Melbourne Punks Plaster of Paris Distill Queer D.I.Y. Ethos on Debut LP Lost Familiar

Photo Credit: Kalindy Williams

Melbourne three-piece post-punk purveyors Plaster of Paris are bristling, vulnerable and truthful on their debut album, Lost Familiar, out June 23. After years of thrilling Melbourne with brain-shuddering, pelvic-shaking garage rock on stage at some of Melbourne’s finest rock venues including The Tote Hotel, The Old Bar, and The Espy, putting their raw, live energy on record has been long-awaited.  

Formed nearly a decade ago, shifting lineups and changing band names solidified in the last five years, bringing us the Plaster of Paris we know and love today: Zec Zechner is on vocals, Sarah Blaby is the goddess of guitar riffs, and Nicola Bell is deadly behind the drum kit. Zechner came from a grassroots, feminist, DIY collective from the inner West of Sydney, while Blaby is Melbourne born and bred. The two met when their former bands played shows and toured together. Both were involved in queer-friendly, trans-friendly shows and bonded over their proactive political and personal attitude to art.

“We’re not your average four piece – we don’t have a bass player,” explains Zechner. “Essentially, Sarah and I write songs together. I write the lyrics, and I like to use a really organic process – having a theme, a really visual idea, and building a song up slowly, like a painting. I like to use really visually strong lyrics, built around how I see the world. It’s almost a diarised experience. We’ll hum along a melody, then Sarah will write a riff around it. Then I’ll polyrhythm, and weave it in and out of guitars. And of course, Nicola’s an amazing drummer and an amazing filmmaker, who’s been nominated for multiple awards for her films.”

Working with engineers Casey Rice and Paul Maybury, plus post-production by Nao Anzai, Lost Familiar was recorded at Atlantis Studios in Tottenham, a church-based studio in Fryerstown just outside Melbourne, and the rest was done at Secret Location studios. The mastering was done at Rolling Stock studios in inner-suburban Melbourne.

“We love Casey, we love Paul,” says Zechner. “They’re fantastic engineers and producers. We wanted to work with Casey because they’re from a really DIY, punk background in Chicago. They’ve also worked with [Melbourne punk band] Cable Ties. They get a really punk guitar sound, which suits Sarah’s angular, sharp guitar – not unlike Gang of Four. Paul lived close to us, and we wanted to get the work done and finish the album sooner, plus the two of them are friends. We wanted a bigger drum sound and guitar feel, which Paul executes beautifully. He has a reputation for that real garage vibe.”

Nao Anzai has worked with big names in Australian music, including studio engineering for David Bridie and Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever, as well as doing live engineering for Tropical Fuck Storm and Alice Skye. “Nao is a wonderful engineer. He has worked on Cash Savage and the Last Drinks, Teskey Brothers – a lot of big names,” gushes Zechner. “It was just really good luck and a good friend introduced us to them. He did a beautiful job, and he’s got magical hands. He does a lot of live shows, festivals and things around the country and overseas.”

Thrashing out of the speakers with the spiritual essence of Hole’s “Violet,” Plaster of Paris’ “Newcomer” was originally released in 2017 on a dual 7” vinyl along with another track “Oh Wow.” The band decided to remix and include them on the album.

“’Newcomer’ initially came to me when I moved to Melbourne, but it took time to make sense to me,” says Zechner. “I talk a lot about Australian experiences – being a newbie, and reflecting on being the daughter of migrant parents. Moving from a small town to a big city, searching through dusty bazaars… searching for lost family, found family and connections, someone you can rely on to be there. That’s where the album title came from, too.”

Zechner’s dad is Austrian, her mother from New Zealand. “That’s informed my experience as a queer woman, growing up in a small town [Albion Park, south of Sydney]. Since 17, I was always moving to the big cities, fleeing childhood trauma: I’ve moved to Darwin, Canberra, Sydney. I’ve had a nomadic life, trying to fit in. I’ve worked in Indigenous communities in Darwin, and Nicola has too. That’s a big passion for us,” explains Zechner.

Another track, “Danceflaw” was inspired by the 2016 Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando, which Zechner responds to with determination to take a stand against terrorism and fear.

“I love ‘Danceflaw.’ That’s one of my personal favourites,” she says. “Both Sarah and I were in LA for a lesbian wedding in Palm Springs in 2016. We happened to be there during Pride and we were going to go out that night, but [the nightclub shooting] happened that night. The song is about how it’s political to stay visible, and remain visible, and to keep going to the dancefloors as a queer woman and queer person. Don’t let homophobia or outside influences pressure you into not being your fabulous self.”

Zechner and Blaby ended up going out that night and being together with community, drinking cocktails and supporting each other. “The next day, I remember seeing rainbows drawn on the footpath around Silver Lake in LA, and thinking about how beautiful that was,” she recalls.

The political and the personal are intertwined, anthemic and empowering on Lost Familiar, which has a wholly fresh take on the early ‘90s riot grrrl sound that was exploding in Zechner’s formative late teens. “My dad bought me a classical, nylon-stringed guitar for my birthday,” she recalls. “I remember staring at the Hole Pretty On The Inside cover, Babes In Toyland, Sleater-Kinney – also Sarah’s favourite band – then going to see Nirvana at the Big Day Out [festival]. I loved Nina Hagen and those big diva vocals, Marianne Faithfull, Anita Lane, and of course, Kate Bush.”

Zechner’s passions also extend into goth and darkwave bands like Depeche Mode, Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy and The Cure. “I love buying that goth stuff on vinyl because it’s so rare,” says Zechner. “I’d rather buy that than a meal. In iso, I was living in my Sisters of Mercy hoodie. I saw them in Melbourne and sang along to every song until I lost my voice.”

It was important to Zechner and the band that they align with like-minded people, so opting to release their album on Psychic Hysteria was an organic fit. “Psychic Hysteria has similar politics to us… we’ve worked really hard at keeping this precious DIY thing quite strong and really grounded,” she says. “Sarah worked with Kurt [Eckardt] at PBS [a local community radio station]. It was my idea to say, ‘Do you wanna put my band on your label?’ And he said ‘yeah.’ They’ve got some amazing bands like Hearts and Rockets, Zig Zag and Shrimpwitch.”

Having found a supportive community, Plaster of Paris are ready to thrive in 2021. They’re currently organising an East Coast tour; in the meantime, Lost Familiar provides a burst of their band’s “unapologetically queer, feminist and D.I.Y.” ethos, satisfying fans who’ve had to wait a while for a debut, and likely bringing new fans into the fold, too.

Follow Plaster of Paris on Facebook and Instagram for ongoing updates.

L.A. Post-Punks Agender “Preach” with New Video

Photo Credit: Chris Mastro

There’s a tension in “Preach,” the latest single from Los Angeles-based post-punk band Agender, of the world at a turning point. While “Preach” was seemingly made for 2020, the song was actually written late last year. “It was written in the old world,” says singer Romy Hoffman. She describes “Preach” as an “anti-elegy.” In other words, it’s not as bleak at is might appear on first listen. “It is positive,” she says, adding that the song is a call to “hold on to your power.” 

The video for “Preach” was made by Los Angeles-based filmmaker Anthony Maldonado, who has previously collaborated with Hoffman on visuals for her live, solo performances. “We weren’t sure this wasn’t going to be the first single but I think, with everything going on in the world, we just thought as a band that this felt right,” says Hoffman. But, the pandemic created some complications for making a video. “Obviously, everyone was very limited as to what you could do and where you could go and shoot and how you can shoot,” says Hoffman. “So it just seemed logical to me, the best thing to do would be more of a found footage kind of thing. I know Anthony’s very good at that, and I knew his aesthetic would suit the mood.”

Hoffman is a lifelong musician whose work has crossed genres, but bears the influence of punk. “Punk rock has been my staple,” she says. “It’s been woven into everything that I do musically. Growing up in the ’90s,  being around a DIY culture definitely shaped my everything – how I perceive the world, how I walk through it, how I react to things, how I make things.”

She adds, “My art has always been very immediate.” Hoffman describes her work as coming from a “pure raw place” that’s been accessible via punk. “I would say my musical career has always come from that urgent, raw energy, of just needing to make things for survival and just for existence.”

She launched Agender solo while living in Melbourne, Australia and played all the instruments for the project’s debut release. The first incarnation of the full band came together when she was ready to play live and that line-up went on to record Fixations, in 2014. Around the time of the sophomore release, Hoffman moved to the U.S., settling in Los Angeles. “It has this beautiful-brutal dichotomy thing that I love,” says Hoffman of the city, adding, “It’s this sunny, warm place but the music coming out of there at the time (and now) is really cold.”

At that time, in L.A.’s underground scene, minimal electronic, cold wave and industrial were thriving and Hoffman’s solo work, which she releases simply as Romy, was on a similar wavelength. “I fit nicely into that,” she says. She quickly gained a following around town as both a musician and a DJ. Agender made a comeback, though, after Hoffman met bassist Christy Michel, drummer Christy Greenwood and synth player Sara Rivas. As Hoffman points out, they’re a band with two Virgos and two Cancers and “it just works really well.” 

“It feels like family. It feels like we all support each other,” says Hoffman. “It feels very emotional, physical, spiritual.”

“Preach” is a teaser of sorts for Agender’s third album, No Nostalgia, which will be released in 2021. Hoffman wrote the record last year and the band recorded with former LCD Soundsystem member David Scott Stone between 2019 and early 2020. “We took our time with it,” says Hoffman, who finished work on the album right before the COVID-19 pandemic hit.  

It’s only been in the past couple months that the members of Agender were able to start rehearsing again. “We all have masks and shields over our faces and are crazy with disinfectant and hand sanitizer,” Hoffman says. 

Meanwhile, Hoffman has also been working on new solo material, which she may release in the near future. The band is aiming to release one more single at the end of this year and then drop the album next spring, but Hoffman says they’re also playing it by ear. “I’d like to release the record closer to when we know where things might be a bit more open and you can play shows in support of this stuff,” she explains. ” It’s very hard not being able to play shows, supporting stuff you’re releasing, especially when  we’re a live band. It’s so important to us playing it; it transcends the music to another level.”

Follow Agender on Facebook for ongoing updates.

cumgirl8 Launch Clothing Line with BABY.TV Telethon

cumgirl8 are neon goths making intraterrestrial post-punk tunes. The collaborative power of Lida Fox on bass, Veronika Vilim on guitar, and Chase Noelle on drums creates a sound both calculated and chaotic, drawing inspiration from The Slits, Diplo, and even video game soundtracks. Their non-musical influences include anime, drag queens, future tech, sex positively and so much more.

cumgirl8 have perfected their brand of punk elegance with hypnotic drum and bass hooks paired with an unmatched on-stage style, all while retraining a sense of humor. It’s no surprise they have been spending their quarantine working on a clothing line that launched Saturday, September 19 with a Telethon to raise money for the LBTQ+ homeless outreach organization Ali Forney Center.

We chatted with cumgirl8 about their debut EP, AIM screen names, and new gear they’re experimenting with.

AF: How was the process of writing and recording your self-titled EP? Are there any stories behind specific tracks you would like to share?

LF: We recorded and mixed it all in three days, tracking drums, bass, guitar, and vocals all together like we do when we’re playing live.

VV: It was very special – we recorded all the tracks live and would dance in the soundbooth to every track. I couldn’t stop crying all those days, maybe because I was PMSing, or maybe it was just the energy but it was pure magic.

