Rock goddesses Deap Vally are playing a bunch of west coast tour dates this fall. Don’t miss them. Don’t miss them ever. They embarrass anyone who has to play after them, or before them, or any other time really.
Keep your mind open.
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Protomartyr Announce Fall Co-Headline Tour With Preoccupations
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“The debut from Auckland indie rockers is just really impressive—hook-filled songs filled with energy and attitude, written with depth and played masterfully.” – Pitchfork
“A wonderful little record that never lets up, piling on unassumingly buzzy fun until you start realizing you might be in the presence of a true power-pop monument.” – Rolling Stone
“The New Zealand band has two gears: The first is a more classically pop-oriented retro sound, like a ’60s girl group doing the shimmy-shimmy-cocoa-pop but with guitars and a shoegaze influence. The second is a caffeinated ’90s alterna-rock head rush, with Superchunk-level riffs and Velocity Girl vocals courtesy of singer-guitarist Elizabeth Stokes.” – The A.V. Club
“Few bands make angst sound as joyous as the Beths do on their debut LP. As its title suggests, the album is full of songs of both regret and self-doubt, but the group deliver them with some of the strongest power-pop this side of Weezer’s Blue Album.” – Bandcamp Daily
[Future Me Hates Me artwork]
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Radiohead front man Thom Yorke has announced a bunch of U.S. tour dates this fall to promote and play his solo material. Joining him will be producer (and frequent Radiohead collaborator) Nigel Godrich and visual artist Tarik Barri. Oliver Coates, a London-based cellist, will be the opening act.
The dates are as follows:
November 2018
23rd Electric Factory – Philadelphia, PA
24th Wang Theatre-Boch Center – Boston, MA
26th Kings Theatre – Brooklyn, NY
27th Kings Theatre – Brooklyn, NY
30th John F Kennedy Center For The Performing Arts Concert Hall – Washington, DC
December 2018
1st Keybank State Theatre – Cleveland, OH
2nd Masonic Temple Cathedral Theatre – Detroit, MI
4th Chicago Theatre – Chicago, IL
5th Riverside Theater – Milwaukee, WI
6th Northrop at the University of Minnesota – Minneapolis, MN
8th Stifel Theatre – St. Louis, MO
9th Arvest Bank Theatre at The Midland – Kansas City, MO
11th Paramount Theatre – Denver, CO
13th The Union – Salt Lake City, UT
15th Bill Graham Civic Auditorium – San Francisco, CA
17th The Observatory, North Park – San Diego, CA
19th Orpheum Theatre – Los Angeles, CA
20th Orpheum Theatre – Los Angeles, CA
22nd The Chelsea at The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas – Las Vegas, NV
Tickets will surely sell out for most, if not all, of these shows. Don’t wait too long to score some.
Keep your mind open.
It was a grey night. Rain had been falling. My wife was on the phone with her boss and trying to sort out work drama that had been bothering both of them for a week. She and the whole Ft. Wayne area, it seemed, needed a boost of love and fun. They got it from the Flaming Lips and Le Bucherettes at Ft. Wayne’s Clyde Theatre on August 16th.
My wife had never been to a Flaming Lips show. All I told her was that it would be wild and there would be balloons and confetti. I didn’t want to spoil anything for her.
We walked in just at the start of Le Bucherettes’ set. I’d heard of them somewhere before and made a note to check out their stuff, and this was my first full exposure to their work. It was a wild mix of psychedelia and art punk fronted by a wild Latina (Le Bucherettes hail from Mexico) who seemed to be the child of Iggy Pop and Poly Styrene after they’d had sex in an Aztec temple. They threw down a wild set that even had Wayne Coyne from the Flaming Lips crouching at stage right to take photos of them. My wife and I thought they needed to play next year’s Levitation Music Festival in Austin. They’d fit in perfectly there, and we picked up their last album at the merch table not long after their set.
The beginning of the Flaming Lips’ set began with their cover of “Also Sprach Zarathustra” and then “Race for the Prize” off The Soft Bulletin, which included the following (of course):
My wife was already grinning by this point, and the grin never left her face the entire night. She laughed in disbelief at the giant inflatable robot that stood at center stage over Wayne Coyne during “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots” – which Coyne described as a song not just about a young, female Japanese karate master fighting evil robots, but more about “Your friend who tells you they’re going to do something impossible, but they don’t know it’s impossible, and instead of you telling them it’s impossible, you tell them…Yoshimi you won’t let those robots defeat me.”
