The art scene is known to be cruel to its muses–artists often going unpaid for their creations. The political scene can be just as cruel, ignoring the pleas of its people. Lucky for those in Allston and Brighton, though, your policymakers are hearing you. In a stride toward making art a bigger and better part of the Allston-Brighton community, representatives from the Massachusetts Cultural Council, the New England Foundation for the Arts, and Harvard Public Affairs and Communications are hosting an informational event for gaining access to art and culture grants.
The event, held April 6th at 7pm at the Harvard Ed Portal, is a result of the city moving closer to a finalization of the Boston Creates Process, Boston’s cultural planning initiative. At the event, participants will learn how to access grants and other sources of funding for their creative projects. They will also be allowed to network. The event is intended to allow those in the Boston art community to gain necessary skills and information to maintain the longevity of their projects. The event is $free, and a ticket can be grabbed here.
Well Northampton’s LuxDeluxe are back with another bizarre and awesome video, and that’s great news for everyone on this Friday afternoon. If you missed the last premiere we did with these odd balls, then do your homework and watch THIS first. In a day and age where anyone can make a music video, especially in the DIY/Indie world, the quality of content and originality has undeniably been diluted, but apparently no one has told Director (and band member) Gabriel Bernini that because these LuxDeluxe videos are some other tip.
The video was shot by Ben Bradley-Gilbert around various locations in Northampton, and Ned King once again is bringing the heat here with top notch dance moves, this guys has to be one of the best frontmen in the game right now. The track “I Love You I love You” is off the bands forthcoming album “Let’s Do Lunch”, and you can catch them live at Out of Blue Too in Cambridge May 14th.
Upcoming Shows:
Smith College 4/7
Hampshire College 4/8
Northhampton 4/23
Full disclosure, Marc Finn (drummer, Frights, The) was formerly a managing editor at Allston Pudding. The Frights are pretty decent regardless.
We’ve been bumping Da (the) Frights new album for quite some time over at APHQ, but we were under strict surveillance to keep that shit on the D-Low as we were granted an early digital copy long before the actual album dropped at the beginning of this year via Dangerbird Records. It was tough not leak it to limewire or napster because we so desperately wanted to share these tasty jams with our indie rock community. Somehow we resisted the urge, and now the day is upon us where we can introduce you to the San Diego surf punks and their wonderful album “You Are Going To Hate This” (but you’re really going to love it, and it was also produced by Zac Carper from FIDLAR…)
The band has been on a long tour with SWMRS, and we got the chance to see them rip at Mid East Up when they rolled through Boston. We somehow convinced them to come to our basement and play us a private set, and they agreed! The drummer was kind of a dick to be honest (watch me curb stomp him HERE!), but the rest of the guys were super chill and nice! Check out “Kids” from The Frights live in our basement!
To call Junior Boys influential in the modern day resurgence of synthpop would be an understatement. Following their formation in 1999, the electronic duo, made up of Canadians Jeremy Greenspan and Matt Didemus, released their debut album Last Exit in 2004. Taking a stripped down, playfully wonky approach to pop music, the band crafted an album that, alongside Hot Chip’s Coming On Strong, largely informed the landscape of commercial synth music as it progressed through the end of the decade. The following years would see a steady stream of material from them that elaborated on their groovy but distinctly indie vibe, producing 3 solid albums and under-the-radar hits like “Parallel Lines” and “In The Morning”.
Last month, Junior Boys released Big Black Coat, their first record in five years and their most exciting in a decade. Largely eschewing the synthpop trappings on most of their previous albums in favor of Detroit techno, industrial and R&B influence, the record retains much of the charm of Junior Boys’ previous work while also feeling like an absolute breath of fresh air in their discography. A dark but never brooding collection, inspired in part by the barflies that Greenspan would see in his hometown of Hamilton, Ontario, the album conveys a feeling of emotional distance and coldness without losing its dancey edge. With Greenspan’s strong, evocatively repetitive vocals anchoring the album, Big Black Coat functions both as a washed out portrait of loneliness and fun set of songs ready for late night groove sessions; it all depends on how you approach it.
