Not only is Tune Yards selling Bell House out these days, but Merrill’s adoring fans knew all the words and sang along without being asked. Merrill was in a great form, and the bass guitar is a nice addition.
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.
*I use this term to loosely define a lifestyle.
Download Untitled, Track 2 (off Naturally More Molatov)
by Ana Lola Roman (via Impose, with permission)
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 called Spit 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.
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.
The box set includes a DVD of this short documentary, but if you’d rather not shell out $60 (or $42.99 on Amazon), IFC is still screening it three more times over the next three days.
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!
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.
