Kristian Matsson, who goes by the name The Tallest Man on Earth, knows what to expect from New York. Last night he played Highline Ballroom for the first time, a higher capacity venue than Bowery Ballroom and Music Hall of Williamsburg, and sold it out in advance. This was an all-age show, which meant an avalanche of super excited young fans (“I don’t think you should go to school tomorrow”, said one little thing to the other after the show ended). The fans sang in the words that Kristian left out (“in your eyes babe”, “leather”). Someone yelled out something in Swedish, and Krisitian claimed the translation was “you fucking pussy”. He mocked the girl who yelled, “Say something in Swedish”. He addressed the impracticality of too many requests: “That Jackson Browne Cover”, “I Fall to Pieces”. “How can I sing them all?” is what he said, “We’ll be here all night”.
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Not only is Tune Yards selling Bell House out these days, Merrill Garbus’ adoring fans knew all the words and sang along without being asked. The performance was superb; there were a few new songs.
This being her first headlining show in New York, she noted the newness of knowing that everyone present was there to specifically see her; and it was great to see the recent addition of a bass guitarist to what had previously been a solo stage act—not that she needed the extra help.
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Look out for Ana Lola Roman! She’s like the punk-rock*, real life version of Uma Thurman’s character in Pulp Fiction. She even dances like her. It was a little difficult to get a good sense of the overall aesthetic from her set at Don Pedro’s last night (presented by Impose Magazine’s Test Patterns series); lots of texture was coming from pre-recorded sound bytes off her laptop, she was playing her synth, and she had a drummer. Noticeable right away, though, is that she’s very much a performer, doesn’t care too much about her tight pants hanging too low, and has an incredible voice. Being the simpleton that I am, I’d really like her to sing with just a good old piano at some point; her voice shouldn’t have to hide underneath all that other noise, but then she’s the real life version of Uma Thurman’s character in Pulp Fiction, so I’m sure she enjoys the chaos.
Two toddlers dance to the Beets at Brooklyn Museum
When I first saw The Beets in Austin, Texas, it was hard to tell if I liked them. Maybe it’s the extensive touring that has followed since, or just better PA systems, or even a clearer state of mind on my part, but I’ve grown to like them quite a bit.
Their album is calledSpit in the Face of People Who Don’t Want to Be Cool, an apt command in the present’s muddle of music culture, especially in a place like New York City. In fact, the message on the packaging is worth noting: “The Million Dollar Man” threatens singer Juan about not signing to The Millionaire Records, and the text below reads, “A collection of one million songs about money, power and regret”; on the front, “A collection of 12 songs about being cool”. Those 12 tunes are all great lazy, lo-fi, catchy, moving about leisurely because their own wholesomeness produces plenty of direction, motion and speed to keep them all going, giving in only to friction and gravity, which brings them to a satisfying end.
They played with Crystal Stilts and Grass Widow past Saturday at the Brooklyn Museum, though I didn’t get to stick around for the last two. I made an attempt to listen as if (given the context that this was not their normal audience) I was listening to them for the first time, and from that viewpoint, it seemed like the music scene was in a good shape. Continue for all the pictures.
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I went to see the 27-min Rolling Stones documentary, Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out, last night and I absolutely loved it! If I understood correctly, the show filmed is the first time “the best band in the world” played “the best venue in the world” (Madison Square Garden), in 1969. At the very least, the footage of a shy Jimi Hendrix backstage and of a peppy Janis Joplin dancing at the sidelines made my day. But it’s really the clips of the first two songs, “Prodigal Son” and “You Gotta Move” that are stellar—stripped down, Mick Jagger sitting on a stool, accompanied only by Keith Richards on an acoustic guitar. Filmmaker Albert Maysles was present to introduce the film, though it would’ve been more fun if he was open for Q&A instead.
Despite the Manhattan skyline and the presence of some grass, the Waterfront is no McCarren Pool; but Jelly NYC’s free Pool Parties are still a solid Sunday option. I was looking forward to see Health for the first time, and was more than pleased with their multiple drumming and seductive dancing. I haven’t quite gotten into The Black Lips, but their young fans put on an adventurous show–body-surfing, stage-diving, slamming the barriers against the stage, flipping the security guards, throwing a ukulele over one song in (which got smashed into bits within a few seconds.
The weather was on board for most of the day, but thunder and lightning eventually rolled on, and Trail of Dead’s set got canceled for safety reasons.
The memorable cello refrains that haunt most Dark Dark Dark songs were noticeably absent last night, as cellist Jonathan Kaiser wasn’t around, but there was plenty of heartbreak in the whimpers of Walt McClements’ trumpet, the wails of the clarinet, the sullenness of the piano, the bowed sounds of Todd Chandler’s upright bass, and Nona Marie’s able voice. To perk things up, there were, as always, the accordion and Marshall LaCount’s banjo. It was an intimate “Hooves on the Turf presents” show at the small space at Sycamore, and they played for about an hour. They play Le Poisson Rouge tonight at 9!
I was psyched to learn yesterday that The Tallest Man on Earth has run out of his last vinyl press of Shallow Grave (which included a 4-track 7″ of his self-titled EP). Well done, fans! I’m super thrilled because I remember holding my copy when I bought it and thinking, this is the one vinyl I’m most glad to own; my idea of a perfect record, with foot taps and all; if I were to use one word, it’d be “courage”. Think about it. A man from Sweden writing folky songs in English, with nothing but a guitar, and sometimes a banjo, finishing them up in a home-recorded style, and putting out a US-release on a small run of vinyl. It’s kind of an F.U. to the state of the music industry, if you ask me.
Thanks so much to everyone who came out, especially the fabulous bands who played, and to Trophy Bar for hosting the whole madness. I know everyone I invited to play were some of my favorites, so of course I was thrilled more than anybody else to see them all at one place, but I was extra excited because they all played incredibly strong sets. A ton of pictures are posted here with helpful captions, and we filmed pretty much the whole thing, so video will come soon too! All pics were taken by me (Sarahana), except where noted.
hooves on the turf is a mostly-music blog based out of brooklyn. i can be reached at hoovesontheturf [at] gmail [dot] com - please send me your lovely music as an attached mp3 or an mp3 link. if i like what you send, i'll be sure to ask for more.
Evan Hammer: and now i’m excited too! thanks for the new band.
Jens: Where can I order t-shirts from the Tallest Man On Earth online? Is it possible at all?
nat lyon: three cheers for secret garden! it’s been too long.
jamie: Yo! You should definitely check out this awesome video MPLS.TV just shot of Dark Dark Dark this week for City...
sarahana: they were taken with the new iPhone 4 using the Hipstamatic app
