CMJ » Luis Paez-Pumar

Paramore @ Hammerstein Ballroom: May 16, 2013

Luis Paez-Pumar — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:45:45 +0000

About three-quarters of the way through their first set in New York since 2011, Paramore brought things back to the start. Lead singer Hayley Williams relayed to the sold out Hammerstein Ballroom a story about the early days of the band, when the then teenage group played in empty rooms to crowds who couldn’t care less. This led into a rendition of All We Know Is Falling cut “Whoa”, which is about as simple as the title would suggest. Rather than a celebration of the past, the song was more of an awestruck ode to how far they’ve come. “This is such a simple song, and we thought we were geniuses when we wrote it,” said Williams, stifling a laugh because, for their brand of intelligent pop-punk, they may as well be labeled geniuses now. The occasion behind the show was the tour behind their latest and greatest (by some margin) album, the self-titled Paramore.

“This new album…it’s our favorite thing that we’ve ever done.” That statement can read as a sales pitch, a “thanks for being here, so give us more money” pitch, in the hands of a lesser band. Yet when Williams says it, you take it as you do the band’s music: earnestly and graciously. There’s no irony in Paramore’s catalog; after all, the band’s third song on the night is named “For a Pessimist, I’m Pretty Optimistic”, less a wink and more of a mission statement. Believe or not, Paramore used to lean more towards the front half of that title, a severe band camouflaged by charisma and sheer force of personality. Now, after a tumultuous lineup change that caused two of the founding members to leave on not-so-great terms, it’s becoming obvious that optimism wins; the princess of spades has grown into a queen of hearts.

The old songs still gathered in some of that previous angst, but its now channeled through rose-colored shades; band unity manifesto “Looking Up” reads a bit condescending on record, but now that they really didn’t hang up, it sounds more like an exhale than teeth grating. Same goes for “Ignorance”, which may or may not be about departed Farro brother Josh, and sounded as hard as anything the band has ever done. Well, except maybe for the live outro to “Let The Flames Begin”, which continues to be a crowd-pleasing burst of passion, at God or each other or whatever you want to believe in.

The two most famous Paramore songs brought very different yet almost equally pleasurable moods to the venue: “Misery Business” led things off (after a short ukulele intro from the new album), immediately jacking things up to 11, while “The Only Exception” might as well have been the crowd’s open letter to each other (don’t think too hard about the fact that it’s about the dude who wrote “My Friends Over You”), all sways and hugs and some tears. It was a weird dissonance, hearing songs that were created under non-ideal circumstances, but via both the new energy and Williams’s traditional charisma, they were used not as nostalgic looks back, but rather as present adoration for what they’ve created.

It was therefore not surprising that the most joyful parts of the set were those that pulled from Paramore, such as the Yeah Yeah Yeahs-aping “Now” (hearing that “na-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ow” chorus live is something that needs to be experienced at least once), or the pop-punk power trip “Anklebiters”, which on this night featured gang backup vocals in the form of Hayley-chosen audience members. Pre-encore set ender and current single “Still Into You” featured hand claps, that sticky guitar riff, and streamers blasted into the audience. However, it was current song of the year candidate “Ain’t It Fun” that shone as the best of the bunch here, as its Jackson 5-inspired groove brought a nice bit of dance to a night of generally rocking numbers. Bonus points for how much, well, fun the band seems to have when they play these new songs, with Williams running around in a sugar rush, while guitarist/other-songwriter Taylor York and bassist Jeremy Davies bounced off each other, both metaphorically and literally. This is a band that almost broke up, but the fact that they persevered and regrouped in order to make their (as of now) masterpiece…that’s nothing to scoff at. Joy is infectious, and under the rule of Paramore, it’s hard to believe that anyone left Hammerstein Ballroom with anything less than a jaw pain-inducing smile.

Openers Kitten are made of a similar mold as Paramore, following an energetic front woman to the gates of hell and back. That front woman is 18 year old Chloe Chaidez, who comes off as more of an atmospheric presence at times yet can grab your attention by the throat when needed. Towards the end of the band’s set, she jumped on one of the mountains of amps, both to scream her lungs out and to sit and let her band fill the air around her. Even from halfway back on the floor, the smile on her face was evident. Their brand of post-punk-tinged pop demanded center-stage, and whether by design or not, they were the perfect entree for a night that proved, among other things, that few bad things can happen from letting a young band explode with intensity.

Paramore Setlist:
Interlude: Moving On
Misery Business
For a Pessimist, I’m Pretty Optimistic
Decode
Now
Renegade
Pressure
Ain’t It Fun
The Only Exception
Let The Flames Begin (w/ live outro)
Fast In My Car
Ignorance
Looking Up
Whoa
Anklebiters
That’s What You Get
Still Into You

Encore
Proof
Brick By Boring Brick

The post Paramore @ Hammerstein Ballroom: May 16, 2013 appeared first on CMJ.

Iceage, White Lung @ Bowery Ballroom: April 20, 2013

Luis Paez-Pumar — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 20:12:57 +0000

“Can we turn down the lights?” Possibly the only non-song-title words spoken by Iceage lead singer Elias Bender Rønnenfelt on Saturday night at Bowery Ballroom, these six words served both to create ambience and to piss off those fans who happened to be caught near a photographer’s flash. “Four young (white) dudes form a punk band” may be a time-worn cliché, but Iceage wears its past lives well. The whirling dervish of human contempt at the center of the storm is Rønnenfelt, kicking amps and front row attendees’ heads as if they were rocks on his walk home from high school. This is a young band with a relentless appetite for anger, yet they’ve managed to channel that into a feast of forceful power chords, hammering drums and an underlying bass heartbeat from Jakob Tvilling Pless that would steal the show in any normal configuration.

It was all overshadowed, for better or worse, by the anti-charisma demonstrated by Rønnenfelt. His apathy and antipathy for his audience was so aggressively put-on and exaggerated that one can’t help but believe it. While alcohol may have been a part of his disregard for the 500+ people in attendance, even a stone-cold sober sociopath still is a sociopath. With no words between sets aside from a “fuck you, this is our song title” introduction to every part of the set, there was little time to catch your breath and question the art in front of you. Instead, like on both of its stellar records, Iceage worked to demolish you, bit by bit, until your heart was on fire and your energy evolved into something more exhilarating: rage.