CN:  It was sooo magical!!! I don’t think a lot of people realize that we recorded live to tape, not track by track. It was a moment in a room of the three of us together. It still surprises me that we did all of that in two days. We were just so excited to finally record after playing a ton of shows in the city.

LF: My fave moments were banging on the tubular bells, VV playing percussive drill through her guitar amp on “Clay People,” and when Dani came to do a feature on “Clay People” too. Shoutout to Ben Greenberg at Strangeweather for being the best!

AF: You have a really unique bass tone! What’s your set-up like? 

LF: Thank you! I used to play my bass through a Fender Super Reverb… I found my bass for $80 in a recycling shop. It has a super high range and you can change the tone a bunch, almost like a toy. 

CN: Lida, you know that Carol Kaye also played her bass through Fender Super Reverb??? (A guitar amp instead of a bass amp). She had someone cart it for her to every recording session. Lol that amp is so fucking heavy. 

LF: No way!! I don’t miss dragging it around.

AF: Do you have any new gear or sounds you’ve been experimenting with recently?

VV: My favorite sound for my guitar is my synth pedal. It’s so wild. I find new sounds with it every day! We used it for “Clay People” and it’s on some of the new tracks we’re recording too!

CN: Started running my drum machines through The Filter Factory by Electrix and getting crazy little freaqs out of it. I run it through a delay too and go wild. And finding new sounds with VSTs now that I finally bought logic.

LF: I’ve been making my own synth sounds and experimenting with new pedals on my bass, mostly inspired by video games and wind up music boxes. 

AF: What were your first AOL/AIM screen names? What’s your favorite meme format?

CN: chasehatespants. My favorite meme format is solely visual, like Oprah and Whoopi Goldberg’s faces photoshopped perfectly  on top of two girls in a super super sexy Fashion Nova outfits, with their full titties and ass out looking incredible, dancing on a video gamer chairs with a spilled bowl of Spaghetti-Os in the corner of the room. It’s not even funny. I just laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. 

VV: RuBbErDuCkYvV. My favorite meme format is using make a meme+ (the most basic cause I find the more basic the easier to understand).

LF: Totally – it’s like wtf but it somehow it just clicks.  I never had AIM :/

AF: I read that Veronika would make her outfits before shows. Was that part of the inspiration for the clothing line? 

VV: I make everyone’s outfits! I love making clothes! I don’t really use patterns, I’m more of a trial and error kinda girl with everything I do. I feel like that’s where my creativity comes out the most. And yes, the outfits for the clothing line 100% come from the past looks we have worn for shows. Actually we’re selling the worm outfit I made for the subway show too!

LF: She is literally a tailoring genius.

CN: Veronika made us outfits out of socks we couldn’t find the matches to. We wore them for a show we played on public access TV.

AF: How would you describe your clothing line in three words?

VV: Funky, fun, and neon.

CN: Loving, fearless, confident. 

LF: Hardcore Lisa Frank!

AF: Can you tell us a bit more about your telethon live stream and the organization you raised money for?

LF: It just happened but we’re putting it all on YouTube. We played hours of never-before-seen video content, a new music video, our cumgirl8 collection 0.1 fashion show, and the first live set of our EP since it came out, straight from the studio where we recorded it. We had some technical difficulties but it worked in the end.

The Ali Forney Center provides shelter and services to LGBTQ homeless youth. Their center is located at 224 West 35th Street, 15th Floor.

AF: What are your plans for the rest of 2020 and beyond? 

CN: SO MANY THINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

VV: We take it day by day! Who even knows! But def release a few more tracks and some music videos!!

LF: Shake the 8ball and stay tuned ;)

Follow cumgirl8 on Instagram for ongoing updates.

Bizou Premieres Stilllifeburning EP For a World on Fire

Photo Credit: Kristin Cofer

It’s one of those days. The sun is bright, but the news is bad and everyone’s eyes are on the clouds, peering from the windows of our hermetically-sealed homes, perfectly composed as if to somehow stave off chaos. On the surface, things almost seem normal, even as a slow-moving blaze encroaches. Enter post-punk outfit Bizou, with their latest EP Stilllifeburning: a fierce, yet plaintive collection of darkwave vignettes made for those solitary hours in a world on fire.

While Bizou’s sound has an inherent freshness to it, the LA-based quintet is comprised of veteran musicians – singer Marissa Prietto (Wax Idols, Glaare), multi-instrumentalist/producer Josiah Mazzaschi (Light FM), bassist Nicole Fiorentino (Cold and Lovely, Smashing Pumpkins, Veruca Salt), drummer Erin Tidwell (Tennis System, Jennie Vee) and guitarist Nicki Nevlin (Light FM). Time and experience has clearly benefited the band, as each single on Stilllifeburning comes across as the perfect synth soundtrack for days spent daydreaming about nights downtown, rubbing elbows with leather-clad shoe-gazers, eating ramen in the early hours after a show.

It begins on an urgent note: “Now there’s crashing sky / in your green eyes / a crashing sky / crushing you, crushing me too,” Prietto sings, apocalyptic visions swimming in the mirrored reflection of her lover’s eyes. “Burn Your Name” takes us racing down a darkened street, looking for a shadow, a memory of the person she once knew: “Fire to change you / fire to tame you / fire to burn your name / fire to chase you / fire to save you / fire to burn your name.” “Kiss The Stars” taps into the slow burn of a doomed romance; the lofty synths and Prietto’s sullen, wistful vocals give off some killer Say Anything vibes, if Lloyd Dobler had been really into to The Cure. Stilllifeburning is a story told in the alleyways, neon lights blaring in the windows of a club; it immediately gives off the sensation of watching a silent film, faint images flickering with only music to accompany each scene. Prietto hints at watching that disintegration from afar on “Trapdoor” as well as in a press statement about the record as a whole that uses the same metaphor: “If you could dive into the subconscious of another person totally separate from you, as if through a trapdoor — that to me would describe the feeling of these songs,” says singer Marisa Prietto.

Listen to AudioFemme’s exclusive stream of Stilllifeburning below and read our interview with the band.

AF: As a band, your pedigree is fire. How has the experience of working together in Bizou differed from past projects?

JM: We were all friends first so it’s very platonic in this band. We’re all really easygoing. and have many similar musical tastes.

NF: It always feels very natural working with these three. There’s a lightness to it, a flow that hasn’t necessarily been there in every project I’ve been in. It makes it really easy and fun to be creative!

NN: This has by far been one of my favorite experiences with a band. we get along so well and we are pretty much 100% on the same page about everything. It’s kind of rare!

MP: It’s really different starting a band from scratch as opposed to entering an established band with existing dynamics and work flow. I think that has made collaborating really easy for us. There is no hierarchy. Regardless of which of us brings in a song or an idea, we all have equal input on how that idea is ultimately executed.

AF: What aspect of the song-writing process is your favorite? A hook, a line, a melody? The moment someone layers on a sound that gives it that certain something?

JM: A lot of our songs stem from Marisa’s or my demos. When Marisa sends me a demo I get excited to chop her song ideas up in Pro Tools and add my own parts and melodies.

NN: I love the process of creating guitar lines with Josiah. Also love the moment the vocals are laid down on the track – you can hear the magic come together.

MP: I love it when Josiah chops up my songs. It always makes them exponentially better. As a singer it’s satisfying for me to discover a hook, but arranging and listening to my bandmates lay down their parts is my favorite.

AF: Tell us about the genesis of this new EP. You’re just released your self-titled debut last year. What did you go into the studio hoping to convey?

JM: I’m always in the studio, so for me my approach was trying to dedicate as much attention to detail and critical listening that I give to all the projects that walk into my studio.

MP: This EP is so different from our last one. The demos started from this much moodier, and I wanna say, straightforwardly post-punk sound. We wanted to mess with that format and tweak it until it became something more our own.

AF: Which song is the most personal to each of you and why?

JM: I really like how “Burn Your Name” turned out. It sounds like a goth Go-Go’s song! Marisa’s vocals sometimes reminds me of Belinda Carlisle.

NN: I think “Call of the Wild” will always have a special place in my heart because it’s the one that brought us all together.

MP: “Kiss the Stars” is the most personal for me. It’s a catastrophic breakup song sourced from one of my first-ever demos. I felt vulnerable bringing it to the group. The lyrics aren’t as distanced or metaphorical as some of the ones I write. It makes it a little unnerving to perform live sometimes which I guess isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

AF: At what age did each of you start playing music and what were your first songs about?

JM: I started playing drums when I was 12 in band and then in punk/hardcore and industrial bands in my later teens.

NF: About 14, I started playing bass. I was really into riot grrrl at that time so all my songs were about feminism!

NN: I started playing guitar at 13 and only played Hole and Breeders songs over and over in my bedroom!

MP: I started playing piano and doing voice lessons when I was 8 but I didn’t write any songs until I was like … 28? Seriously. And I didn’t play any of them for ANYONE until I was in my 30s. Late to the party but happy to be here.

AF: You have such a clear, distinctive sound and style as a band. Do you ever write a song or hook and you’re like: “Damn, this is not a Bizou song. This is totally Roy Orbison.”

JM: I’m always throwing song ideas at the band. If I write something that doesn’t sound like us they’re usually like, “nah.”

NN: Sometimes something super clubby will come out of the studio, which is a lovely surprise!

MP: Me and Josiah pass around demos all the time and sometimes we are like fuck this is cool but this is completely, like, not a Bizou song. Josiah makes so much music it’s insane, and not limited to any particular genre, which I love. Going forward I’d like to incorporate more of that, and take more risks with our sound. I don’t think want to be confined to a specific genre.

AF: What bands/music inspire you, but are out of Bizou’s genre?

JM: I’ve been working with this industrial/post-punk band called Aurat. They sing in Urdu. It’s really unique. They are within our genre but their background is definitely different but cool!

NF: Neko Case, Tegan and Sara, Nina Simone, Jenny Lewis, Fleetwood Mac.

MP: I’m not even sure what our genre is, but if I had to guess, it’s goth and goth-adjacent? I’m actually scrolling through my most recently played stuff and I it’s chaotic as usual: Clinic, Ariana Grande, Cleaners from Venus, Material Issue, Eartheather, Hunny, Holly Herndon. I don’t even know what to make of that.

AF: You’re an LA-based band. What about the city gets you going creatively? Any favorite spots?

JM: So many amazing bands from all around the world come here. It really is a global melting pot. Inspiring!

NF: My favorite spots are The Bootleg, The Hi Hat, Satellite. There are so many great venues here it’s hard to list! We have an incredibly supportive community. I’ve always felt that way living here. It doesn’t feel competitive here the way it does in some other major cities.

MP: I grew up in and around LA. As cheesy as it sounds, I do get a lot of creative inspiration from being here because I am bonded to the place and it really has always felt like home. Even in my worst times I’ve always felt in control and empowered just like, driving around on the freeways here because I know them so well. Being here gives me a sense of continuity that makes me feel grounded enough to stay creative.

AF: With Coronavirus keeping everyone at home, have ya’ll been meeting up via video chat? Are you still writing or just taking a break for the moment?

JM: I’m working from home and not in my studio. I’ve busted out an old 4-track recorder from my garage and have turned my couch into my studio.

NF: Just taking a little time to reflect on everything that’s going on in the world and how it affects me, my loved ones, our community. I think there’s gonna be a lot of amazing art that comes out of this time. But I also think it’s important to slow down for a minute while we can (and have to). Really puts a lot of things into perspective. Already I’m seeing the things I’ve taken for granted and already I can see the ways I am going to be different after all is said and done.

