RVA Magazine Articles

RVA TV: Best Friends Day The Movie - Part I

anthony — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 12:37:14 -0400

If you only watch one RVA TV video in your life, make sure it is this one.

It's Richmond's favorite day of the year and now favorite weekend. It's Best Friend's Day 9!! Our coverage takes you from the opening concert to the lake where this video starts to take on a girls gone wild at a judas priest concert parking lot kinda feel. Join our hosts Ashby and Jesse on this tour as they show how much our cameras love drunk people!

CLICK HERE FOR Best Friends Day The Movie - Part I

DAILY RECORDS: Funeral Pyre, Laurie Anderson, Tourmaline

Andrew — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 13:00:40 -0400

Funeral Pyre - Vultures At Dawn (Prosthetic)
Funeral Pyre aren't breaking new ground--throat-shredding screams; fast, somewhat melodic double-picking mixed with gothic dirge riffs; and dark, warlike imagery are all standard elements within the black metal genre. However, they craft an excellent album from these elements, making their relative lack of originality easy to forgive.

Laurie Anderson - Homeland (Nonesuch/Elektra)
Minimalist, quasi-classical backing, over which the featured instrument--Anderson's voice--is given ample room to roam. It grows to fill the space it's given--talking, humming, singing, chanting. Bizarre, mesmerizing, and at points devastatingly topical, Homeland is a predictable addition to Anderson's oeuvre, but certainly not an unwelcome one.

Tourmaline - Save Me EP (tourmaline.bandcamp.com)
Decent mid-paced rock n' roll with a significant emo influence. Not bad, but I'd like to see more speed here. None of the songs do much more than stroll along, and while they're pleasant enough, sometimes pleasant is just a synonym for boring. Liven it up a little, guys.

Moon Duo: Coming September 14 To Strange Matter

Andrew — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 11:39:38 -0400

A particularly psychedelicized lovers collaboration, Moon Duo pump out endless twilight biker-rock riffs, punctuated by interstellar space echo and a repetitive, romping White Light White Heat drum-machine pulse. Like the Spacemen 3 motorized by Neu!, with the electric fuzz and fucked distorted organ sounds of the aforementioned Velvet Underground LP, Moon Duo riffs on “Love On The Sea” for over ten minutes--ten minutes of phased-out headiness where the Silver Apples-style cosmic synth and oscillations are drowned out by a plateau of perilous hooks on infinite loop. “Escape” is seven minutes of Psychocandy-outtake fuzz pop drifting over a Casiotone beat.

Modern psych-heads should recognize the guitar playing of Ripley Johnson from his other heady rock band, the Wooden Shjips. Already having played this summer at the bohemian-celebrated Big Sur forest in central California, as well as in Jeruselum and Tel Aviv, Moon Duo are true road dogs.

Moon Duo plays at Strange Matter Tuesday September 14, with Palindrone (Christian Brady/Antlers/Meadows), Resin Pyramid (Caves Caverns/Human Smoke dudes), and Tungs.

Best Friend's Day 9 VIDEO WRAP UP PARTY

anthony — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 10:07:04 -0400

We bring you the best of the BFD 09 videos done by people in the community. Cue the music.

RVA RADIO: BbopNRokstedy August 2010 Mixtape

anthony — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 09:45:40 -0400

Electro Richmond duo BBopNRoksteday have released their first mixtape. You might have caught their set at WEIRD a few weeks ago or at the surprise RVA issue release party. Give it a listen and keep a look out.

1. Electrixx- Tetris
2. Mike & Charlie- I Get Live (Bird Peterson Remix)
Calvertron- Funky Jam (Cold Blank Remix)
3. Hiroki Esashika- Kazane (Disco of Doom Remix)
4. Benni Benassi- I Am Not Drunk (Bloody Beetroots Remix)
5. Electric Soulside- Feel Funky (Cold Blank Remix)
6. Dj Manie Ft. Casablanca Connect- Kiesz (Mightyfools Remix)
7. Aaren San- Apes from Space (Dirtyloud Remix)
8. Felix Cartal- Berlin (Religion Remix)
BbopNRokstedy- Us Us

CLICK HERE FOR THE MIXTAPE

BbopNRokstedy August 2010 Mixtape- http://soundcloud.com/bbopnrokstedy-mixtapes/bbopnrokstedy-august-2010-m...
BbopNRokstedy on Hypem- http://hypem.com/#/search/bbopnrokstedy/1/
BbopNRokstedy- Castle Video @ NyDeli Weird - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6pS6poESY0
BbopNRokstedy FB page- http://www.facebook.com/pages/BbopNRokstedy/282902423940?ref=ts

RVA NO.2 is turning zombies into people.

anthony — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 22:47:59 -0400

Just realized we hadn't put out an official post for the new issue. We are feeling good about this one. Check the press release and spread this thing around.

Open publication

We are enjoying the last days of summer here at the office and sniffing the pages of the newest episode of RVA. Ahhhh, smells sweet as this is our best issue yet, hands down. No joke. Completely blows all others away. It is packed to the rim with relevant information on our city and we are pretty stoked to see it in your hands and preying in your minds.