That’s not to say that the crowd was as blatantly against each other as Rønnenfelt was; instead, that rage turned into passion, as fans ping-ponged off each other like so many molecules in a given space. (Quick aside: There may have been actual rage for the woman trying to hold up a banner throughout the show. Someone finally grabbed it and told her, in more explicit terms, to put it away.) It was a joyful pit, but that joy stemmed from a dark place, one that Iceage resides (and possibly vacations) in. “You’re nothing!” they screamed. “You’re blessed,” they yelled through hoarse throats. Those two things are not in opposites; in the minds of these four Danes, you can’t truly have one without the other.

A different kind of energy was on display immediately beforehand, as Canada’s White Lung burned through any disconnect before them. No opener disappointment was found here, as the band blistered through its catalog with an ease that revealed its experience; having formed in 2006, this is a band that has grown together and discovered the extremes of both its talent and its intent. Singer Mish Way cut a most attention-grabbing figure, headbanging her blonde hair in every degree of the circle, stomps accentuating a pop sensibility that even she tries to fight against (a very sardonic “this is our attempt at a pop song” prefaced one of the night’s highlights). But make no doubt about it: Behind the admittedly punk-rock edge that White Lung exudes, there’s a melodic core that slices through the air like katanas. Lean into it, because the blood you cough up might just be worth it.

The post Iceage, White Lung @ Bowery Ballroom: April 20, 2013 appeared first on CMJ.

Joy Formidable, Blood Red Shoes @ Webster Hall: April 18, 2013

Luis Paez-Pumar — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 16:44:52 +0000

It’s a safe bet to say that there was not a single place louder in New York City than Webster Hall last night. Within the paradoxically intimate cavern of a venue, guitars rushed out like dragons, spewing fire over a sold-out crowd, while drums crashed and hammered away, an invading army at the doors. The controlled chaos of sound was courtesy of two bands from across the pond: the U.K.’s loud-pop duo of Blood Red Shoes and Welsh power-rock savants the Joy Formidable. With only a minor break between the bands, the show was a sonic overload of epic proportions, by design and by sheer force of will.

Blood Red Shoes consists of guitarist Laura-Mary Carter and drummer/makeshift hypeman Steven Ansell. There’s no third member providing any fancy-pants accoutrements like, say, a bass guitar. It’s a minimalistic setup, but there’s nothing small about the sound. Sounding like a mix of Bloc Party, Led Zeppelin and even Nirvana at times, the Brighton duo rides momentum like a wave of poison: careful not to go overboard, but exhilaratingly close to it all the same.

Where some songs featured power chords strummed ad infinitum alongside hi-hat rides, others chose to go for a deeper combination of clean guitar licks and toms. It’s almost too much to take in from such focused performers; one almost wishes that they emoted more while playing, but then again, the music is the message here. For every sudden end to a song (Blood Red Shoes doesn’t do fadeouts, thank you very much), there were affectionate touches that gave the performance the sense of a band fooling around—a tambourine here, a broken snare there, a stolen drink later. This gave an added human touch to the very focused and infectious rock, and if last night’s set is any indication, these two may do well with investing in a lot of new snare drums.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, there is the almost-extraterrestrial force of nature that is the Joy Formidable. After the set’s initial triple burst of “Cholla,” “Austere” and latest single “This Ladder Is Ours,” one thought crept into mind: This band would have been massive in the mid-90s. That’s on purpose, of course. Aside from the fact that the Joy Formidable don’t leave anything to chance, they crib from all manners of ’90s (and before) rock ‘n’ roll. No fancy genre names needed here; just a guitar, bass, drums and, for some reason, a gong (I wonder if they regretted that last bit, considering the obnoxious sect of fans chanting “GOOOOONG” after every song). Rolling through every hit from its two-album existence, the trio rose above and beyond the call of duty to give a hell of a show. Bassist Rhydian Dafydd preened for the crowd, even for the dude recording on an iPad mini (ugh), while drummer Matthew James Thomas hit his rolls and crashes with a wide smile.

The star of the show, however, has to be lead singer Ritzy Bryan. The best way to describe Bryan’s stage presence is to say that she is what Annie Clark (St. Vincent) would be if she were maniacally happy. Inspired by the days when rock stars where big, brash and outrageous, she’s all smiles and guitar riffs, with a voice that can hit the delicate notes of something like “Silent Treatment” as well as the snarls of the following song, set highlight “Maw Maw Song.” It’s a song like that one that fully encapsulates everything that is wonderful about the Joy Formidable: A powerful but simple bass line throughout allows Dafydd to work the crowd as well as the song’s backbone, Thomas doesn’t stop drumming for the duration, and Bryan shifts from snarl to soaring to stepping back to unleash the apocalypse via six strings. By the time fan favorite “Whirring” closed out its even-more-incredible-live coda, there was no higher peak for this trio to hit. They had scorched every inch of Webster Hall (and they would have done the same at the biggest arena in the world), leaving behind slightly deaf ears and smiles as wide as Bryan’s. Where do they go from here? Someone give them a spaceship; new frontiers need this much rock.

The post Joy Formidable, Blood Red Shoes @ Webster Hall: April 18, 2013 appeared first on CMJ.

Kendrick Lamar @ Roseland Ballroom: February 26, 2013 (Early Show)

Luis Paez-Pumar — Wed, 27 Feb 2013 16:34:45 +0000

Kendrick Lamar has a problem. It’s not a bad problem to have, but it’s a problem nonetheless: His talent has outkicked the coverage of his music. In other words, Kendrick is playing to crowds that he has in the palm of his hand, but his songs aren’t quite there yet. At last night’s early show at Roseland Ballroom (he played two sets back-to-back, due to overwhelming demand, as they say), he had 3,000-ish people singing along to every word, and while the dancing was a bit subdued, it went a long way in showing that Kendrick is learning to weave his particular brand of rap with his burgeoning star power.

As an artist, Kendrick doesn’t have too many songs that you could call bangers; even his verse on “Fuckin’ Problems” is relatively subdued (although hearing 2 Chainz’s voice blasting out to a sold-out show will probably never get old), so much so that the biggest thrill during the song was seeing if he would bring out any of the other three performers (he did not). The loudest reception for a song actually went to “Money Trees,” which is hilarious when you think about the fact that the song flips a Beach House track as its sample. There’s no denying, though, how good it sounds to have everyone rapping along, and bonus points when Jay Rock stepped on stage to deliver his show-stealing verse.