MP: I’ve definitely been writing— it all sounds like shit though! Until we can get into the studio with Josiah, it’s going to remain sounding like shit, and I am going to keep writing, because I need something to do with my hands in the time of Corona. I think we do have a band FaceTime scheduled in the next couple days. I miss everyone. I miss playing together.

Preorder Stilllifeburning HERE. Follow Bizou on Facebook for ongoing updates. 

PLAYING ATLANTA: Shepherds Explore Toxic Nostalgia with “Your Imagined Past” Video

For Atlanta sextet Shepherds, “genre” is a worn name tag hanging on by its last thread as theme and experimentation take prominence, rapidly setting the art-rock group apart in an ever-changing Atlanta market.

Since the release of their 2011 debut EP, Holy Stain, the band has been in a state of constant flux as they navigated rapid changes, from their lineup to the state of the world around them. Featuring the creative minds of Vinny Restivo,
Ryan York, May Tabol, Adrian Benedykt Świtoń, Peter Cauthorn, and Jonathan Merenivitch, the group released their expansive new LP, Insignificant Whipon October 18th, following a music video for their lead single, “Your Imagined Past.”

Interest spurred by the band’s pointed lyricism and social commentary, I got the opportunity to sit down with lyricist and vocalist Jonathan Merenivitch to find out what drives the experimentalist evolution that keeps the group moving forward.

AF: You guys have been together for almost nine years now, released two full-length albums, and evolved sonically from a minimalist soundscape to lush, textured art-rock. What has it been like to see such organic evolution and growth as a band? How have you evolved individually as songwriters, musicians, and performers as the years have passed?

JM: It’s been very natural. When we started we had an idea that we would sound like Smokey Robinson meets Jesus and Mary Chain. A simple idea, kinda gimmicky, but a clear goal in terms of sound. As we’ve had a variety of musical experiences both as sidemen and collaborators/leaders in other projects, we’ve learned the necessity of that kind of genre elevator pitch but also the importance of not boxing ourselves in as musicians. We used to be very concerned with the wildness and diversity of our sound but now we’ve accepted that wildness. It’s a bit of a challenge to describe what exactly we sound like now and honestly that’s how we like it. We’ve listened and played too much music to be hemmed in by anyone’s expectations. That speaks to how we’ve grown as individuals in all these roles as well. Through our experiences, we’ve learned to be better songwriters, performers, and collaborators. We wrote most of these songs in a few weeks because we know the pitfalls and figured out how to move past them. Recording, on the other hand… that took a bit longer.

AF: What does the term “art-rock” mean to you? 

JM: It feels kind of nebulous. It’s a sort of catch-all marketing term that gets used when a band seems kinda highfalutin and difficult to pin down. It works for us for now. It speaks volumes that the term has been used to describe artists ranging from fusion-era Miles Davis to Roxy Music.

AF: You tackle some weighty topics lyrically, from Catholic guilt and toxic masculinity to YouTube comments (a thoroughly modern source of inspiration). What inspires you as lyricists? How has music allowed you to express your discontent with the world we’re living in while also inspiring others to take action — or just make it another day? 

JM: I look at an album as a diary of whatever I was thinking about when I was writing it. This was written around winter 2016 so I remember I was going out a lot, dating, being depressed, taking consideration of what exactly it means to be a man, taking stock of weird political changes that were slowly coming around the bend and just being on YouTube late at night trying to find weird shit to listen to and watch. You put all those things together and you have the lyrical contents of the record. 

My hope with this record and all the things we do is that folks find we share their concerns and anxieties about living in this modern world and are inspired to do whatever they feel is appropriate, whether it’s finding some respite from this world or burning it all down.

AF: Can you tell us a bit about your songwriting process? Is it collaborative, or do you come in with a finished product and flesh it out as a group? 

JM: For this record, one of us would usually bring in a demo or a snippet of a chord change or idea and then we would either stick pretty close to the demo or tear it apart and put it back together again. Sometimes that would be a really extensive overhaul; for example “Perhaps This was a Thorned Blessing, Pete” started off as a heavy Black Sabbath-style tune and we ripped it up and sped it into a goth punk thing. “Savor Your Sons” was a 30-second loop of the chorus that we expanded upon greatly. Other times it was subtle changes. “Your Imagined Past” is very similar to the demo and “Blood Moon” and “Perfecting a Function” are the same arrangement-wise, but [we] just added new elements like saxophone or synth.

All Photos by Meghan Dowlen

AF: What do you love most about songwriting? 

JM: I love the puzzle aspect of songwriting. Taking a piece and trying to figure out how to make the arrangement as satisfying as possible. What the song needs or doesn’t need to make it feel perfect.

AF: Do you feel that you’re able to express yourself as deeply through instrumentation as the lyrics themselves, or do you feel that they enhance each other? 

JM: They enhance each other or in some cases inspire each other. The melody of “Perpetual Yearning” inspired the confessional nature of the lyrics.

AF: Which bands inspired your sound, and how have you evolved after years of playing together and in front of fans? How have the personnel changes affected you as a group, and how has it helped keep your sound fresh and modern instead of acting as an homage to a former lineup or a bygone era?

JM: There were a few sonic hallmarks and tidbits we were influenced by. The massive jangly guitar at the end of “Harborcoat,” the unusual percussion of Einstürzende Neubauten, the tambourine on “We Can Work It Out,” the soundscaping on To Pimp a Butterfly. The personnel changes have stopped us from ever getting too bored and each new person has added a new perspective that’s kept things interesting. We’ve recently been writing with a friend who has a background in bossa nova which has been interesting to experiment with.

AF: You released a music video for “Your Imagined Past” a few months ago. Can you tell us a bit about the song and what inspired it? Why did you choose it for your music video?

JM: The song was inspired by me reading the comments on a YouTube video for “Blinded by the Light” by Manfred Mann’s Earth Band. In the comments was a Baby Boomer lamenting a lost love and how they used to listen to the tune in his pickup truck. I began to wonder what kind of person would use the comments of a YouTube video of a classic rock song to express deep emotion and nostalgic regret and came up with the character at the heart of the song: someone who had nostalgia for a bygone era but was unable to reconcile it with his present. We chose it for the video because we wanted it to be the first single and the themes of the song lent themselves well to the themes of the video. Toxic nostalgia, Baby Boomer aesthetics, etc.

“You were full of shit then.
You’re full of shit now.
Your imagined past is just that.”

AF: What’s been your experience in the Atlanta market? How has the growing and changing scene given you space to grow and change as a band? 

JM: I think we probably fit in better now than when we first started for a variety of reasons. The growing progressiveness of the scene allowed us more chances to express ourselves and play bigger stages. There are so many great bands and so much opportunity to play with excellent musicians. Everybody seems to be in a few different projects because of the quality of players here.

AF: What’s next for Shepherds? 

JM: We’ve already started recording a new record and we’ll probably put out a new single by early next year. We plan on moving into new sonic territory. Less noise, more space, more melody, more focus on grooves. Something like soul music.

Keep up with Shepherds on Facebook, and stream Insignificant Whip on Spotify now. 

PLAYING DETROIT: Chandra Brings ‘Transportation’ EP to Third Man Records

photo by Kate Young

Chandra Oppenheim was a one-of-a-kind type of child sensation. Unlike today’s child stars that come to fame because of their popularity among their peers (think Justin Bieber or JoJo), Oppenheim was revered in New York’s 1970s underground post-punk scene. As the daughter of famed American artist Dennis Oppenheim, she was influenced more by her father’s contemporaries than her own. At the age of twelve, Chandra released an EP with bandmates Eugenie Diserio and Steve Alexander (of Model Citizens fame), sold out a show at Berklee College, and opened for avant-garde artist Laurie Anderson. The 1980 EP, Transportation, is a snapshot of the new wave/post-punk/noise movement, as told through the unfiltered eyes of a middle-school girl. But instead of sounding juvenile, Oppenheim’s forthright lyricism offers an innocent and universal perspective on everyday life.

In “Kate,” Chandra delivers Talking Heads-esque lyrics depicting the intricacies of young female friendship, societal beauty standards, and the male gaze. It’s a song that’s as brazenly relevant today as it was thirty years ago – a fact that is as astounding as it is unnerving. “Subways” paints a disorienting picture of getting lost underground –  a song as anxiety-inducing as any adult could have written. It seems that Chandra, before the age of thirteen, accomplished a level of artistry that most musicians strive for. But then what?

Now 50, Oppenheim has reissued Transportation for the second time along with a few unearthed recordings from band practice during that time. After teaming up with her Toronto-based band, she’s been performing the songs of her childhood in various venues across North America – including Detroit’s Third Man Records this Friday, February 1st.

The multi-disciplinary artist opened up to Audiofemme about her life between Transportation and now, and how we’re pretty much all just middle school girls at heart.

AF: What do you remember about the time when you recorded Transportation?

CO: The first set of studio recordings… came out in 1980. I was 10 or 11 when we were recording those songs, that first set. I was probably about twelve when we did the second set.

They do feel like two separate things because, I guess at that age, time passes slowly and there are so many things going on. For Transportation – because the other four songs weren’t released until the reissue in 2009 – I think it was what had to come out and it came out in the form of song. Whatever frustrations I had, fears, just trying to figure life out from that ten-year-old perspective. [It had to do] with what was going on around me too, because my dad [was] a big influence in my life and seeing his work and his thought process and these characters that he hung out with that were a part of my life – that was probably the number one influence. That, combined with being at school, and what my life was with my friends or people I had friction with.

AF: How did you feel recording and performing with these adult musicians? Did it feel different or just another part of your life?

CO: It was very natural. My father would pretty regularly have his kids as part of his art pieces. I grew up doing that and this seemed like a natural extension. It was just now me doing my art. In fact, if I hadn’t been doing that, I think something might have felt strange to me.

AF: After you released Transportation and went on tour – was there a point in time where it dropped off or you changed paths?

CO: What I remember is that the demands of school began to interfere with our band practice. There was this fork in the road – either I have all my focus and energy available for school, or I need to kind of let that go a little bit so I can focus on the band. And I chose the school route, thinking that at any moment that I wanted to have that back in my life, I could. And I didn’t realize that that’s very difficult to achieve, whatever the recipe is of whatever you’re creating and connecting it with people. I went to high school and went to college and maybe did a little bit of music during that time. I was probably always writing but I wasn’t in bands or anything like that. And then, after that, basically began decades of doing music because that’s what I did and that’s what I wanted to do, but nothing ever – it didn’t catch. The cogs of the machine did not sync up.

AF: What was the music you wrote in adulthood like? Was it along those punk lines?

CO: Yes, definitely. Especially I would say, lyrically. There was always this – which I share with my father’s aesthetic – this dark humor. Always questioning – the idea was that as a listener, you might not know – is this supposed to be funny? Because it’s really weird and scary but you can’t help but laugh… that’s kind of what I was going for but again I wasn’t trying to for that, it’s just that’s how it came out.

AF: Do you have any recordings from that time?

CO: I do and it is my big next life project to go through my archives and release some music because nothing was ever officially released. I mean there was one band I had where we actually did the whole thing – I think we have 12 songs on that record. We went into a really nice studio and the board was the same one that was used for one of Bowie’s albums. We did it on tape. It was in the ’90s and mixed and mastered, did the whole thing. But then we didn’t really put it out. And then I had this alternative rock boss nova band. We did an EP, we mixed it, didn’t master it so there it sits. That’s just two of the things. I also did stuff solo and I just have my own little recordings of that. They’re probably good quality enough too. If I get them spruced up I can out them out.

