It’s a good day when you stumble upon new music from San Fermin, and this week they’ve delivered “Bride,” from their upcoming album, Belong. It’s a poignant snapshot of social anxiety—something so many of us have dealt with in some capacity—which made it a shoe-in for our Track of the Week.
Charlene Kaye performs in her usual intoxicating style, her rich vocals easy to bask in. Like many a San Fermin track, “Bride” is layered with orchestral flourishes—violin, guitar, drums, trumpet, and harp—all expertly played and working in lush accordance to deliver a story. And the story, says San Fermin’s producer, composer, and bandleader Ellis Ludwig-Leone, is based on a true one.
The title of Belong vaguely alludes to Ludwig-Leone’s struggles with anxiety and his childhood search to fit in. His musical endeavors have helped him build confidence, and after two gorgeous albums, he’s finally delving into more personal stories, particularly related to mental health. To compose this track (based on a wedding-induced panic attack), he wrote from the perspective of a flower-clad bride at the surreal moment of her wedding day. Her panicked dissociation is at odds with the stereotypical joy of marriage – but it wouldn’t be a San Fermin song without that otherworldly darkness cloaking the beautiful vocals and instrumentals.
It’s telling that Ludwig-Leone chose a bride to symbolize the pressures of social expectation. Every aspect of wedding planning comes down to making each moment of the “big day” perfect, and the harshest scrutiny is usually reserved for the woman at the altar. Long before a bride walks down the aisle, she drives herself to high levels of stress, searching out the perfect florist, the perfect band, the perfect venue. It brings to mind the negative images of Bridezilla—rarely do we hear stories of “The Groom From Hell”—but what happens when all that stress is turned inward? Perhaps a dissociative meltdown, like the one Kaye sings about?
Society puts a lot of pressure on us to be the perfect versions of ourselves at all times, stage-managing every single situation so that we come away with picture perfect memories to look back on. “Bride” is Ludwig-Leone’s nod to the irrationality of that notion, of how it only sets us up for continual breakdowns as we come crashing down from our adrenaline-laced, manic perfectionism. Once her wedding comes to fruition, when the bride is finally able to relax, slow down, and take everything in, she disconnects from the moment she’s been building herself up for all along. That’s anxiety in a nutshell – prolonged, continuous stress that stops you from really enjoying what you’ve stressed about cultivating in the first place.
“Bride” reminds us that we don’t have to be perfect, but it’s clear that San Fermin have achieved something close to that on Belong. The record comes out April 7; until then, listen to“Bride” below.
Grim Streaker is a new project formed by members of Dinowalrus, The Teen Age, Belle Mare, and Hiccup. Last week they released their first single, “Guts,” produced and recorded by Mike Kutchman (Parquet Courts, WALL and Sharon Van Etten).
Though they’ve just released one song so far, the noisy punk track contains the energy of several. “Guts” races full speed ahead, brakes screeching just enough to not fully careen out of control. Like their name, Grim Streaker’s first single gives young angst some levity by injecting a dose of dark humor, in verses that mirror each other perfectly. “Oh, I hate your mom/ I hate her good, she’s such a slut,” it begins, only later to declare, “Oh, I hate your dad/ I hate him bad.” Amelia Bushell voices her fiery scorn over frantic flashes of guitars and a heavy, determined beat. There’s something particularly pleasing, especially now, about looking around and not just declaring that everything sucks, but yelling it as loud as you can. For those without a stage, “Guts” is the perfect catharsis.
I have considered writing this many times – but I never felt it was ready. It would be ready, I thought, when my mastery of the piano was complete. Or more realistically, when my proficiency at the piano was deemed certifiable. Certifiable by whom, I was never sure. I now realize how silly that would be. The story would never be told.
Two years ago, during a period of prolonged illness, I spent two months in my native Washington State. Words minced: it was a difficult time. A time in which there were few relaxing moments. I was preoccupied, even obsessed with the state of my health, as were the family members who surrounded me in a big, fuzzy love net. One such family member was my nephew-in-law, L, who to this day feels more like a smarter little brother. During some of the most trying moments of my condition, he would by force of habit or tremendous intuition, settle at his family’s piano and begin to play. Improvise, really.
L has been playing since he was tiny, as the framed photo atop his family’s piano depicts. In it he sits – no older than 4 or 5, examining the keys with his grandfather. Due to his musical education, as well as an abnormally elevated intellect, L is a bit of a virtuoso on the keys. He sits at the piano when no one is really paying attention – when everyone is absorbed in work, or a book, or a Twitter hole. When it is the most quiet.
Yet during intensified phases of my malaise, when everything was far from silent, his stunning melodies would split the chaos and fill the room with loveliness. The sound would completely pacify me. It entranced me. L’s compositions are entirely improvised, but somehow sound like oeuvres that have been labored over for months. At the same time they sound effortless. The astounding thing about these arrangements is that they materialize from thin air. The devastating thing is that they are gone as swiftly as they are played – never recorded on paper or garage band.
L’s playing so moved me during those months; I wished I could hire him as my in-house pianist. Though I would never get anything done if he accepted the job. Piano hypnotizes me. If L begins playing while the rest of us read or knit, my activity halts when the first key is struck. My eyes slowly close. My chin drifts upward as if waiting for some higher revelation. I am bewitched.
It wasn’t simply a newfound fixation with piano music that sprouted from my time at home. There also grew an intense desire to play the piano – to command the magical instrument itself.
The latter infatuation lay dormant for months after I returned to New York. I can’t remember if I consciously thought about learning piano. But when I heard the dizzying compositions of Nils Frahm for the first time, I knew that was it. I spent my lunch breaks scouring Craigslist for keyboards, and an affordable teacher. Despite my highfalutin cravings for something fancy, like a Fender Rhodes or a Juno, my budget afforded me a $200 Kurzweil Ensemble Grande Piano, which is a pretty rudimentary model. Within two days of hearing Frahm’s music, the Kurzweil was mine. She’s a sturdy one, and I named her Girtha on the account that she weighs, oh, about 500 pounds.
Locating a compatible instructor seemed even more important; you only pay for the keyboard once, whereas each lesson will strip you of money. I came across a guy named Andrew. He was one of the few teachers who included pictures in their listing, which gave me a sense of ease. I could size him up a bit first. He looked lanky, and a bit like Tom Verlaine from Television – minus the whole heroin-chic thing. At $50 per session the price was right, plus, a bonus: he conducted lessons out of the gorgeous San Damiano Mission in Greenpoint. I was eager to start. New hobbies are a love of mine yes, but I also knew that learning piano would make me a better music journalist…because then I’d be a failed musician too.
On a sweltering August Wednesday, we began.
Andrew was in his early thirties, and hip to the music canon, but he eschewed all of the arrogance often associated with such traits. To pay rent he played church services and taught, the rest of his time spent on various musical projects and writing plays. He was patient, genuine, and kind – albeit a touch awkward. I constantly tried to distract from my musical inadequacies with jokes. This never worked.
I remember on one particular occasion Andrew was demonstrating a technique, and began playing Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright” on the church piano to illustrate his point.
“You working that one up for church?” I asked.
“Whaa?” He looked genuinely concerned. When I assured him it was merely a joke, he laughed nervously and turned back to our lesson.
At first I learned piano quickly. The rush of a new pursuit – and a determination to achieve maestro status by the time I was an old lady – had me practicing for one to two hours daily. I was getting the basics down, and nailing my first song (Nick Cave’s “Into My Arms,” which ain’t that hard, by the way). I wasn’t quite a pianist yet, but I sure was learning piano.
But within months, practicing piano suffered the same fate of every discipline I’ve ever attempted, bar writing – it became a chore. I would halfheartedly cram the night before my lesson and resentfully play pages from the piano book; I much preferred improvisation, which always felt better than it sounded. At my lessons I would use tricks to skip playing from the book, as my sheet music literacy was declining. Asking a lot of questions typically worked.
I became nervous even before practicing at home – afraid my fingers would betray my ears. What was once cathartic and inspiring had become a little prison, built with the absurd standards I hold for myself.
This past August I got laid off from the desk job I hated. It was a bittersweet thing. I was tickled to say buh-bye to the 9-5, but that also meant cutting all recreational spending: i.e., piano lessons. I’d stopped regularly practicing sometime before, but swore to myself that the second I could afford it I would get back in the habit and recommence classes. Andrew understood, but warned me that he might be teaching elsewhere when we next met.
“The friars are renting the church out for concerts and events more and more, so I might have to find a new spot.”
“Wait a minute,” I pressed. “Andrew, it sounds like you’re getting gentrified out of the church!”
“HA!” echoed high to the ceilings. I’d finally gotten him to laugh.
I must admit that the most piano I have “played” since then has been air piano. It was what saved me during some rough turbulence on the last flight I took. Like many, I am terrified of flying, and usually try to knock myself out with merlot as a remedy. But, seeing as my flight was at 8am, even I felt too dignified to get tipsy.
Fortunately, the good people of Delta Airlines now have free, decent music aboard. I listened to Olafur Arnolds’ latest LP Island Songs on repeat, as well as a Bill Evans compilation several times. The piano, once again, took me over and soothed me – especially when I fervently “played” along. I kept my performance underneath my blanket however; just so other passengers wouldn’t think I was a complete nutter.