Junior Boys are hitting Brighton Music Hall tonight and we chatted to Greenspan ahead of the gig. He told us about changing labels, the stress of touring and the influences he’s looking to for future material.
Allston Pudding: This album seemed a lot more rooted in Detroit techno and even industrial than a lot of your previous work. Beyond a long standing interest, what drew you to those influences on this project?
Jeremy Greenspan: Probably a combination of some sense of nostalgia and reaching some milestone feeling of doing things for a decade along with things that were informed by the technical choices we were making in terms of what synthesizers we were using and stuff like that. Certain things that we were using were just leading us in that direction.
AP: Were there any challenges in incorporating those, for lack of a better word, underground elements like those into a more indie/electro vocal style?
JG: We don’t really think about it in terms of incorporation. That’s kind of just what comes out. We have a sound that’s us trying to do something but we don’t really think beyond just going and working on music. Our basic thing is that we don’t really think too much about what it is that we’re going to be doing. We just sort of fool around.
AP: From the almost mantra-like lyric “I am the dirty one” on “You Say That”, I noticed an element of repetition through the album. Was that a conscious stylistic decision going into the album, or more just how the lyrics came out?
JG: There was some degree of consciousness to it. I was obviously conscious of saying the word “baby” all the time and that kind of stuff. I think basically what I wanted to do was write the lyrics really fast and keep everything kind of raw and simple.
In the past I’ve been much more keen on editing our material, both lyrically and musically. Work on a small group of songs that I’m happy with and then really rework them and rework them and rework them. On this album I didn’t do that, which I think is the main distinction between this one and the ones we’ve done previously. Instead of doing that we wrote a large amount of material very quickly, threw out the stuff that we didn’t like and kept the stuff that we did like really raw.
AP: Did that lead to any tough decisions in terms of cutting anything good?
JG: No, because everything we cut wasn’t good! (laughs)
AP: Do you work on lyrical content alongside the melody and loops, or is it something you figure out when you have a more fleshed out track?
JG: It depends. There’s usually some sense of vocal melody and a couple of phrases that might start out at the beginning. On this album the lyrics were written really fast. Oftentimes the lyrics were written the same day that the song was sequenced. Then I just sang ‘em! I didn’t really take my time to set up a bunch of really good microphones or anything like that, I just did them really fast.
AP: Your hometown of Hamilton was a big influence on Big Black Coat. Do you feel like that location shaped the album in a different way than the big cities that electronic music tends to center around?
JG: Yeah I do, but I don’t think that should be that surprising. The place where someone makes music SHOULD influence it. I don’t think that’s something uniquely us. I think all good music reflects the place it was made to some extent, unless it’s really consciously not. Like if a Swedish band made a reggae album or something. I think most music reflects to some extent the place it’s from. I think in dance music that’s often very true, because it’s very urban music.
The city that we’re from is kind of a rust belt city. It has the same feelings as a lot of other rust belt cities where so much dance music is from.
AP: Touching back on the different sound of the record, you said “I’ve made this album, and I don’t really care who likes it or not.” With that attitude in mind, while you were writing was there any thought to have familiar Junior Boys elements, or keep things recognizable to fans or your older material?
JG: No, not really. I should probably preface this by saying I care that people like it, insofar as if people do like it I’m pleased. But I don’t care if people don’t like it.
But no, I didn’t have any notion of keeping things “Junior Boys-ey”, but with the knowledge that I don’t really have the ability to make things sound like anything other than Junior Boys. I have a kind of sound that I can’t really escape. That’s something I’ve learned about myself. I don’t worry too much about not sounding like me, because I know that I can’t.
AP: This is your first album on City Slang. How has your experience with them compared to your many years with Domino?