In this issue of RVA, we have an exclusive interview with none other than the iconic Pharrell Williams of N*E*R*D and the Neptunes. He talks about the upcoming album and the love he has for the ol' Cap City. We follow that up with words with metal/punk illustrator Will Towles, former Commonwealth and current Dominion designer Bryan Woodland, share secrets with pinup artist Erik Jones, stir up controversy with PUNCHLINE creator Pete Humes, weave a tale on the East End Fellowship in Church Hill, profile the enigmatic Diamond Black Hearted Boy, touch weirdness with Kemper, and understand the origins of The Gods Of The Bobbleheads. After that run on sentence, you have the latest and greatest incarnation of RVA to reach the masses ever!

So take a minute, flip through our pages, sip on your moonshine and find out what Richmond, VA is really about.

Cover by Joseph Talman

SHOW REVIEW: The Diamond Center, Tungs, Climbers

Andrew — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 18:25:51 -0400

The Diamond Center, Climbers, and Tungs
August 26 at Strange Matter

Strange Matter--the most recent reincarnation of Richmond’s revered punk rock venue, 929 W. Grace St--was swimming in a sea of psychedelic bliss last Thursday night. The Diamond Center, Tungs, and Climbers performed for a sizable crowd, who were there to hear some of the most exciting new sounds in Richmond live and in person. The evening was a tremendous experience, as each artist helped to create a spacious yet sharply vibrant soundscape. It seemed to hang over the evening even between sets, producing a cohesive aesthetic that flowed through the divergent styles of the acts involved.

The evening began with an explosion of energy as local psych punks Tungs hit the stage, tearing into a set opener that evoked the dark ambience of late 80’s proto-grunge and the primal beats of its’ most prominent forebears, Sonic Youth. The ever changing and evolving trio, performing in one of its many instrumental set ups, brought an eclectic variety of their lysergically influenced compositions to the table Thursday night. They blazed their way through a heavily instrumental set of unfinished new material that seemed to build momentum song after song. The lone song featuring vocals, recent single “Good Dreams," was a lock step blast of 60’s harmony and groove that stood as a counterpoint to the band’s free-flowing, largely improvised set. Tungs’ ability to be all things psychedelic at once is encyclopedic, combining jazz, krautrock, and the classic fuzzed-out wailings of the psych genre’s formative artists into their own unique sound. They create thrilling pop music that feels dangerously close to imploding upon itself at all times. The set culminated with a furious John Coltrane inspired closer that undulated and evolved into a saxophone driven din. It left the band dripping in sweat and the audience wanting more.

Electro-indie duo Climbers brought the temperature down in the room as their ambient, beat driven drones filled the long deep space of Strange Matter. These newcomers to the scene have taken the warbling textural stylings of Panda Bear as their touchstone, utilizing samplers and light percussion to create vocally ambient pop that felt familiar yet unique. The bands dynamic of two stringed instruments, bass and guitar, allowed them to create a more traditionally rock rooted sound than other purely electronic pop artists, while also embracing hip-hop and world music rhythms through sampling--which has become standard fare for indie acts. Overall, their set was a perfect chilled-out transition between the two more raucous bands.

The Diamond Center’s set was astounding. The group’s tight-knit instrumentation was immediately noticeable, and Strange Matter’s floor filled with spectators when their midnight set began. Looking picture perfect under the venue lights, The Diamond Center were by far the most comfortable of the evening's performers, owning the stage with confidence from the get-go. Their ethereal vocal harmonies shone through the venue’s PA system--which had been excellently run all evening--giving their performance an epic, expansive nature that had not yet been reached during the show. One of the group’s main strengths is the interplay between their two drummers, whose collective efforts produce a constant percussive vibrancy in the band’s ambient folk sound. When combined with the rest of the group’s melodic dynamism, it creates pure magic. The Diamond Center’s well-honed sound explored a variety of musical environments, touching on dub bass lines, frolicking guitar rock and weird neo-desert grooves that got the crowd moving, as the band’s frontwoman sashayed around the stage with her guitar over her shoulder, or shaking a maraca. Their set was an excellent ending to the evening, earning much appreciation from the audience as their final notes rang out. They signaled the close of a night of staggeringly good music from local artists, and equally good times for all who attended another fine evening at one of the city’s best venues for underground music.

HIP-HOP PLAYLIST: The Jams Of Terry (Sept. 2010 edition)

Andrew — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 17:46:57 -0400

Hey, my name’s Chris Terry. My friends call me “C.T.” Here are a few hip-hop and soul songs I’ve been hyped on this summer. I made a YouTube playlist so you can rock it while you read.

1. Am I A Good Man? – Them Two
From the incredibly solid rare soul comp, Numero Group’s Eccentric Soul: The Deep City Label. Wonderful warm, up-front sound and cascading rhythm that reminds me of another favorite, “Fool for You” by The Impressions. While searching for this video, I saw that Band of Horses do a cover, which I assume sounds like a shoebox full of queefs.

2. Thugs Prayer – Roc Marciano
Underground headnod hit of the summer from another major label never-was. Dude makes his own RZA-ish beats and rhymes like Raekwon meets Ultramagnetic-era Kool Keith (but not as good). What a gloomy bassline. The second verse is truly touching. Pause.

3. New Heights – O.J. Simpson (Guilty Simpson & Madlib)
When I first heard this song, I got hyped on the “purple bag Crown Royal” line because I’d just bought a bottle of Crown Royal. So I played this song and put the purple bag on my cat’s head and pretended he was in the electric chair. Also check out “Robbery” off Guilty’s album “Ode to the Ghetto.”