When I was recovering in Washington, before my lessons ever began, L would sometimes invite me to join him at the piano. “Just play the white keys,” he would say as I fumbled with the naturals. “What happens when I play the black keys?” I’d strike a sharp before he could answer, wincing at its sourness. Eventually I shied away, feeling far too vulnerable in front of someone who has been playing most of his life.
You’d think after a year of piano lessons I’d be less timid, but nothing has changed. My sister constantly offers the piano for me to practice when I visit. A songwriter and music teacher, sis claims that no one in the house minds, and that she uses it for “mediocre piano hour” all the time.
But I can’t do it. I become rigid, stewed in anxiety. I am not proficient. I am not a performer. And I’m certainly not a virtuoso.
Matthew Milia and his gaggle of lovelorn folkies – otherwise known as Frontier Ruckus – return with a sardonic make-out party prelude to their forthcoming record Enter the Kingdom. The sad, sensual clip for latest single “Our Flowers Are Still Burning” offers a camcorder view of social loneliness ahead of the album’s February 17th release. A slow-dance, folk-ified, Big Star-esque confessional with a touch of reversed male gaze, “Flowers” instills hopeful resonance with listlessness revery, something the Frontier gang has championed and expanded upon.
Singer and guitarist Anna Burch documents the party through a vintage handheld, a perfect companion to Ruckus’ boxes-in-your-parents-attic aesthetic. The low-key gathering is standard Detroit, containing a quiet cast of characters who find temporary love, lust and casual catharsis in one another. Burch wanders upstairs to discover Milia alone, singing and soaking fully clothed in a running shower as spit swapping commences downstairs. Whether Milia is struck by social anxiety, heartache or an overwhelming sense of not knowing his role in the grand (and not-so-grand) scheme of things, Burch lovingly coerces him from his bath time meltdown with the promise of a cake decorated with sugary, saccharine letters spelling out the song’s title.
The band leaves the house party in the dead of winter, Milia still wet and without a jacket or a lover, but surrounded by his Frontier Ruckus bandmates, resigned to keep on trucking even in the harsh light of the morning after.
Grab a tissue or a kiss and take a sad soak with Frontier Ruckus below:
Taiwanese-based singer-song writer and actress Enno Cheng is doing a long stay in the Big Apple. She just finished recording a new album, Pluto, due April and she is now working on her first book. Moreover, she just played her debut show in New York at The Rockwood Music Hall in Manhattan.
On a rainy afternoon, we sat down at a delicate coffee shop in Soho and chatted about her stay in New York, her upcoming solo album and her love for cosmology.
Audiofemme: You’ve been in New York for about two weeks now, what is one of your observations so far?
Enno: I have attended a few shows since I got here, and the first thing that I picked up on was how self-centered audience members at concerts in New York are. And I don’t mean that in a negative way. I mean how captivated they are when they are attending concerts. No one seems to care about their surroundings. Everyone is lost in his or her own world. It’s pretty magical!
So, I think my biggest observation is that New Yorkers certainly know how to live in the moment and enjoy all of the moments. It doesn’t matter if they are dancing along with music, walking on a random street or just living their daily routines, they don’t hide nor do they shy away from their feelings and emotions; they enjoy it. I think this is a really special thing.
Audiofemme: What is your daily routine like in New York?
Enno: Walking everywhere, everyday. I walk all over the place because New York is a new city to me, there’s so much stuff to see. Whether it is a broad road, a tiny alley, a wall of graffiti, a funny street sign, an interesting restaurant or just people on the street. There are always things to discover.
Audiofemme: Is there a specific song you’ve been listening to a lot since you got here?
Enno: I have Warpaint’s “New Song” on repeat like all the time. It’s the perfect walking around song for me. And I appreciate their arrangements here a lot.
Audiofemme: What are some of your plans in 2017?
Enno: I’m going to release my new solo album Pluto this year. Basically going to start all the promotions for the release as soon as I am back to Taiwan. Also, I’m currently working on publishing a book. I have been writing a lot. So the album and the book are my two main focuses for 2017, and they pretty much will occupy all of my time this year.
Audiofemme: Your last solo album was called Neptune (2011) and your upcoming album is called Pluto (due April 2017); both of them are named after planets, does the cosmos have a special place in your heart?
Enno: I have been obsessed with cosmology since I was little. I especially enjoyed visiting the planetarium and am very fond of the stars and planets. I find the universe very romantic, in that it can be very gigantic, but it can also be very tiny. There’s no definite; it is all about relativity. This is similar to how I see the world, and the way people interact with each other. One tends to be attracted to the bigger and stronger other. Relativity is all it is.
Audiofemme: How do these two albums differ?
Enno: Neptune and Pluto definitely have different focuses. To being with, I need to start with the relationship of these two planets. Neptune is the farthest planet in the Solar System. Pluto (which is no longer in the Solar System) is a weird one because it interferes with all the other planets in the Solar System except Neptune. Rather, it moves forward with Neptune. They stare at each other in a relative distance.
The surface of Neptune is very cold but internally the planet is hot. At the time when I was making Neptune, I thought this represented me precisely. During the Neptune days, I was still pretty introverted. I hadn’t met a lot of people or experienced many events in life. Therefore, most of the songs in that album were actually monologues to myself; they were actually very personal.
However, years have passed, I have been though various phases, got exposed to other people, grown up and have become a more extroverted and direct person. So, Pluto is more about the strong connection I have with people. It has to do with human relationships; it has to do with love.
Keep your ears out for Pluto, out this April, and in the meantime peep a few of Enno’s gorgeous tunes from Neptune below:
Betty Who’s latest single “Human Touch” is the pop dream we’ve been waiting to have.
It’s bubbly and upbeat, danceworthy and synthy—pretty much, it’s everything we’ve come to expect from Betty Who at this point. The Australian songstress’ voice is layered in a way that makes it sound both silky and husky simultaneously, dancing between the varying synths. It’s fun, sexy and exultant, and will have you grabbing your dancing shoes, anxious for the weekend.
With a very Beatles-esque vibe, Goodman is here to bring a bit of sunshine and chill to your dreary winter days with his latest single “Hiccup.”
Singer/songwriter Michael Goodman delivers us this feel-good track that walks the line between pop rock and surf rock, and it’s got us feeling all sorts of feels. Its repetitive beat, peppered with claps and hiccups, will have you grooving in your seat.
Keep an eye out for his full-length album The Vicissitudes, which is expected to drop in February on Invertebrate Records.
This Protest Album Features Carrie Brownstein, Stephen Malkmus
Quasi’s Janet Weiss and Sam Coomes organized and contributed to the Battle Hymns compilation. Name your price for the download, which benefits Planned Parenthood, the American Civil Liberties Union, and 350.org. Buy it here.
Our First 100 Days Kicks Off With Angel Olsen
Our First 100 Days is a project designed to counteract a certain someone (hint: evil and orange) who is starting their first 100 days as well. For $30 or more, you’ll get all of the exclusive songs and, according to their website, your money will “go directly to organizations working on the front lines of climate, women’s rights, immigration and fairness.”Listen to Olsen’s track, “A Fly On Your Wall,” below and get more information about the musicians and organizations involved here.
Stand Up For Love With Andrew Bird & Jeff Tweedy
Stand Up For Love is a three hour telethon is happening today, and aims to raise $500,000 to defend civil liberties. It started at 12:30pm, but I’m betting the page will host an archived version.The website states that celebrities such Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Jane Fonda, Robert Reich, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Tom Morello, Adrian Grenier, David Duchovny, Misha Collins, Michael Franti, Andrew Bird, Jamie Lee Curtis, Tim Robbins, and Jeff Tweedy of Wilco will be featured.
Covers For A Cause With Littler, Abi Reimold & More
“Don’t Stop Now” is a collection of covers that benefits the ACLU. From the Bandcamp page: “This compilation is an expression of love, anger, hope and protest on inauguration day… Each dollar donated will help protect the people of the United States, especially those most vulnerable, from the reckless authority of a Trump presidency.” There’s 38 songs in total; stream below and buy it here.
It may be difficult to remember what politicized youth culture looks like. Some of us weren’t born in time to witness it at full wattage – in the student-helmed anti-war campaigns of the 1960s. The Civil Rights Movement that marched for the cessation of our own domestic race war. The efforts of second-wave feminists to seal with mortar the gender gap that has plagued most of human history. The Reagan-era LGBT activists, who effectively fought the religious right’s claim that AIDS was solely God’s way of eliminating the gays. Or the more widespread fury Reagan’s cabinet stoked in the poor, the disenfranchised, and the mentally ill when they binned the Mental Health Systems Act just as they were settling into office.
All of these efforts found their way into youth culture, whether directly, or just as an undeniable force of the time. Film, fashion, literature and music reflected the political unrest of their respective era in one way or another. And because youth culture and pop culture are all but synonyms in this country, whatever the “kids” liked was as pervasive back then as it is now.
Despite their history, politics and pop culture have an unsteady relationship. When we look specifically at music and politics, there lies an on-again, off-again affair that is as fickle as a middle school romance. From a zoomed-out, perhaps overly simplified lens, the pattern of their union seems to ebb and flow, with en vogue factions of politically incensed music followed by complacency and nihilism.
The anti-Vietnam War activists were emboldened by the music of Bob Dylan, Edwin Starr, Pete Seeger, Joan Baez, to name a few. Seeger and Baez’s politics in particular overlapped with their support for the Civil Rights Movement. While the latter effort inspired the likes of Nina Simone, Gil Scott Heron, and Marvin Gaye, among many. The Black Power Movement and Black Panther Party found an odd ally in the likes of Detroit radicals the MC5, and the proliferation of politico punk during Regan’s reign is undeniable.