JG: It’s different with different people. The nice thing about City Slang is that they have that kind of raw enthusiasm that you get working with someone new; they’re super excited and super into doing new things, as opposed to Domino where it was an older relationship. I still have a relationship with Domino- they obviously have all of our old records and they’re my publishing company, so I still work with them. With City Slang it was nice because it felt like starting again.
AP: Since the Junior Boys started making a mark, the role of electronic sounds in the overall musical landscape has changed significantly. Were you surprised by the acceleration of popularity?
JG: Kind of. In some ways it has become more popular and in some ways it has declined. When I was a kid there was this whole rave culture that was happening, especially near where I was from and in Europe, and that sort of fizzled out. There’s a different type of dance music culture now but in some ways it lacks the kind of energy of the stuff when I was a teenager. I feel like the energy of dance music that I grew up with doesn’t exist so much in contemporary dance music. That energy is more in R&B. R&B for me has picked up that sense of creativity and experimentation and forward-thinking attitudes in contemporary music.
AP: Could you tell me about your live setup for this tour?
AG: We have this guy named Dale Butterfield who plays drums, who has a sort of hybrid drum kit that has a bunch of sample drums and live drums. Matt has an array of sequencers and synthesizers that are ported out of the computer so that he can do certain things in real time with a virtual big table of synths. Then I have a keyboard and looping pedals and I sing and play guitar.
AP: In the past you’ve talked about how tiring and disruptive touring can be on your creative process. There were some scattered festival dates in there, but having a longer break from heavy touring since the last run, have you found yourself enjoying it any more?
JG: Well, yeah. In the time out I did a lot of work. I did essentially three albums; two that I did with Jessy Lanza and then the new Junior Boys albums. I see that as a positive- I can’t get that kind of work done if I was touring all the time. For me it’s more important to be getting music out than going and promoting it.
AP: After this album it’s very hard to predict where Junior Boys will go next. Without putting you on the spot about what exactly to expect from future albums, are there any other influences or sounds that you’re interested in exploring?
JG: In the moment I’m interested in, and this will sound a little funny, but a lot of new age synth music. More ambient stuff. I’m working on some material right now that’s highly influenced by that. I’m incorporating that into our kind of sound. So that’s what I’m working on and I think the next thing I release will be in that vein.
Junior Boys play Brighton Music Hall tonight, 4/1, with openers Jessy Lanza and Borys. It’s not an April Fools joke, I promise you. Tickets are still available here.
We’re looking to broaden our scope a bit by covering more of the great local music our city has to offer. We’re looking specifically for writers interested in covering local hip hop and electronic music. Get at us via the form below, and we’ll be in touch!
After a minute of shuffling, car doors slamming, and voices bouncing in the distance, Michelle Zauner hops back into our phone conversation without a beat.
“I had to get someone to drive because we’re filming this video and I’m just stressed sort of,” she explains, throwing a quick apology to everyone in the car. “You know, just classic multi-tasking.” Considering the fact that moments before, Zauner was elaborating on her grief process following a family member’s death and her dissatisfaction with organized religion’s answers for the afterlife, her honesty isn’t all that surprising at this point.
While the modern music fan’s demand for constant emotional openness from their favorite artists has unhealthy expectations, it’s nearly impossible to picture Zauner creating an album as elegantly visceral as Psychopomp, her first proper full-length as Japanese Breakfast, without flinging the past two years of her life out in the open.
Although Japanese Breakfast was initially prefixed as a side-project of Philadelphia emo outfit Little Big League, which Zauner was the singer/guitarist of for nearly half a decade, Psychopomp is as much of an attempt to clarify history as it is to start a new one.
“The record spanned six years of writing. [“Everyone Wants To Love You”] was one of the first songs written, but obviously not with this record in mind,” Zauner says. “It’s kind of like a compilation record in a lot of ways, but it was put together after a really traumatic experience in my life.”
The catalyst in question was the death of Zauner’s mom within six months of her cancer diagnosis.
“If I had to describe a genre for this record, it’d be ‘psychotic pop.'”