4. Deadly Medley – Black Milk w/Royce Da 5’9” & Elzhi
Black Milk: Best underground hip-hop producer at the moment, and now showing some polish on the mic. Royce Da 5’9”: Annihilating guest spots since the first Eminem album. Elzhi: Released one of the best albums of ’08, The Preface. Detroit: Best hip-hop scene in the country. PS – You guys meant “deadly melody,” right?

5. Let ‘Em Know – Bun-B w/DJ Premier
Bun breaks from the “aging scold who thinks kids don’t do it right these days, but keeps trying to pander to their wallets” mold that he’s been in since Pimp C got locked up. DJ Premier continues to bring the best out in MCs and provide album highlights (See also: “Unbelievable” by Biggie, and whatever the song is he did on Common’s Like Water for Chocolate).

6. Return of the Mack – Mark Morrison
British guy with a head shaped like a figure eight crafts remarkably knocking song in mid-‘90s, wears leather gloves in video. Film at 11.

7. Turns Me On – Big Boi w/Sleepy Brown & Joi
Everyone got hyped on “Hey Ya” in 2003, but if you listen now, it’s clear that Speakerboxxx > The Love Below. Sir Lucious Malfoy, The Son of Inigo Montoya is a solid album too. The secret weapon on this song is the Dungeon Family’s Sleepy Brown.

8. Rainbow in the Dark – Das Racist
Grumble hipster bitch skinny jeans moan irony fart…shut up dude, shut up. Every line in this song is funny and if you listen to it more than three times you’ll begin texting the lyrics to your friends. Das Racist is to the internet what the Beastie Boys were to ‘70s pop culture.

9. Elevator Music – Curren$y
Good-natured (read: not scary for collegiate white folks) stoner rap with smooth beats. Aside from weed, this guy raps about video games and cars, two things I have no use for. But I still like listening to him. Why is that?

10. Ride – Nappy Roots
Wistful. Makes me wish I had a porch. This album’s the bittersweet soundtrack to getting dropped by your label, moving back to your hometown, and realizing that you missed being there. And to think that I dismissed these guys as a second-rate Goodie Mob when they came out ten years ago.

Next time: College Town Nostalgia

JAMES RIVER FILM JOURNAL: “Films I Wished I’d Watched With My Dad”

anthony — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 11:25:24 -0400

If there’s one thing that my father and I used to like to do together, it was watch movies. We didn’t see enough of each other to catch whatever dropped into the local cineplex–rather, we had an intense sort of competition, a desire to seek out and find great, great movies to recommend to one another. My Dad lived in North Carolina, I lived in Minnesota, and we’d call now and again and brag about seeing, say, Children of Men or Buena Vista Social Club for instance. We’d argue, cajole, laugh, complain about this movie or that, and that was wonderful. It was our way of talking, of sharing a moment. These conversations enriched our lives… and the movies.

Dad died in the summer of 2008, and since then I’ve felt his loss continually whenever I see a movie. Good or bad, I keep wanting to talk to him about the thing. When I saw Inception, and loathed it, I found myself wishing I could have called and asked him what he thought… and honestly, I was itching to have the usual argument with him if he indeed loved that overblown mess. Recently, in fact, I had a dream that he adored Avatar, and we argued about its merits while walking the streets of a ghostly town (I was happy for that dream, let me tell you.) It was my father who turned me on to Welles, Bergman, Gene Kelly, and assorted classics. I had turned him onto the aforementioned Children of Men, L’Atalante, The Band’s Visit, and, believe it… Mr. Bean’s Holiday. I’m most proud of that last one, in spite of what you might think about it, because he told me it made him happy, and took his mind off his chemotherapy.

When James River Film Society president Michael Jones wrote me earlier this spring about “films I wished I’d watched with my Dad,” (Mike being the “I” in question) it was deeply inspirational. Mike’s dad passed away shortly after my father did, and, like me, he had a long history of watching movies with his pop. It’s a lovely idea, and I hope he gets his list onto this blog, because I’ve seen it and it’s worth sharing.

So without further complicating this matter, here’s some of the movies I’ve seen this past year that I desperately wish I could have seen with Dad. But before I leave you with it, if you love movies then I urge you to catch as many as you can with that person you love more than anything–Dad, Mom, wife, brother, best pal. That’s what makes the movies worthwhile, the way we share them.

Five movies I wish I’d seen with Dad:

Limelight, 1952, written and directed by Charlie Chaplin. I saw this one recently at the Film Forum in Manhattan, and then a week later with my wife, just to make sure I saw the right movie. See, I’ve never liked Chaplin, came near to hating him in fact, and Limelight’s supposed to be his weakest movie… I loved it. What I would give to have gotten my Dad’s insight into this complex, and very strange, movie.

The More the Merrier, 1943, directed by George Stevens. This amazing little film about love and friendship on the World War II homefront breaks my heart just as it makes me laugh. I’d watch this in terror with Dad, hoping that he’d like it, knowing I’d be crushed if he didn’t (he didn’t hold back his opinions, let me tell you.) But if he enjoyed it, man, I’d be in heaven.

Two-Lane Blacktop, 1971, directed by Monte Hellman. One of my all-time favorites, but I never got to share it with Pop. I have the very distinct feeling he would have hated it. Sometimes, that disagreement was half the fun.