In fact, the secret MVPs of the night were the other three Black Hippy dudes, who separately came out at various times throughout the set and all together at the encore (more on that in a bit). Ab-Soul came out and did his verses on the Danny Brown-assisted “Terrorist Threats,” with Kendrick stepping back as hype man more than ringleader. Schoolboy Q had the night’s funniest moment, when he spit some truth after playing his hit “Hands On The Wheel”: “Fuck that song. I’m tired of playing that motherfucker. Can’t wait for all of you to hear my new album.” We can’t wait either, Q. He also assisted Kendrick with his ad-lib on album standout “m.A.A.d city,” which sadly cut off before the G-funk-tinged second half.

The night, however, belonged to K-Dot. One thing that used to bother me about seeing Kendrick live was that he used the crowd too much during songs; part of it seemed to be well-intentioned audience participation, but it also seemed that Kendrick was nervous about wearing out his voice during a set. That’s changed as he’s grown more comfortable as a performer, and now when he busts out some of the trickier flows in his catalog (for example, the third verse of “Backseat Freestyle” or his “I Am” interlude that led to the encore), you feel his passion come through.

He stays using the crowd for laughs, though, which is always welcome; a semi-trademark of Kendrick is to pick out a girl from the crowd and tease her a bit, which is always welcomed by said girl. On this night, his plan semi-backfired in a charming way when he picked out a girl who happened to be there with her girlfriend; you could tell that Kendrick was loving it even if he couldn’t do his whole teasing bit to the fullest. A few more sections of the crowd got some love, and perhaps most importantly, it never felt like Kendrick was pandering. The biggest nod he gave to his fanbase, however, was rocking through pretty much every jam on good kid, m.A.A.d city; the just-got-a-music-video “Poetic Justice” stood out, as did the bonus track “The Recipe,” which featured Kendrick gleefully dropping Dr. Dre’s verse.

Kendrick genuinely seems to love performing for big rooms, because as he said in his post-”Swimming Pools” bit, he’s still not adjusted to the fame and love that he gets every day. His “We made the mainstream come to us” might be the best way to put it, and further proof that he hasn’t changed too much came with the encore. Possibly the weirdest and best song in his repertoire, “Cartoon And Cereal” finished off the night for the early show. Given Gunplay’s recent release from house arrest, there were wandering eyes for a bit to see if the MMG raper would come out, but instead, Kendrick was joined by his best friends, and as Black Hippy took center stage and belted out the song’s chorus, or as they stepped a bit to the side to let K.Dot navigate its weirdly voiced verses, you could tell that these dudes know they’ve made it. The question now is, who’s going to stop them? If last night’s set is any indication, the answer is no one.

Setlist:
Westside, Right On Time
Hol’ Up
P&P
Fuckin’ Problems
Terrorist Threats (Feat. Ab-Soul)
A.D.H.D.
Tammy’s Song (Her Evils)
Look Out For Detox
Money Trees (Feat. Jay Rock)
Backseat Freestyle
Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe
Poetic Justice
Hands On The Wheel (Feat. ScHoolboy Q)
m.A.A.d city
Chapter Six
The Recipe
Cut You Off (To Grow Closer)
Blow My High (Members Only)
Swimming Pools (Drank)
I Am
-Encore-
Cartoon And Cereal (Feat. Black Hippy)

The post Kendrick Lamar @ Roseland Ballroom: February 26, 2013 (Early Show) appeared first on CMJ.

Foals – Holy Fire

Luis Paez-Pumar — Mon, 11 Feb 2013 16:08:35 +0000

When a band releases a single ahead of an anticipated album, it should clue you in on what that album will sound like or at least work as an introduction. When Foals released the propulsive “Inhaler” at the tail end of 2012, it sounded alien for the five-some. Behind a repeating guitar riff and a chunky bassline, singer Yannis Philippakis works his usual whisper into a frenzy, and by the time the chorus kicks in, it’s a full-on scream, a sound that his bandmates rise up to meet, more like a fireball exploding than a rock band from Oxford. But there are cracks in this supposed hard-rock direction; toward the end of the song, Philippakis simply exits, throwing himself across the room to allow an oddly dance-tinged outro to take center stage. The video for the song ends with a room of people dancing, but something’s off; it’s less rave than full-on cult ritual. The rest of Holy Fire is a counter-punch to “Inhaler,” a swerve that then hits all the more powerfully for setting us up with this false start.

Holy Fire is not an album of hard-rocking tunes that move to the beat of a conquering army; instead, this third effort from the band is a study in isolation and lack of inertia. In a way, it takes from what made Frightened Rabbit one of the most stirring bands of the last 10 years: By going internal, Philippakis and co. have crafted an album that forces you to come face to face with your own struggles, with your own fears. A triumphant tone is nonexistent in songs like “Bad Habit,” which is more about defeatism than overcoming, and as the song reaches its climax, it becomes about a rebirth of acceptance. “Wash the stains away,” he sings before the music interrupts his moment of cleansing. Only after an extended segment does our protagonist get his final word in: “Wash the stains away/And I feel quite OK.”

But does he? The affecting “Late Night” finds us back in that dark place, the last night you spend with someone you love before they are taken from you. The song builds from a slow guitar combination to a subdued snare-driven rhythm that’s more of a false sense of security than anything to hold on to. Foals have matured since 2010′s Total Life Forever, but with maturity comes the acceptance of what it will all eventually mean: nothing. “Stay with me, stay with me” is the refrain, and it’s a plea as much as it is a resigned attempt to cling to the past. When you realize that we are all ultimately doomed sets of random particles, the best you can do is organize the chaos. And that’s where the final portion of the album takes us.

“Providence” strives for resonance by using a familiar vocal melody, but the music behind it borrows heavily from a variety of sources, including a bongo that bounces from side to side, disorienting that sense of neutrality that the song previously afforded you. Think of it as a raft after a shipwreck, only the waves have started crashing a few knots away. You know the end is coming, but will it be a painful drown? The answer, true to form, is yet another swerve.

The album’s closer, “Moon,” takes in all of the rage, all of the power, all of the despair—and turns it on its head. The five-minute track features more as a slow burn (you could argue that the term was created just for songs like this) than an apocalypse. It sets you up for a right hook, one last emotional pain before it’s all over, but then it just does not arrive. Instead, Philippakis whispers, resigned to his fate, “It is perfect/It is beautiful still.” This is a fatigued assertion. This is a quiet undoing. This is a Holy Fire, and it is a beautiful dying ember.

The post Foals – Holy Fire appeared first on CMJ.

