Fat Possum blues and I love them for that, too.

I can send you a picture of Dan Auerbach if you’d like but he’s wearing a cone of shame right because he just got castrated and he won’t stop licking his scrotum.

Love and thanks to the other entrants – Sam G, Ashleigh Jordan, Yoin Segundo and the esteemable Mr. Dave Polak. You rock hardcore.

 

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Video: Knock, Knock by Andrew Maze

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I feel like January has been kind of rough so far. Like perhaps we all need a nice bouncy pop song to chase away the still-heavy wintery darkness. Perhaps even a nice bouncy pop song that encourages us to climb mountains and visit Greenland? And comes with a delightful lyrics video?

Yes, I think so.  NTSIBBers, please join me in enjoying Knock, Knock by Andrew Maze, a singer/songwriter/producer from Moscow, Russia.

 

Andrew Maze - Knock Knock [Old Version]

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The Far West, Bitter Drunk and Cold

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NTSIBbers, if you haven’t already had the pleasure, please meet The Far West: Lee Briante (lead vocals / guitar), Robert Black (bass), Erik Kristiansen (pedal steel), Alan F. Rogers (drums) and Brian Bachman (guitar).

Collectively veterans of music scenes in places like Texas (all of it), New York (upstate and the lower East Side), Massachusetts (Boston and western Mass), Louisiana, the Gulf Coast (all of it), Alabama, and Sweden, they came together as a band in Los Angeles, CA early in 2010.

Their first record, Bitter Drunk and Cold, was recorded in less than a week at the American Legion Post 416 in Encinitas, California with the help of engineer/ producer Colin McLean, and released in 2011.

I was hooked from the first song – which happens to be the title track – and spent a week or two carrying it around with me in order to appreciate it properly. It’s good walking and thinking music; by which I mean, I would put it on as I was headed home after work and the next thing I knew 20 blocks had slipped by without my noticing.

These are some of the questions I had once I’d finished marinating in the tunes, and Lee Briante with the answers.

 

Did you name the band after the steamboat The Far West that was a supply vessel for Custer’s Last Stand? I happened to be reading The Last Stand, by Nathanial Philbrick this summer and saw several references to the ship, and I was just wondering.

We did not name the band for the steamboat, although it certainly is a great story and would be a great namesake. The Far West was decided on as we felt it captured a certain feeling of longing, searching as well as made reference to the frontier and the feelings linked to that.

 

Robert Black joined the band by answering a Craigslist post you made that was just a video of Waylon Jennings singing A Couple More Years. How did you pick that video to post as your band-mate wanted ad? Are you especially fond of that song?

I had been watching Hearts of Fire, the 80’s movie with Bob Dylan, late at nightand this scene interested me:

 

 

I looked up the Waylon Jennings version and it just seemed like the right amount of cryin’ in your beer & twang. The pedal steel by Ralph Mooney is beautiful and Waylon’s sweating and playing his heart out. At that time I wanted to build a bar band that would be playing songs like this at closing time. Shel Silverstein wrote A Couple More Years. In terms of songwriting, it’s just a perfect song that really captures something special.

 

I’m also curious about the title track of your record. I’m guessing it’s about Los Angeles? But I was thinking about it when I was there, last summer, how the place was so warm and sunny and yet felt so empty and still.

Bitter, Drunk & Cold is indeed about LA, my initial feelings after moving here from the east, a few of my personal experiences and the overall loneliness that a lot of folks that move here alone, not knowing anyone at all, and having certain expectations are bound to experience. Most people have come a long way to be here, in terms of miles, sacrifices and their own personal histories.

This makes LA a unique city in many ways. A transient city, with many folks coming and going, feelings of possibility and of absolute desolation are both abundant, oftentimes simultaneously. It can be the last stop for dreamers, putting it all on the table one last time, making one last push. That makes for a one of kind feeling here in LA, that love / hate dichotomy that you hear.

 

And I wanted to know more about recording at the American Legion Outpost. What made you decide to record there, and what was it like?

Our drummer Tony had a connection there, as well as his mother occasionally volunteering her time there, Tony had organized several all day musical jam sessions / BBQ’s there. The Far West had played a few of those, as well as several Friday & Saturday night performances.

The room itself has a great wealth of character, wood and tall ceilings, which added up to a room with great energy and sonic possibilities. These days a studio can be anywhere you can plug in microphones and equipment and when we asked the folks at the Legion if we could use the space as a studio they thought it was a fine idea.

They agreed to open the doors early so we could set up and work all day, as long as we didn’t mind working around them and customers when the opened the doors around 3pm. So over 4 or 5 days we set up and recorded all day, with deliveries coming and going, bar patrons tinkling glasses etc. Some of that noise can be heard on the album, but we wanted to record live, not in a sterile studio.

 

Finally, what’s next for you all? Tours? Videos? etc.

We continue to gig regularly in Southern California, write new songs and work on music. We are in the process of making a video or two, and are planning our return to the South-By-Southwest music festival in Austin this March. (Dates and times still TBA.)