“My mom had lost her younger sister to cancer; she had done 24 rounds and it didn’t work, so my mom had decided pretty early on that she wasn’t going to have any treatments. We just had to accept that that was what she wanted to do.”
Zauner moved home to Oregon to become one of her mom’s primary caretakers, effectively putting her life in Philadelphia on hold. As a result, Little Big League, in Zauner’s words, “imploded”, leaving her bandmates to explore wildly disparate side projects. Drummer Ian Dykstra started playing for fellow Philly act Sheer Mag, guitarist Kevin O’Halloran formed the jangle poppy Mercury Girls, and bassist Deven Craige joined americana-tinged pop rock act Strand of Oaks.
“If you heard all these projects, you’d have no idea they were all playing in a band together at one point,” Zauner adds with a laugh.
Meanwhile, Zauner’s decision to flesh out Japanese Breakfast as more than a showcase for her songwriting experiments (including an EP released as part of a blog conversation with Eskimeaux and Frankie Cosmos) came out of necessity. “Basically, I was stuck in Oregon for about a year, both helping my mom through her illness and being with my dad after she passed away. I had nothing to do; I couldn’t work a job because my primary reason for being there was to help out and be present. When I would have moments to myself, I would put this record together.”
As a result, Psychopomp is Japanese Breakfast’s most focused effort, but weaves wildly between the snarling guitar work Zauner employed with Little Big League (“Rugged Country”), synthpoppy odes to romance that gleefully rhyme ‘breakfast in bed’ with ‘give me lots of head’ (“Everyone Wants to Love You”), and weight of the world-burdened shoegaze dirges (“Jane Cum”). Regardless of its spread out influences, Psychopomp feels split between two major concepts: reckoning with death unconsciously and persevering with life in the conscious world.
“There was a note about a ‘psychopomp’ that, in Jungian psychology, they’re supposed to represent this midway figure between the conscious and unconscious realms. When I saw the word, I really liked the way it looked. It kind of looks like “psychotic pop”, which, if I had to describe a genre for this record, it’d be that.”
Psychopomps also exist in Greek mythology as ushers for the dead, offering guidance without judgement as souls head into the afterlife. “As one of my mom’s primary caretakers during her illness, that was sort of the role I had taken with her,” Zauner added.
With the arresting cover image of her mother reaching out from a decades-old photograph, Zauner is forthright about Psychopomp being an intensely personal document. “I was in this position where this album was kind of a ‘throwaway record’ for me, like something I wanted to do for myself,” she admits. “I realized it was really resonating with people though, so I decided I wanted to turn this into my main project.”
After eventually completing Psychopomp withher college friend and fellow DIY electronic tinkerer Ned Eisenberg as co-producer, naturally daunting tasks like putting together a band around a completed record and touring again seem minuscule to Zauner. If anything, the most (and seemingly only) fearsome task at hand for her is living with her creation.
“I always skip the title track when I listen to the record,” Zauner admits. “I mean, that’s my mom’s voice.” The sparse instrumental track is bookended with a phone recording of her mother telling her not to cry, recorded right after she stopped all treatments. “I wanted to put her voice on the record because I wanted to encapsulate her memory. I feel like that’s a very natural instinct, but I absolutely cannot listen to that song. How could I?”
An album’s soul-baring force is telling when its writer can’t bear to revisit it, but Japanese Breakfast rises above the standard musician’s offering on mortality by avoiding convenient typecasts of a “sad record.” Much like the actual grieving process, Psychopomp rides through the disjointed waves of grieving, interjecting masterfully with wounded anger, self-reflection, heartbreak, and wide-eyed joy often within its brief twenty-five minutes.
“I had a lot people come to me saying “she’s in a better place now” or “she’s in heaven”, which was really frustrating for me because I couldn’t really take solace in that. I just didn’t really believe in that kind of thing,” Zauner concludes.
And ultimately, whether she’ll be able to play the title track one day or not, Psychopomp’s greatest triumph is clear as the self-made solace of its creator.
