Chicago’s Diagonal have released their newest record, Tomorrow, and it’s such a good shoegaze record that my wife said it might make her like shoegaze music (which she just doesn’t understand).
Starting with “Find the Sun” (and Chris Detlaff‘s wicked beats), the album shimmers right away. Three different guitarists (Alex Brumley, Dan Jarvis, and Silas Mishler) merge together to form some sort of super-robot, and Dale Price‘s bass chugs along with the precision of a bricklayer. Andy Ryan‘s vocals on the big, spaced out “Wide Eyed” are appropriately drenched in reverb, and the whole band unloads with walls of sound. It’s one of my favorite tracks of the year so far. It’s been in my head for days.
“Control” ups the psychedelic touches but keeps the fuzz. “Jump Back” reminds me of Julian Cope tunes from the late 1980’s with its groovy bass licks and the crisp, yet distorted guitar riffs. The guitars on “True” are crispier, but the bass picks up the fuzz. It sounds like a Cosmonauts track. “Descend” could be a Black Angels tune, especially with that slight hint of Middle Eastern influences and the subtle reverb on the vocals.
“All We Need” breaks open with shining riffs and more sick beats from Detlaff. Jarvis add some cool keyboard flourishes that give it a space-rock feel. Price’s love of the Cure comes through on his bass line for “Shattered Glass,” and I like how Ryan’s vocals on it sound like they’re coming at you from the end of a long hallway. “Stay Awake” has a fun groove to it with more than a subtle hint of surf rock. The fuzz on “Feels” hits a bit harder after the mellowness of the previous track. It’s one of the loudest cuts on the record. The title track closes the record, and it’s a wild trip into the cosmos with dual vocals from Ryan and Misher that are barely discernible, bass so fuzzy it resembles an angry bumble bee, enough guitar distortion to power an eighteen-wheeler, and drums that go for broke and beyond.
Don’t wait until tomorrow to get Tomorrow. It’s one of the best shoegaze records I’ve heard in 2018.
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.
Melkbelly
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.
Lucy Dacus
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.
Natural Information Society
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.
Tierra Whack (left) and her DJ
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.
Mount KimbieAs close as we could get to Tame Impala
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.
Zola Jesus
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.
Moses Sumney
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.
Raphael Sadie
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.
This Is Not This Heat
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.
Kelly Lee Owens
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.”
Japanese Breakfast
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.
DRAM
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.”
Chaka Khan
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.”
Lauryn Hill
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.
Diana Krall‘s performance at the Saenger Theatre in New Orleans had a “no cellphones / cameras” policy, which was refreshing. I resisted the urge to take any photos during the show, although others did and some even used the flash on their phone cameras to do so. Using your camera flash at a show is the new smoking at a show.
Ms. Krall and her slick backing band (upright bass, guitar, fiddle, drums) played a fun mix of love songs and jazz classics that included many cuts from her latest album Turn Up the Quiet. She had fun banter with the crowd, even admitting to screwing up a Fats Waller tune that was harder to play than she realized. She delighted the crowd with a soft instrumental version of “Walkin’ to New Orleans.” They played for close to ninety minutes and the crowd was buzzing afterwards as we stepped out into the warm night.
She’s a jazz powerhouse and still on tour throughout the U.S. Don’t miss her if you get the chance to see her.
If you’re like me and eager to hear Ladytron‘s upcoming album and catch them on tour for it, their 2009 release of Live at London Astoria 16.07.08 is a great morsel to tide you over until the new record’s release and subsequent tour. The show was a rescheduled gig for one that had to be cancelled a couple months earlier due to a power outage. The band’s urge to make amends with fans can be felt throughout the power of the entire set.
The live album starts off with a robotic version of “Black Cat” with lead vocals in Russian. “Runaway” follows, bringing dark wave-like bass and great echoed vocals. The guitars and droning synths on “High Rise” might induce vertigo if you’re not careful while listening to it. “Ghosts” has some of my favorite Ladytron lyrics, “There’s a ghost in me who wants to say, ‘I’m sorry doesn’t mean I’m sorry.'” It’s a spooky song about relationships, quite possibly involving at least one lover who is dead.