Inglourious Basterds, 2009, directed by Quentin Tarantino. Here’s one I think he would have hated… but something else tells me it might have been a guilty pleasure. I just don’t know, and that’s what frustrates…

Mid-August Lunch, 2009, directed by Gianni Di Gregorio. Because, like me, he loved these little movies about next-to-nothing, that actually speak multitudes. If we’d seen this together, at the theaters, I like to think maybe instead of talking or arguing, we might have both settled into that blessed silence of appreciation that is the province of good friends and family. Sometimes that’s better than talking and just as memorable.

by Peter Schilling
main image is from 2 Lane Black Top

CLICK HERE TO READ MORE ARTICLES
FROM THE JAMES RIVER FILM JOURNAL

www.jamesriverfilm.wordpress.com

SHOW REVIEW: Purple Rhinestone Eagle, The Catnip Dreams, etc.

Andrew — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 14:56:18 -0400

The Grapefruit Experiment, The Catnip Dreams, Purple Rhinestone Eagle and Black Liquid
August 25 at Strange Matter

After expressing frustration with the way late shows on weeknights are often run, I found myself unwittingly becoming part of the problem last Wednesday night. I showed up at Strange Matter just after 10:30 and discovered that the first band was already halfway through their set. It's not fair to complain about shows starting late when you don't show up on time, is it? Mea culpa, mea culpa. I was pleasantly surprised to discover a decent turnout at the show. I tend to consider myself relatively "in the loop," and yet I had never heard of any of the bands that were playing. Therefore, I figured the show would be sparsely attended, which turned out to be a foolish assumption on my part. It just proves that being in the loop about one small segment of the scene does not mean that you know everything; there are probably other loops that you are out of, perhaps even to the extent that you don't know they exist.

The Grapefruit Experiment were the band that was playing when I walked in, and from the front door of the club, it sounded like they were repeatedly knocking over stacks of metal objects--oven racks, modular shelves, that sort of thing. Instead, they were set up on the floor of the club in what was close to a conventional power trio format, with a guitarist, a drummer, and in place of bass, a guy with a huge and elaborate setup of effects pedals. The guitarist also had quite a few pedals laid out before her, on a table rather than on the floor as is customary, and she was attacking her strings with the sort of metal brush that jazz drummers use to play softer beats. The sound she was getting from the scraping of the brush on the strings, combined with the rimshots and disconnected clattering being played by the drummer, were what had given me the impression that things were being knocked over. The Grapefruit Experiment's music seemed improvisational in nature, and evolved organically through different movements as I watched. After a few minutes, the sound built to a unified, powerful crescendo, and sounded for a moment or so like a band endlessly holding the final chord of a song, jam-band style. But whereas it's annoying when jam bands do such things, The Grapefruit Experiment used it to devastating effect, especially after the relative quiet of the earlier parts of their set. Rather than stopping, they moved past this crescendo and into more noise, though the latter part of their set was a bit more structured than the first few moments I heard. The guitarist went into borderline guitar hero mode at this point, leaning into her amp and wringing shards of noise and feedback from her instrument. The clanking runs of dissonant notes she played reminded me of a time when I saw Dillinger Escape Plan and their lead guitarist was having an off night; he kept getting out-of-sync when doing his speedy, elaborate runs of single notes, instead playing a bunch of flat, off-key thuds. For The Grapefruit Experiment, though, this was the desired effect, and it mingled well with the deliberately arrhythmic percussion and oscillating bursts of treated noise. It wasn't a conventionally musical set by any means, but nonetheless The Grapefruit Experiment gave a fascinating performance.

The Catnip Dreams are a Richmond indie-pop supergroup, featuring members of Hot Lava, The Diamond Center, and the Color Kittens, among others. Their sound brought me back to the early 90s, when the International Pop Underground movement, led by K Records in the US and Sarah Records in the UK, was at its zenith. The Catnip Dreams are not as minimalist as Beat Happening, not as sugary as Heavenly, and not as heavy as Sleater-Kinney, but musical elements of all three show up in their sound. With two guitars, a synth player, and a standard rhythm section, their sound is thick enough to bring the rock, but the undistorted guitar sound and the high, catchy melodies of the synth keep them more on the pop side of things. And then there are the vocal harmonies, truly the highlight of their sound. Four of the five took lead vocals on at least one song, and all of them contributed multi-part harmonies throughout the set. They seem to pull inspiration from the same 60s girl-group sounds that influence Best Coast, but The Catnip Dreams put this influence in the forefront of their sound in a way that Best Coast does not. Their riffs often resemble the three-chord post-blues progressions that dominated early rock n' roll, and at one point I could've sworn they were going into a cover of some 60s chestnut ("Fever"? "These Boots Were Made For Walkin'"?), only to discover from the lyrics that it was an original. After making as many comparisons to other bands, it might seem like I'm implying that The Catnip Dreams are overly derivative, but nothing could be further from the truth. The great thing about simple, catchy pop/rock n' roll is that it's an easy sound to play well, and The Catnip Dreams made that sound their own, writing excellent tunes and adding great vocal harmonies in the bargain. They played a thoroughly enjoyable set, and I hope to see them again soon.