Punk was one of the few musical styles that seemed to morph its focus within the same genre. The substance-fueled hedonism of the mid-to-late ‘70s (Richard Hell and the Voidoids, The Dead Boys, The Germs, etc.) eventually gave way to the more substantive and topical songs of bands like Reagan Youth, Dead Kennedys, Youth Brigade, and Crass.
Arguably, the latter camp’s music is less lauded on a critical level, but both have their place in political and sonic history. While first wave punk certainly had many things to rebel against (The Eagles), it was also sprouting out of a time in which youth culture wasn’t as politicized. The Ramones weren’t exactly partisan revolutionaries staging protests and forming their own Weather Underground. First wave punk was more cultural rebellion than it was political rebellion, despite what Malcolm McLaren would have liked you to believe about his Sex Pistols, or his New York Dolls, whom he steered into a phony, late career Communist phase. It was more shock marketing than an actual political statement.
Second wave punk, despite being less inclined to smuggle interesting pop melodies, jazz, and a love of Doo-wop into its songs, had a whole hell of a lot to rebel against. Of course, everybody still hated The Eagles, but the onslaught of Reagan’s conservative policies, the oversold, underperforming promise of a suburban utopia (let alone an urban one), and the apolitical punk movement just before, left more to be desired.
The very aimless debauchery of previous punks inspired D.C.’s Straight Edge Movement, helmed by Minor Threat, whereas bands across the country needed only speed as an impetus for changing the game. Once showing its component parts of rock n’ roll and other beloved genres, punk had grown a thicker skin and put on a war helmet. When hardcore emerged with bands like Black Flag and Bad Brains, it somehow morphed what punk meant for generations. It had literally been hardened, and shined like a weapon. No longer existing for the sake of its own exploratory purposes, but as a vessel for discourse and agitation.
And it wasn’t just the punks who were getting political. The Reagan administration saw criticism from musicians obscure and mainstream both. Let us not forget that despite Reagan’s misuse of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born In The U.S.A.,” as his re-election campaign score, the song is in fact a damning reprimand of Reagan’s mistreatment of American veterans and his economic policies. Even His Purple Majesty Prince used music to criticize Reagan in cuts like, “Ronnie Talk to Russia” and “Sign o’ the Times.”
Sadly, none of this has happened in my lifetime. Though it may not be entirely true, I feel as though I have lived in a time period without its own protest music. I was too young to understand the relevance of ‘90s rap, let alone remember it as it happened. Only now, with detached hindsight can I see that it too was protest music, no matter how much the media tried to demonize it. I remember a smattering of artists, mostly smallish in name, condemn the Bush administration in the early 2000s…but I also remember that when a mainstream band tried to be critical, they got panned.
I will never forget how unexpected country sweethearts the Dixie Chicks nearly lost their fan base when in 2003, singer Natalie Maines spoke out against Bush at the Sheperd’s Bush Empire Theater in London:
“Just so you know, we’re on the good side with y’all. We do not want this war, this violence, and we’re ashamed that the President of the United States is from Texas.”
I didn’t start immediately loving every song the Dixie Chicks put out, but I was sure as hell proud that a mainstream country act would risk the bulk of their followers to speak their mind.
There has long been a lull in political music. The eight years of Obama’s presidency have left us complacent – and they shouldn’t have. There is always something to improve. Just as the second crop of punks made the genre their own; just as the second wave feminists worked to continue what the first wave had laid for them; just as the Black Lives Matter movement has taken the still blazing torch from the Civil Rights activists; it is the turn of the artists, the authors, and the songwriters, to match the task at hand with cultural inspiration. Fiona Apple knows this, as she’s already given us two anti-Trump tunes. There was of course her Christmas parody, “Trump’s Nuts Roasting on an Open Fire” released just around the holidays. But her new song, “Tiny Hands” is one to march to.
When the sandy shores of a zombie beach party meet the salty lawlessness of a vintage wild west shoot-out, you would likely find yourself galloping within the Tarantino-lite dreamworld crafted by the latest tracks from garage pop threesome Prude Boys.
The Outlaw, though only two tracks long, make for a grungy Lee Hazelwood x Nancy Sinatra reboot while garnering imagery of seduction and escape with their uniquely refined and playful nostalgia. The opening riff from the titled track is reminiscent of The Dandy Warhols lick from “You Were the Last High” but in Prude Boys uptempo context feels urgent and authentic surrounded by vocalist Caroline Myrick’s haunted warble. Wildly expressive without much deviation, “The Outlaw” is genre-less and toggles between what feels like fantasy cinema and curious reality like a chase through the Hollywood backlots and sound stages, dipping in and out of backdrops of ghost towns and real life coffee shops.
“You Plague My Dreams” follows “The Outlaw” with a jutting rock tale of a lingering lover. Tormented by wanting to stay but the unfair crimes of still hanging around even while deep into the R.E.M cycle, our antagonists find ways to make resentment soft and make guitars sound as though they are slamming doors. Though a little less obvious in its cinematic tonality than the EP’s opener, “You Plague My Dreams” finds itself in the closing credits territory which is apropos for a band with a knack for seeing the bigger picture.
Saddle up and get rowdy with the latest from Prude Boys below:
“There is a need to reweave our nation’s social fabric as it is being torn.” This is Linda Friedman Schmidt’s poignant appraisal of Trump’s America. Schmidt is one of 80 female visual artists taking part in UPRISE/ANGRY WOMEN, an exhibition at Tribeca’s The Untitled Space gallery this Tuesday, just in time for the Inauguration – and nationwide marches of resistance. The exhibit will run until January 28th, and will showcase the work of artists from all over the country.
Just two months ago, enraged and stupefied by the outcome of November’s Presidential Election, artist and founder of The Untitled Magazine and Space Indira Cesarine rallied her fellow creative women to action. On The Untitled’s website Cesarine invoked artists to submit topical work embodying their post election fear, devastation, and outrage…it was an open call for artistic activism.
“The 2016 election has brought to the surface extremes of sexism, racism and discrimination,”Cesarine wrote. “A dark cloud looms over those who respect ideals of equal rights, human dignity and humanitarianism…Artists are encouraged to empower themselves and others with works for the “Angry Women” exhibit that responds to the political and social climate as well as explore themes revolving around feminism today and female empowerment.”
UPRISE/ANGRY WOMEN will feature works by new and established contemporary artists, including pieces by Rose McGowan, Jennifer Dwyer, Kristen Williams, Haile Bins, Boo Lynn Walsh, and Cara DeAngelis, to name but a few.
Additionally, the exhibit has partnered with the ERA Coalition – the organization working to pass and ratify the Equal Rights Amendment in our Constitution. The Untitled Space will donate 25% of all proceeds from the exhibit to further their initiative.
I sat down with Cesarine at her gallery to discuss feminist art, a woman’s right to choose, and the importance of solidarity.
Audiofemme: What was the impetus for UPRISE/ANGRY WOMEN?
Indira Cesarine: I think that every woman with any level of integrity, who has any concern with human rights and progression and the importance of diversity and equality – a lot of those people are really shocked by the outcome of the election. I think it was a wake up call to a lot of people. Right now our human rights are being put up in question, and the idea that you can take those as a given is no longer a fact.
I thought this was a great opportunity to shed light on how woman are feeling today, through the work of female visual artists, and not only address how women are feeling about the election, but about the future of women’s rights, about the challenges that women face, and the importance of solidarity.
This is the first exhibit at the gallery that is open to submissions. We had over 400 artists submit over 1,800 works of art.
Originally the show was going to be twenty artists, and I’ve decided to extend it to 80 artists, just one work of art per artist, that way we can have as many different women in the show as possible. The work is so unique and has so much passion. Quite a few works are unique pieces that have been made just for the show, while others were made while the election was going on or in the past year when everything was reaching blood-boiling temperatures.
What is your biggest fear in regards to women’s rights given the current political climate?
One of the biggest issues is [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”][Trump’s] determination to roll back women’s rights with regards to abortion, and I think this is one of the most dangerous and potentially horrific things that could happen to women today. I strongly believe that no one should be able to tell a woman whether or not she’s allowed to make decisions with regards to her body…particularly when it comes to the early trimesters of pregnancy.
They just passed in Ohio, a ban on abortions after twenty weeks, and in many states they’re trying to close the gap of when you can have an abortion. But the problem with that is that you can’t even get a lot of the testing for disease and various things that might go wrong in your pregnancy. Like the Zika virus; you have to be further along to be tested for things like that. It’s one of those issues where there are a lot of women that may have been raped, and, just the amount of women who can’t afford to have kids, that may be stuck in the middle of this political war over whether the government should be allowed to dictate these sort of things. I don’t think the government should have anything to do with it.
For me, it’s also a really personal issue, because my grandmother died of an abortion. My mother was eleven when my grandmother died. Her mother had already had several children. She was married to a very abusive man. This was at a time when there was nothing you could really do if you had an abusive husband, there was no legal recourse to do anything for domestic violence, and she got pregnant again.
She finds out she’s pregnant with her fifth child, they’re dirt poor, she cannot afford it…she physically and mentally was not capable of having another child. So she sought out an abortion on her own and died of blood poisoning. She was rushed to the hospital and nobody would help her.