Jessie Ware @ Bowery Ballroom: January 17, 2013

Luis Paez-Pumar — Fri, 18 Jan 2013 16:19:38 +0000

Photo by Sarah Wolff

Jessie Ware was not prepared for the Bowery Ballroom last night, and neither was I. That is not to say that she was sloppy in her performance; in fact, it went off smoothly and efficiently, with highs hitting soaring pinnacles and lows hitting devastating valleys. That is also not to say that she was not a good performer; quite the opposite really, as she harnessed the intimacy of the venue and turned it back on her audience with her powerful voice and low-key stage presence. No, Jessie Ware was not prepared for one thing and one thing only: adoration. Her crowd was just that: hers. Every song came with raucous applause and almost Beatlemania levels of screaming.

It was astounding to see and hear, and I don’t think that Ware took it lightly. Breaking into smiles as wide as her voice is impressive, she was left almost speechless by just how loved she was. “I’m normally a lot chattier to pass time between songs,” she said. “I am not chatty tonight.”

That talent was on full display, as Ware went through a comprehensive tour of her recorded output, mostly focusing on last year’s Devotion. She kicked things off with the title track and its pleading, “I need your devotion,” refrain that took a different vibe when accompanied by a backing chorus of audience members. She had the room’s devotion, at the very least. Wearing a blazer and a dope gold chain, Ware’s movements were subtle throughout, mostly consisting of sways appropriate for her catalog: Devotion is an album full of moments as subtle as a hip roll but as powerful as a high note carefully orchestrated and sequenced.

In a way, Ware is almost old-fashioned in her soulfulness, allowing her music and her lyrics to be what you remember, at least in partnership with her aw-shucks sense of self-awareness. It’s what allows a moment like, “Last time I played in New York, Kim Kardashian’s cat died. Now they’re having a baby. This one is for Kim and Kanye,” to come off as endearing rather than pandering. It also allows her to almost cry because an audience member gives her a bouquet (no, really) before dedicating album closer, “Something Inside,” to that same person. That song’s jittery verses give out to allow Ware to take center stage, yet she doesn’t unload her best wail (that comes later); instead, she stares out into the crowd and drops her volume to a whisper, carefully spoken through strands of hair, right into your subconscious.

Towards the end of the brisk set, Ware joked that she had been on Fallon the previous night and that, “the Roots are pretty good, eh? That drummer… Yeah, he’s good.” A sheepish grin came across her face as she then segued into “Wildest Moments,” arguably her best song yet and what I presumed would be her encore, the song she played to hammer home that she’s a superstar (as if this crowd needed that assurance). However, she threw a pleasant curveball afterwards, saying, “This is our last song. I don’t believe in encores. You all have to sleep and go to work tomorrow, so yeah. Last song.” It’s refreshing for an artist to subvert a trope as traditional as the headliner encore, so when the last notes of “Running” rang out and she walked off stage as the house lights came on, the clapping and cheering wasn’t for, “One. More. Song.” It was a sincere and appreciative “Thank you.”

The post Jessie Ware @ Bowery Ballroom: January 17, 2013 appeared first on CMJ.

HAIM @ Music Hall Of Williamsburg: December 15, 2012

Luis Paez-Pumar — Mon, 17 Dec 2012 16:31:29 +0000

HAIM’s family business is music, and business is, at the very least, a hell of a good time. The three sisters that form the bulk of the band have an easy chemistry, born of years no doubt spent yelling at each other while simultaneously loving each other more than is normal for an outfit. The trio (plus drummer Dash Hutton) played an hour-long set at Music Hall Of Williamsburg on Saturday night, and they took control of the 500 person room with their easy-going charm and seeming lack of interest in general rock show conventions. Lead singer (although that term is a bit loose because all three sisters share vocals) Danielle is perhaps the quietest of the three when it comes to banter, but the duo flanking her more than made up for that: Este and Alana Haim went back and forth all night, teasing each other and generally making the audience giddy. It happened to be Alana’s birthday, a fact that Este celebrated by telling her that she needed to strip to her birthday suit. This did not happen, despite some catcalling from the crowd. “Perverts!” Alana yelled, everyone laughed, and then the next song kicked in.

The next song generally turned out to be a good jam: these ladies have some serious chops. Perhaps it is their family band past (more on this in a bit), or perhaps just a devotion to their craft, but HAIM unleashes more energy than one would expect from a band that has just one EP to their name. Songs like “Don’t Save Me” and “Go Slow” buckled under the raw power on stage, as Danielle used her almost hoarse vocals to guide the songs to their next points, while her sisters provided everything from backup vocals to bass solos to thundering drumbeats. There was a reggae-influenced song that should have seemed out of place but instead fit like a glove, giving the more exuberant fans a chance to dance.

And dance they did! HAIM’s fans are as passionate about the band as the band is about its music; every lyric was sung, every head was banged, and every dance was performed, sometimes with choreography (a group of fans employed dance moves from the band’s “Forever” video, and quite well at that). Even the band seemed taken aback early on, with “holy shit” being uttered by all three. “This is the best show we’ve ever played, obviously,” said one, and the other two agreed. They got over those jitters (although not entirely; at one point, Alana noted, “You guys are fucking making me cry. I can’t see my keys!”) and stepped up the energy to yet another level, because that’s what rock stars do when they play to adoring fans. The pre-encore set ended with a gratuitous (but not unwelcome) drum-off between the sisters and Hutton; it was more drum circle than competition, with a crowded venue and disco ball subbing in for a full moon-bathed beach. As the rhythms climaxed and exploded into finality, the foursome ran off stage.

They were back soon after, however; in fact, perhaps it was too soon, a fact acknowledged by Danielle: “This is our first ever encore! We had no idea how long we were supposed to stay back there.” It was a charming moment of sincerity for a band that oozed coolness for 50 minutes beforehand. The cracks in their armor were showing, and they were the better for it. Also fueling this? The happy birthday singalong that prefaced their final song: no matter how cool you are, a happy birthday singalong is always cheesy, in the best ways. This was just a prelude to what ended up putting a dumb smile on everyone’s face: the reuniting of the Haim family band, Rockinhaim. “Papa” and “Mama” Haim came out and performed with their daughters with an ease born of many a show in the Haim living room. With their mom singing lead vocals and their dad rocking the drums, the sisters took the chance to run around the stage, laughing in ways that you don’t normally see. A family affair this was, and damn if it didn’t make you just a bit jealous to not make music with your closest kin.

The post HAIM @ Music Hall Of Williamsburg: December 15, 2012 appeared first on CMJ.