Purple Rhinestone Eagle were on tour from Portland, Oregon, and hit the stage with the biggest amps of the night. A true power trio, they channeled the proto-metal sound of the late 60s and early 70s, bringing a consistency to that style of music that was often absent in the works of the bands who orignally played it. Other than Blue Cheer's Vincebus Eruptum, or the first Black Sabbath album, it's hard to find an album from the early days of metal that doesn't detour at least once into balladry or third-rate hippie jams. Purple Rhinestone Eagle avoided any such detours Wednesday night, delivering a thoroughly crushing set. They also managed to avoid the downfall of many modern stoner-metal bands: the tendency to stick with a single slow tempo and become monotonous. It took them 20 minutes to get through their first three songs, but the length of the songs was less due to sludgy tempos than to complex song structures, which helped to keep things interesting. They mixed things up even more on the next few songs, throwing in a couple of short punk blasts, complete with screamed vocals from their bass player. Their set ended with their most epic song of the evening, featuring a long introductory guitar solo. All three of the members were excellent at their instruments, but while their technical proficiency certainly helped make their music enjoyable, it's their songwriting chops that set Purple Rhinestone Eagle apart from the pack. At a time when stoner-rock has become a bit of a cliche, it's nice to see a band play it well enough to make clear the reasons why that sound became popular in the first place.

Black Liquid were the final group to perform, and it became apparent immediately that scheduling them last had been a poor decision. Most of the crowd had come to see The Catnip Dreams and Purple Rhinestone Eagle, and since it was getting late, it was easy for people who'd seen the group they came to see to rationalize bailing out rather than sticking around for the last band. I couldn't help but feel like the fact that Black Liquid were the only hip-hop group on the bill hurt them as well. None of the groups on the bill were very similar, but improvisational noise, indie-pop, and punk-influenced stoner metal all share a common cultural background, whereas hip-hop is coming from a very different place. The combination of the late hour and the significant difference in styles led to Black Liquid being a soundtrack to people saying their goodbyes. This seemed even more of a pity when I saw how good they were. Black Liquid reminded me of Jurassic 5 or Gang Starr; lyrically, they mixed socially conscious statements with party songs extolling the virtues of 40s, weed, and good times. Musically, they used soul samples and boom-bap beats to create a heavy yet funky sound. In addition to the group's DJ and three MCs, they featured a hype man whose antics significantly upped the entertainment value of their live performance. Every few songs, they'd stop the music, hand the hype man a mic, and he'd go into a pro-wrestling inspired rant, attempting to incite higher levels of energy in the dwindling crowd--complete with Ric Flair-ish interjections of "Woo!" Then, once the music started again, he'd jump around, both onstage and out on the dance floor, waving a homemade championship belt and doing kung fu dance moves. His antics were silly but fun, and provided a visual element for a stage show that otherwise consisted mostly of MCs standing still and rapping. I'm not sure if Black Liquid could ever really get an indie/punk crowd all that hyped up, more's the pity, but I imagine that their sound and performance would go over well with a more traditional hip-hop audience.

From the wide variety of enjoyable sounds on display, to the significant, energetic crowd, to the way the entire night ran smoothly and without a hitch, this show gave me plenty of reasons to be optimistic about the current state of live music in Richmond. Sometimes it's easy to get jaded and cynical, to let yourself slip into negative thinking and start assuming the worst about every situation. But I've found that if you reserve judgment, life provides frequent arguments against cynicism. That was definitely true last Wednesday night at Strange Matter, where almost all of my cynical assumptions were proven wrong immediately.

Super Art Fight. Should it happen in RVA?

anthony — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 14:30:59 -0400

So a group in DC/BMORE created a thing called Super Art Fight and it is just like it sounds a battle between artists. I was asked to check it out to possibly bring down to Richmond. What do you think? Would this be fun to check out? Maybe we could do it at a Gallery 5. Here are a couple of videos from a past show.

Straight from the Metro Gallery on July 17th, 2010, it's a time lapse of Jamie Noguchi vs. Chris Impink at SUPER ART FIGHT 7. For more details on Super Art Fight, visit www.superartfight.com.

Next, here’s Michael Bracco vs. Bryan Prindiville!

DAILY RECORD: Masshysteri

Andrew — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 14:25:23 -0400

Masshysteri - Masshysteri (Feral Ward)

Umea, Sweden’s Masshysteri have never been able to live down their influences. Their previous releases all wore the same few reference points proudly on their sleeves: the drive of the Wipers, the male/female vocal harmonies of Dead Moon (though unlike Dead Moon, Masshysteri’s were on key), and the propulsive twang of surf music. They haven’t disavowed anything on their newest release, but Masshysteri has synthesized those elements more thoroughly than ever before, rendering each component of their sound a true influence, rather than just a record review reference point.

The album places a strong emphasis on dualities. Songs like “Beskjutna” and “Vintern” demonstrate a solidly executed balance between stripped-down production and tightly executed harmonies. The aforementioned decades-old influences coalesce into a sound that the band has made very much their own. The instrumentation derives its power from a simple guitar/bass/drums lineup but is complemented nicely with organ and saxophone touches on songs like “Dom Kan Inte Hora Musiken” and “Masshysteri Del Tva.” Even the album art balances uber-punk grainy photos and typewriter-font lyrics with images of the attractive young Swedes themselves. And most notably, the songwriting balances piss-and-vinegar energy with a melodic sense that leaves each song eerily familiar but utterly new. Any listeners who speak enough Swedish to decipher the lyrics would likely be able to sing along with every song before their first listen is complete.