When you look at those circumstances – I really think that could potentially happen today if we revert back to the coat hanger tactics where women have to go to back alleys to get abortions.
This whole pro-life thing, well whose life are supporting here? What about the women who are living and breathing right now on this planet? These basic human rights that people take for granted – at the end of the day that is all potentially going to be pulled out from underneath us, if [Trump] gets his way. I think it’s all a big tactic of reverting women back into the home, being barefoot and pregnant and taking away the progress we’ve made.
“Our Bodies Our Choice” by Kelly Witte
It’s absurd because people think that if you make something illegal it goes away, but it’s like Prohibition: it doesn’t go away. Women don’t stop getting abortions…they just get worse abortions.
Exactly.
You’ve formed an alliance with the ERA Coalition for this show; can you talk about the importance of their work?
The ERA Coalition was founded by Jessica Neuwirth, and they have an incredible board of directors which includes Gloria Steinem and a lot of important feminist activists. They’ve recently worked with Patricia Arquette, Jane Fonda and a lot of phenomenal women who are all very vocal about the importance of having an Equal Rights Amendment in the Constitution. I think it’s incredible that in 2017 we still don’t have an Equal Rights Amendment in the Constitution. A lot of people think that it’s in the Constitution, but it’s not. There are all kinds of sex discrimination issues that are in various laws and elements of our system, but when it comes down to making it to the Supreme Court, there is nothing in our Constitution that says that you can’t discriminate against women. Sex discrimination happens on a daily basis to women all over the country, and there’s very little you can do about it.
It’s up to interpretation state-by-state.
Exactly! I think that it’s very important for the ERA to be revisited and that there be a movement for it to be included in the constitution. Many years ago it was three states short of being ratified, but largely in part to this woman Phyllis Schlafly, who insisted that, ‘if there’s an ERA amendment, we’re going to have to use co-ed bathrooms and women might lose some of the rights they have as housewives, and gay men might be able to get married!’ But, guess what? All those things are commonplace now. The ERA amendment never passed because they created this fear campaign that ‘women might have to use co-ed bathrooms and they could get raped,’ and as a result, a lot of women got scared and voted against it. It’s fascinating that it was a woman who created the fear campaign against the ERA amendment, and I hope that it does have a possibility to be reconsidered.
I read in an interview that when you originally became an artist you didn’t initially gravitate towards activism; that it was something you later came to. Was there some kind of catalyst in your experiences that made you think, ‘I have to take action’?
It’s really interesting you ask that. I went to school at Columbia University and I got a triple major in art history, French literature and women’s studies. I was actively working as an artist – painting, printmaking, photography – all kinds of things before I started my path as a professional photographer. I was incredibly active when it came to feminism and women’s rights issues when I was in high school and in college, but with my photography I got steered into working as a fashion photographer. I had all these incredible opportunities that happened to me when I was so young, that diverted my attention away from my artwork and from feminism. As a commercial photographer I tried to create empowering images of women, but often the work gets diluted by the time it is published in the magazines. They edit the photos and definitely the message is lost.
Although I was one of the few female fashion photographers out there when I started in the early 90’s, so in many respects I was a pioneer of sorts as a woman in a male dominated industry. It wasn’t until many years later, after I launched my own magazine, and stopped working freelance, that my interests really shifted back to my art and interest in feminism as an important aspect of my life. I think that when I started working on the GirlPower issue of The Untitled Magazine, which was an entire issue dedicated to feminism produced exclusively by creative women. I think that was a turning point for me for sure. I launched The Untitled Space gallery that same year, which focuses on Women in Art.
Artwork featured in the UPRISE: ANGRY WOMEN exhibit, left to right, Ingrid V. Wells, Annika Connor, Lili White
How has working so many years in the fashion industry – a microcosm often accused of abetting the objectification of women – altered your perception of how society treats women? Has it informed your approach to feminism?
For many years when I was working as a fashion photographer I didn’t even tell people I was a feminist, as the fashion industry didn’t really align with feminism. It was treated like a bad word for a long time. I think that has changed now as they have seen the younger generation take a vast interest in the subject and it became “trendy” to be a feminist. For the most part I don’t really think the fashion industry (or the modeling industry) really promotes feminism with the general focus being so much on looks. Some designers are incorporating body positive fashion and there is a push for plus sized fashion in the past few years but I think we have a long way to go.
Are there any artists in the show you are particularly excited about?
We received artwork from artists all over the country, and they each brought a different message to the exhibit. I was extremely impressed with the diversity in the artwork, and the artist statements. We had such a varied response – from anger to fear, sadness, and humor. Some of the artwork is very serious, with a dark ominous undertone, while other artists created very powerful satirical works that have an enormous amount of strength in the message behind the humor. We have artwork from emerging seventeen-year-old artists, to very established artists who have exhibited in major museums. Rose McGowan created a very dynamic video art piece called “WOMANSWOMB”.
“Donald Trump with a Crown of Roadkill” by Cara DeAngelis
With exhibits you’ve done like Self Reflection and In The Raw, there was a huge focus on women reclaiming their image from the male gaze; how will UPRISE differ from past exhibitions?
Previous exhibits have had that element, but I think that this particular exhibit is very political in nature. I think that previous exhibits here were very focused on themes revolving around feminism and, like you said, reclaiming the female body. But this particular show is probably one of the most emotionally engaging exhibits. This is probably the most diverse exhibit we’ve done.
I definitely think that the undertone of the female voice as a roar is very powerful throughout all of our exhibits, and it’s my mission to make feminist art as a genre more accessible and viable in the art market, but I also felt that this show meant a lot to women who were grappling with their emotions and trying to figure out how to handle it, and how could they in some way have a positive impact. How could they inspire and empower other women to be the strong voices that we need right now to combat what we have ahead? We need to put our combat boots on.
The idea of anger is really motivating, and it’s a good thing to hear because I think people shy away from it too much.
Oh, so many people said, “do you have to call it Angry Women?” I’m playing on the stereotype of women being angry as being bad; that women have to smile all the time, be pretty, be nice to everyone; that women can’t have a stern, distinctive point of view, strong voice; that they’re not allowed to be leaders in their community or the workforce, because what happens when you have a female boss, if she’s remotely strong, everybody says she’s a bitch. Men don’t get treated that way; it’s a total double standard. I think that’s one of the biggest things holding women back. That systematic attitude that a powerful woman is angry…there’s something wrong with that.
I couldn’t agree more. I think the whole idea of just being ‘positive’ and not speaking up is such a subjugating tactic.
Of course. I think that it’s important to channel your anger in a positive way so that you can empower yourself and empower others while you’re at it.
I was thinking of the exhibition when I saw Madonna’s speech at the Billboard Women In Music Awards; what did you think of it?
I thought it was very powerful, we wrote about it in Untitled, I thought it was great. I think she said some very powerful things about the stereotyping and discrimination she faced being a female in music. I think that it is important for women to speak up and be honest on these subjects and it was a brave thing for her to do.
Within the music industry, many feminist musicians take issue with language like “Front-woman” or “Female Musician.” How do you feel that nomenclature exists within the art world? Is saying “Female Artist” empowering or limiting to you?
I know a lot of female artists who feel their gender has nothing to do with their work, and for many it’s not relevant. I think when it comes to feminist art as a genre, your work is revolving around your gender as a focus, so it’s a different story. I personally have no problem putting “female artist” in front of my name, I’m proud to be a woman and for me personally it’s something that is relevant to my work.
UPRISE/ANGRY WOMEN opens Tuesday, January 17th at The Untitled Space gallery, 45 Lispenard St, NY.
“PROTEST” by Indira Cesarine[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]
St. Vincent, has been in the news this week for several reasons. First, she’s releasing a line of signature guitars with Ernie Ball. The uniquely shaped guitar has with three humbucker pickups and a whammy bar, and comes in four colors (Clark gives a nod to Bowie by referring to the white model as the Thin White Duke). Here’s what it sounds like. Second, she’s directed a segment of a horror series that feature women directors. Hers is titled “Birthday Party,” and features Melanie Lynskey of Togetherness, Heavenly Creatures and But I’m a Cheerleader. Keep scrolling to watch the trailer for all four short films, but prepare to be creeped out. Third, her new album, which she describes as her deepest and boldest, is due sometime in 2017.
Watch A Kim Gordon Interview/Interrogation
Opening with the text “It is well known that Kim Gordon does not like to be interviewed,” the next shot shows the artist, blindfolded. The voice that asks such questions as “When did you know you wanted to be an artist?” and “How many fingers am I holding up?” (too many, she says) is the voice you would use to demand ransom, warped by a computer to be unidentifiable. Some shots place us in the room with her, some show video surveillance of the room. Check it out via Huck:
Scientists Are Covering Sigur Rós’
From their website: “The International Space Orchestra (ISO) is an assembly of star-spangled space scientists from NASA Ames Research Center, Singularity University, and the SETI. The International Space Orchestra is the world’s first orchestra of space scientists… [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”][adapting] science to our creative needs.” They’ve performed with Beck, Damon Albarn, and Bobby Womack and now, by covering the Sigur Rós’ track“Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása” they aim “to reach the final frontier.” Download the track here and listen to the original below.
