are my two favorite writers of the evening. i've been wrapped up in mitchell's cloud atlas, and would have raced through it by now if i hadn't been so busy this week (*cough*gunbound*cough*). suffice it to say that there's a new development every time things get crazyintenseamazing, and the wait to see how it ends makes me want to eschew sleep forever till i finish the darn thing.
also, ross grady. trianglerock.com is one of my favorite local resources and i want to immortalize his words here (without permission, but credited to him, so i hope that's good enough for internet-etiquette), b/c saturday night (sorry about dresden, cold sides, the nein, audubon park @ 506) is going to be an amazing show with four amazing bands, and grady totally nailed it:
Indie-rock show of the week; four bands committed to the neverending project of taking the modern popsong structure and poking enormous holes in it with whatever implements come to hand. If you're only going to see one rockshow this year, then what the fuck is wrong with you?
If you've already seen a few dozen rockshows this year, then this is your baby, your best chance to walk away at 1:45 a.m., reeking, in love with rockmusic again.
Actually, you could walk away about 2 minutes after Audubon Park's opening set & already be in love. David Nahm's pop songwriting is peerless, and unlike too many other songwriters, he knows the best gift to the songs is an uneven layer of squirrelly, scrabbling noise smeared on top of them, guaranteeing they'll sound as fresh and new on the hundredth listen as on the first.
I've forgotten why I'm play-feuding with The Nein, particularly since they're actually four of the nicest guys I've met in the 12 years I've lived around here. Not that that's any reason to call off a good mock feud. Wankers.
Cold Sides have gone from conceptual two-man "quiet" four-track side-project, to Brooklyn-topping post-Gang-of-Four punk/funk/disco gods, to blitzed-out delay-pedal scree-loop-dub-ism, all in the space of a handful of years. It's fair to say that anytime they've come close to true mastery, they've preemptively moved on, and that's about the only impulse I can think of that's really worth rewarding.
Sorry About Dresden make the kind of two-guitar indie-rock that would make the young girls pee their pants if the young girls weren't all stoned out of their minds, lying on the floor watching their teen boyfriends play XBox & ignoring the Jay-Z on the stereo.
audubon park, i love you!
sincerely, your devoted fangirl alicia
No comments:
Post a Comment