Tanlines @ Webster Hall: November 29, 2012

Luis Paez-Pumar — Fri, 30 Nov 2012 15:58:34 +0000

If nothing else, the members of Tanlines play to their own strengths. The Brooklyn duo played a homecoming of sorts last night at Webster Hall, and they didn’t stray too far from what makes them crowd pleasers: sparse, self-aware banter (from only one member; more on this in a bit), crystal clear reproductions of their studio sound, and a whole lot of dancing. It was a set that lasted a bit over an hour but felt like 20 minutes. In that way, it is reminiscent of their 2012 release, Mixed Emotions, from where they grabbed most of their set list: breezy, efficient, and a hell of a lot of fun.

In a move that seems odd for a contemporary band, singer Eric Emm takes a step back on stage, ceding all banter (minus nine words: “Hey, what’s up? I don’t talk too much.”) to charismatic bandmate (and the voice behind the hilarious @tanlines Twitter account), Jesse Cohen. Last night, Cohen was nervous, charming, and honest; he was a Tanlines song come to life. He quickly won over the crowd with a comment about walking to Veselka before the show, before taking a literal step back when the lights shone on the packed venue. “This is my favorite part, talking with and seeing all of you. I’m sure it’s your favorite too!” A quick laugh, a knowing shoulder shrug, and they were back to the music.

The music turned out to be pretty much every highlight from Mixed Emotions, minus the Beach Boys-inspired chorus of “Lost Somewhere.” Early on, they hit the energetic “Green Grass,” moving a crowd that had been politely shuffling along through the first parts of the set. It was a smart choice, as the energy level never really dipped after that aside from when they played a new song (prefaced with “This is Clare’s favorite song,” which got a bit of a cheer from some random ladies in attendance, presumably named Clare). They also played a livelier version of “Brothers” than on record, showcasing Cohen’s multi-instrumentalist tendencies as he switched from drums to synths with ease. Those drums were highlights on other songs, as the band’s well-known contrast between pop synths and tropical steel drums really popped when performed live.

The strongest part of the set was the ending, which is just another professional strength that Tanlines has appropriated. The highlight from both their album and the set is the more somber “Not The Same,” which starts with a repeating piano line before thumping a bass drum in. When the song inevitably climaxes, the crowd lost their collective shit, shouting the title back at the duo. Afterwards, Cohen laughed and proclaimed that that was “probably my favorite Tanlines song,” getting a clap from this in-agreeance reviewer. That segued into the pop hurricane that is “All Of Me,” easily the most exciting song in the band’s catalog. After an extended intro that seemed to (playfully) tease the audience, the song exploded into its big chorus, which predictably became even bigger with the whole room shouting along. A quick encore break followed, followed by the understated “Real Life” taking the duo out, back into the city that they call home. It was a cold home on this particular night, but like the crowd shuffling awkwardly out, it’s likely that they were sweating a bit from dancing a very quick hour away.

The post Tanlines @ Webster Hall: November 29, 2012 appeared first on CMJ.

Angel Olsen @ Glasslands Gallery: November 12, 2012

Luis Paez-Pumar — Tue, 13 Nov 2012 16:24:33 +0000

It’s important to start at the end. As the last note rang out from a single electric guitar, the singer smiled gracefully before sitting down, cross-legged, for about three seconds. Whether collecting her thoughts or just letting a packed room’s adoration wash over her, Angel Olsen took those three seconds as an exhale from a set that felt pleasantly claustrophobic; Glasslands was more like a blanket than a venue last night, and only about 10% of that had to do with the fact that it was shockingly warm. Olsen acknowledged the heat in one of the few pieces of banter that she landed her set: “It’s warm in here. I just smell… awful. I ate garlic soup earlier and it was delicious, but now my armpits smell.”

She paused to let the laughter ring a bit before adding, “Maybe that’s good to some? God I hope so.” And therein lies the key to Olsen’s undeniable allure as a singer-songwriter: her sense of the moment combines with a feeling of hope that leaves an audience in a knockout lull.

Rewinding a bit, Olsen walked out with just one guitar and no backing band at all. Her only friends on stage were a bottle of water and a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Starting with the cheekily named “Miranda,” she took over the room by force of will and an intoxicating and vibrating voice. That vibration is perhaps the most impressive part of her live set; while on record it’s plenty impressive, hearing it from mere feet away as it creaks and groans and shatters draws the breath away from the lungs. This is serious music that took a wrong turn somewhere, a drink too many somewhere else. Olsen tweaks the self-serious songwriter trope to her advantage, throwing in an unlikely phrase here (from the excellent “Acrobat”: “I love the way your voice is sex.”) and a self-deprecating sentence there (before “Acrobat”: “This song is called ‘Acrobat.’ Ugh. I shouldn’t have said it. It’s like when the song title is in the first line and it’s so embarrassing.”)

The show did suffer a bit (almost minimally) from the lack of additional instrumentation, but only because Half Way Home has some unexpectedly thrilling flourishes. Other than that, the choice to go at it alone, with a toned down guitar, is a wise one for Olsen; her words and her voice are the main attraction. The blues-y “Lonely Universe” does double-duty by being both the best song on the record and the best song in her set, with the perhaps self-referential opening line, “Your hands were cold, your voice was shaking,” setting the tone for what is a perfect winter ballad. It’s a slow burn, over seven minutes long, but it feels as if it ends too soon; one could see themselves listening to Olsen as she weaves through its guitar licks and melancholy pace.

A little while later, she introduced the last song (“Always Half Strange”) with a humble, “This one’s for you guys, if you’ll have it,” creating one more ripple of applause that would be picked up for the aforementioned post-set sit-down. Sometimes, all that one needs is a guitar, some great songs, and a hell of a voice. That being said, a sense of humor sure doesn’t hurt.

The post Angel Olsen @ Glasslands Gallery: November 12, 2012 appeared first on CMJ.

Tame Impala @ Webster Hall: November 10, 2012

Luis Paez-Pumar — Mon, 12 Nov 2012 16:36:12 +0000

Photo by Sarah Wolff

How does a live band create atmosphere that feels real? You can add as many smoke machines, light effects and visuals as you want, but it takes a special kind of act to transport its audience to a slightly different, slightly off reality. Tame Impala know this better than most bands, and their trick is quite simple: They let their music handle it. Anyone who has heard the band’s recorded catalog can appreciate just how intoxicating the Australian outfit’s music is, and hearing it live is only an extension of that. At Saturday night’s Webster Hall show, Kevin Parker and co. took a step back from themselves, filling their set with only minimal banter and almost negative stage presence. There were no power slides or crotch grabs here.