New York-based Norwegian troubadour Sondre Lerche has been making melancholic pop since 2001 – songs full of heartbreak and lo-fi melodies. Lerche’s last full-length came out in 2014; Please was called his self-proclaimed “divorce album,” a solemn look back at a difficult time. To contrast the album, Lerche released a more uptempo, dancier, remix EP called Despite the Night.
While there’s no set release date for Lerche’s forthcoming LP Pleasure, the singer-songwriter dropped pop-fueled “I’m Always Watching You” in October and a darker, alternate version called “I’m Always Watching You Too” in December. It’s a hazy dream that was a catalyst for the track.
Before Lerche goes on tour this year, we caught up with him about his forthcoming release, how New York has influenced his music. and the most important lessons he has learned as a musician.
Audiofemme: Are you releasing a new album?
Sondre Lerche: I will eventually, yes. I’m just sort of easing into it, I suppose. I released this song “I’m Always Watching You” in two different versions. I’m also releasing probably some more songs and doing this tour in April. By the time we’re doing a year-end tour, there will be a new record.
Can you tell me what the new record will be about?
It’s sort of a liminal-themed record. I feel like all the songs, one way or another, relate to being in limbo or being between two realities or two personalities. It’s definitely some sort of aftermath after some sort dramatic events where you don’t quite know what’s what and you seek to only live in the moment because you can’t stomach to look too far ahead or look back. It’s pretty desperate, joyful, confused and explosive type of record where you seek to only be in the moment. That’s why it’ll be called Pleasure. For better or worse, it’s about things that give you pleasure in the moment and also knowing full well that’s not a place you can live or stay. For the existence of the record, it’s where you are held captive in a sense.
What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned as a musician over the years?
One of them definitely is that it pays to be stubborn. It’s hard to navigate a world where you see yourself as an artist, but you have a lot of contract elements and you’re exposing a lot of different sides to your personality that are sometimes in direct conflict with each other. I both have an outgoing entertainer and more secretive artist inside of me, and they both want to win. I think the one thing I’ve learned is that it’s okay to be stubborn and somebody needs to be stubborn on your behalf. It’s probably going to have to be you. Everybody else can go either way. Nobody is going to feel as passionate about what you do as you. I think in the long-run that kind of stubbornness and focus is what builds character, and that character reveals itself over time. Maybe not in the moment, but you’re building some sort of stamina and character at the audience you cultivate as you go along that you can believe in and trust even if you make some u-turns and left turns. You’re not always going to make everybody happy, and it certainly isn’t the artist’s obligation to do so. But I think over time, character wins…I hope.
Can you tell me about the meaning behind the song “I’ll Always Be Watching You?”
It’s a song from my perspective about someone who has rejected a lover that he can’t get over. It’s navigating that feeling where you have no entitlement: you’ve rejected this love – this relationship. But at the same time, you long for it and regret turning away from it. The only thing you have is social media and spying on the object of all this affection through all of these different vehicles that we have at our disposal. It’s really sort of pathetic because it’s someone who has rejected the real thing but has been left with some pale replacement for real love or intimacy. That feeling intoxicated by the picture on an iPhone and knowing that you don’t even deserve that because you turned it away is what it’s about.
What’s the hardest part of making music for you?
The hardest part is staying at it because we want to feel creative all the time, and you can’t. So, it’s frustrating when you can’t be productive when you want to be productive. I think the hardest part is believing you will write something good again. It’s pretty black and white. Sometimes when I write I feel like nothing good will come of this or I won’t write something I’ll feel motivated to share. When you’re in that part of the process and not really feeling inspired, it just feels like there’s no possibility of inspiration ever hitting you again. The biggest challenge is stay at it. Of course it helps a little bit to have done it over time because then you see the ebbs and flows of the process and you see that the inspiration will return. In the meantime, it’s your responsibility to work, write, stay focused and be diligent and disciplined in your work: that’s the job.
Is there anything you would ever change about your career thus far?
I take great pride in a lot of the songs I write, so it means a lot to me when I see it means a lot to people. It’s not something to take for granted that it will even reach anyone. I’ve been lucky enough that I’ve had audiences across the world. Last year I did some bigger shows at festivals where I dared to think bigger in a sense for the first time in my life and create a show that was made for a bigger audience. That felt really scary to me because there’s really nothing to hide behind if it doesn’t reach a bigger audience or if it doesn’t please a particular audience. It was called “Performance Please”. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. It made me think how cool it was to communicate with a bigger audience and create a big show. I don’t really have a big, mainstream audience anywhere, and I come from a more intimate world of communicating through specific music to a very specific audience who appreciates it. That’s my core: my home. Sometimes I think it would be cool to paint with a really big brush on a stage – to make a big show on a big stage in front of a big audience if someday I have a big enough audience to justify that kind of work. We’ll see.
How did moving to New York influence a shift in your music?
I didn’t really notice such a big shift. As a musician, I’ve been traveling ever since my first record came out. All I know is moving around – I’ve lived here and there, but moving to New York gave me some space to land and get away from everything once the tour was over and once any kind of trip I was on was over. I’m sure it’s opened my eyes to different music than I would have played in Norway or anything else. In New York, you see as a musician the world is yours in a weird way. The only thing you know is that everything is going to change no matter what you do. Everything will move, change, you will seek different inspirations and find different ways of expressing your emotions and you will feel new things that will make you question the work you did before. It’s hard for me to pinpoint how New York specifically plays into that, but I do like how it feels like the center of a certain kind of world. I also like feeling like I can reject it and be alone with my writing. New York combines those things well.
High school. The quivering minutes before debate class. Perspiring and wobbly at the thought of blurting my tenth-grade arguments to a room full of…seniors.
There was only one way to properly cull my nerves before a debate: get furious.
While anger might make some frantic and unhinged, it has long been a friend of mine. Though I may never have realized its cathartic, downright productive abilities had it not been for debate class – and the horror of public speaking as a high school kid.
“Make me mad!” I would goad my classmate, Kim, moments before the great Bloom v. Luker debate of 2006, regarding the legitimacy of the Iraq War (guess which position I took).
“How? What should I say?” my sweet classmate would ask, utterly baffled.
“Talk about what a wonderful president George W. Bush is. Say Evangelical Christian stuff – like how homosexuals are going to burn in hell.”
Kim didn’t become any less confused, but I won that damn debate. Most of the damn debates, for that matter. But had it not been for that little boost of fury, I’m not so sure I would have.
Long has anger been a stigmatized emotion – more so for women than men, unfortunately. What is an incensed woman to do when she is told for decades that 12 Angry Men look like passionate, dutiful citizens, but one angry woman looks like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction?
For the better part of my life, I’ve had an alchemic relationship with anger. What many saw as an unpleasant reaction, I viewed as a primal tool made for navigating the world differently. Getting amped up on adrenaline before debate class didn’t make me an irrational font of diatribe – it calmed me, gave me clarity, and the steadiness of a well-wielded scalpel. After discovering this effect, I naturally found a companion in angry music.
But what does “angry music” mean? I’m not exclusively implying topical music, like the Regan-era politico-punk of Dead Kennedys (though it is all the more relevant these days). What I find significantly more purgative is music that embodies wrath in sound alone – that weaves an aural tapestry of rage. The aggressive guitar symphonies of Glenn Branca’s The Ascension come to mind, as do the sparse yet sinister pieces from George Crumb’s Black Angels album. These records show emotion rather than speak of it, and while anger may not have been the impetus for behind them, it is how I appropriate the work.
Branca’s compositions in particular, especially when experienced live, create an all-consuming force field of sound that overwhelms in a similar way to being bathed in outrage. His incredibly loud, distorted and relentless cacophony of guitars verges on sounding stressful…but in a good way? And yet, after confronting that taxing sensation for a good hour: tranquility ensues.
For quite some time I figured that this off-brand “enlightened” reaction was solely an attribute of my own idiosyncrasies. Perhaps it was a fucked up feature of my being. I’m the person who considers The Exorcist to be one of the greatest movies of all time, after all. I was the kid who would watch tacky, History Channel documentaries on unsolved murders and serial killers after school. Maybe my relationship to anger and its musical spawn was messed up, even unhealthy.
But then, science rushed to my defense! In spring of 2015, Australia’s psychology school at the University of Queensland published a study entitled; “Extreme Metal Music and Anger Processing,” which countered the longstanding assumption that listening to “angry music” increases the listener’s level of anger. The researchers conducting the study found 39 “extreme music listeners aged 18-34,” who were “subjected to an anger induction, followed by random assignment to 10 min of listening to extreme music from their own playlist, or 10 min silence (control).”
The study found that “hostility, irritability, and stress increased during the anger induction, and decreased after the music or silence. Heart rate increased during the anger induction and was sustained (not increased) in the music condition, and decreased in the silence condition.”
The researchers concluded that “extreme” music does not in in fact stoke extreme behavior or delinquency in listeners. “Rather,” as their report claims, “it appeared to match their physiological arousal and result in an increase in positive emotions. Listening to extreme music may represent a healthy way of processing anger for these listeners.”
Finally, there was a demonstrable argument for my fascination with one of our most feared emotions. I no longer feel the need to explain to people why I am unlikely to bop around to the Go-Go’s when in a foul mood. It seems more fitting to thrash around to Merzbow, or Girl Band, or Throbbing Gristle.