AF: Why do you think none of it was ever released?

CO: I wonder as we’re talking about this if there has to be some – I don’t know, there are millions of reasons. For myself, I’m wondering if there just wasn’t that magnetic pull of an audience asking for it that would’ve brought it over that edge to actually complete it.

I did this because I wanted to make it. But If I pressed it back then to CD or – it’s funny because everyone is listening to cassette everything now, and the ’90s band I was in where we mixed and mastered, I do have cassettes of that. So, like, I go to the extent of pressing this to some format, but then what? Who am I gonna give them to or sell them to? But the other thing for me, which I’m learning over time, is that I’m so into the process, that once I have the result, that’s where it ends. Its almost as if I don’t need the outcome. It’s just the process that I’m interested in.

AF: That makes sense. What do you think prompted this resurgence of the Transportation recordings?

CO: So, the history of that is Cantor Records in Canada.  It was a new label and this was the first record they wanted to put out – it was Aaron Levin’s record label. He contacted me out of the blue. Somehow, he tracked me down. I’m not on Facebook, so no one would be able to find me anyway, but it was long before that. So, he found me somehow through my father. That was 2009 – we reissued Transportation, plus the four tracks we unearthed in 1992 were released. Then from there, that’s how I met my current Toronto-based band. It was time to re-press that reissue because it was sold out and that’s when Telephone Explosion contacted us and asked about this deluxe reissue and asked if there were any other tracks and that’s when we brought out those demo tracks.

AF: What’s it like performing these songs you wrote as a pre-teen as an adult?

CO: It’s funny because I was just thinking about that. When I first started playing with the band in 2013-14, I really was in disbelief. The music was live. I had not heard live musicians playing this music in three decades. It was really hard for my brain to believe it. At first, I had to re-learn the songs and I probably hadn’t been singing all that much at that point in my life so I had to get back singing. So, it was challenging and the keys were high so there was that bumpiness to kind of get through. And now we’ve been playing a lot so it feels really comfortable and things are gelling really nicely so now I can relax into it and completely enjoy it and not trying to be remembering lyrics and everything. Really, for all of the songs, I’m able to immediately connect with myself at that time and the feeling of it. It doesn’t feel like someone else wrote them, other than that I wouldn’t be able to write lyrics like that now. I wouldn’t be able to access that strong connection to whatever that creative force is. In my way I do, but it’s years of all this stuff that bogs down the creative process. But other than that, it almost feels like there isn’t a passage of time. In a way, that is me and that’s how I still feel today about things. If not, more so, I mean some of the lyrics feel like premonitions of what we’re currently dealing with.

AF: Have you been writing any new material?

CO: The odd thing is that after writing songs almost every day for my entire life, over the past couple of years it hasn’t been there. Talk about missing something – it’s very strange not to have that. In a way, I don’t have my bearings. Recently, it’s started to come back. There’s a drip and a drop – a little something starting to come out now.

AF: What do you think led to that period of not really writing?

CO: Well, I worked on a performance art piece for ten years. I was still working on music, just not that particular piece. Anyway, that undertaking kind of did me in creatively. It drained me in a way. Normally, I’m fed by creative output but in this case, I guess I needed some time to recuperate. I had to actively end it because it was not serving me. I do have a recording of that – that one did get released actually. But there’s no way to find it. I make these things but then they’re not available. If someone wanted one and asked me for it I’d give it to them but, otherwise, they’re not available.

AF: Will you play any of the music that you wrote in your adult life on this tour?

CO: No, and that’s very intentional. I feel like people who like Chandra and Transportation – I want to keep that as its own thing. So, I will only play things from that time period or things we unearth from then.

Order Chandra’s Transportation EP here and keep an eye out for more tour dates.

PLAYING DETROIT: Deadbeat Beat Release New Single “Bar Talk”

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photo by Eileen Lee

Detroit garage rockers Deadbeat Beat released their single “Bar Talk” this week, and it is a chillingly accurate portrayal of bar-scene anxiety. The band – made up of Zak Frieling, Alex Glendening, and Maria Nuccilli – stays true to its trademark lo-fi sound on the single, with thrashing drums and warbled guitar. Glendening’s blasé delivery recalls proto-punk pioneers like The Modern Lovers and early New York Dolls, mirroring the mundane nothing-talk that inevitably results from seeing the same people at the same bars night after night.

Glendening says he wrote “Bar Talk” at a time when he was frequenting the same bar and felt disillusioned by the social scene. “I was experiencing paranoia from being at the bar too much, and having many ‘acquaintances’ that I didn’t actually know,” says Glendening. “Some nights, no one would talk to me. Other nights, people would want to know all about me and pretend like we had been longtime friends. I’ve since learned that this is just what happens at bars, but at the time it was pretty stressful for me… Also, at that time I was trying out becoming comfortable with being gay while hanging around a bunch of straight people at punk shows.”

The singer’s aforementioned paranoia is made apparent throughout the song, lyrically and musically. “You talk slick, but you’re full of dirty tricks,” Glendening sings to nobody in particular, before the song slows to a distorted crawl. The cloudy stupor is lifted as the song ends, only to transform into the sonic version of the spins, as Glendening decides to close the night with one last drink.

While the song undoubtedly captures the unpleasant cocktail of social anxiety mixed with overconsumption, it also serves as a dizzying metaphor for those meandering through the clusterfuck known as “your twenties” and a comforting reminder that punk rock is not dead.

Deadbeat Beat will head out on a mini-tour starting April 5th with stops in Columbus, Philadelphia, Brooklyn, and Detroit. The Detroit show will be part of a John Waters Birthday Bash where DBB will open for one of their favorite bands, Hunx & His Punx. See the tour dates and listen to “Bar Talk” below.

4/05/18 – Columbus, OH @ Ace of Cups
4/06/18 – Philadelphia, PA @ The Pharmacy w/ don’t
4/07/18 – Brooklyn, NY @ Alphaville w/ Bodega
4/08/18 – Brooklyn, NY @ The Glove w/ don’t
4/20/18 – Detroit, MI @ El Club w/ Hunx & His Punx[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

INTERVIEW: Wax Idols Redefine Their Happy Ending With New LP

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all photos by Kristin Cofer

For Hether Fortune of Wax Idols, there’s no such thing as a fairy tale ending. There’s simply life – the bleakest aspects of which have often become fodder for her musical output – and death, the finality of which she’s come to theorize may be the sweetest release. On Wax Idols’ forthcoming record Happy Ending, slated for release sometime this spring, Fortune spins another of her dark, personal narratives, with one major difference; she’s learned to give up some of the control she had over her past work and let what was essentially a solo project evolve into something she’s always dreamed it would become – a full band.

Though Wax Idols has featured other musicians in the past – nearly a dozen over the years, by Fortune’s estimate – it was always a vehicle for Fortune’s songwriting, with a revolving door policy when it came to who played along. “I’ve tried to keep things very fluid and amicable and friendly,” says Fortune when we speak over the phone. “[/fusion_builder_column][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][Other musicians] have been involved in varying degrees and it’s always been chill. You contribute what you want, I’ll credit you appropriately, and if you can’t do it anymore it’s okay.” Her laissez-faire approach worked well enough over the course of three emotionally raw LPs: 2011 debut No Future leaned heavily on the San Francisco garage punk scene from whence it came; 2013 saw a turn toward goth-tinged post-punk for Discipline + Desire; by 2015, American Tragic placed Wax Idols solidly in the moody dreampop sphere.

That was when a permanent Wax Idols lineup began to congeal. Multi-instrumentalist Rachel Travers, who played drums on American Tragic, became a core part of the band; Fortune’s longtime friend Peter Lightning (of Some Ember) joined them, and “everything changed,” according to Fortune. “Once we started playing music together, we realized that we could do this for real, like we could write together,” she says. “And that’s something that I’ve never really had. I’ve never had a pure collaborative relationship with someone.” Travers began writing guitar parts in addition to drumming duties. And although bassist Marisa Prietto would eventually opt not to join Wax Idols full time since she lives in Los Angeles, she ended up writing the chorus for “Devour,” which turned out to be one of Fortune’s favorite songs on the LP.

“I’ve always wanted this project to be a band – that’s why I called it Wax Idols and not my name. I was always hoping that the right people would find the project and stick,” says Fortune. The result of writing her first truly collaborative album, she says, wasn’t a distillation of her sound, but cohesion. “Now it’s much more streamlined; it finally feels more like what Wax Idols music really sounds like,” she says. “It’s taken a lot of weight off of me.”

Part of the reason those first three records sound so disparate, she admits, is that she was “trying to cram too many ideas into one place with Wax Idols.” Collaborating with a full band helped her focus and define the project, and while touring behind the reissue of American Tragic, an idea for the next album began to take shape. “[The title Happy Ending] came to me when we were in the van on tour two summers ago,” she recalls. “The initial concept was meant to be this sort of fictional narrative about somebody who has moved beyond the body, a kind of tongue-in-cheek happy ending, like: I’m not stuck in this flesh carcass any more.” Wax Idols released a single, “Everybody Gets What They Want,” as an early teaser. But in the wake of a tragedy that hit too close to home, the band shelved their work in progress, eventually scrapping many of the songs and reworking others. Fortune was no longer interested in writing an esoteric concept album – because she had to rely on writing music to save herself.

“I’ve had severe depression for as long as I can remember, paired with crippling anxiety, which turned into a panic disorder over the years. In the last year or so, it got really dark, darker than it’s been since I was a teenager,” Fortune says. “I have attempted suicide twice in my life. And I got pretty close at the beginning of last year to trying again. But I was able to pull myself back. Realizing how dark things were last year and seeing how it was affecting my loved ones, and my band and everything, I just was like, something has to change.” Fortune went back to therapy. And she began writing noise-driven solo material without any self-imposed boundaries, to move past feelings of self-loathing and self-doubt. “I just did my best to quiet those voices, or even if I couldn’t keep them quiet, I tried to give them an outlet in sound.”

She realizes now that at the beginning of her career, she’d tried to project a hardened, give-no-fucks attitude, but that in the end, this wasn’t an honest portrayal of the emotional devastation she felt inside. “I think that was empowering to an extent,” she says, “but a lot of it was really me trying to hide the fact that I was ill, and was really scared of dying. I think it does a disservice to myself, to fans, to peers, or whoever, to not tell the truth, which is that I have severe mental illness, and it’s a struggle for me every day.” In one of Wax Idols’ most arresting new songs, “Crashing,” Fortune sings openly about suicidal ideation – not to glamorize it, but as a way to communicate what it’s really like for those, like herself, that have been “at the brink of death.” Fortune hopes this radical honesty will help destigmatize mental illness.

“Crashing” is one of a handful of songs that survived the first iteration of Happy Ending, along with “Too Late,” “Scream,” and “Belong.” Wax Idols played them live for the better part of a year before taking them into the studio, which Fortune says made recording them “a breeze;” to complete the album, they put together “impeccable” demos, then re-tracked them at Ruminator Audio, where Fortune says she “worked her ass off” trying out new vocal techniques and experimenting with “the fun stuff – nuanced post production things, weird sounds and textures.” Fortune says the content of Happy Ending is some of the darkest she’s put to tape – which is no small statement, given her back catalogue – but that hashing it out in the studio brought her some relief, even if the bulk of that came just from being able to complete the record.