Psychopomp is streaming now via Hype Machine and will be available April 1st via Yellow K Records.
For roughly a decade of my life, prescription I feared my father’s opinion on music.
Yes, tadalafil I also just spent the last year calling up my dad twice a month to talk about new music, so I guess I got over it. I don’t really remember why I thought this was a good idea in the first place, but I do know two things as we publish this, our last column together:
My father’s approval on music was necessary for me, even though I, in his own words, “rebelled against [him] through music.” The commute with him for the first two years of high school was a practiced ritual: he would offer the aux cord, the kid I carpooled with would pass because he only listened to Disturbed, and I would inevitably take the reins. My dad would then proceed to offer his judgements on all my music unsolicitedly: rap was always a no-go, Say Anything was too all-over-the-place (fair), We Are Scientists were okay at best (painfully accurate in retrospect), Death Cab for Cutie were little too mellow in their sadness (should’ve listened to him way sooner on that one), and countless other bands faced his punishing wrath. I still took the aux cord whenever it was offered though.
Having engaging chats with your dad as a twenty-three year old seems harder, but it’s possible! Whenever the occasional reader would come up to me and mention the column, the most prevalent comment was, “I could never do what you do with my dad.” Before this column, my dad and I talked about on the phone were our jobs, taxes, politics, daily minutiae, and, occasionally, music. I never felt like our conversations were lacking by any means, but there’s something about making fun of Mac Demarco and sending home-brewed beer to Ben Katzman as an apology for making fun of his mustache that makes a father/son relationship stronger.
Alas, I wanted to end things while it still felt fun and I suppose my dad deserves a break from all this millennial shit he’s had to put up with (s/o to the dude that told my dad he didn’t “know shit about dick” in one of the comment sections. We quote that regularly now).
On my dad’s 55th birthday, we looked back at the best and worst of Father & Son Review Co., discussing realizations, rehashed opinions, and lingering questions through the weeks. We hope this serves as a thanks for reading as well as a sheepish “sorry” to any of the bands my dad kinda poked fun at. A special thanks goes to our editor Nina, who helped us sound somewhat coherent in conversation! Without further ado, we present:
Father & Son Review Co. Reviews Father & Son Review Co.
Dad: Okay, like you asked, I went through all of our old columns and I reviewed your write-ups…
Tim: You reviewed my writing?!
Dad: Yeah! I forgot a lot of it, so it was funny to go back and read the comments I made.
Tim: Yeah, you’re sorta funny sometimes, I guess. I think my biggest fear was not representing you well. Did I do a good job?
Dad: Ehh… yeah. In the beginning, it was a little like that Walter character from Jeff Dunham’s act. I know our music tastes are different; I mean, you started veering off from things I liked when you got to high school, but it got better as we went.
Tim: Well, to be honest, I think that’s how you were at the beginning! You started every review with “what the hell is this shit?”, but you eventually grew to see the benefit of the doubt with each artist.
Dad: [using exaggerated finger quotes] Ahh, yes, I “broadened my horizons” a little. I went through the site and counted… did you know we reviewed 24 songs? I rated them all again and, out of the 24, one song was really good, five were good, nine were okay, and nine were terrible.
Tim: [laughs] What a success rate!
Dad: Yeah, it actually wasn’t a very good percentage, but that’s because it’s your music…
Tim: Is that supposed to make me feel better?
Dad: Well hey, if I showed you 24 songs that I liked, wouldn’t you react the same way?
Tim: I don’t know, we did cover “your songs” on twooccasions and it went over fine. Okay, let’s get to your list… what was the top song?
Dad: So, for me, The World Is A Beautiful Place was #1. Revisiting it this week was like going to a good restaurant you haven’t been to in three years. Like, all you remember was a great experience. I just remember that it was a great song and it had a freaky, theatrical video. I mean, that video could’ve been its own TV show, it was so well done. It had it all though: great singers, great song, cool video, good musicians… that was awesome.