“Seventeen” is one of my favorite Ladytron cuts, and it’s one of the most damning songs about the fashion industry ever (“They only want you when you’re seventeen. When you’re twenty-one, you’re no fun.”). The live version is thumping with synth bass. “I’m Not Scared” hits hard with bright synths blending with rock drums. “True Mathematics,” with more great Russian vocals, hits even harder. I hope they play it on their next tour, because it’s outstanding. “Season of Illusions” is a bit lighthearted, but don’t worry because “Soft Power” drops you right back into the dark with synths that sound like they’re being played in a tomb. “Playgirl” was a big hit for the London crowd, judging from their reaction when Ladytron announces it’s the next track.
“International Dateline” is practically a goth love song, and “Predict the Day” surprises you by starting with whistling and then unloading sticky synth bass and sexy beats. “Fighting in Built Up Areas” is another Russian vocal treat, and “Discotraxx” would do Giorgio Moroder proud with its slick electro dance beats. They dedicate “The Last One Standing” to everyone who was at the show that was cancelled months earlier.
They chose “Kletva,” “Burning Up,” and “Destroy Everything You Touch” for their encore. It’s a nice end to a fun show. They originally just release 100 copies of it at the show, so I’m glad they put it out for wide release. You should be, too.
Keep your mind open.
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Full of wonderful fuzz and lovely vocals, the Duke Spirit‘s Bruiser begins with the rock solid “Cherry Tree,” a song about regret following a break-up. All the guitars on it surge with power as lead singer Liela Moss claims she doesn’t look back on the past with hope, but we all know otherwise. “Procession” flips the story a bit, with the former subject of Moss’ affections acting like he’s cool with everything, but her knowing that he’s on the verge of cracking at any moment. “Villain” has lovely piano and vocals by Moss while Oliver Betts puts down beats that are harder than you realize at first. The song’s about two people who know they’re probably bad for each other, but will most likely hook up regardless of that fact.
In case you haven’t guessed by now, the name of the album hints to the many songs on the record about the dangerous side of love, lust, and attraction. “Don’t Wait,” about the struggle to let go of someone after they’ve left (“Oh such a heavy love rolls out like a blanket. Why must it fold up on me?”) has that great mix of rock, shoegaze, and soul that the Duke Spirit do so well. Marc Sallis struts his bass stuff on “Surrender,” in which Moss sings that she just wants to surrender to a lover. Moss’ voice is already seductive enough, but it’s borderline devilish when she sings lyrics like “Oh the weather got worse , so you’ll have to stay here.”
“Bodies” has another slick Sallis groove that paves the way for shoegaze riffs from Luke Ford and Toby Butler. There’s a short piano breakdown in the middle that catches you off-guard before Betts and the rest wallop you upside the head. “Delux” has organ and glockenspiel that ticks like a music box and warnings from Moss to a lover to keep his eyes and hands on her instead of someone else.
“Sweet Bitter Sweet” seems to be about sex with lyrics like “I’m coming with you, for there’s nobody else,” but you can never be sure with Moss’ writing. She can be deceptive and her use of metaphor is top-notch. It’s sexy even if it isn’t about sex. I’d be a gibbering idiot if she sang this to me in a smoky bar. Well, I’d be a gibbering idiot if she just walked into a room with me, but that’s beside the point. In “Running Fire,” Moss tells a lover that he can chase a future he can never fully grasp or he can return to the moment (and her) and be much happier. Ford and Butler shred on “Everybody’s Under Your Spell” (which has a great burn-out / fade-out at the end.
“Northbound” has some of Betts’ best beats on the record while Moss sings about a bad day becoming a better day as she realizes she’s going to end it by seeing her lover. “Homecoming” has a similar theme, but Moss can’t help but wonder if her happiness is an illusion.
Love can be bruising, but bruises and scars are sometimes the remains of a hard-fought but worthy battle. Bruiser and the Duke Spirit show us that love is worth it. Love is the thing for which we should all fight. What else is there?
By the way, certain versions of this album have bonus remixes of “Procession” (by Gary Numan, no less), “Cherry Tree” (by SONOIO), “Bodies” (by Black Onassis), and “Don’t Wait” (by Loose Meat).
Seeing the Eaglesfor the first time was a night of many firsts. It was my first time not only seeing the classic rock band, but also my first time seeing a live music show in New Orleans (a city known for live music), my first time seeing Vince Gill (who is playing with the Eagles on this tour as a supporting guitarist and vocalist), and my first time seeing a show in a stadium suite.