“It was painful content-wise, but [making the record] felt exciting and we could tell we were pushing ourselves, and it was a great record to make. It was difficult but it felt really authentic, it felt right,” she says. “[This record] stayed with me for a year and half through all kinds of hell and turmoil and struggle with creating it, so I feel like I had to keep it intact. I’m seeing it through ‘til the end, seeing the idea through.” That sentiment gives the record’s title its true weight; making meaningful art out death, out of struggle, and out of our darkest moments is perhaps the happiest ending any of us can strive for.

Wax Idols plays our Audiofemme showcase at Elsewhere, Zone One, on Friday, January 12 with Bootblacks and Desert Sharks. Check out Hether’s exclusive Audiofemme playlist below – we’ll see you at the show! 

MORNING AFTER: Vegan Noodles and Sake with Veda Rays

I internally scream about 20 times coming off the Q train, badgered left and right about handbags, handbags, handbags. Truthfully, last time I was in Chinatown I was below the legal drinking age. But Veda Rays vocalist James Stark made a very emphatic pitch for Bodhi Kosher Vegetarian Restaurant. So I’m here. I don’t want any handbags, but I’ll deal to dine with Veda Rays, and I’m down for any sake brunch that’s steeped in a sense of Eastern Mysticism.

If I’m not mistaken (I’m not) I have met drummer Jason Gates at Aviv. We’ve had bonafide conversations, his visage lives on one of my records, and he has a fun, eccentric energy that could power the Christmas lights on my street. As for Veda Rays as a whole, well, they’re the real deal, with a cerulean-soaked sound that could’ve been adjacent to the Batcave but has also been long cultivated in the Brooklyn scene. And their live performances pair it with captivating visuals; flickering television snow or twitchy orange monkeys set an ominous mood throughout.

Yup, these are the professionals, guys.

Hm. I feel good. In the past I usually show up with some sort melodramatic ennui. But I had my cards read Tuesday and things might be turning around.

Or they won’t, but let’s just get through brunch first.

The Scene: So yeah, this place. Recommended by a friend of synth player Maria Joanna Bohemia, the band have become obsessed with its kosher Thai offerings. Like they did a whole incidental vegan food tour of LA and this place is still top tier. And since they were long overdue for a visit and have been talking it up to bass player Renzo Vous (who still hadn’t been), it felt like the right move. They also love the Chinatown location, the appeal of old school New York; in his email James mentioned that their friend Ben Hozie of Bodega Bay said Veda Rays seemed “hatched out of the aughts NYC scene” (James only superficially agrees).

Sold. Although guitarist Gonzalo Tomé isn’t here today, Renzo and I are going to try out this food, and Jason arrives just as we’re about to get our sake. Let’s do this.

2:05 pm We’re talking about mutual friends (you already know where this is going, right?) and James says, “There was an old Veda Rays video where I killed Tarra.”

I respond as expected. “That’s the best!”

“Well, we pulled it down because it was…not being well received because of the violence-toward-women factor.”

Huh. “I get that, I get it being mis-perceived like that.”

“And when we made it it wasn’t such a Thing, but then there was a bit of rumbling, and as a couple of years went by we took it down,” James says. “But the premise had nothing to do with that – it could’ve easily been a man. It just happened to be a woman in the chair.”

So what was the premise, then? The band was riffing on maniacal, cultish figures to illustrate their song “Wait for Teeth to Show.”

“So the letter shein means tooth, right?” James starts. “There’s a tarot card that corresponds with that which is this fire card. The video would show flashes of the card, and the idea of a tooth in this context is like…in simplest terms it’s like, ‘The big fish eats the little ones,’ and you can’t understand the nature of reality in black and white, really. Things that seem horrible could actually be releasing energy so it can reform.”

“There’s a bigger purpose,” I fill in.

Basically yes. “But it wasn’t [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][about] malevolence towards women,” James concludes.

Anyway, Tarra’s very much alive and well – they saw her earlier this week reading tarot cards at Muchmore’s.

“She just gave me a reading recently and it was pretty positive,” I mention. At the end of Brooklyn Year One, I pulled the Ten of Swords from the deck, a mermaid stabbed several times over.

“So that’s you with the swords in your back. That’s the worst one!” Tarra said cheerfully.

2:17 We’re talking about Anthony Michael Hall because of reasons and Maria mentions Siouxsie and the Banshees is in a bad ’80s Anthony Michael Hall movie. Like, look at this, guys.

“We were talking to our Lyft driver in LA who seemed to know Siouxsie and Budgie, and apparently she was quite the marketer,” James says. “She would put her insignia on like, everything.”

Jason perks up at this. “What are you talking about? What are you saying about Budgie?”

“The driver had a really weird resume – he lived with Angie Bowie for a few years. But his biggest stint as a bass player was like…” James turns to Maria. “Do you remember?”

She does not. “It was like, Anita Baker, Rick Springfield…” she lists, though the memory seems fuzzy.

“WAS HE HANGING OUT WITH BUDGIE A LOT???!!!” Jason interjects again, to which it needs to be clarified that you know, that was just a name in passing.

“He just thought we were just like these rock and roll people and that we were in love – we weren’t offering him any information,” James explains, and I can’t argue with Lyft guy’s evaluation because the pair are wearing sunglasses and machete earrings, respectively. “And he was saying we’re like Siouxsie and Budgie.”

“She would wear her own shirts. Some people frown upon that. I always kind of liked it,” Jason says.

“Where do we all stand on that?” I ask in a sad attempt to be a journalist.

James answers first. “I like it, and I do think about it a lot.”

Jason goes next. “I like it, I’m for it.”

“We’re pro,” I deduce.

“We’re generally pro,” Maria says more tentatively.

Renzo’s a bit more upfront. “I’m on the fence with that one.”

2:32 This is approximately when our food gets here and I just want want to assert that it was totally delicious. Moving on.

2:50 The band questions me about my day job which is basically to reenact episodes of Riverdale on Snapchat (among other things). Then I ask if they have any day jobs.

“I work at a pizzeria,” Renzo offers.

“That’s cool, I love pizzerias more than anything,” I respond. Facts.

“I work at Sizzle Pie. It’s like a punk, heavy metal pizzeria.”

“That’s amazing,” I say, dead fucking serious.

“King Krule came in,” Jason mentions.

“Yeah, King Krule came in,” Renzo says. “Actually I met Dylan Sprouse there the other day.”

“WHAT!”  I shriek before explaining.”D-Dylan lives around there, my friend Lisa sees him constantly, I read this interview and it was like, ‘Dylan Sprouse and I are hanging and he takes a mouthful of beer and we’re at Tørst in Greenpoint.’ And I was like, ‘THE FUCK, Dylan’s at Tørst in Greenpoint.'”

Like he’s never there when I’m there. Rude.

“He actually left the pizzeria after his slice because we didn’t have beer,” says Renzo. “He was great. Different path from his brother for sure.”

In Brooklyn Year Two I pulled the Knight of Pentacles, a stabilizing, some would say “boring” card. And I preciously projected that onto all the wrong people. The cards are never wrong, but sometimes I am.

So silly! Like mixing up two Sprouse twins. Like, that was forgivable in 2010, it wasn’t in 2016.

 

3:30 We’re splitting up leftovers when Jason asks what band I’m into, and I say something to the effect of, “Def. Grls made me fucking french toast, so them.” But no, he says beyond the scene. “Oh, just in general, my favorite band is Hole.”

“Hole! I love them,” Renzo says.

“OH really?” I ask. “Yeah, Courtney Love is my favorite ever and I’ve loved her since I was like 13.”

“Yeah, I saw her a few years ago with Lana Del Rey.”

There’s a lot of excited bubbling at the table because this obviously sounds like a perfect tour marriage and I only saw Courtney with fake Hole in 2010. Tl;dr Maria and I were both her for Halloween at different points in our lives.

“I was her when I was 16,” Maria says. She checks her phone to find a picture.

“I’ve never dressed up as her,” Renzo deadpans.

“I had three costume changes,” I explain. “I cried. I threw a wine bottle down the street. I was very in character.” (But blah blah blah you guys already know this). Anyway, Maria quickly finds the picture and passes it around the table.

“It doesn’t quite work because I didn’t have my hair,” she says.

“But I get it, because you have the pose spot on, and the slip is really good,” I add.

Incidentally, I didn’t do the Courtney Love costume for 13 years because Tarra did it first, and I wanted to have respect for her costumes.

“You should start a web series with her,” Jason says. “Tea and Tarot with Tarra.”

Maybe. 

4:43 “None of that blue light is translating right now, right?” James asks.

I look into the viewfinder. “No, it’s purple at best.” We’re at 169 Bar, one of the last dives in the LES, lounge-y and bathed in cool tones. After another drink, we take pictures while Jason lets loose on his feelings about Beyoncé (off the record, not sending the Beyhive out for him). But the band’s liking how my coat matches with the pool table, so they force a group of people away to take glamour shots.

Aha.

Even though we can’t get the perfect shot I can’t deny that Veda Rays live their life (and create their art) strictly in cool tones. But they also have a rawness that feels very old school New York, the scene that I dream of but was Before My Time.

I get off the L, fighting the light ennui coming on. Ugh, stop! The future looks good! I have the Queen of Swords in my future and a container of noodles in my handbag.

You can listen to Veda Ray’s new EP “Shadow Side” on Bandcamp, follow them on Facebook, and catch them at the Mercury Lounge January 6th.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

LIVE REVIEW: Girl Band @ Saint Vitus

It’s been a year since I last saw Girl Band, and I’m a bit more prepared this time around.

Boots: check.

Pulled-back hair: check.

Pre-show snack: check.

Purse-less. That’s the big one. After getting caught in a swirl of flailing bodies at their last New York gig, I’ve consolidated my belongings into a jacket instead.

Phone. Gum. Tiny notebook.

Wallet. Keys. Tiny pen.

Advil. An appetizer amount of rage – just enough for dancing.

It’s not a daily anger I’m bringing to Saint Vitus, but a squirrel’s store of frustration easily disposed of after one of Girl Band’s sets. But that catharsis is contingent on one thing: will there be jumping? As the Irish four-piece crash into their first song, I am not so sure. The sold-out crowd is motionless, justifying the worst of New York audience clichés. Even Girl Band seemed on the “mellow” side, whatever that means for an a-melodic noise group. Had I prepared too much? Was I holding an umbrella on a dry day? I felt a bit stupid, sweating in a heavy, overfilled jacket while other women wore lightweight shirts and clutched purses, visibly more comfortable than I.

One, three, five songs passed. Lead singer Dara Kiley guzzled water as the representative Irish audience members heckled lovingly, shouting highly original material such as “IRELAND!” and “Come on IRELAND!” I was beginning to worry I’d suited up for nothing, and that my little supply of ferocity would dissolve into its truer state: hangriness.

What I’d forgotten about is Girl Band’s ability to leverage potential energy throughout their sets. Despite their untethered sound, Girl Band are not chaotic. They approach their performances with surgical precision, exuding more focus than blind fury. Like EDM mega DJs, they conduct the pulse of the room with each song – knowing exactly when to break it down, stretch a measure, and drop the beat like an anvil from 12 stories up. I suddenly remember this as the band break into a patch of new songs, which are structured far more like deep jungle techno cuts than noise punk thrashers. One is purely instrumental; with a driving drum rhythm that demands movement. Bassist Daniel Fox and guitarist Alan Duggan practice maximum restraint as they advance and recede in volume – something that whips us into a bit of a state. We are dancing. It is not enough, but it is all part of the plan.