“Fight Test” is always a welcome addition to their sets, and the “Golden Throat” microphone version of the national anthem was a weird treat. This show was the first time I heard “The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song” as well as “The Castle,” which Wayne Coyne described as a sad song, but it doesn’t feel overwhelmingly sad when he sings it. It still sounds hopeful to me.
Coyne then put on rainbow wings and jumped on a light-up unicorn that was pulled through the audience while he sang “There Should Be Unicorns,” which took on a near deep-house beat and feel live. It’s cool on Oczy Mlody, but it’s better live.
They busted out “She Don’t Use Jelly,” which was well-received by the crowd (and was one I’d hoped they’d play), and “The Captain” after that. There was a small temporary stage in the middle of the crowd, and I figured it was for when Coyne stepped into a giant plastic sphere and crowd surfed to it during their cover of “Space Oddity.” I’d seen him do it at the inaugural Middle Waves Music Festival two years earlier. I was right, and my wife, a big Bowie fan, nearly cried when she realized what song was coming.
They wrapped up the set with “How??”, “Are You a Hypnotist?”, “The W.A.N.D.”, and “A Spoonful Weighs a Ton” before coming back for “Do You Realize?”
“That made me happy,” my wife said afterwards. “I needed that.”
We all did. Thanks, Flaming Lips.
Keep your mind open.
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Shopping To Return Stateside For Fall North American Tour
In Support Of The Official Body, Out Now On FatCat Records
Playing Hopscotch, OctFest, Basilica Soundscape, And More
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The second of two sold-out shows for My Bloody Valentine at Chicago’s Riviera Theatre was added when the first sold out in minutes. I was surprised the second didn’t sell out as fast, but happy that I got a ticket to what I was sure was going to be a face-melting experience.
Opening up for MBV were Martha’s Vineyard Ferries – a sort of shoegaze / garage punk band with bits of doom flavor sprinkled in now and then. I expected something a bit more psychedelic with a name like that, but they were “honored” to be opening for My Bloody Valentine and their enthusiasm came through in their set.
The stacks of amplifiers for MBV were tall and numerous. A woman behind me said her friend had come to the first show and told her, “It was louder than Dinosaur, Jr.” Her friend was right. It was louder than them and probably five more bands combined.
Opening with “I Only Said,” the four of them powered through with walls of distortion and reverb. Vocals were barely audible at times, and usually incomprehensible. You don’t go to a MBV show to hear crisp vocals, however, not even on the two new songs they played. You go to experience the raw energy that comes at you like a pounding surf on a rocky beach.
Of course “Only Shallow” was a big crowd favorite (and as heavy-hitting as you imagine), but “What You Want,” “Nothing Much to See,” and, naturally, “Soon” were big wallops to your chest, too. A friend of mine held my hands in hers after “Who Sees You,” and we noticed our hands were trembling. She patted her chest and said, “Wow! Intense!”
“My ears are hurting!” was the cry of a guy to my left after they finished “Wonder 2.” I saw a lot of people without earplugs. I pitied them. Many of us were in near-meditative states by the time they got to “Feed Me with Your Kiss” and the audio avalanche that closed the show – “You Make Me Realize.” The bridge in that was a couple minutes of cymbals and guitar noise that almost reached the point of punishment before breaking back into the power chords. It left us all dumfounded.
As we were walking out, a woman behind me told her boyfriend he should’ve put in his earplugs for the finale. He said, “I could feel my chest vibrating. I thought, ‘Am I having a heart attack? Is this how it ends?'”
“Not a bad way to go,” I said.
“That’s true,” he said.
True, indeed. A My Bloody Valentine show isn’t for everyone, but it is something everyone should experience.
Keep your mind open.
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The lineup for this year’s Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago’s Union Park didn’t thrill me. Plus, the forecast for the weekend called for rain nearly the entire time my wife and I would be there. Still, the tickets were free (Thanks, Nivas of WSND!) and there were some acts I definitely wanted to see, so we made the trip.