I mention all of this, in part because I find it inherently interesting; my fascination with the link between music and mood isn’t going anywhere. But I also mention it in the hopes of arousing the reexamination and repurposing of a sentiment that is so prevalent today. Last week I spoke about how Dresden Dolls’ Amanda Palmer feels that “Donald Trump is going to make punk rock great again,” which would be a function of channeling our collective fury into an art form – something that humans are pretty good at doing.
So as we get closer to inauguration day, and to the nationwide marches in resistance of it, I hope we can remember that anger isn’t always such a bad thing. I hope we can remember that when focused and sharpened like a fine, diamond point, our anger can split the awaiting air, and get us to our destination sooner. Despite what those in power would like to convince us of: anger does not mean violence, just like angry music does not mean delinquency.
Released late last year, Heaven Sent Delinquent is the must-hear folk punk record from “transgender trickster” Shawna Virago. The album is composed of 10 solo acoustic tales, that true or spun from Virago’s brilliance, give us plot lines to how she got to her current hometown. “These are the stories of my generation – a generation of transgender people who came out long before the internet, before transgender celebrities and reality TV stars … before anybody gave a shit about us,” she writes in a press release.
Based in San Fransisco, Virago has performed as an out transwoman since the early 90’s. The artistic director of San Fransisco’s Transgender Film Festival, she’s an artist of many skill sets, and if you are unfamiliar with her work, Heaven Sent Delinquent is a perfect place to start.
When we hear terms such as “Americana” or “folk music,” we’re often flooded with images of cowboys or Bob Dylan – cisgender men. The year is 2017, and it’s time to hear new stories that are more interesting than that you’re used to in the realm of telling tales with a voice and guitar. With queer rebel heroes, with “flame-colored hair, and rhinestoned suits,” Heaven Sent Delinquent paints the landscape of your mind with a cast of outsiders on road trips and love stories, enjoying escape with whiskey out of paper cups. “Too many of us were runaways, survivors. But we never gave up. These songs are the stories of myself and my friends. How we managed to find each other in an unfriendly world, fought together, loved each other,” writes Virago’ in a press release.
From crashing cars through the gates of heaven in a gender rebellion to calling out a lover’s fear and vanity, Virago’s vivid story-telling abilities and haunting voice are perhaps best introduced on the album’s first single, “Gender Armageddon,” a song penned as a “tribute to the desperate camaraderie of queer outsiders not afraid to punch back against a hostile world.”
Yet don’t stop there. The album slows down to make way for melancholy on “Last Night’s Sugar,” and she’ll strum your range of emotions on the title track “Heaven Sent Delinquent,” an anthem for “outsiders too timid or shackled by family and economics to make it out of the oppressive towns where they were born” Perhaps one of Virago’s most apt gifts on the album is an ability to blend emotions into song as complicated as they sit within our hearts – and not only make sense out of them – but art. Such skills are evoked on “Anniversary Song,” that celebrates love as much as her own independence.
In our current political climate, there’s been a lot of discussion on how to be an ally and the validity and importance of turning pain into art. If you’re looking for a place to start, support trans artists like Shawna Virago, but not simply for her gender, but because her music is dope.
What do you get when you mix emoji-filled birthday texts from mom, a drunken journey through liquor store shelves and conflicted selves, plastic cup inebriation, and happy-to-be-alive appreciation? Well, you might just find yourself wrapped up in the warm and quiet crisis of “I See You” the latest from Bonny Doon and the first taste from their upcoming self-titled record due out in March.
As far as first tastes go, “I See You” presents a homesick perspective on getting older and the relatable desperate need to piece together mundane imagery in hopes of finding some grand meaning to the grand scheme. Though the song is melancholically fixed with little swell or progression the across the board vulnerability is dutiful and unassuming in its observational self-cruelty. Following a similar cadence of the Smog track “Hit The Ground Running” lyricist and vocalist Bill Lennox achingly croons “I saw my reflection in a bottle of wine/like a neon sign/flickering my name like a drunken call to an old flame.” Troubled and honest “I See You” is a shrugging of the shoulders at the thought of the future and flat beer sipping of the past.
Like 2016’s “Keep Your Name,” “Little Bubble” comes from a reimagined versions of Dirty Projectors as a Dave Longstreth solo project. The former featured samples from old Dirty Projectors songs; the latter references their “Hi, Custodian” film. This newest video also features sad scenes of the songwriter alone, in an oasis of grass, a greenhouse, sitting on a cliff. At one point there’s a shot of a dead bird on the ground, but as the camera pulls back, we realize it’s on an iPad. Watch and listen to “Little Bubble” below:
We Need To Talk About Coachella
There have been calls to boycott the incredibly popular music festival, which spans two weekends in the California desert. Here are the details: The festival is thrown by the production company Goldenvoice, which was bought by AEG in 2001. AEG is owned by Philip Anschutz, who has been known to advocate for conservative causes and has been accused by theWashington Post of using his foundation to fund anti-gay groups, and according to the New York Times, has lobbied against climate change and gave donations to groups against gay marriage. This leaves both artists and concert goers in a predicament, as Goldenvoice/AEG not only put on Coachella, but enough concerts in venues across the world to account for over half of global ticket sales in 2016. That’d be a lot of concerts to miss, but are they worth it?
Musician Murals Featured On New Subway Line
The 2nd Avenue subway line has finally been completed, and includes “the largest permanent public art installations in state history.” The station at 85th Street features huge portraits of Philip Glass, Lou Reed, Zhang Huan, Kara Walker, Alex Katz, Cecily Brown, and Cindy Sherman. There are also two self-portraits by the photorealist artist, Chuck Close.
Other Highlights
Jenny Hval makes a statement about nudity with the very NSFW video for “The Great Undressing;” The fictional Gorillaz character Noodle “released” a playlist of “kick-ass women” artists; Sleater-Kinney paid tribute to Bowie and George Michael on NYE; and Terrence Malick made a film about the Austin music scene which could be cool or insufferable.
New year, old song, new video: the perfect transition into a what is sure to be a creatively bountiful year for Detroit and beyond. While our gaggle of talent puts the finishing touches on upcoming projects, releases and new visions Flint Eastwood’s latest video for “Oblivious” a track from last year’s Small Victories EPis a beautifully hyped visual for a song that begs to brace for change with a tumultuous fluidity. We find our heroine Jax Anderson, dressed in her usual dapper, western priestess attire dancing a warrior dance with similarly clad compatriots in a warehouse space. We are also introduced to our antagonist and mysterious femme fatale, who is shown by the lakeside and sauntering through a wheat field cloaked in black with rope precariously in hand. “Oh, I keep my eyes closed/Keep my mind oblivious, oblivious” claims Anderson, covering her eyes mid-dance as if to insinuate that our blindness is voluntary. It is with that imagery that Anderson is ambushed and a black bag is thrown over her head as she is dragged off and kidnapped. The most striking visual component is the violently ethereal underwater footage of our simply clothed leading women, swirling about in a tangled tango of light and dark as we are confronted with sporadic shots of what must be a brief life-flashing-before-your-eyes moment. The water bubbles look like cosmic explosions against bare skin and the mirrored black tile crosses which feel curiously morbid in context. Are we in control? Is it best to remain oblivious and be swept up in spontaneous fate? For a pop song, Flint Eastwood poses existential quandaries and pairs them with brooding cinematic storytelling that keeps us guessing, heads just above water.
The most striking visual component is the violently ethereal underwater footage of our simply clothed leading women, swirling about in a tangled tango of light and dark as we are confronted with sporadic shots of what must be a brief life-flashing-before-your-eyes moment. The water bubbles look like cosmic explosions against bare skin and the mirrored black tile crosses which feel curiously morbid in context. Are we in control? Is it best to remain oblivious and be swept up in spontaneous fate? For a pop song, Flint Eastwood poses existential quandaries and pairs them with brooding cinematic storytelling that keeps us guessing, heads just above water.
The first words of the New Year can be a daunting thing to write. Even I wouldn’t be ok grumbling about the sham that is the Grammys or those horrible things Kim Burrell said right off the bat. I also have no interest in penning some twee, “New Year, New Me” laundry list of goals for 2017, and the music that somehow represents said goals. Entering 2017, I stand conflicted…ambivalent, above all else.
When we begin a new year, we don’t simply light a brand new fire. We also sit in the ashes of the annum past – we experience time more as an unbroken string of events than something parceled out neatly in weeks and months. On a personal level, 2016 was a pretty great year for me. I somehow procured a dream job. I met interesting people. I loved a lot. But looking outside of my own experience, the year was an utter shit storm.
I have spent the past few days trying to reconcile the rift between the fate I’ve enjoyed and the impending global doom that hovers above inauguration day. It ain’t easy. 2016 was the paradoxical year in which Bob Dylan won the Nobel prize for literature, but Donald Trump was elected president. It was the year that gave us Blackstar, and You Want It Darker, but killed David Bowie and Leonard Cohen, among several others. And while many may find solace in the grace of god, Pilates, or hard drugs, I turn to music as if it’s religion. I look to my records like I am reading tea leaves – and in them I find hope.
So while I have no enduring optimism for humanity, the future of music is a still-bright horizon to set my sight upon. And because of that, I have no catalog of musical new year’s resolutions – no goals etched into stone. But I do have a list of hopes.