 

And now for some video! First, the Waylon Jennings song that brought part of the band together:

 

http://youtu.be/dK9W_1TtYLs

 

And then two from The Far West themselves:

This is Where I Get Off, at the Redwood Bar:

The Far West - Where I Get Off (Live at Redwood Bar)

 

Town Called Lonesome, at the Hotel Cafe:

The Far West-Town Called Lonesome (Live Hotel Cafe)

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The Parlor Soldiers: Now I Wrestle Every Rhyme

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“You’re a little bi-polar,” he tells her, “and you get on my ass about drinking my liquor and smoking too much grass.”

She parries. “You know, you’re no Johnny Cash.”

“Woman, what’d you say?”

“I said, you ain’t the Man in Black, and I won’t be treated this way.”

But there is a wry, knowing edge in each of their voices that melts into affection by the end of their argument.

 

 

This argument is the third track, “Crazy”, from the Parlor Soldiers’ album When the Dust Settles, and showcases the essence of what makes their songs really work (and if you click up there, you can download “Crazy” for free). Backed by simple, slim but solid Americana-based arrangements, they are playful without coming off as if they are trying to hard to show how clever they are, and they are real without being precious. And their voices are so handsome that you want to date them both.

Forming in Fredericksburg, Virginia, after Alex Culbreth asked Karen Jonas to sing at some gigs with him, the two, each who had already established themselves as solo artists, added upright bass (played by Dan Dutton) to the mix and began writing and playing as the Parlor Soldiers.

“We spent several months coming up with different band names but none of them seemed to fit our style of music,” Culbreth told me. “We came up with The Parlor Soldiers after coming across a list of Civil War terms. It was a derogatory term meaning a soldier who was unfit for war, a poseur, or not a true soldier. We thought that it sounded good, liked the old-timey Civil War connection, and liked the fact that it was an insult.”

When the Dust Settles, which I’ve fallen a little more in love with at each listen, covers themes from giving an abuser his just desserts to being a woman with ramblin’ on her mind to being a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde duo driven to desperate ends by the economy and circumstance, with the singing, playing and songwriting shared evenly by Jonas and Culbreth. And the balance between those three elements is nearly perfect, never sacrificing their enticing musicality to showcase their smart lyrics, never working their chosen genre up into caricature and always singing strong and true.

 

 

 

And each time I listen to When the Dust Settles I want to hear those songs played live. You will, too, so take note of these tour dates.

Jan 25
Courtyard Marriott
Fredericksburg, VA

Jan 26
Kybecca Wine Bar
Fredericksburg, VA

Jan 27
The Dunes
Washington, DC

Feb 03
The Griffin Bookshop
Fredericksburg, VA

Feb 04
Northside Social Cafe & Wine Bar
Arlington, VA

Feb 08
Courtyard Marriott
Fredericksburg, VA

Feb 11
Colonial Tavern
Fredericksburg, VA

Feb 16
The Camel
Richmond, VA

Feb 17
Bar 4
Brooklyn, NY

Feb 18
Caffe Vivaldi
New York, NY

Feb 29
Strange Matter
Richmond, VA

Mar 13
Solly’s U Street Tavern
Washington, DC

Mar 31
Horseshoes and Hand Grenades
Fredericksburg, VA

Apr 27
Hill Country Barbeque Market
Washington, DC

May 11
The Corner Store
Washington, DC

May 28
Brewer’s Alley
Frederick, MD

Sep 07
Ashland Coffee & Tea
Ashland, VA

Jan 25
Picker’s Supply Concert Hall
Fredericksburg, VA

 

The Parlor Soldiers @ Bandcamp

The Parlor Soldiers @ Facebook

The Parlor Soldiers @ ReverbNation

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Anniversary Giveaway: The Black Keys

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How badass is that poster? So badass that, in my excitement to obtain it, I managed to acquire two of them.

So, here’s the deal: Now This Sound Is Brave will celebrate two years of existence a week from today. To celebrate this thing we do with the music and the writing and the writing about music (and writing about writing about music), we’re going to give a gift to you. Well, to one of you. But you have to earn it.

In order to own your own beautiful, 3-color, 18″x24″ lithograph poster (and it is even more striking in person) created by Jeff Proctor for the Black Keys’ December 11, 2010, show at the Rimac Arena in San Diego, California, you’ll have to tell us about an important music moment in your life. Be it funny or touching or something that will make us all want to slash our wrists, whether it involves playing music, listening to music or meeting a music hero, as long as it was important, influential and memorable to you, we want to read about it.

The sharer of the best music moment, judged by my own indefinable I’ll-know-it-when-I-see-it standards, will win my extra Black Keys zombie poster to have, to hold and to scare young children with. The deadline for entry will be 5 PM EST on January 26, and I will announce the winner on the NTSIB anniversary, January 27, giving you about a week to compose your entry. And that’s one (1) entry per person, please. Submit your entry as a comment to this post, and please remember to include a reliable e-mail address. (We reserve the right to share your story in a future post to the blog, though, of course, with full credit to you and retaining no copyright for ourselves.)