So if the band was doing its best to lend the music center stage, how did it hold up? That is a question that really can only be answered by looking at the set’s strongest segment: Halfway through the regular part of the set, the band kicked into “Elephant,” the first single from album of the year contender Lonerism. The Queens Of The Stone Age-inspired strut of its drums shook the floorboards of the venue in combination with the crowd stomping in rhythm. Parker’s Lennon-esque voice may have suffered a bit from being behind the instruments, but it’s mostly irrelevant when the music is so good. This segued into “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards,” which recently had a rather trippy video released. Live, the song kept its hallucinatory qualities while adding a bit more poppies to what is already Lonerism’s poppiest song. Finally, the trio of excellence ended with “Alter Ego,” off of the band’s first release, 2010′s Innerspeaker, which is both woozy and rocking, a switch that this band can flick on and off with dexterity.

The rest of the set wasn’t a disappointment compared to those three; in fact, some of the more thrilling moments came later. The Innerspeaker double-whammy of “Why Won’t You Make Up Your Mind?” and “Desire Be Desire Go” plowing through layers of haze (and yes, marijuana smoke) to make swayers out of everyone. The pre-encore finale of “Apocalypse Dream” felt like a cruel joke; how does a band hold off on a six-minute gem until the crowd is feeling the exhaustion of an hour of music? Not that anyone was complaining, but what should have been more of a dance track turned into the night’s biggest communal sigh. Here is where Parker took the opportunity to show that he is a true star: hitting every high note with ease, the diminutive Australian then dropped to his knees for a power solo that recalled classic rock’s heyday better than any band now save maybe Titus Andronicus.

The band took a short reprieve before coming out to an extended version of “Half Full Glass Of Wine,” off of its self-titled EP. This was a nod and a wink to old fans, who frankly lost their shit. And then, it was over, and that same haze that had transported the audience now hung on the dimly lit room, a reminder of the world that they had just returned from. Saturday night awaited, on an Earth slightly different from what had been before.

The post Tame Impala @ Webster Hall: November 10, 2012 appeared first on CMJ.

Wild Nothing, Braids @ Bowery Ballroom: October 20, 2012

Luis Paez-Pumar — Tue, 23 Oct 2012 15:30:51 +0000

Wild Nothing’s strength lies in the ability to transport an audience to a calmer version of the room it’s occupying. At Saturday’s Bowery Ballroom showcase, the band achieved that both in sound and visuals, imprinting a sense of serenity to the last night of CMJ. Starting with the visuals, it’s clear that the band, a project led by Jack Tatum, places an emphasis on atmosphere: Purple and light green lights flooded the stage, while a misty smoke gathered, swirling about not dissimilarly to the band’s guitars.

Sonically, however, the band remains as airtight as ever, plowing through a catalog of mostly songs from this year’s excellent release Nocturne. The highlights are hard to point out because a Wild Nothing set contains no missteps to contrast against, but if there’s one song that perfectly encapsulated the show, it was the album and set opener, “Shadow.” A four-minute lament masked with a driving drum line and a memorable guitar riff, it showcases Tatum’s dexterity with weaving dream pop’s ethereal nature into more traditional melodies and flourishes (a string interlude sounds both indulgent and absolutely necessary). The song even allowed for a moment of humor that is so important to self-serious music such as this. A few songs later, an audience member shouted “Shadow!” to which Tatum laughed and stated that they had already played it but, “We must have played it very badly if you didn’t recognize it.” Cue audience laughter among the smiles that had been forming since the moment the band stepped on stage.

Braids went on directly before Wild Nothing, playing a set of all-new songs as they have been doing throughout CMJ. The Canadian band, now a three-piece, has always had a spiritual link to Animal Collective, and this bold move resonates with that connection even as the music itself moves away from the Baltimore indie heroes. Braids’ 30-minute set revealed an interesting truth about the new material that the band has been working on: They are taking influences from more varied places, including a not-subtle nod to Burial as well as tinges of Jamie xx’s production work.

This change is most evident in the shift in focus, musically: Whereas their debut album, Native Speaker, featured woozy synths and powerful guitars, the new material is percussive in nature, showcasing Austin Tufts’s talent for exciting drum work. The star of the show, however, remains the same: Lead singer Raphaelle Standell-Preston’s voice is a marvel to hear live, even more so than on record, because of its shifts from ghostly whisper to powerful shrieks of anger. It’s a stunning contrast that fits the band’s beautiful dismay, and it continues to make Braids one of the more exciting young bands going. If their live set is any indication, their next album will be just as captivating as Native Speaker, if for very different reasons.

The post Wild Nothing, Braids @ Bowery Ballroom: October 20, 2012 appeared first on CMJ.

CMJ 2012 Artist Q&A: Blue Hawaii

Luis Paez-Pumar — Fri, 19 Oct 2012 22:26:42 +0000

Blue Hawaii is the duo of Braids’ lead singer Raphaelle Standell-Preston and Montreal artist Alex “Agor” Cowan. Blue Hawaii is also an experiment. Serving as a way for the two musicians to explore their musical compatibility, the project had already created a stellar EP in 2010 by the name of Blooming Summer, and a recently recorded album is lined up for January 2013.

Before then, the band is playing CMJ 2012 as well as opening for Grimes on October 27 at Bowery Ballroom. I caught up with them over the phone a week before the festival to check in on the band’s new album and the pre-show jitters. They had a lot to say about the differing methods of music creation, a new-found love of electronic music and finally breaking out of one’s shell.

Did the process for the second album differ from the first?
Alex Cowan: Well, definitely. Since it’s been so long since our last one, one thing that we noticed was that we’ve learned a lot since the initial recording, and the last thing was just this really quick effort that we did after we got back from a trip to Central America. So we definitely had learned a lot and gotten into a lot of different styles of music, so it took quite a bit longer to make. We started pretty much in the new year in Vancouver and worked on it a lot. The big difference between the last one and this one is that we were working on this one separately, sort of. I would spend a night in the studio doing stuff, and then Raphaelle would do it the other night, and we would kind of trade on and off duties doing that for the entire length of it. So this kind of weird thing developed where we never really played any of the songs together or we just worked on it in the music itself. We didn’t sit in the same room and do it until it was finished, and now we’re playing it live or whatever.

Do you think that that’s a better way to do it for you guys? Or do you wish that you had more time together?
Raphaelle Standell-Preston: It was just kind of what life provided for us at that time. I don’t know; I think each individual record has its own process that it requires, and I guess that in order for this one to get done it required us to work separately. And our schedules didn’t really allow for us to come together so much on it. But maybe with our next record it will be different? I’m happy with the work process with this one. It was very interesting. Very interesting, you know?