I hope to be continually moved by musicians who endlessly reinvent the song, like Michael Gordon and a throng of producers did on Timber: Remixed, one of my favorite releases of 2016. It seems that Brian Eno may be ahead of the curve on this one, as he released his one-track album “Reflection” on New Year’s Day. The 54-minute song is whirring and pensive. It is ceaseless and ever expanding…pacifying and hypnotic in a way that only Eno can achieve. The fact that Eno eschews pause throughout seems both simple and groundbreaking simultaneously – an unrelenting wall of sound that inspires constant focus. The opposite of the high turnover, two-bit pop song.
It was a great way to start a scary new year. Fortunately, I am fearless regarding the state of music to come. Bonobo will release his new record, Migration, on January 13. The album’s leading single “Break Apart” (featuring Rhye) is a twinkling, somber lullaby merging R&B and ambient balladry. In February, New York’s coldest and cruelest month, we will at least be warmed by the experimental pop melodies of Xiu Xiu, who will drop their 11th album, FORGET, on February 24. The blissfully melancholic band helmed by Jamie Stewart, teased the single “Wondering” in late 2016, and will embark on a nationwide tour just before springtime. That is certainly something to look forward to.
This year, I hope that in addition to pushing the boundaries sonically, artists will continue to use their work to further political and social discourse the way Solange did with A Seat At The Table, Anohni with HOPELESSNESS, and Common with Black America Again. Some believe that the imminent political nightmare we face will only acclimatize artists to sincere, topical music. Protest music. ‘You need pressure to make diamonds,’ etc. One such believer is Dresden Dolls’ Amanda Palmer, who recently said in a press conference that, “Frightening political climates make for really good, real, authentic art.”
Palmer went on to liken our current situation to Weimar Germany and the cultural renaissance that flourished there in trying times:
“But being an optimist … there is this part of me – especially having studied Weimar Germany extensively – I’m like, ‘This is our moment.’ Donald Trump is going to make punk rock great again. We’re all going to crawl down staircases into basements and speakeasies and make amazing satirically political art.
If the political climate keeps getting uglier, the art will have to answer. We will have to fight.”
It seems a tarnished silver lining, as I’d gladly trade a punk rock reboot for affordable healthcare, stable foreign policy, and a safe nation for minorities. But maybe Palmer is right – maybe she is just being the dutiful optimist she claims to be, and at times like these we could all use a little optimism.
I hope that this year, we lose fewer artists. Zero, if possible. But if we must bid them adieu, I hope that they get a chance to say their farewell with a magnum opus in the style of You Want It Darker and Blackstar, because I can’t think of a better way to say goodbye.
I hope that somehow, we do not lose any music venues this year. 2016 robbed us of Manhattan Inn, Cake Shop, Elvis Guesthouse, and Secret Project Robot (don’t even get me started on the Record Shop fatalities), and it’s sometimes too depressing to think about. I hope that in 2017 new, adventurous venues open their doors to us. Or, at the very least, I hope that no more close their doors for the sake of new Tex-Mex joints, or high-end clothing stores, or luxury condos.
I hope to be perpetually amazed by this crazy, nonsensical thing we call the music industry, potentially the only market in which physical media, like vinyl records, can outsell weightless digital downloads in the year 2016. Maybe it’s just a temporary spike sparked by a fad, but it feels like for once quality is winning over convenience. Even if consumers are mostly hanging LPs on their dorm room walls, I’m simply happy that wax is here to stay – for now.
More than anything I hope that in 2017 we persevere. Culturally, politically, personally, artistically, socially, and of course, musically.
Need an energy boost? Smallpools has got you covered with their latest song.
Upbeat, fast-paced, and energetic to an almost manic point, “Run with the Bulls” will shake you up and course throughout you. Then suddenly, just as you’re getting really into it, it’ll end, leaving you grasping in the darkness for more. With synths that won’t quit, a solid guitar riff, and vocals that bounce up, down, and around, you’ll feel yourself spinning out into a Smallpools-induced musical vortex. Don’t worry, it’s as exciting and wild as it sounds.
I periodically look for DJ sets near me on live music listing sites like Oh My Rockness and EDM Train, but despite how famous she’s become in recent years, I didn’t stumble upon Maya Jane Coles’s show at the iconic Williamsburg club Output until I happened to be researching her online. In fact, female DJs were noticeably absent from last month’s show scan. Thankfully, while looking for Coles’s 2017 appearances, I found out she was playing on New Year’s Day. Not only that, but she was part of an all-female lineup also featuring Jade and Mightykat.
This show was unusual in another way: It began at 2 p.m., so attending it was one of the very first things I did in 2017. And it was a great way to start off the year. I entered around 4, during Jade’s set, which was full of steady techno beats interrupted by swaying synths and fading vocals. The highlights were the buildups, which culminated in recordings of a voice counting to four and a whistle, and her sampling of David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance.”
The packed club was full of blinking lights that switched from red and blue to pastel colors as the night went on. The crowd yelled as Coles took the stage, barely visible behind the mixer. The set took us on a deep house journey, making you feel like you were underwater and then in space. She sampled from her hit “What They Say” multiple times throughout the night, bringing it back to elicit cheers each time the energy started dying down. My expectations were high after hearing Coles’ recordings, and though her live mixes were mostly unfamiliar, she didn’t disappoint.
In many ways, EDM is one of the most male-dominated musical genres. But once you’re inside a dark club and entranced in the music and lights, the surface characteristics of the person spinning the beats are barely detectable, let alone relevant. In that way, EDM also holds the potential to be gender-blind — which makes me hopeful that club and festival lineups will continue to even out in 2017. As more people like Output’s New Years Day performers show off their talents, more people will see that the ability to make people fist-pump, shuffle, and shout knows no gender.
Gambino’s newest album held plenty of surprises from the rapper sound-wise, and this was one of the tracks that stuck out to me the most. It describes those around him as zombies – soul-sucking entities that only seem to care about one thing: money. No doubt this song was a result of the people that attempted to surround him on his rise to fame.
9. “Radio” – Sylvan Esso
“Radio” is a catchy tune that was picked as the first single off the band’s much anticipated sophomore album, describing the process some girls go through in order to make their way in the industry (“now don’t you look good sucking American dick”). The lyrics also go on to say that even when you do make it, all that comes out of it are “highway blues and gasoline fumes” – a fantasized life that’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
8. “I See Change” – Ny Oh
When I saw the Aussie native perform for the first time, she prefaced this song with the story of the first time she played it live – it was at the Grand Canyon for a crowd of strangers, and during her short performance she said some left and others gave her some choice comments. I found this a bit shocking as the lyrics reflect Ny Oh’s pain as she sees the beautiful world we call home become overrun with concrete, so to have people at a national park simply ignoring her message only seems a bit ironic, if not a perfect proof to her point.
7. “Fuck Donald Trump” – YG ft. G-Easy and Macklemore
I think the title speaks for itself.
6. “Drone Bomb Me” – ANOHNI
Anohni is better known by some as the lead singer of Antony and the Johnsons, but she did not hold back on her first solo album. The title of this song is pretty self-explanatory, a direct response to the incessant drone warfare and terrorism the world has been subject to these past few years. She commented that “it’s a love song from the perspective of a girl in Afghanistan, say a 9-year-old girl whose family’s been killed by a drone bomb. She is kind of looking up at the sky and she’s gotten herself to a place where she just wants to be killed by a drone bomb too.”
5. “Power Play” – HOLYCHILD
HOLYCHILD has been known for their brat pop infused with social commentary ever since they dropped their debut EP MINDSPEAK (an appropriate title to say the least). Before lead singer Liz Nistico had vocal surgery earlier this year, the duo released their latest EP America Oil Lamb, the name itself being a jab at what America has become. “Power Play” featuring RAC is a gritty synth filled track that delves into the world of wealth, mental health, self-worth, and the resulting fear of aging. Similar to an older track, “Nasty Girls”, Liz lists all the things she feels many people (including herself) get suckered into thinking are a necessary part of everyday life.
4. “iT” – Christine and the Queens
While it seems pretty clean cut that this song is about transsexualism, Héloïse (Christine) takes things a little deeper by saying, “I had symbolic desire with this song to take the place of a guy. Perhaps because I was not given what I wanted as a girl. But also by play. There is something of the infant omnipotence in this statement [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”][…]. The final sex change does not interest me.” Ultimately, this song discusses what it means to be a man and have power in society.
3. “#WHERESTHELOVE” – The Black Eyed Peas
The Black Eyed Peas came back this year with a spinoff of their 2003 hit “Where is the Love?” and a powerful music video to go with it. The song features collaborations with other pop superstars ranging from the likes of Justin Timberlake to Snoop Dogg and Mary J. Blige, or as the song credits, “the world”. The band also took this single to a new level, with a website to go along with it (www.wheresthelove.com) including a #DONTFORGET portion with links to pages to donate to different causes.
2. “16 Shots” – Vic Mensa
This pro-black anthem details the death of Laquan McDonald, the title being a reference to how many times officers shot him. Vic Mensa has been an avid supporter of the Black Lives Matter movement, and many of his songs off his new album touch on the subject in one way or another – he actually protested in Chicago alongside other advocates the day after McDonald’s shooting, and used a performance on REVOLT TV as a fundraiser for the Flint water crisis. As far as rappers go, I’ve found him to be one of the best at making a lasting impression, using news report commentary on many of his tracks to further instill the sense of injustice (see also “Go Tell ’Em”).