Good luck, kids. Thanks for being here.

 

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Love You Through The Storms: David C. Clements, The Longest Day in History

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The Longest Day in History [free Bandcamp download!], an EP from David C. Clements (formerly Captain Cameron) and contains only two songs. But they are stunning beautiful songs.

The first song is called Hurricane, and it is full of lyrical gems. It’s also a six and a half minute showcase for Clements’ magnificently supple and expressive voice.

 

 

The second song, Not Sleeping, is tiny bit more uptempo than Hurricane but no less compelling. Here is a video of him singing it at at Love Lounge, recorded by Pigmint:

 

David C. Clements – Not Sleeping – Live at Love Lounge from Pigmint on Vimeo.

 

And then there’s also his cover of Lana Del Ray’s Video Games, originally recorded live on the BBC Radio Ulster program Across The Line. I have a lot of deeply complicated feelings about that song, but his rendition has sunk its claws into my brain-meats and I cannot stop listening to it.

 

 

Finally, here’s a video Bandwith Sessions made last November at the Halloween Hoedown at the Ulster Hall, where Clements performed as his former incarnation Captain Cameron. The song is called In December.

 

David C Clements / Live @The Ulster Hall, Belfast

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Give: Shivering Timbers

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Not that they need our help, but they’re going to get it anyway. The lovely and talented Shivering Timbers, out of Akron, Ohio, are raising funds for their next album. I just found out about this Kickstarter project yesterday, and I see that Sarah and Jayson have already surpassed their original fundraising goal (that would allow them to produce a basic version of their forthcoming album) and have even surpassed their second goal (that would fund high-quality mastering, a vinyl release or both), but there is still a third goal that you can participate in that would allow high-quality mastering, plus vinyl releases of the forthcoming album and of their debut album, We All Started in the Same Place.

Aside from getting to enjoy more of the Shivering Timbers’ unique and enchanting music, the Benns are also offering up some wonderful and personal items as rewards for pledging: Sarah’s 1950s Bacon & Day banjo, Jayson’s 1965 Kay Galaxie hollow-body electric guitar, a quilt made by Sarah’s grandmother, a day in the studio with the band and more. Wow.

For a listen to some songs from their first album and some new material – including songs from their recent Daytrotter session – please visit their website.

 

Shivering Timbers @ Kickstarter

Shivering Timbers @ Daytrotter

Shivering Timbers Official Website

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Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Van Halen

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Okay, yes, I am.

About a week ago, apropos of nothing, I felt the urge to do a post about covers of Van Halen songs. There is just something about Van Halen that transcends aversions to spandex and sexism. I have a feeling it has something to do with David Lee Roth (I can still un-ironically enjoy “Hot for Teacher”, but I can’t listen to “Why Can’t This Be Love?” without wincing). Though I can no longer stomach most of the David Lee wannabees who so littered the wasteland of my youth, I am still charmed by Roth’s unapologetic showboating. And if you can’t rock out to “Panama”, you just don’t know why rocking out was created, my friend.

Here, I give you a few choice Van Halen covers, beginning with my favorite Van Halen cover: the Black Diamond Heavies doing up “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love” and proving that you don’t need guitar to be badass. And feedback-y.

 

 

Next, the minutemen covering… “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love”. Hey, bite me, it’s the minutemen. And since it’s the minutemen, it will only take a minute of your time. Less than a minute, actually.

 

 

Next up, San Francisco swingsters from hell Lee Press-on and the Nails add big, beautiful horns to the horny “Hot for Teacher”.

 

 

And to round us out, “Jump” as covered by… Aztec Camera!? Like I said: Van Halen transcends boundaries.

 

 

In a moment of serendipitous timing, a few days after gathering this list of covers, Rick Saunders dished the info that Van Halen was featuring a new single on their website. Check out “Tattoo”.

 

Van Halen – Tattoo from Van Halen on Vimeo.

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Band I Really Like: The Mountain Goats

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The Mountain Goats started making music in 1991. I learned about them considerably later, and they quickly became one of my favorite sources of what I can only call “dark dry bitter hilarious self-laceration you can sing along to.”

Today I bring you four videos – an introduction, of you haven’t met them before, a celebration if you have.

Woke Up New from Get Lonely, directed by Rian Johnson, who also directed the truly excellent Brick:

The Mountain Goats - Woke Up New

 

No Children, from Tallahassee; please note how the audience here is, in fact, singing along with great verve. Also, I really, really love this song, because it is kind of mean and awful and yet so perfectly describes a particular post-break-up feeling that there have been times I wanted to call someone and just play it down the phone at them at top volume. (I didn’t.)

http://youtu.be/JPy_fiv3sAw

 

Autoclave, from Heretic Pride; if I was going to make myself a warning label, it would include, among other things, the lyrics to this song:
http://youtu.be/RZ-2kbculaI

 

Sax Rohmer #1, also from Heretic Pride, because “I am coming home/to you/with my own blood in my mouth” gets me every time:

"Sax Rohmer #1" by The Mountain Goats