Tim: Man, if you told me five years ago that you’d like The World Is… I dunno, I just wouldn’t believe it. What were the remaining “good” songs?
Dad: The other ones were, uh, You Can Be A Wellesley? A Wesley? That was a fun one. And, uh, Stove with that “Wet Food” song. I liked it because it was very Green Day-ish. The other few were from our Lightning Round… I can’t even read my notes here. Uh, Hop Along?
Tim: Wait, you liked Hop Along?! I recall you not liking her voice!
Dad: I said I liked the song, but her voice was weak, yes. And hey, you said you didn’t get into them initially!
Tim: You’re absolutely right; it took me a while to get into them. They’re warming on you a little though?
Dad: Nah. [laughs]
Tim: Ahh man, nice job broadening your horizons. What was the last good song?
Tim: Oh yeah, our only foray into electronic unfortunately! I still think it’s cool you dug it!
Dad: Oh, I almost forgot… the spooky girl with the Victoria’s Secret wings from the Lightning Round? The Grimes?
Tim: Grimes! Yes! Still really surprised that you liked her! I don’t mean to kill the positivity, but let’s jump down to the worst stuff. I have a feeling I know the bottom two already…
Dad: Oh boy… oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. Two words: Mac. Demarco. That was so painful. My only additional comment I had to make here was “yuck.”
“I discovered that I like 25% of what the kids like! And, for a fifty-five year old listening to twenty-five year olds, that’s not bad!”
Tim: [laughs] You didn’t try any of his other songs afterwards?
Dad: Nope. Sorry, Mac!
Tim: Don’t worry, he’s too rich to be listening. Who else?
Dad: Okay, a couple of the other “yucks”: Black Beach! Screaming guitar band. No thanks. Who else? Oh, Mr. Mustache Man!
Dad: Our buddy! I know we’re good now, but man, that song! Even though he’s a fellow Van Halen lover, I didn’t get it… so him, Vundabar with the awful dancing… oh my god, they were so awful. Literally, watching that video should be a form of torture. And Titus Andronicus with the singer I couldn’t understand was bad too.
Tim: Don’t worry, no one else understands him either. Were there any big surprises? Like, big revelations you had listening to all this millennial shit?
Dad: Hmm, good question. I said this last week, but I mean it: it’s so wild today that anyone can be in a band, have a recording, and make a video. I think it’s awesome because, when I was a kid and people I knew had a garage band, you had to work your butt off to be noticed. And even then, your odds of getting noticed were minimal. Nowadays, you don’t even have to be signed to a record! You just have to have a really good song and upload it to YouTube! I think that’s so cool.
I would’ve never heard of these bands if it wasn’t for this, so it was interesting to get perspective on the new bands out there. I discovered that I like 25% of what the kids like! And, for a fifty-five year old listening to twenty-five year olds, that’s not bad!
Tim: Most of them are even younger than twenty-five! And hey, I imagine it’s like fighting an uphill battle trying to relate to these songs!
Dad: Exactly. And I don’t even know how you find this stuff! I don’t really go on YouTube looking for new songs. I mostly rely on the radio!
Tim: We’re the internet generation, so if it’s not through music sites like ours, people find music through house shows.
Dad: We had house shows in college! But they were mostly local bands and, like I said, they never made it far because they didn’t have the internet to spread their message. But yeah, all of these bands had videos except a couple that used the website with the skinny rectangular box where you just hit play.
Dad: Yeah… whatever, man.I also noticed you gave me a pretty even mix of bands with female singers as well as male singers. It wasn’t dominant, which was cool. Like, if you look at country, it’s predominantly male.
Tim: Well yeah, that’s why I always make fun of it: most country songs are from one perspective and always about the same shit. At the same time though, the DIY scene is far from perfect in terms of including people other than white dudes playing guitar rock.
Dad: Sure. You did show me Speedy Ortiz and she plays guitar rock. You Could Be A Wesley, Courtney Barnett, Hop Along and Chastity Belt do too. You also showed me Grimes and Joanna Newsom, who were different.