Was there an inspiration that made you go “OK, we need to do this record?”
AC: Yeah, definitely. A big thing for me was that the trip this time was more to Europe and specifically to Berlin. Going to a lot of deep house events. Late-night techno events in Germany. It was a big inspiration for a lot of the things that we’ve done on this record. That’s becoming apparent especially now that we’re playing it live. While we were recording it, it’s harder to get the feeling of. With a lot of electronic music, it’s interesting because it’s composed in a studio, but then it’s DJed to tons of people. It’s funny—that dichotomy of some guy sitting in a dark room somewhere making something that is meant to be played in a very social environment. That’s interesting now because playing shows and putting together a live set, you come to realize about that experiential aspect to the music and how electronic music in particular can be really really good for that through, obviously, dancing and stuff like that.

Blooming Summer by Blue Hawaii

You guys are playing the CMJ Music Marathon. What do you hope to get out of your appearance? Is this record something you’re trying to work out on stage?
AC: I think I have a really interesting way of putting that: A big problem that people have when they’re trying to play music back when they have less members in their band than they could possibly play with the sounds they have on the recording, it’s like “Do we sample this?” Or, “How do we recreate this experience that we gave on the record?” It’s different for different bands, but one thing that we’ve been doing that I’m excited about is making the songs again, in this new way where we just take very short samples from our songs. Just one-bar loops and two-bar loops and trigger them back as chords and then Raphaelle sings on top of them while I do live MIDI stuff and drum machine stuff. Basically, make new versions of the songs that aren’t just playing back the drum part and playing back the synth part but actually making them brand new.

RSP: Reading the audience and just seeing what it is that they’re in the mood for. That’s something with Braids that I don’t really do too often because we’re really concentrated in the music that we’re playing and the members who are on stage. I’ve never really looked out into the audience and never really enjoyed interacting with the audience, and that’s something that I’m really looking forward to during CMJ. Realizing that an audience is there, and they give a lot of energy that you can feed off of that.

What’s been your favorite place to play, and is there any place that you want to go to?
RSP: Alex and I really want to go to Japan. So badly. Since we first met, we’ve talked about going to Japan at some point, and I think our music would translate well over there. I think the best was in Slovakia. That was really cool. When Braids went to Slovakia and Agor was tour managing us. It was this festival, and there were like a thousand Slovakian fans. It was really great. That’s my answer to that. I like smaller shows with good sound. You have the intimacy, but then really great sound. I hate shitty sound. It annoys me so much when things sound bad. Music is supposed to sound good. The music that I play is supposed to be sonically pleasureful, so when I play venues that have bad sound it takes a bit of mind work to try and get past that. To feel the raw emotion without the sonic pleasure.

AC: I think my favorite places tend to be more loft-venue type places. I started by opening a loft venue in Montreal and running it for a couple of years or so. In New York we used to go down to Silent Barn a lot and this other place called Much Mores and 285 Kent or whatever. Great place. 285 Kent is great because there’s pretty decent sound. That’s the problem with loft venues, sometimes they don’t have good sound. Either a place like that or a place that’s really set up for music, like, in Germany the big club is called Berghain, and for me, it would be this personal feat if I could play at Berghain. I remember a friend of ours and labelmate, Grimes, played Berghain, and I thought this was a really big milestone for her. I noticed that playing smaller shows is really fun and big shows is fun too. Then there’s kind of the in-between that’s sort of awkward.

What type of bands do you guys like playing with? Who would you want to open for?
RSP: I’m really interested in electronic culture. That’s something that really intrigues me because that’s something that’s very new to me because I spent a good five years in the indie community. I’m fighting to be very interesting right now, but how Purity Ring is crossing over into that area but also staying constant with indie rock still. They had Evian Christ open up for them, and they had Headaches playing—those are two great electronic acts. I don’t know, I think I’d like to open for—I love Max Cooper. He’s so great. He’s a DJ from England, and I love his music so much. Who else? Pantha Du Prince is really great too. Pantha was a big influence on the record that we just recorded. I have a guilty pleasure; I really like Royksopp. That’s a really guilty pleasure of mine. I don’t like admitting to that one too much. That’d be really fun, opening up for them.

The post CMJ 2012 Artist Q&A: Blue Hawaii appeared first on CMJ.

Hundred Waters – Hundred Waters

Luis Paez-Pumar — Thu, 18 Oct 2012 15:33:14 +0000

When you’ve got a hook as tantalizingly unique as “indie folk band signs to Skrillex’s label,” there’s probably a sense of complacency that can creep into the music. Hundred Waters have that intriguing narrative, but rather than settling on their brostep brethren’s co-sign-by-proxy, the Gainesville band decided to create an album of beauty and clarity. That second word is a big one for the band; there’s no reverb to muddle what is, at heart, a very earthy record. Guitars pluck, violins shimmer and drums hammer in the background as vocalist Nicole Miglis shows off her ethereal harmonizations. It’s a thrilling ride that shows what can happen when a talented band takes a new perspective on an old genre.

Opener “Sonnet” is perhaps the most charming of songs present on Hundred Waters, starting with a slow guitar line, picked among a woozy backdrop that recalls a walk through the mists of a fall morning. Miglis’s vocal style recalls Julia Hotler’s, only more immediate; it’s not a surprise that the band recently played in support of Holter, and really, it’s not a surprise that they stole the show. What comes through both on the record and in a live setting is that the band does not need to hide behind tricks; every instrument is played at an astounding level of proficiency, including the multiple vocals. “Visitor” starts off with a drone that threatens to knock down what the band built up on the opener, but then just as quickly it cuts away to reveal a xylophonic loop, giving Miglis the perfect backdrop for her vocals.

There are shifts in genre expectations here, but the band keeps one foot firmly planted in the folk sphere. “Thistle” sounds like something Radiohead would come up with if they were to take up the fight for the liberation of the pastoral resident, while “Theia” adds some brass to the proceedings and plays off of a cowbell that disappears within the mix at the most convenient times. The ritualistic “Wonderboom” seems destined to soundtrack many a night among the stars; as a native of the same Florida as the band, I can attest to its appeal for a late-night beach excursion.