“Don’t Touch My Hair” – Solange
I would honestly consider A Seat at the Table one of the best albums of the year. Solange put so much into this record and managed to create a beautiful visual story of black empowerment. “Don’t Touch My Hair” speaks out against the constant problem black women face – the “compliment” question of asking to touch a black woman’s hair is, in fact, a racial microagression. In a white-dominated, patriarchal society, the question itself denies black women consent and respect of their own bodies in such a way that puts them on display as abnormal. Solange uses this track perfectly to define the limits she will allow her identity and beliefs to be compromised in order to satisfy those around her.
This past year (for me, anyway) was full of attending various anniversary shows of bands I obsessed over in high school. It was nostalgic and exciting to see the bands I used to listen to nonstop perform my old favorites, songs I still listen to somedays when I’m riding my bike or underground on the subway. I’m a sucker for music that I have memories attached to, so it only makes sense that I sought out so many of these shows.
Here’s a look back at some of the anniversary shows that really touched my soul in the past year, as well as some 2017 shows that I’ve got on my radar.
The Spill Canvas at Webster Hall, August 2015
Okay, I’m cheating here because this a 2015 show, but it was just so fun and full of happy good vibes. There’s a certain magic to reliving your emo days while watching one of your old favorites croon sweet, heartbreaking lyrics onstage. Also, you may notice a trend in this list involving Webster Hall and anniversary/reunion shows.
As Tall As Lions at Webster Hall, December 2015
Easily the best show I went to in the last year. This was a reunion show as well as an anniversary show for their self-titled album. And although this show wasn’t in 2016, it practically was. Plus, it was amazing enough to resonate for years to come. I unfortunately missed out on seeing As Tall As Lions when they were still together, but this show made up for that.
The Hush Sound at Webster Hall, August 2016
Another show that went down in my personal history book was The Hush Sound’s Like Vines anniversary show, mostly because The Hush Sound was my favorite band in high school. I probably saw them play seven or so times, and I pretty much idolized (slash kind of still idolize) Greta Salpeter. Bob and Greta had so much fun chemistry that night, and overall, it was just a fun experience to relive that band’s live show again.
Simple Plan & Hit the Lights at Irving Plaza, October 2016
One of my biggest show regrets in 2016 is that I missed this show. Since I wasn’t there, I can only speculate about its glory, but I imagine it was incredibly fun. Hit the Lights was another band I used to groove out to like crazy, and what’s not to love about Simple Plan’s goofy music?
Taking Back Sunday & The Starting Line at Starland Ballroom, December 2016
Taking Back Sunday has been touring for their latest album Tidal Wave this year (I saw them at Irving Plaza, and it was…okay), and I also saw The Starting Line at Irving for their 10-year anniversary show of Say It Like You Mean It (which was one of the best shows I’ve ever been to). I was supposed to go to this show, and at the last minute had to cancel my plan, which is heartbreaking. This is going to be a show for many to write home about.
Jimmy Eat World at Webster Hall, December 2016
So this isn’t so much an anniversary or reunion show, since they’re touring for their latest album Integrity Blues, but I was still a bit surprised to see a show from Jimmy Eat World. I guess this sort of counts as a reunion show since they’re coming together again to make music to tour since 2013’s Damage, right?
New Found Glory at Irving Plaza, April 2017
A peak of anniversary shows to come, perhaps? New Found Glory will be touring in 2017, and can’t you just perfectly envision singing “My Friends Over You” alongside their live performance in the coming year?
Dashboard Confessional at Irving Plaza, January 2017
So I have a [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”][dashboard] confession: While I definitely liked DC in high school, I can’t say that I was totally the biggest fan. I was definitely an emo girl, but sometimes Chris Carrabba took it a bit too far and sad for me. So while this show is definitely one to look forward to in many ways, I’m not totally sure if I’ll be in attendance, swooning alongside others.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]
Nearly half of EDM listeners are women, yet the mainstream EDM world is tragically male-dominated — which is especially inexcusable given all the female talent out there. If your EDM playlist is a sausage fest, consider adding these amazing women artists to it. And look out for their sets over the coming year, because they’re only getting bigger.
1. Anna Lunoe
Hailing from Australia, Lunoe has recently risen to fame around the world, opening for Daft Punk, The Chemical Brothers, and MIA and performing at Coachella and Lollapalooza. This summer, the DJ, singer, songwriter, and producer became the first female artist on the main stage at EDC Vegas. She’s also a host for the international Apple Music radio station Beats 1, curating two hours of dance music every week for the show HYPERHOUSE. “Stomper” featuring Chris Lake is a masterpiece that’ll take you on a journey through a thousand different worlds in three and a half minutes, and the funkier “I Met You” featuring Flume will put a beam on your face. She’s spending March touring Australia with Diplo.
2. Alison Wonderland
Also an Australian DJ featured in EDC Vegas, not to mention a cellist, Alison Wonderland makes music videos that’ll suck you down the Youtube rabbit hole. She collaborated with The Flaming Lips’ Wayne Coyne for her single “U Don’t Know,” whose dramatic video features Superbad’s Christopher Mintz-Plasse.Her video for the upbeat and highly danceable “I Want U” features nuns thrashing about and levitating. She’s got shows booked in Australia, the Bay Area, and Mexico for 2017.
3. Maya Jane Coles
If you’ve gone clubbing over the past five years, there’s no way you haven’t heard Coles’ house hit “What You Say.” In fact, you’ve probably heard it regardless, since it’s sampled in Nicki Minaj’s “Truffle Butter.” She experiments with a variety of styles on other tracks, like the slow, vocal-heavy “Never Walk Away” and “Burning Bright,” which is reminiscent of an old Madonna hit, and the haunting “Everything” shows off her vocal talent. The U.K.-based DJ and producer will be kicking off the New Year with a show in New York and then make her way to London and Manchester.
4. Jessica Audiffred
Mexican bass and trap artist Jessica Audiffred also hosts a radio show and owns a label. She’s played at EDC Mexico and LIC Mexico and regularly tours outside her home country. Her sets contain a ton of fun remixes along with original mixes like K.O., which combines an energetic beat with dark futuristic synths, and “No Invitation,” with jolting vocal samples and hip-hop influences. “You’re sharing that with the public, and just watching the reaction of every tune you have — you can control their feelings and their emotions,” she explained her love of DJing to us. “People want to get crazy. They just want a place where they can let their emotions go.” You can catch her at EDC Mexico in February, and she’ll soon be releasing an EP for CIRCUS records and a song with Ducky in Maincourse Records, which she tells us are “way more dubstep and a little more upbeat.”
The DJ, label founder, promoter, and radio host emerged from Lebanon and spends her time in London and Ibiza, where she’s been featured at the famous Space and other world-renowned clubs. Moudaber is recognizable for her groovy, beat-driven techno sets. DanceTrippin TV called her the “Queen of Techno.” She’s playing a New Year’s Eve set in Brooklyn then headed to Mexico come January.
This Berlin DJ, producer, and label founder is a breath of fresh air from the constantly remixed songs and clichéd techno beats heard at every festival. “Leave Me Alone” featuring Apparat sounds almost like an indie rock song, except you can’t not dance to it, and the 2015 single “High” features intense speaking vocals and a beautiful melodic hook. Allien has held a residency at Ibiza’s airport club DC10 and played at set at theCentre Pompidou museum in Paris. When she’s not entertaining crowds, she runs the radio show Braincandy on Ibiza Sonica Radio and designs clothes for her label. She’ll be all over Europe and Mexico in January and will be featured at the MELT! Festival in Germany.
TOKiMONSTA, AKA LA producer and DJ Jennifer Lee, was the first woman to sign with Flying Lotus’s label Brainfeeder and has captivated audiences at festivals including Coachella and Electric Zoo. “Smoke and Mirrors” uses drums and guitar layering in a totally new way for a reggae-like result, “Put It Down” feat. Anderson .Paak & KRNE geniusly blends electronic and hip hop, and “Raella” has R&B influences. You can catch her in New York, DC, LA, and other North American cities in February.
Over the past decade, Wants has gone from pro soccer player to British jackin house DJ. She’s also the owner of the brand What Hannah Wants, which sponsors an annual DJ contest. “Signs,” a deep house collaboration with Chris Lorenzo, has a contagiously climactic beat and gorgeous vocals. She’s been performing in Ibiza since 2010, spinning for Amnesia’s closing party last fall, and next year, she’ll be touring the UK and Ireland and appearing in France’s Snowboxx festival.
Sassy lyrics and retro disco-inspired beats characterize this French DJ/singer/songwriter’s albums. Her famous 1998 song, “Frank Sinatra” with The Hacker, is a sarcastic, synthy electroclash anthem with lines like “you know Frank Sinatra? He’s dead.” Her latest album, Calling From The Stars (2013), features an understated REM cover along with 80s-inspired tracks like “See You” and “eleven.”She’s got shows booked in Paris and Cologne next year.
Schneider has held a residency at the famous Watergate club in Berlin, where she currently resides, and runs the Dance Under the Blue Moon program on Fritz Radio. Along with DJing and producing, she’s the founder of Mobilee Records. Her latest release, “Rain,” starts off slowly, making you feel like you’re wading through fog on a dance floor, and picks up as it transitions to a soulful chorus. She’ll play at Switzerland’s Arosa Electronica Festival next year after touring the U.S. and U.K.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]
Ticket Giveaways
Each week Audiofemme gives away a set of tickets to our featured shows in NYC! Scroll down to enter for the following shindigs.