Anticipation. Swans have volume; The Flaming Lips have props; Girl Band has anticipation. Feeding off the frenzy of a crowd primed for a unanimous tantrum, they know precisely when to strike with the big guns. So when they burst into “Pears For Lunch” off of 2015’s Holding Hands With Jamie, the vibrating build-up of tension bursts into kinetic energy. The jumping and shoving ensues.

If Girl Band were once taken to task for not actually being girls, then their use of the word “band” might also be questionable. If a band plays songs on instruments, what does Girl Band play? Are their records made of songs? Or riots? Are they playing their instruments? Or assaulting them? Arguably only drummer Adam Faulkner is approaching his instrument in a “traditional” way, while Duggan and Fox manipulate theirs; Fox making a slide guitar of his bass with a beer bottle, and Duggan beating his guitar like a drum. Even Kiley would be ill-described as a “singer,” as he often utilizes his serrated scream rhythmically. I can’t help but notice this calculated nature of theirs on stage; it has become all the more apparent now that the crowd has burst into unruly motion.

The last three songs are blood-boilers; we are fiendishly pleased when Faulkner strikes the opening beat to “Lawman.” By now I am steeped in sweat, attempting to regulate my breath between verses like a swimmer I saw on TV one time. I’m probably doing it wrong. After a stabbing six minutes of “Lawman,” Girl Band launch into “Paul,” and my suspicion that they were saving the most incendiary tracks for last is confirmed.

Perhaps Girl Band have mastered a kind of regimented wrath; micro-dosing with madness. Their work is an example of what anger can achieve when it is sharpened to a fine, sparkling point. Freud called it sublimation, but for Girl Band it is merely the creative process. As they arrive at their final song, Kiley thanks the crowd. The quartet rip into “The Cha Cha Cha” – a 29-second, distorted shout storm. A bite-sized bit of rage.

PLAYING DETROIT: Dear Darkness Slays on Latest EP

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Dear Darkness photo by Elise Mesner

Stacey MacLeod and Samantha Linn are distressed to impress, sharing their wonderfully warped worldview as as post-punk kitsch queens Dear Darkness on their latest EP She’s That Kind of Person, but I Like Her Anyway.

Released last month, their latest effort doesn’t stray far from 2016’s Get it Here EP. Faithful to their unhinged brand of glitter and grime this sonic adventure is less bashful bedroom eyes and more spontaneous arson speckled with deep throat kissing. Tongue between teeth rather than tongue-in-cheek, Dear Darkness revisits their affinity for braiding danger with crossed-legs innocence.

This time around, the girls turned up the fuzz with additional layers of synths and even more reckless percussive outbursts; taken together, their sound feels like a perfectly orchestrated tantrum. “Birthday Party” is a pouty psych-punk update to Leslie Gore’s “It’s My Party” and “You Had it Comin” could easily soundtrack a David Lynch revenge montage sequence. “Let’s Blow up the Moon” which is, well, about blowing up the moon, is so heavily distorted that you would think they were playing on the moon, loud enough for us to hear back on planet earth but warped by outer space. It’s peppered with enough blood-curdling screams to wake Hitchcock from the dead. Cohesive even in their chaos, Dear Darkness proves once again that you’ve gotta have a light to go on living in the shadows.

Bat your lashes and take names with the latest from Detroit punk princesses Dear Darkness below:

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EP REVIEW: Black Heart “Alekto” (Remix EP)

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Black Heart is the creation of Vienna, Austria-based solo artist Corina Cinkl. Proving women can do it all (obviously) Cinkl writes, performs, and produces all of the dark pop herself. For her latest project, “Alekto” (Remix EP) she calls in the powers of fellow witchy-woman and skilled producer Vanessa Irena of Knifesex and long-time collaborator Normotone. Released December 21, the three-track remix EP creates a seductive concoction of dark wave and post punk, laced together with ethereal electronic spell work. Immaculately produced and carried with Cinkl’s haunting vocals, “Alekto” (Remix EP) is as ideal of a soundtrack for a long drive through the fog as it is for performing sex magic.

Calm your own black heart with “Alekto” (Remix EP) below. It’s music so powerful you’ll be able to blast straight through Mercury retrograde unharmed with this on repeat.

INTERVIEW/EP REVIEW: The Black Black

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Adjusted I by The Black Black is a fresh, edgy take on post-punk and garage rock. Guitar riffs snake and snarl over heavy bass, but the serious topics the EP explores are balanced out by dancey drums. Their three songs acknowledge the strangeness of existing and growing up in the modern age without being dragged down by it. The culmination of this sound is “Personal Pronoun,” the EP’s standout track.

“Thematically, it’s kind of a break-up song, a song about the replaceable nature of relationships,” the band’s singer/songwriter/guitarist, Jonathan, told us. “Sometimes, you’re replacing the relationship but not the person, and the people blur together.”

Adjusted I is out now. Read the rest of our interview with Jonathan and check out “Personal Pronoun” below.

AudioFemme: Let’s start with your band name. What inspired The Black Black?

Jonathan: It’s actually a name I thought of before I had the band. There were all these bands that used “black” as the first word of their name, and it was kind of a reaction to that. Like The Black Keys, or The Black Eyed Peas, or Black Rebel Motorcycle Club or The Black Eyes. I felt like it was used to make a band sound tough. So I was just like, “Oh, we’re the Black Black.”

It turned out to be a really bad name. It was a bad idea because there’s no words in it- there’s just “the” and “black” and “the” doesn’t count. In an internet age, you can’t search for it at all. I wouldn’t use it again. (laughs)

It definitely wasn’t hard to find you on Facebook, if that helps.

It’s better now, but for the first two years, it was impossible.

So, Adjusted I is a t-shirt!

Our EP is a t-shirt. I love saying that: Our record is a t-shirt.

How did that idea come about?

Our last record came out in 2014 and was on vinyl, and it just… it takes a lot of time to get vinyl. Pressing plants get backed up and it’s very expensive.  I have no interest in CD’s because I feel like CD’s are garbage- and often times you’re at shows and kids are like, “Oh I want to get something… but I don’t have a record player.” Well, I don’t want to sell them this record that they’re never going to play. That just wore on me awhile and we had the idea, we can put the record out sooner if we don’t do vinyl. It’s cheaper, it’s quicker, and everybody wears t-shirts. You’d buy a t-shirt for that price anyway, and you get a record too.

My favorite song was “Personal Pronoun.” Can you expound on its theme?

That’s actually my favorite song too…  Sonically, that song got the idea of what I wanted this band to sound like closer than any other song we’ve ever had. Thematically, it’s kind of a break-up song, a song about the replaceable nature of relationships. As you’re getting older, and had various numbers of different relationships, sometimes, you’re replacing the relationship but not the person, and the people blur together. And the whole thing can blur together as you get older. It’s not just one or two, it’s three or four. Or more.

Is your song “Territorial Trappings” a Nirvana reference?

It is a Nirvana reference; it’s a reference to “Territorial Pissings.” I guess the primary reason for that was there’s a line it that’s “You gotta figure it out, you found a better way.”  That’s a reference to the lyric  “Gotta find a way, gotta find a better way.” And thematically, the title just works for it. It’s about getting trapped by your surroundings.

Now Adjusted I is out, do you have any upcoming plans or projects?

We actually recorded two EPs at the same time, so there’s another that’s already finished called Adjusted II. That’s a sequel to this one, kind of. It’ll have similar themes and artwork.

PLAYING DETROIT: The Final Days of 800beloved

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Most things begin, but all things must end. No one knows this better than Milford-based sonic artist and former undertaker, Sean Lynch: founding dreamer of the eternally unearthed post-punk, Macabre rock formation, 800beloved. Lynch has spent the last decade conjuring romantic hauntings taken from real life, sleep life, and the afterlife, turning them into a body of music that is unabashedly nuanced with a rawness that would perturb anyone less than willing to face living ghosts the way he has. A cryptic career that produced three full-length records, all of which speak to a perpetually kinetic dance between atmospheres following a trajectory that was as driven by numerology as it was by words and sounds, comes full circle next month when 800beloved silences themselves by means of a self-induced funeral. Eight years after their debut release, Bouquet, Lynch is ready to move on. This isn’t a throwing in of the metaphorical towel or a waving of a white flag, rather a perfect and poetically suited demise for a band that was, in a lot of ways, born to die. Here lies 800beloved; the band you missed (and the band I will miss.)

“I’m not interested in entertaining some immortal non-aging version of ourselves,” Lynch says. “I don’t want to be talking about the bipolarities of life and death anymore, not in that context. I’m done with that. I feel that if there were ever a way to take a Teen Vogue magazine and burn it and bury it…we were that and we did it; that strange combination of two things that should never meet.”

This timely death is almost a year to the day that 800beloved surprise released their third and final album, Some Kind of Distortion; a shimmering display of nostalgia and present tense veiled by their signature allusions of dreamscapes and tortured surrealism. “I’m not going to spell it out to a disinterested audience.” Lynch says. “We’ve never been as elusive as we’ve been made to feel. In any camp, we have always felt like a black sheep.” Lynch, of course, is referring to the bands umbrellaed reputation and whispered notoriety both in the local scene and the dream-pop/shoe gaze/post-punk formula at large. You can’t find the band on Spotify and you will never see them solicit for gig slots or editorial recognition. Hell, you’d probably mistaken their name in conversation for a phone number because, well, yeah, it is.

Torn between wanting to be heard and trying not to be found, 800 dug a grave all their own, filling it with symbolic talismans and deeply personal confessionary relics that speak to only those who are listening. From the eery reincarnation of the coffin featured on their debut album art work featured, now open and empty, as the promotional/emotional imagery for their farewell to the symbiotic marriage of numbers and private timelines all the way to poster fonts, live-performance projections and the names of colors used; none of which feel like a contrived stretch for meaning, more so a peephole into the inner workings of someone who is as intricately woven as these artfully shrouded pieces of postscript. “To our credit, everything we have done has been with the utmost thoughtfulness and we want our funeral to be done the same way. If we wanted a Hot Topic funeral we would have just gone to the mall.”

Having spent most of his life painting the faces of the dearly departed, consoling the families of transcending loved ones and writing the words that would immortalize the legacies of the expired, I ask Lynch if he anticipates going through the strangely unique motions of a real live death this time as the corpse, the coroner and the afflicted surviver. “I was restringing my guitar when we opened up for Modern English a couple months ago and I was thinking that this is the last set of strings I’m going to play with this band. I know that sounds minimal but to me the strings, the guitars, the amps, the pedals…I have such a relationship to everything.” Lynch explains.”I have to remind myself that at the end of the day this is going to matter the most to me even though I am comfortably numb to it now. But there have been countless things tapping at my window telling me that this is it. And I know it is.”

The final line-up includes Anastasiya Metesheva on bass, Ben Collins on drums and Lynch on vocals, guitar and production. Metesheva, an artist and radiant expressionist, has been an integral part of 800 since 2007. Collins, though having only joined in ’13, is no stranger to collaboration and brought life to Lynch’s compositions. There has been a revolving door of talent throughout the years, but this particular assembly is colorful and vibrant in all the ways 800 has come to embody. “If someone is looking for tabloid surrounding 800beloved they won’t find it. We don’t do that. The band members live three virtually very separate lives outside of this project. Stacy is painting and working to help support her family, Ben is in three other bands and has a career and I’m barely scraping by,” Lynch admits. “I just want to try to get one last hurrah while surmising any bit of sacredness that I can indulge in.”