The band can even get creepy at times, such as in the unfortunately named “. . . _ _ _ . . .” and its almost-horror-movie sparseness and ghostly vocals that run back and forth between the forefront and the darkest corners of your mind. It’s the courage to try such things that sets Hundred Waters apart from scores of bands; while not inaccessibly technical, they respect the music they are making enough not to drown its inherent beauty. By relying on their talent and confidence, the fivesome takes the listener to a futuristic setting, one where ’60s British pastoral music fuses with electro in order to fill a hole in the musical landscape. Just don’t expect them to drop the bass any time soon.

The post Hundred Waters – Hundred Waters appeared first on CMJ.

Mountain Goats @ Bowery Ballroom: October 16, 2012

Luis Paez-Pumar — Wed, 17 Oct 2012 14:43:57 +0000

They may not be the best ever death metal band out of Denton, but the Mountain Goats can take claim to one of the best live shows currently going. You could write an entire thinkpiece on the nature of John Darnielle’s stage presence. This is something that became quite clear during last night’s sold out show at Bowery Ballroom, as the 45-year-old singer-songwriter jammed, danced, rocked and joked around for almost two hours.

There are few frontmen quite as adept at reacting to a crowd like Darnielle; even the obnoxious tradition of shouting out song requests didn’t faze him; in one memorable moment in the early goings, a fan shouted out “This Year!” to which Darnielle replied by laughing. “Yeah, I’m gonna play that in the middle of the solo part of the set. That would be like telling you all to go home. Hold that thought, guy.” It was all in good fun, which was sorely needed because the Mountain Goats’ discography is full of some depressing tales.

One of the early highlights of the set was just one of those depressing tales: “Harlem Roulette,” a song from the band’s new album Transcendental Youth, tells of ’60s singer Frankie Lymon, who died of a heroin overdose at 25. Darnielle told the crowd what the song was about before playing it (as he did for almost every song on the set), and there was a sense of uncomfortable atmosphere throughout. It’s a hell of a song, but how do you cheer the tale of a doomed man? The Mountain Goats revel in this sort of conflict: they create uplifting songs about men and women who are devastated or, even more affecting, devastatingly flawed. The entirety of the new album loosely connects a theme of studying the lost and wandering, a theme that is difficult to get past when hearing them performed with Darnielle’s trademark vigor.

At one point, as mentioned above, Darnielle sent away the rest of his band to play a solo section that consisted of just a man and his guitar. These songs were all classics from the band’s long and illustrious history. The best of these is the heartfelt and earnest “You Were Cool,” a song that under lesser hands could be condescending. The loudest cheer of the early goings came in the iconic line, “I hope the people who did you wrong/ have trouble sleeping at night.” This made Darnielle crack an even wider smile than normal, which he explained afterwards: “I don’t like telling people what the best songs are, but that’s a song for a real person and I’m glad it resonates with people.”

A helping hand was lent by the Transcendental Three, otherwise known as the horn section. There were some mutters when the newest record was released that the horns were out of place in the band’s catalog (I don’t agree with that assessment), but it’s clear that Darnielle included them at least partly for the live set. The trio of new songs that followed the section’s introduction (“White Cedar,” “In Memory of Satan,” and “Spent Gladiator 2″) all used the horns differently, but the brass added a special touch to the night that wasn’t so much missing as it was waiting for patiently.

The best use of the horns (and subsequently the best song of the set) was the first encore closer and quite possibly the most famous Mountain Goats song: “This Year.” A song that contains no horns on record, it became something more, with each few lines in the verses being broken up with improvisational-like melodies and Darnielle’s ecstatic stomping and strumming. There are few things better than hearing a favorite song turn into something new, and the crowd paid back this great deed by shouting at the top of their lungs: “I am going to make it through this year/ if it kills me.” It’s a simple thought, but you can’t beat 500+ people belting it. A triple-song second encore closed out the night with a bit more energy than one would expect, before bowing out with a guitar-less version of “No Children.” The fatalistic track was a fitting ending, as the crowd marched out with thoughts of death, joy, and passion.

The post Mountain Goats @ Bowery Ballroom: October 16, 2012 appeared first on CMJ.

Port St. Willow, Conveyor @ Mercury Lounge: October 11, 2012

Luis Paez-Pumar — Fri, 12 Oct 2012 16:36:06 +0000

“It just got really effing cold.” These words were spoken by a woman in the corner, bundling up with her green fall jacket and sipping her beer. It wasn’t a reproachful or angry comment, more of an observation than anything. The occasion was Port St. Willow taking the stage at the Mercury Lounge, doused in darkness that broke only for a projected image of intermittent white spots, similar to fireflies. The aforementioned woman was not wrong; between sets, the temperature dropped around 20 degrees, turning Mercury Lounge as chilly as the October NYC night quietly relaxing outside.

Port St. Willow seemed to almost demand the cool atmosphere, matching it with their ethereal harmonies and pounding drums that seemed to take the air around and suck it in. There is space in the band’s stunning album, Holiday, but that space was filled in last night with distortion and tangible pain. Lead singer and project leader Nick Principe has a unique singing style; it is almost ghostly in its falsetto, something that isn’t quite there but you can’t ignore it. It’s enough to give goosebumps on top of the ones created by the cool temperature. His singing partner for the evening complimented his emotions with her more surreal vocals, a wisp among the forest rather than a fellow traveler.

And that’s what makes both Holiday and the band’s live set so enthralling: the group takes you on sonic journeys. Between foreboding drum rolls on the toms and bursts of guitar feedback, there is a consistent evolution of sound, from the smallest twinkle to full-blown explosions of beauty. The projections behind the band only helped strengthen this narrative, as Earth became an indistinct color palette before turning into a particularly memorable barrage of fire rain. The end of the world came and went and there was only noise among the silence, a love story that you couldn’t assign to one person.

Opening the night was Conveyor, a fitting contrast for Port St. Willow’s detached gorgeous sound. The five-piece filled the sparse room with its tropically-tinged indie rock, taking trips into both electronics and more traditionally acoustic sounds. The band has been compared to Animal Collective, which is reductive to a fault, but live, one can see similarities between the vocal styles of Conveyor’s lead singer and Avey Tare. It’s not enough to distract; it’s more a case of a band taking readily available influences and meshing them with their own interests. The resulting 10 song set was thrillingly professional; every note sounded as if it took years of practice to nail down. While banter was a bit on the uncomfortable side (this may be a result of a crowd that was still at the bar, warming up from being undressed in that nippy night), it was a minor distraction to an otherwise airtight set.

The post Port St. Willow, Conveyor @ Mercury Lounge: October 11, 2012 appeared first on CMJ.