And on that note, non-native English speaking bands who sing in their native language have always held a soft spot for me, even when I can’t understand a single word they sing. So many artists around the world opt for English in hopes of more universal acceptance, which can lead to awkward phrasing and can sell short a lyricist’s ability to express him or herself as fully as he or she would be able in a more familiar tongue. There are, of course, exceptions to this, but Masshysteri’s rejection of the stilted English of members’ previous band The Vicious has proven an advantage, especially on this most recent album. While neither vocalist is a virtuoso by any stretch of the imagination (it’s punk – they’re not supposed to be), there is a vocal dexterity present on the album that adds immeasurable depth to the already-impressive melodic capabilities of the band. My one complaint – and this may seem slightly hypocritical considering my earlier point – is that I wish there were translations provided. Everything else about this album is so killer, I can only imagine I’d like the lyrics.

Any fan of stripped-down garagey punk that’s derived from the past but doesn’t live in it would be well-advised to check out Masshysteri. Their newest album demonstrates the extent to which they have honed each of their many strengths, reconfiguring rather than regurgitating influences and crafting songs which will lodge themselves firmly into the head of any listener, regardless of whether or not he or she can understand the lyrics.

MIXTAPE: DJ RNS, 'The BMORE Electro'

anthony — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 14:19:05 -0400

More great music from our boy DJ RNS. Check it.

Track List:
Drake -Find Your Love (DJ Style Bmore Remix)
DJ Fade - Scratchin Me Up
La Roux - Bulletproof (Dj K. Millz Bmore Remix)
La Roux - Bulletproof (Glasnost Remix)
Lil Jon Feat. 3Oh3 - Hey
Clinton Sparks Feat. DJ Class - Favorite DJ (BCC Remix)
Drake - Over/Go Insane (Larrikin Bmore Remix)
Mike Posner - Cooler Than Me (DJ Jonty Bmore Remix)
Usher Ft. Will.I.Am - OMG DJ Booman (Bmore Original Remix)
David Guetta Feat Fergie, LMFAO, Chris Willis - Gettin Over
Sleigh Bells - A/B Machines (French Horn Rebellion Remix)
Timbaland Feat Katy Perry - If We Ever Meet Again (Chew Fu Remix)
Tiesto - Louder Than Boom - Bart B More Remix
Lil Jon Feat. Pitbull - Work It Out
Ultimate - Its My Birthday
Usher Feat. Pitbull - DJ Got Us Fallin In Love (DJ Kue Remix)
LAX - Singin With Another (ELSTAR Remix)
Jason Derulo - Ridin' Solo (Justin Michael & Kemel Club Mix)
Jason Derulo - Ridin' Solo (Jump Smokers Remix)
Christina Aguilera - Not Myself Tonight (Laidback Luke Radio Edit)
Ne-Yo - Beautiful Monster (Mark Roberts Rmx)
Lady Gaga - Monster (DJ Kue Remix)
Katy Perry Feat Snoop - California Girls (Mikael Wills Remix)
Deadmau5 Feat Rob Swire - Ghosts N Stuff
Cullen - Easily Impressed (Calling In Sick Remix)
Black Eyed Peas - Rock That Body
Diddy Feat. TI - Hello Good Morning (Disco Fries Remix)
Ke$ha - Your Love Is My Drug
Taio Cruz - Dynamite
B.O.B. - Airplanes (DJ Megaman & Panic City Remix)
Taio Cruz Feat. Ke$ha - Dirty Picture

DOWNLOAD LINK www.mediafire.com/?w16ihha1mex2mcq

DJ RNS
www.DJRNS.com

DJ RNS aka Manotti da Vinci - Just $hut UP and DANCE Mix
http://soundcloud.com/djrns/dj-rns-aka-manotti-da-vinci-just-hut-up-and-dance-mix

MIXTAPE: Grin

anthony — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 14:15:44 -0400

Some new music for you this afternoon. Really lovely indie stuff.

ghosts (laura marling)
in our talons (bowerbirds)
inni mer (sigur ros)
disney's ice parade (ballboy)
just like honey (headless heroes)
i wish that I could see you soon (herman dune)
integration (dengue fever)
what makes the cherry red (christine fellows)

DOWNLOAD LINK www.housepress.org/grin.zip

RVA NO.2 : PUNCHLINE creator Pete Humes talks independent media and where its all going.

anthony — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 10:41:25 -0400

In August of 2002 I moved into a dorm on Monroe Park. An incoming freshman at VCU, I remember thinking this place looks like a fucking wasteland as my parent’s car passed through an apparently inexplicable alternating current of historic urban mansions and dilapidated tenements. The city looked dirty and abandoned, like a pair of cheap high heeled shoes you’d see in the gutter on Saturday morning. I couldn’t imagine anything worthwhile actually happening in such a desolate landscape, one that seemed populated entirely by old-money gentry, bums, and college kids.

A print journalism major (for a minute), I went straight for a copy of the school paper, only to find some glorified newsletter that made my high school paper look professional.

One day and a bad frat party later I was walking to the dining hall for the first time, and stopped at a newspaper box. It wasn’t an especially holy moment. The box wasn’t some shimmering beacon of hope, beckoning like fate from the sidewalk that twisted around the cathedral in front of Shafer Court, and I wasn’t mysteriously awakened by the sensation of the inky newsprint in my hands. But I did get the feeling that there was something I had overlooked my first, hastily judgmental appraisals of Richmond.