The funeral, as Lynch described, is not a play on kitsch or satirical irony, as he of all people understands the weight of tagging something as a funeral. The remaining trio will bid farewell by performing Some Kind of Distortion in it’s entirety along with some undisclosed surprises.

So, yes. We are invited to celebrate life, art and a body of work that surpasses both rather than reading a half-hearted Facebook post about why a band has decided to “break-up.” The spectacle of theatrics surrounding a band throwing the first handful of dirt on their own grave is grandiose but not without substance. 800beloved will tread on territory they have spent a decade mapping out and although infrequently traveled, has left a passageway in their wake. “Something I wanted to bring out in this experience is that there are very fine lines between sex and death. And that fragility is not a new revelation but there is a certain liveliness that comes from experiencing a close proximity to death and a sexual experience being close to recreating or feeling as good as being reborn.” Lynch explains. “But what I really hope people take away from our funeral is the shock that a band can depart elegantly. Oh and that it’s also going to be fucking loud.”

800beloved goes silent on August 13th, 2016 at Detroit’s Marble Bar, admission is $8. Read 800beloved’s obituary here.

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TRACK OF THE WEEK: Black Marble “Iron Lung”

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Black Marble is music for outsiders,” Chris Stewart, the project’s creator said in a recent Facebook post expressing mixed feelings about releasing a new song in such a tumultuous time. “Iron Lung” is the first track Black Marble has released since the 2012 EP A Different Arrangement; The Brooklyn synth-wave artist’s upcoming album, It’s Immaterial, is coming out September 30 via Ghostly International.

“Iron Lung” does have an outsider quality to it- Stewart’s vocals sound like they come from the shadows, obscured by darkness. I can’t help being reminded of New Order’s “Ceremony” while listening to the track, as they share similar qualities that draw me in: A driving dance beat with repetitive, stair-step guitar riffs, and the bittersweet feeling of hope mixed with inevitability. “Iron Lung” inverses the formula, though, creating something that leans slightly more to the positive side, with just a hint of darkness. Toward the end of the song Stewart breaks the form altogether with a classical-tinged organ bridge. It adds a “light at the end of the tunnel” quality to the song that works perfectly.

Preorder It’s Immaterial here, and listen to “Iron Lung” below.

TRACK REVIEW: Lié “Failed Visions”

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The world isn’t feeling too positive lately, so a grungy garage rock song feels like just the thing we need to get these emotions out. It’s the sort of track where you can choose to head bang and shout your heart out, or just sit and soak in it, letting it fill you up and expand inside. We have just the right song for these types of moods and circumstances: Lié’s “Failed Visions.”

This trio of Vancouver badasses are cooking up some deliciously grungy post-punk music. Their debut album, Consent, provided social commentary about rape culture as told from the perspective of these three rockin’ ladies. It’s pretty damn relevant to some recent events, and great to hear the voices of strong women speaking their truth and not backing down from some of the more infuriating parts of our system.

“Failed Visions” is a single from their upcoming sophomore album Truth or Consequences, out August 12. Check out their single and let these tunes fill you up rather than rage, disappointment, and the slew of other negative feelings many of us are holding onto lately.

PLAYING DETROIT: Dear Darkness “Get it Here” EP

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Photo by Chantal Elise as part of the “In the Band: Michigan Music Behind a Feminist Lens.” For more of her work, head to www.chantalelise.com.

If Siouxsie Sioux and the cast of Hedwig and the Angry Inch shared a seedy punk venue greenroom where they exchanged Bowie impressions and candy necklace bites, you might have a slight grasp on what Dear Darkness sounds like. Self-described as somewhere between “kitsch and oblivion,” Detroit drama queens Stacey MacLeod and Samantha Linn released their latest pleasantly demented and perfectly untamed EP Get it Here earlier this week. This perplexing polyamorous marriage of grit, grime, glitter and gorgeously unique explorations of voice (both internal and external) revel in a self-made turbulence much like a wave pool in a motel bathtub.

Don’t mistaken aforementioned “kitsch” as a dismissal of sincerity. Although riotously playful, Get it Here provokes a teeth grinding, guttural exorcism that just happens to be covered in frosting and sprinkles. Lyrically, the EP kicks and screams but not without cracks where a beautifully strange vulnerability pushes through. The swollen, voice breaking delivery of the lyrics: “Why don’t you notice me? I’m right here” from the track “You Ain’t Tried it With Me” encompasses the tug-of-war vibe of the entire collection. The drums are scathing, the guitar restless. and the warbled and tortured ferocity of MacLeod and Linn’s harmonizing fuse to redefine punk, pop and human fragility in one fell swoop. Yes, the EP is shockingly consistent but that observation seems to belittle the entirety of what Dear Darkness is attempting to do here. More than consistency, what they’ve managed to do in five songs and under 18 minutes is, above all else, really fucking special.

Indulge in Dear Darkness’s rare breed of strange on “Get it Here” below:

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PLAYING DETROIT: “I’m Feelin’ Mean” Playlist

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I’m not okay. I’ve said this out loud and silently in mirrors at least a three hundred times over the past week. I’m. Feeling. Mean. Winter is hovering around like an unwanted party guest and I’ve exhausted pop radio’s repetitive and empty saccharine excuses. When you feel that the world is against you and your most indestructible desire is to destruct, destroy, and stick it to the man, there will always be punk music to be the anguished devil on your shoulder telling the angel to GTFO. These feelings are necessary. Embrace them when they rear their disruptive heads and tap into that under-the-skin earthquake of whatever it is that’s pissing you off, and remember that music’s got your back. I’ve curated a soundtrack of thrashing, unsettling, and provocative punk straight from Detroit‘s veins, both past and present to amplify and detoxify.

1. Negative Approach – “Nothing”

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Labeled as one of the reigning pioneers of hardcore punk in the midwest, Negative Approach formed in ’81 and had a lasting impact for the scenes to follow. They broke up in ’84 but have returned over recent years to perform some of the most amped up shows in Detroit’s history. “Nothing” encapsulates what has made Negative Approach legendary with its screeching guitar, saliva soaked screaming, and anti-conformist, nihilistic give-no-fucks attitude.

2. Timmy’s Organism – “Heartless Heathen” 

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Timmy Vulgar of Third Man Record’s beloved Timmy’s Organism is considered the hardest working punk in the industry. Previously Vulgar lent his twisted visions to the late 90’s Epileptix and Clone Defects and the warped roughness of  Human Eye and the prig-punk punch Reptile Forcefield. But with Organism, Timmy has gained serious momentum throwing inhibition to the wind with psychedelic riffs paired with stabbing percussions, all framed by Timmy’s own brand of in your face vocals. “Heartless Heathen” is infectious.

3. Protomartyr – “Jumbo’s”

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Protomartyr is known for their 70’s post-punk, Motor City garage rock fusion. From 2012’s No Passion All Technique,  “Jumbo’s” is Protomartyr at their best. Guteral, echoed, vocals drowned out by drugged bass lines and clashing high hat heavy drums are the antithesis of pro-establishment. Protomartyr carved out their own sweet spot by making angst accessible and catchy.

4. Gore Gore Girls – “Hard Enough”

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Formed in 1997 by Amy Gore, Gore Gore Girls incorporate harmonizing with a surfer punk edge in “Hard Enough” off of 2007’s Get The Gore. At a time when punk in Detroit was losing its voice, these girls broke through the stagnation of the late 90’s and gave new life to garage-rock era by infusing caffeinated instrumentals and unapologetic vocals that feels like a thrasher film meshed with a break-up mix tape.

4. Trash Brats – “Someday is Too Late”

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Maybe one of the most forgotten vestiges of sleazy glam-punk, Trash Brats never wanted to be taken seriously. But over time, their music still remains in the dusty attics of our collective music story. This steady and slow jam from ’90 cries “They say that Jesus saves, but tell me who?” over static punk chords that are as iconic as they are ironic.

5. The Meatmen – “I Want Drugs”

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I remember my mom blasting this as a kid. My parents were punks and The Meatmen were THE punks. From their ’95 album Pope on a Rope, “I Want Drugs” rants off names of drugs from heroin to demerol as if it were a coked out nursery rhyme. The Meatmen were raunchy, vile, and a vital piece to Detroit’s punk puzzle.

6. Child Bite – “Ancestral Ooze” 

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Timmy Vulgar might be considered the hardest working punk in the biz, but I know Child Bite to be the most relentless band of modern traditionalist punks around. They are seemingly always on tour and are forever pumping out unforgiving fuck-you anthems, like this track off of their 2014 release Strange Waste.

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PLAYING DETROIT: WAT’ER YOU THINKING?! A Playlist for Flint

AudioFemme

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If you’ve seen the cover of this month’s TIME Magazine or have recently tuned into any national media outlet, you know that Detroit’s sister city, Flint, is in crisis. Due to corrupt government, dangerous mismanagement, and incompetence, thousands of Flint residences have been poisoned by lead through the water system.

Long story short, Flint was getting its water from Detroit until 2011 when Gov. Rick Snyder, due to economic disparity, decided that Flint would begin receiving water from the Flint river, despite the water’s highly corrosive makeup and the cities aging, weathered pipeline. The water itself is not poisoned with lead, but is so corrosive that it is stripping the lead pipes. Last fall, auto manufacturers refused the usage of Flint water as it was corroding the auto parts, yet it continued to pump into every household, poisoning an entire city. Despite the President issuing a state of emergency and the allocation of 80 million dollars in FEMA relief funds to assist Flint in its recovery, the damage is irreversible.

I know what you’re thinking. What does this have to do with music? Well, nothing, really. Other than the fact that I feel that I bear the shared responsibility of social consciousness as an artist and fellow human taking up space on this floating ball in space. I couldn’t help but search for some convoluted way to draw attention to this issue, while also finding personal solace through the only outlet that I knew. I’ve curated a playlist of “water songs” by Michigan artists with the hope of a healthy resolve for the millions of people around the world who do not have access to safe drinking water, which now include the thousands of children and families of Flint, Michigan. Let these tracks wash over you and extinguish any unwanted fires.

  1. BLKSHK: “Arm Floaties (Night Swim)”
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    Eddie Logix and Blair French are BLKSHRK. Released last year, Jellyfish on Cassette is an ocean of temperamental pulsations. The project fuses programmed sampled, live takes and improvisation all of which swell. “Arm Floaties (Night Swim)” gives gives the aural allusion of treading deep water.

  2. 800beloved: “Tidal (Alternate Version)”
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    This alternate take of “Tidal” from 800beloved‘s dreamy sophomore record, Everything Purple, is a trembling and sedated beachside lullaby. Lynch’s breathy vocals paired with the distant and upbeat pop distortions forms the sensation of having a sun stained memory you wish you could return to.

  3. Jamaican Queens: “Water”
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    A standout track off of their 2013 album Wormfood, “Water” is drowsy and pleasantly complacent, much like falling asleep in a filled-to-the-rim bathtub. It’s a smug track about the things we normally don’t have the guts to confess about the disinterest in meaningful love and sex. It’s the type of song that demands hydration; a sonic hangover.

  4. JRJR: “Dark Water”
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    Before they dropped the Nascar kitsch, JRJR released Patterns. “Dark Water” is reminiscent of The Shins with hints of Jon Brion, making it both sugary and brooding. The Beach Boys-esque harmonizing and piano crescendo mask the heaviness of the repeated imagery of drowning which makes this bubbly pop track ironic and bittersweet.

  5. Gosh Pith: “Waves”
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    One of my favorite Detroit duos, Gosh Pith, channel a sleepy Animal Collective/Vampire Weekend vibe with a track off their 2015 EP, Window. “Waves” challenges the listener to let go, internalizing the symbolic properties of water via a gentle, lapping synth pop track.