This was a long-awaited dream come true for my wife, who is a big fan of the Eagles. Unfortunately, she never got to see them with Glenn Frey, but his son, Deacon Frey, is playing his father’s guitar parts and singing his father’s lyrics quite well.
The suite had the nice view of the stage as seen above, but we quickly learned that ordering from the “suite menu” isn’t sweet for your wallet, as shown in the example below.
That bowl of chips and dip costs $32.00 at the Smoothie King Center suites.
Luckily, there were a large number of us in the suite and people with better paying jobs than I who could afford such things (not to mention booze), and the Eagles soon made us forget about overpriced snacks.
Opening with “Seven Bridges Road” (which made my wife nearly leap out of her chair in joy), they played a night of greatest hits that tore through (among many others) “Take It Easy” (with Deacon Frey on lead vocal), “One of These Nights,” “Take It to the Limit,” “Tequila Sunrise,” and “Witchy Woman” before Joe Walsh took front and center with “In the City.”
I was happy to hear bassist Timothy Schmit sing “I Can’t Tell You Why” (one of the Eagles’ most underrated hits, if you ask me) and Vince Gill did a great lead vocal on “New Kid in Town.” I didn’t know until the crowd went nuts for him and Don Henley reminded all of us non-locals that Gill is a New Orleans native. As a result, his vocals on their cover of Fats Domino‘s “Walkin’ to New Orleans” were a big hit. Another surprise cover was of Tom Waits‘ “Ol’ ’55.”
My favorite Eagles songs are the rockers with blues influences, and “Those Shoes” is at the top of the list. I was happy to hear an almost sludgy version of it with Don Henley having fun with the vocals.
They did two encores. The first, of course, was “Hotel California,” which had a neat trumpet intro. The second included Joe Walsh’s “Rocky Mountain Way” and “Desperado.” In case you didn’t know, Walsh still shreds. He hadn’t lost a thing since we’d seen him open for Tom Petty in St. Louis.
It was a fun night. They didn’t disappoint. My wife said it was the best concert she’d ever attended. That alone made it worth the trip.
Keep your mind open.
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Recorded sometime between 1965 and 1967 and originally released in 1971, Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band‘s Mirror Man album was a bit of a hot mess when it was released. It was compiled of four tracks taken from a recording session that was supposed to be for a double album called It Comes to You in a Plain Brown Wrapper that was never finished or released due to them being dropped by their label (Buddha Records). According to John Platt’s liner notes for this 1999 re-release, “In 1971 someone at Buddha reviewed all the extant tapes, and a decision was made to issue a single album’s worth of material under the title Mirror Man. What they chose were the three live-studio cuts plus ‘Kandy Korn.'” The Mirror Man Sessions includes those four tracks as well as five more previously unissued cuts by the good Captain and his lads. The four original tracks were also placed in an alternate order than the original album “for aesthetic reasons” that Buddha Records claims “for the time being at least…is as close as we can reasonably get to the Captain’s original intentions.”
The four original tracks are (in this album’s order) “Tarotplane,” “25th Century Quaker,” “Mirror Man,” and “Kandy Korn.” I’m not sure anything I can write would do justice to “Tarotplane.” It’s a nearly twenty-minute psychedelic freak-out masterpiece with the Captain’s harmonica, shinei, and vocals sounding like a warped, scratched 78rpm record you found in the back of an old blues honkytonk. “25th Century Quaker” is so freaky that its beats from John French sound like a bag of oranges rolling down the stairs.
“Mirror Man” starts out with some of Captain Beefheart’s signature grungy harmonica work before Jeff Cotton and Alex St. Clair Snouffer‘s guitars let loose with warped chords that sound like they’ve been left out in the sun all day. The Captain’s vocals are either distant and funky or sound like they’re coming through a damaged megaphone. “Kandy Korn” is, on its face at least, about the waxy, sugary Halloween snack (“They look so good, I wanna eat ’em.”). I’m willing to bet it’s about something else, but I’ll let you make the call. It melts like candy on the roof of a VW van, and it practically sends you into a trance around the three-minute mark.
“Trust Us (Take 6)” has the Captain encouraging all of us to trust not only him and the Magic Band, but also people outside our comfort zones. The rhythm of it is more urgent than you realize at first. It becomes a toe-tapper and lingers a bit in jam band land. It also has a neat fake fade out and fade in that I’m sure has fooled many DJs in its time. It gets more warped the longer it goes. “Safe As Milk (Take 12)” is one of the Magic Band’s biggest hits. It has a cool, weird groove to it that’s hard to describe and the right amount of fuzz without being overwhelming. The Captain’s vocals are playful and you can tell that his singing style influenced everyone from Tom Waits to Mike Patton and Les Claypool.