Punchline had an immediately apparent character, one that seemed radically unique, irreverent yet with discernible local pride, and possessed a voice that spoke as though it never considered existing anywhere else. And it was damn funny. I first fell in love with Richmond’s rooftops and alleyways, but I got the impression that there might be something here worth loving while reading Punchline.

Four months later I was an editorial intern, operating under some Almost Famous induced delusion of imminent renown, writing art review blurbs from press releases while the office whirled in chaotic routine around me.

Three months after that, Punchline went out of print. It had run from 1997 to 2003, and in that time grown to embody and embolden the vaguely subterranean stirrings of an inertial creative class that is coming to define Richmond today.

Now, over seven years later, I find myself in the backyard of a baller-worthy house in Northside, siting in remarkably comfortable lawn furniture across from founder and editor of Punchline, Pete Humes. Pete lights a cigar and leans over the small patio table between us, takes a sip of coffee, and looks out into the dusk for a minute.

Actually the main inspiration was a paper in Richmond that was around for a little while called the Richmond Funny Paper. It was around in the mid nineties, and this guy out of Charlottesville did it. It was just a tabloid that ran syndicated cartoons, and I illustrated covers for it.

The paper went out of print and Pete began designing onscreen ads for the Byrd Theatre. After a few talks with Duane Nelson, who was running the theater at the time, the two decided to attempt their own publication.

I told him we could definitely make money from the first day. I didn’t know shit. But I just really wanted to do something different. And I tried to get all the things lined up and he was like “well, if you can sell the ads, you can do it.” So I went out with my little book and backpack and tried to sell something that didn’t exist yet to these people, and most of them weren’t buyin it.

But a few did, and after some wavering, they began producing a monthly cartoon paper.

When it first started out, you could see in the first few issues, it was really like this one man show, where I was sifting through all these comics, and I would just pick out which comics I thought were funny and put them in. Or I would run humorous stories that I thought were funny. I drew all the covers, or designed the covers. So I set the tone, but then as more people became involved, it really just took off, and took on this life of its own. And I think looking back at the whole run, that’s what defined its success.

We did that monthly for about six months, six or seven, and then it just sort of morphed into this, as more people came on board, it became like a weekly paper kind of thing, kind of inspired by The Onion and The Stranger in Seattle.

With Nelson keeping the project afloat, supplementing what costs weren’t covered by advertising, Punchline began to attract the attention of like-minded creatives in Richmond. One such contributer was Chris O’Keefe, who initially came onboard as an ad salesperson. O’Keefe was a driving force in the evolutionary shift of the publication towards a broader, more community-oriented format. Heavily influenced by City Paper, his push for the inclusion of articles and comprehensive band listings was the catalyst for Punchline to begin fulfilling its own unseen potential.

So it just kinda warped from there, and eventually another big push came with John Goldberg, he was the graphic designer. He got involved and took the look of it up a hundred notches from me just throwing shit together. He put a real signature design on it, put a lot of his voice into it, and we just started building up steam, selling more ads. And we eventually went from monthly to bi-weekly, we took that jump, and then we went to weekly in ‘99. But it was just a group of people getting together, no fuckin idea what they were doing, and just going with it.

Pete’s words vibrate with personal relevance, and not because I get the sense they were lost in an unfamiliar world they had inadequately prepared themselves for, but because he seemed to impart a sense of dedicated vision, of an unwavering belief that there was somewhere to go and they would sure as shit get there. Even if they weren’t quite sure where that place was.

I think all those other things sort of laid the groundwork, Throttle and Caffeine [magazines], and the music scene, it was all there, it was all fertile. I don’t think we pulled off any great miracle. We came around and we were like “oh look at all this shit in the soil.” It made it ripe for planting. And I think the fact that we were so open-doors, we let a lot of different voices come in, and we were open to a lot of stuff. I wanted it to be reflective of everything that was going on.

Richmond has a habit of bitching about its own insufficiency, like an infant unable to change its own shitty diaper. But sentiments of inadequate cultural vibrancy in Richmond today can’t hold the bug-repellant candle on the table up to the esoteric state of local culture when Punchline adopted the responsibility for mining it.

But I can remember it was very, very hard to find.... you had to look for the scenes. You had to look for the clubs, it seems like now it’s just everywhere. We would have lost our minds if the National was around. But in terms of the acts being in town, to me it’s phenomenal. But it can go either way. Because then it was harder to find things going on, but in a way it was also more interesting when they did go on, because you had to fight. I don’t know if that makes sense. The amount of stuff that had to come together for the New Year’s Eve thing to have ever happened is incredible to me too. But stuff like that, right place, right time, everybody wants something to happen, but it’s always Richmond, so there’s always something that will fuck it up, or twist it up.

And Punchline wasn’t exempt from the notorious resistance of our fair metropolis to the establishment of a steady, well reinforced foundation for the support of its creative citizenry. Culture in Richmond travels through time in much the same way as that first car ride into the city passed through the trappings of affluence and poverty. Waves build and crash, these asphalt shores are always wet with the residue of collapsed movements, dismantled designs, the scattered breath of something that was sure it would never run out of air.