We got there just in time on day one for rain and Melkbelly. The Chicago punks were the second band to play and they unloaded a loud set of fierce shredding. The rain also stopped while they were playing, so I took it as a good omen.
Up next was Lucy Dacus, who played a nice set as the humidity rose from the sun emerging from the clouds. She talked about her fear of being electrocuted and how she was rearranging some of the set list to avoid too much playing guitar near standing water, but she did fine and was lovely to hear.
Natural Information Society‘s psychedelic jazz set was just two songs and it lasted nearly forty minutes. It was hypnotic, peaceful, and perfect for a warm and wet afternoon.
One of the weirdest parts of the day was Tierra Whack‘s twenty-minute set. She replaced Earl Sweatshirt who had cancelled. Whack’s DJ played parts of hip hop songs to warm up the crowd. It didn’t work all that well, mostly because he didn’t play whole tracks and he kept yelling variations of “Hey, Chicago!” over and over to the point where it became pandering. Whack came out and performed her entire debut EP, Whack World, which is only about fifteen minutes long, and then left. “That was weird,” my wife said. Yep.
Electro-pop outfit Mount Kimbie played a nice set on the far side of the park, and it was a nice warm-up to Tame Impala‘s closing set, which suffered from bad volume mixing. “It sounds like AM radio,” said one woman behind me. Her friend added, “Nothing like listening to Tame Impala through a tin can. Thanks, Pitchfork!” The crowd was yelling, “Turn it up!” at one point. We left before chaos reigned.
Day two brought less rain and we started the day with a great set from Zola Jesus. She came out in a red veil and looked like a witch from a Dario Argento movie. She seemed to have a great time. “She could sing anything with that voice,” my wife said. She’s right.
Our friend, Nivas, told me to check out Moses Sumney‘s set. Mr. Sumney wasn’t on our radar, but we’re glad we took Nivas up on the suggestion. His set was a good mix of soul, gospel, R&B, and jazz.
Another soulful highlight was Raphael Saddiq, who is a dead ringer for Lightnin’ Hopkins. Sadie played a fun set of bluesy R&B that had a lot of folks dancing.
I got all hipster by dragging my wife to see prog-rock legends This Is Not This Heat. It was a loud, dark prog-rock show with songs about nuclear warfare, consumerism, and painful lessons of history. It was neat to see some legends. I even scored a couple autographs.
We left early again in order to get a decent meal and came back on day three just in time to see Kelly Lee Owens. Her self-titled debut was my favorite album of last year, so she was the main artist I wanted to see at the festival. She didn’t disappoint. She put on a great electro-dance set that had everyone bouncing. It was a crime that she only got to play for 40 minutes.
Japanese Breakfast played after her, and they were quite popular with the crowd. Their stuff is a mix of shoegaze, dream pop, and straight-up rock. A big favorite among the crowd was their cover of the Cranberries’ “Dreams.”
We wandered over to the main stages to claim a spot for the two closing acts and ended up hearing all of DRAM‘s set. He had excited to be playing for such a large crowd and on such a beautiful day. He wasn’t bad, but after the fifth time he yelled, “If you love your momma, say ‘Yeah, dawg!” it became repetitive.
People were fired up for Chaka Khan, who looks and sounds great. The line dance that broke out near us during “I Feel for You” was a treat, and the whole crowd, men and women alike, was jumping during “I’m Every Woman.”
Lauryn Hill closed the festival. There was talk that she wouldn’t show up, despite being there for a sound check at the beginning of the day. She came on stage twenty minutes late, which I’m sure drove the stage manager nuts, but she showed that her chops haven’t diminished in the last twenty years. She played the entire “Miseducation” album and had a sharp backing band. They had to be ever-vigilant because she was constantly stopping some of them or having them alter their volume and tempo on the fly. She also seemed to have endless problems with her microphone and monitor, judging by how often she tapped the mic and her earpiece. Still, she sounded great. “It wasn’t as epic as I thought it would be,” my wife said, “but I’m glad I got to see her live.”
That pretty much sums up Pitchfork for me this year. It wasn’t as epic as last year, but I’m glad I went. Let’s hope the 2019 lineup is better.
Keep your mind open.
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