Tim: Exactly. There’s definitely a shift happening within rock of representing more voices and genres, but I also noticed how often you said a song reminded you of the ‘80s or ‘70s. We are a generation informed by this sense of nostalgia for a time we never lived in.
Dad: It’s interesting you say that because I wonder what will music be like in 50 years. Will there be any more original genres or songs coming out? Growing up, my parents had swing music and Engelbert Humperdinck on a lot, which I hated, but you like a lot of “my music.”
With what you showed me though, there’s lots of different types of music going on today and lots of different formulas. We covered 24 songs, but how many more people and bands are out there that we never got around to?
Tim: You have no idea… like, I’m already having regrets stopping here because there’s so much music from Boston alone that I would’ve loved to show you. Guerrilla Toss, Dinnersss, ACLU Benefit… on several occasions, I thought of showing you this band called Pile, but you don’t like songs with screaming.
Dad: Ooh, there’s some joke opportunities with that name… play some of it!
[plays clips of “#1 Hit Single” and “#2 Hit Single]
Dad: That first one had a part that sounded very Led Zeppelin-y, but that was weird. It was, like, heavy metal. The guitars sounded out of tune. Not the greatest.
Tim: [laughs] I’m just… I’m not sure how to process the fact that you called Pile “heavy metal.”
Dad: I dunno, they had heavy instrumentation.
Tim: [laughs] Okay, back to your question though, I think I was initially scared to show you local music because a) a lot of it is more experimental and lo-fi than what you enjoy and b) I thought bands might not take kindly to you picking them apart. I tried to test your boundaries and make you squirm a little.
Dad: [laughs] I think you made me squirm a few times for sure.
That brings up a good thing that I learned while doing this though and that’s not to take the song at face value. I always tried to play the song first without visuals, then again with the lyrics in front of me, and one more time with the video if they had one. Sometimes the video helped enhance my impression and there were a few where the music wasn’t good, but the lyrics were like, “wow, that was awesome.”
Tim: And I think that’s where your comments started to change and you stopped saying “what the hell is this shit?” as much. Not a lot of dads get out of that first phase, I feel, so I’m kind of proud of you. Do you have any last thoughts to offer?
Dad: This was interesting, reviewing all of these songs. I really mean it; it broadened my horizons. I had a blast.
Tim: Any comments you’d like to defend?
Dad: Nope. I just hope whoever’s reading got a chuckle or two.
While Boston Calling‘s lineups have always been anchored by hometown openers, this morning the festival detailed its redoubled focus on local vibes by releasing a list of Boston artists and comedians to grace a just-added third stage. The lineup includes four local bands: Black Beach, Lady Pills, These Wild Plains, and Nemes. Performance times are forthcoming, but day-by-day schedules have been announced (check them out below) and the additional stage’s location has been confirmed on the Washington Mall side of City Hall Plaza.
Saturday May 28, 2016
Comedy
Lamont Price
Ken Reid
Sean Sullivan
Orlando Baxter
Kelly McFarland
Music
Nemes
Lady Pills
Sunday May 29, 2016
Comedy
Lamont Price
Ken Reid
Sean Sullivan
Orlando Baxter
Kelly McFarland
In true form for a Friday night in Allston, Great Scott was brimming with excitement, alcohol, and beanies. Strange Mangers, Cross Country, and Vundabar crafted a relaxed social and sonic dynamic.
Photo by Nick Raygun
Strange Mangers appear unassuming–clad in all black, with a pony-tailed singer, a thickly bearded bassist, and a wiry drummer. But their music is pumped full of color and personality, despite the nature of their sound. Reminiscent of American Football and Cymbals Eat Guitars, Strange Mangers are challenging the traditional emo sound. Not to Blame The Sound Guy™, but there were times when the guitar overshadowed the vocals, turning it into a mumbling mess. (Unless this was intentional?) But the band carried itself on harmony–not necessarily in sound, but in how in sync each member seemed to be. Guitar speaks to drums, follows bass, informs vocals. Their movements were few and glib, the bassist the most animated of the group, but their sound begets a cleanliness and precision that often gets left in the fuzz with rivaling emo/post-punk groups of this era.
