Posts about Central Park
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Download “1 2 3 Apple Tree” | Herman Dune just wants to tell you pretty little stories, so it’s no surprise that singer David-Ivar Herman Dune often races himself, half-speaking, half-singing in an adorable accent; making the substitution of “said” or “thought” with the word “like” (as in, “I’m like, the sooner the better”) and other colloquial uses an absolute treat. The charm probably comes from a feeling that even though David refers to himself in the third person while quoting someone else talking to him in a song, the perspective of the storyteller/observer seems to be the reverse of Alice in Wonderland. He has broadened his view of the big beautiful world found in small marvels of stories to such an extent that he himself shrinks, and we don’t mind at all.
Continued after the jump
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Once the gentle rain subsided on Sunday evening, the sun brought a warm glow to Central Park’s Summer Stage. It remained there until sunset, making it possible for a continuously growing throng of Yael Naim fans to stream in without having to battle nature in addition to long lines. Paris-born Israeli songstress Yael was a yellow fruit bursting with gems of tunes birthed at her tiny apartment, some sung in French, others in Hebrew and English. She played with a band of four, including drummer David Donatien who was credited as her musical partner; a bassist, and a fellow on accordion who at one point impressively raced his fingers on the piano; Yael switched between a guitar, a ukulele and the piano.
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Continued from New Beirut Sounds Fabulous (part I)
With the impromptu show at Music Hall of Williamsburg, Beirut has redeemed itself since the last time they played New York City. There were a few things wrong at Delacorte Theater in Central Park last fall (pictured above, and throughout this post). From where I sat, the very last row and almost the very last column to the right of the stage, the band’s sound fizzled into an unrealized imitation of the Balkan. The seated crowd had been asked to “throw their hands in the air and wave ‘em like they just don’t care” by the preceding hyperactive Balkan Beat Box, and the crowd had obeyed without hesitation, but throughout Beirut’s set, the energy was mute. When my friends of Eastern European heritage (rightful Balkan snobs) scoffed and left (“seriously, I don’t get it”), I stationed myself at one of the photo pits, center-front of the stage, and the sound was no different from what I’d heard at the amazing Bowery Ballroom shows.
Continued, and more photos from the Central Park show after the jump.
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The afternoon was sizzling on Saturday, and most people didn’t dare get up from their blankets spread over the green carpet of Central Park’s Summerstage. But Apostle of Hustle’s charming frontman Andrew Whitman didn’t appear alarmed. He began by saying “Happy Pride Day,” and went on to play “My Sword’s Anger” and the title track from their newest, National Anthem of Nowhere. His pool of random behavior – like displaying a scarf before blindfolding himself for no reason – was good for morale throughout.
The opening band was Winnipeg’s The Duhks, glittering with the spark of a Grammy nomination for Best Country Vocal Performance by a Group or Duo. Charged with a fiddle and a style inspired by genres all over the world (folk, samba, country, soul), there was no denying their on-stage talent. Posted below is “Death Came a Knockin,” which earned some sing-along cred, taken from a radio performance on KGNU Radio Boulder.
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More after the jump.
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