“Beatle Bones N’ Smokin’ Stones” is an obvious poke at the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. The Captain has fun with “Strawberry Fields Forever” lyrics (reverbed and stuttering) and Keith Richards’ blues riffs (turning them into almost calliope music). “Moody Liz (Take 8)” has near-country guitar licks that transform into psychedelic oddities. The lyrics are barely recognizable, but that’s okay because the track is more a showcase for Cotton and Snouffer’s bizarre yet fascinating guitar work. The album ends with “Gimme Dat Harp Boy,” and the Captain getting to strut his stuff on harmonica while the Magic Band drives the funk bus.
This might not be the best place to start your Captain Beefheart musical journey, but it’s essential listening if you’re a fan of his work and psychedelic blues.
Blending members from Chicago, NYC, Texas, and Scandinavia, the Young Mothers have created Morose – a wild mix of hip-hop, jazz, and house music that hasn’t been heard since the likes of Digable Planets and Jurassic 5.
Starting with “Attica Black,” the sweet drum groove by Frank Rosaly leads into a sharp rap and downright fierce trumpet jam by Jawaad Taylor and wild saxophone by Jason Jackson that sounds like something off a rare Captain Beefheart record. Jackson’s sax is soulful and then sad and then angry on “Black Tar Caviar.” The track turns into a funky, crazy one in the second half, sounding not unlike a Faith No More tune. Jackson’s sax bubbles alongside Jonathan Horne‘s guitar and Stefan Gonzalez‘s vibraphone on the instrumental “Bodiless Arms.”
Chaos reigns on “Untitled #1,” which sounds like a drunk jazz band in a car wreck with a truck hauling a bunch of Theremins. I mean this in the best possible way. I actually wish it lasted longer, but “Jazz Oppression” is a fun follow-up and is probably one of the few songs that can induce a mosh pit at a jazz show. The title track is something as dirty and funky as a Jon Spencer Blues Explosion record, and Gonzalez’s vibraphone work on it is outstanding.
“Osaka” is another bizarre instrumental, but it’s tame when compared to “Untitled #2.” Remember that drunk jazz band in the car crash? Well now they’re fighting an army of killer robots. Again, I mean this in the best of compliments. “Shanghai” gets back to the band’s love of rap, but still drenches it in distortion, reverb, and sonic oddities.
It’s hard to describe Morose. The album’s title is also a bit of a mystery. The psychedelic jazz freak-outs on it are anything but morose. It’s an album that will get your blood pumping and freak you out a bit. It’s dangerous, and we always need dangerous music.
BODEGA‘s Endless Scroll is probably my favorite post-punk record of 2018 so far. Consisting of Nikki Belfiglio (vocals), Heather Elle (bass), Ben Hozie (guitar and vocals), Montana Simone (drums), and Madison Velding-Vandam (guitar), the quintet offering a sharp commentary on hipsters, the digital age, sex, masculinity, femininity, and politics.
No track better sums up their thoughts on the world of 2018 than the opener – “How Did This Happen!?” Aren’t we all asking that every day here in the U.S.? “It’s the world now, don’t discriminate. Everyone is equally a master and a slave,” Hozie sings. Preach it, brother. He name checks failing bookstores, people curating their playlists more than their relationships, and people angry for no damn reason. “Bodega Birth” shows off more of Elle’s slick bass lines as Hozie and Belfiglio sing about how the internet, which should be the greatest educational tool of all time, is now a colossally boring shopping mall.
Elle’s bass takes the lead on “Name Escape” as Hozie sings about how he can’t remember names of people he sees all the time, even though he can notice things like someone wearing different pants than the last time he saw him. Also, he doesn’t often care (“Have I heard the latest something ’bout so-and-so? / No, I have not, my son. Now I don’t want to know.”). Again, preach it, brother. “Boxes for the Move” is a story of heartbreak following a break-up as Hozie leaves his lover’s place with “fifteen soggy boxes” of stuff and wishing he had the booze that used to be in the boxes he got from the liquor store. “I Am Not a Cinephile” is a collective middle finger to movie snobs and other ultra-hipsters.