Photo by Nick Raygun
After a brief set change, the Oxford, OH quartet Cross Country brought a charming Midwestern vibe to the stage. Having played with Vundabar in the past–the band noted their opening for the boys whenever they’ve come through Ohio–the kinship was palpable. They were jittery with energy, excited simply to be playing music. Sounding a little bit like Weezer (and with a song suspiciously evoking “Undone–The Sweater Song”) their chunky, twangy riffs balanced smoothly with the languid vocals. The towering guitarist rocked on his heels, the bassist sported a Jeff The Brotherhood shirt, and the drummer kept pausing to push his glasses up his face–all actions serving Cross Country’s wholesome, lively sound. Easygoing but deliberate, their music fills a hole in your catalog you never knew needed filling.
Photo by Nick Raygun
Watching a Vundabar show is like watching a ballet–graceful, enigmatic, and ultimately engrossing. Their set served this well, with frontman Brandon Hagen twirling and tilting his guitar, playing it behind his head a la Hendrix, all while standing on tip toe to reach the microphone. Eyes squeezed shut, sticking his tongue out, he leaned into every note. Hagen’s range is impressive–plummeting, growling deeper notes that color Vundabar’s songs with a warmth and richness, and bright, crisp higher notes that provide a sense of stability. Drummer Drew MacDonald followed suit, tossing and spinning his sticks, standing while playing, his glasses flying off of his face, hair a flying mess. The boys had a new bassist to show off–Grayson Kirtland, to replace Zach Abramo–and he melded smoothly with Vundabar’s persona. Bending and swaying into the music, he kept pace with the energy set forth by the founding members, but a noticeable tinge of nervous energy was hiding behind his every note. At the beginning of their set, they called for “mood lighting,” lowering the stage lights to hazy blues, casting them in a shadow that was electrified by their sound. Crowdsurfing, moshing, and cheers of encouragement from the crowd made the boys feel right at home. They played through some tracks from their debut LP Antics–“Voodoo” is what sparked the crowdsurfing–and some newer songs from 2015’s Gawk. Playing on a vow to avoid the hits, the crowd wasn’t fazed and still seemed to know every word to every song.
The surge in music festivals has pushed people to boredom. Another festival means another couple hundred dollars to see a generic lineup in a gated area selling $7.00 tacos. Don Giovanni Records recognizes the ridiculousness and are anxious to re-claim the excitement back into the festival this September with The New Alternative Music Festival.
The lineup celebrates diversity, D.I.Y., and talented musicians that are not always included in the standard festival lineup, including Aye Nako, Downtown Boys, Mal Blum, Radiator Hospital, Kindling, Ought, P.S. Eliot, Worriers, and Upset, just to name a few. Emphasizing differences between The New Alternative Music Festival and the many other festivals, Don Giovanni issued the following statement.
“This is a pro-weirdo event held in direct opposition to the apolitical sludge that has come to pass as ‘indie’ and that has nothing to do with operating independently.”
In the same spirit, Don Giovanni has pledged to keep the cost of the event low, making three day passes $75, the price of a day pass at most festivals. Although the event isn’t until this fall, tickets are available now.
With the arresting cover image of her mother reaching out from a decades-old photograph, Zauner is forthright about Psychopomp being an intensely personal document. “I was in this position where this album was kind of a ‘throwaway record’ for me, like something I wanted to do for myself,” she admits. “I realized it was really resonating with people though, so I decided I wanted to turn this into my main project.”
Tim: Man, if you told me five years ago that you’d like The World Is… I dunno, I just wouldn’t believe it. What were the remaining “good” songs?
Tim: We’re the internet generation, so if it’s not through music sites like ours, people find music through house shows.