  6. The Gories: “Goin’ To The River”
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    The Gories formed back in 1986 and were fearless in welding 60’s garage rock with hyper rhythm blues. “Goin’ To The River” from I Know You Fine, but How You Doin’ released in 1990, is defiant and demands rowdiness. This track by The Gories is a perfect example of their lasting and often overlooked influence.

  7. Iggy Pop: “Endless Sea”
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    What I consider to be the most under appreciated album in Iggy Pop’s catalogue and one of the most important contributions to post-punk, New Values is full of songs as jutting as this one. “Endless Sea” is particularly provocative. The synth breakdown along with seductive, temperate vocals are the perfect pairing for giving the drugged sensation of literal endlessness.

  8. The Dead Weather: “Will There Be Enough Water”[/fusion_builder_column][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”]

    The Dead Weather may be my favorite collaboration from the diverse repertoire of Detroit’s golden child, Jack White. White along with Alison Mosshart (of The Kills) make for a sexually hypnotic rock experience. “Will There Be Enough Water” is a smokey, blues infused anti-apology that is as thirsty as it is satiated.

  9. Fred Thomas: “Waterfall”
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    The folkiest track on the playlist, “Waterfall” off of Fred Thomas’ Kuma is moody and textured like a messier, sleep deprived Elvis Perkins. The song begs “Come on everyone/it’s time to go see the waterfall” an uplifting chorus partnered with moaning string arrangements keeps “Waterfall” in the heartache category.

  10. Valley Hush: “Black Sea”
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    This track off of Don’t Wait by experimental pop duo Valley Hush could easily be a secret video game level trudging through sparkling, underwater sludge where Lana Del Rey meets St. Vincent. It’s more sensational than literal, but the ominous gurgling noise is animatedly visual.

If you would like to learn how you can help the residents of Flint, Michigan, click here

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ALBUM REVIEW: Stove “Is Stupider”

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Self deprecation abounds on Stove’s Is Stupider. It opens with “Stupider,” followed by “Stupid,” and later on, “Stupidest” and “Dumboy.” The record art labels Side A as “Side Stupid,” and Side B as “Side Beer.”

But for Steve Hartlett, who wrote all the songs and played all of the instruments on Is Stupider, stupid doesn’t necessarily mean a lack of knowledge, but maybe isolation, and a lack of identity; Hartlett created Stove after the dissolution of his former group, Ovlov. Stove is a combination of the words Steve and Ovlov. The struggle to find himself is a theme that runs throughout the album. It starts with the 20 second opener “Stupid,” which explains “Don’t  know who I am/ So I act like who I’m with.” He then addresses himself (or possibly a cat with the same name) on “Wet Food,” asking “Steve, where’d you go?” And “Dusty Tree” made the perfect Thanksgiving soundtrack, as it explores alienation from one’s own family: “Don’t you feel a bit insane planting your family tree? All the way the water never finds the seeds to grow.”   

Stove is lyrically introspective. Musically, the project is rough around the edges in the best way possible, with elements of grunge and post-punk. The music mopes a bit on songs like “Wet Food” and “Lowt-Ide Fins,” but bursts with energy on “Aged Hype” and “Dusty Tree.” Hartlett’s voice is earnest, if a little sad at times, and has a Guided By Voices-like ability to completely own moods and feelings for a few minutes at a time. Check out “Wet Food” below and you’ll see, he’s the smartest kind of stupid there is.

 

ALBUM REVIEW: The Harrow “Silhouettes”

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When Audiofemme last spoke to The Harrow in February, they were working on an upcoming LP Silouhettes, which was mixed by Xavier Paradis, was released last week, and it’ll give you chills: the moody, atmospheric music creates a shadowy world for Vanessa Irena’s drawn-out, longing vocals. Intricate drum machine programming is provided by Irena, Barret Hiatt and Frank Deserto (Hiatt and Deserto also play synths, and Deserto contributes a steady undercurrent of bass as well), and Greg Fasolino plays haunting guitar parts.

The Brooklyn band cites artists like The Cure, Cocteau Twins, Massive Attack and Portishead. Like Deserto said in their Band Of The Month interview, “We generally err on the dreamier side.” In songs like “White Nile,” that means a gentle, chime-like melody, but on songs like the ominous “Darling,” it sounds a bit more like a nightmare. They take a break from the dreamy sound with “Feral Haze,” a bouncy, almost-playful track with a spoken-word chorus that insists “Animals, we’re animals.”

One of the album’s best tracks is “When The Pendulum Swings,” which contains the line that gives the LP its name: “Speak softly, I hear laughter/Step gently, I see silhouettes.” The bassline is heavy and driving yet melodic, and sparse flourishes of guitar lighten the track’s brooding mood just slightly. With this song, and the rest of Silhouettes, The Harrow shows us that darkness can be beautiful. And as Hiatt said in their interview, “Darkness is way more interesting. And real.”

You can check out “When The Pendulum Swings Below,” and purchase the album here.

TRACK PREMIERE: Storming The Beaches With Logos In Hand “Soldier Grey”

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Don’t you love when through an abundance of PR emails you learn of a new song that not only shakes you in the best way possible, but you have the delight of introducing it to the rest of the world as well? With AudioFemme’s discovery and resulting premiere of Storming The Beaches With Logos In Hand‘s new track “Soldier Grey” we’re here to inject some delight to your Wednesday. Described as a “sci-fi new media opera and post-punk percussion ensemble,” STBWLIH are worth the mouthful of a title. Founded in Santa Fe, New Mexico by Luke Carr in 2013, the group makes lovely chaos from multiple drummers, guitar, bass, and both male and female vocals. “Soldier Grey” catches your attention from the get-go, indie-punk rock that’s both calm and collected yet pregnant with higher conscious wisdom, exactly the kind of music I want to hear from Santa Fe, a magic city in my mind of occult and desert magic ripe for creative achievements. Listen to “Soldier Grey” below:

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PLAYING DETROIT: Moonwalks “Lunar Phases”

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Few bands are as aptly named as psychedelic Detroit four piece, Moonwalks, whose upcoming release Lunar Phases could act as a wild, yet tailored, road map to uninhabited galaxies and black holes, alike. The band’s first LP, scheduled to release via cassette tape and digital download later this month (MANIMAL Vinyl) is as warm as it is cooly intergalactic and is as 1960’s retro as it is refreshingly modern. Collectively, Jake Dean (guitars/vocals) Kate Gutwald (bass), Kerrigan Pearce (drums) and Tyler Grates (guitar) admit to being moved by the production of old Lee Hazlewood records, which makes sense, considering Lunar Phases has an undeniably sultry, Western-shootout vibe. (If the shootout was between aliens and cowboys, directed by a 90’s Tarantino respectfully.) “We’re becoming more collaborative as a four piece,” says Grates. “When making music, it’s important for me not to consider any influences I have at the time. Anything can sound like everything. However, it’s a little different in the recording process. We all have similar taste but different ideas, so we’re constantly coming up with different landscapes of sound.” More than Brian Jonestown Massacre-esque jam rock moments or sedated Jeffry Lee Pierce vocals, Moonwalks’ sound is the figurative dusting off of something once lost. Like water on Mars, Lunar Phases taps into what you thought you knew, but with an exploratory freshness best suited for lovers of reverb, distortion, and unexpectedly emotive cosmic collisions of past and present.

What is most surprising of their debut LP is the seamless cohesion not only between tracks, but in Moonwalks’ shared cadence, notably in their confidence in letting each instrument/effect have space to swell, breathe, and explode. This is glaringly apparent on vocal-less track “Cream Cheese Ashtray,” a demanding instrumental that gives the aural illusion of bending time; warped but never “off,” askew but never elementary nor hesitant. Delay heavy track, “Painted Lady” (one of two songs named after beloved Detroit bar/venues) is reminiscent of early Black Rebel Motorcycle Club minus the cliche hook/verse progression, artfully distorting your notion of what comes next; another example of Moonwalks’ ability to give new life to the already familiar.

Lunar Phases is, for the lack of a better word, mature. The album, a richly dynamic and attentive mosaic just under thirty minutes long, manages to achieve the robust fluidity that most bands don’t find until their second or third release (if at all). With extensive touring planned for the coming year and by the sounds of it, more studio time, too, Moonwalks exudes a completeness but with ample room to morph, grow, and reimagine. “I think were becoming tighter as a band,” Grates explains. “We’re getting more comfortable with playing shows and touring around the country. I think if the four of us weren’t in a band together, we’d still be hanging out all the time.”

While we await the release of Lunar Phases, satisfy your hunger by checking out Moonwalks’ 2014 EP:

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INTERVIEW: The Intelligence

 

The Intelligence Vintage Future album cover

Imagine that aliens have invaded; they’re taking control, except instead of ruling the planet, what they really want is to jam in your garage.  What you’ve got then is The Intelligence, an LA-based post-punk band that grows more and more with each new album (and they’ve had eight great ones, it’s hard to keep up).  Just a week or so after the release of their latest LP Vintage Future, I got to speak with founding member, lead singer, and resident genius Lars Finberg via e-mail.

“I think maybe we have tried to have a foot in the future and one in the past?” says Finberg, in terms of where exactly this extraterrestrial sound comes from.  “I am a fan of antiquated rickety presentations of the future like Buck Rogers or Joe Meek.”

The influence is clear – it’s like Meek’s I Hear a New World got a bit of a modern upgrade on Vintage Future.  The album’s title track especially emphasizes this imagery, starting with an other-worldly ringing and ending with a robotic voice whining, “But I was just learning how to love.”  A tragedy indeed.

The fantastic production value of this record makes for a clear vision of what exactly a vintage future might be.  Says Finberg, “I think our engineer/producer/recordist Chris Woodhouse improves from greatness with each record he makes.”

A clean and cohesive lo-fi sound coupled with simple, catchy lyrics capitalize the band’s thematic lyrical poignancy, as well as their ability to be unforgivingly and cohesively strange.  These lyrics and themes have a way of creeping into your brain, and it’s brilliant to see Finberg keep coming up with more and more, seemingly never running out of new ideas.

“I X-ray what’s inside me and try to read the blueprints as clearly as I can,” he says.  “If it sounds like someone else’s X-ray I’m not afraid to use white out or tape or glue to make it newer to me.”

A standout for me is “Dieu Merci Pour La Fixation De La Machine a Coudre,” which is a near-translation of a track on 2009’s Fake Surfers record, “Thank You God For Fixing The Tape Machine.”

While the original track fits right in with their garage rock sound, the latter is a slower serenade. Lyrics like “In the moonlight/Out of the cruel light/I’ve been mesmerized/I think I almost feel right” backed by a swoon-worthy guitar make you want to go for a tango in Paris.  Though the songs sound worlds apart, Finberg calls the connection between the two “a secret puzzle.”

“Cool you noticed that,” he says. “The Fake Surfers song was related to a tape machine and love.  The Vintage Future update was inspired in France at a club called ‘Machine a Coudre’ or sewing machine, and love. Or some kind of version of it in either case.”

And it all seems strange to us from the outside, but that’s part of the magic in listening to The Intelligence – wanting to understand just what’s going on in Finberg’s brain.  “To quote Mitch Hedberg,” he says, “‘Come inside my head and tell me that doesn’t make sense.'”

Catch The Intelligence supporting Franz Ferdinand + Sparks at Terminal 5 on October 6.

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