Hozie and Velding-Vandam’s squeaky guitars on “Can’t Knock the Hustle” sound like alarm klaxons or steel being hammered by a blacksmith. Belfiglio invites us all to love ourselves (if you get the drift) on “Gyrate” – even if you want to do it “in the middle of a party, in the middle of the floor.” “Jack in Titanic” is Hozie’s commentary about modern expectations of masculinity. It’s wonderfully catchy, and is currently tearing up airwaves in England. I’ve heard it on BBC 6 Music every time I listened to the station for the last three weeks. “Margot” is a tale of internet lust (ending with a computerized voice saying, “I touch myself while staring at your chat text box.”).
Elle and Simone are in perfect synch on “Bookmarks” while Hozie and Belfiglio sing about how easy it is to get distracted from work when the endless internet is in front of you. “Warhol” has the band proclaiming “Form against everything” and making fun of people thinking their fifteen minutes of fame is still in effect. “Charlie” is their latest single and a touching tribute to a friend of Hozie’s who drowned on New Year’s Eve 2007. “Williamsburg Bridge” sounds like a Velvet Underground track with Elle’s bass groove, Simone’s tribal drumming, and Hozie and Velding-Vandam’s guitars squawk in the background. “Truth Is Not Punishment” has Hozie singing about worrying about his mother and trying to convince a friend that honesty is the best policy (even when he’s not sure he believes that). The guitars in it build to near-manic levels, reflecting Hozie’s angst.
This is one of the best and catchiest albums of 2018 so far. I’m glad that post-punk is having a great revival, and bands like BODEGA are leading the charge.
“Intense,” “hot,” and “fucked up” were all phrases I heard used to describe the sold-out King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizardshow in Chicago on June 10th. Fans were lined up down the block in hopes to get early access to the Riviera Theatre’s general admission area for the best spots to watch the show or be in the mosh pit.
It was a cool yet humid afternoon and evening. Fog was high and thick in the city. You couldn’t see the tops of most buildings. It was a bit of a surreal image perfect for a psychedelic rock show. I felt bad for a group of four guys who were asking one of the bouncers for any unclaimed tickets. They’d driven all the way from Ohio and didn’t know the show was sold out until they arrived.
Unfortunately, I missed Amyl and the Sniffers, as my friend attending with the show with me had a late appointment, but we got in after she went through a near TSA-level search at the door. We immediately noticed the heat in the place. A lot of bodies were in there, and the humidity crept in from the streets and into the theatre. Security was already hauling a sweat-soaked woman who could barely walk out of the stage area as we walked down the foyer.
The mosh pit started quick. I didn’t get into this one. There were so many people there that moving from our spot (between the downstairs bar and the sound booth) to the main floor and pit was nearly impossible. My friend told me that a lot of the people already looked dehydrated and / or drunk and / or high, and she then remembered that the Spring Awakening electronic music festival had been happening in the city all weekend. Many had decided to wrap up their weekend with Australian psychedelia after going crazy with dubstep and trance for three days.
King Gizzard ripped through “Lord of Lightning” and got a big reaction for “Rattlesnake”. One of the high spots of the night for me was hearing a slightly aggressive version of “Sleep Drifter.” It had an edge to it that you won’t hear on Flying Microtonal Banana.
“Rattlesnake” gets everyone jumping.
The three tracks from Nonagon Infinity got a great response from the crowd, of course. My friend was describing the show as “intense” by now. She went to the restroom at one point and came back to tell me, “The real show’s out there (in the foyer). Some girl is fucked up out there and they’re dragging her and other people outside.” I made a break for the restroom at one point and discovered the humidity had turned the foyer floor and stairs down to the restroom into a Slip and Slide. I made it there and back without falling, but I’m not sure others were so lucky.
Nonagon infinity opens the door.
I was happy to see the four Ohio guys walk by me with drinks in their hands. I clapped one on the shoulder and told him I was happy they made it into the show. The whole crowd was buzzing, both naturally and through chemical means. My friend was a bit freaked out by part of King Gizzard‘s projections that included a cartoon crocodile flying a biplane. King Gizzard shows are always wild, and this one was no exception.
Chicago’s Diagonal have released their newest record, Tomorrow, and it’s such a good shoegaze record that my wife said it might make her like shoegaze music (which she just doesn’t understand).