I mean at the time, we really hit on something. But the people, and I don’t mean to repeat myself, but having some distance from it, looking back, it’s all these people that added to it. Jeyon Falsini, he’s booking shows in Charlottesville right now, and he’s the kinda guy who just came in and worked his ass off for free. We drove around town and distributed the paper in his Trooper every Thursday with these dirty papers until the fuckin thing blew up one day. And he compiled all the club listings, and we tried to get everybody in. The Midway Lounge and every fuckin open mic and jazz place, he was adamant about getting everybody in. But that’s the type of thing that kept us afloat, all these people that came in at the right time.

It was this serendipitous confluence of forces, the right moment, the right people with the kind of vision necessary to recognize and act upon it, that birthed Punchline, which in turn set in motion the social machinery of growth and change that can only run on a certain type of elusive youthful energy, the uncommon inspiration that radiates from every formidable artistic, political, and cultural movement.

The freedom is amazing. The freedom of doing that for yourself, and knowing that that issue, and that thing, is the most important thing. I miss the all nighters. I would just stay, and I watched the sun come up so many times. And I’m not saying that’s because we were working so hard, we usually left stuff to the last minute, but it was a lot of fun. And I think we could only do that in that specific time of our lives.

I’m married, Liz and I are married and we have kids, and me doing that is not possible now. But when you’re out and you put an issue to bed at 1 am and go hit last call, drink too much, come back in hungover and distribute the papers, that was fun. But I think RVA has picked up the reigns beautifully, and it seems perfectly natural. And I don’t even want to say passing the baton, because I didn’t, I dropped the fucking baton. But there’s gotta be a place for that, especially in this town.

And in the current economic climate, those are some slippery reigns. We’ve seen a dramatic shift towards immediately digestible soundbites, and a profound decommodification of information. The true journalist, at least in any professional sense, is fast becoming an endangered species. The desire for physically tangible, reputable sources for news and entertainment has been replaced by the instant gratification and rapid accessibility of free internet sources, often provided by the general population casually, as on Twitter and Facebook.

It’s like the great American fast food movement, but with cheap and easy words and images instead of victuals purposed to be convenient rather than nourishing and well made. And in a way it’s good; it empowers the average person to partake in a larger dialog, to feel, and actually be, heard more loudly than ever before, just as eliminating the mealtime ritual had the benefit of allowing people to spend more time on productivity and recreation.

But just as a popular weariness of shitty, unhealthy eating habits has given rise to the slow food and locavore movements with their emphasis on gourmet quality, sustainability, and care in preparation, I have a theory that we’re heading towards an equitable shift in the consumption of information. No, Twitter isn’t going anywhere and neither is Burger King, and I don’t want them to, but eventually people are going to ache for the well-crafted writing, high quality design, and physical presence of actual news and entertainment publications. A movement of well cultivated literary insights, of technically sound images rather than the microwave immediacy of camera phones. At least I fucking hope so.

Either way, certain things have their moment, and if it’s possible that we’re now approaching a renewed collective interest in print media, Punchline was fighting for survival when the rest of the world was beginning to pull away from traditional sources of information, and at the same time Richmond seemed to be stuck in one of its characteristic lulls.

Richmond has this weird roller coaster history. Stuff is here for you and then it’s gone, and then it’s here and then it’s gone, and we were begging for so long for something to come around and just stay, just stick around. And I guess that’s just the way Richmond is going to be. Peaks and valleys.

As with any independent publication, Punchline relied on the culture it documented and perpetuated as much as it did on its own balance of business and, as Pete (and countless significant others of RVA Magazine staff) referred to it, clubhouse. You have to balance out the shit pay with a casual approach, the casual attitude with solid business practices.

Part of the reason that we stopped, is we were really tired. We were tired and the money issues caught up with us, and we couldn’t fight for that anymore. Regret wise, I really don’t have any. It was great fun, and I love the fact that it marks this period of Richmond. I’m really, really proud of that, and it was a blast to be a part of that. But you know, aside from when people don’t have you on the list, it’s really sort of invigorating to be backstage in the city, where you’re like, “I’m writing about this.” Or “I’m getting behind this, I’m going to figure this out and present it to people.” And you’re sort of backstage, while the show is going on. So we liked that a lot.

When Punchline closed its doors it was between issues, so there was no formal farewell. One week it was cranking out papers, the next their boxes sat empty. I didn’t keep in touch with anyone from Punchline, but years later I heard that Pete was taking the Editor-in-Chief position with a Media General “alt-weekly” called Brick. Ever wary of corporate approximations of indie culture, I was nevertheless excited to see what would come of the magazine with him at the helm. But it became immediately apparent that something essential was missing from Brick, and that no matter how much talent it attracted, it could never be the thing it aspired to. Pete didn’t stick around long, and the magazine went out of print unceremoniously, to nobody’s great surprise.

Yeah, I can’t believe it wasn’t gone... and I’m not saying because of me, but it wasn’t working for them from fuckin day 1, so I can’t believe it lasted so long. But I think the newspaper is going to die out. Because what happens is, you just need to be relevant, you need to be unique, you need to be your own voice, and there was nobody that had that vision for that thing. What little vision I had while I was there, because my mind and my heart wasn’t in it, you know, I just did it because I had a big ego, and I was like “I can fuckin do this again.” But Liz was pregnant, I was older, I wasn’t going out, I didn’t know shit, I didn’t feel like staying up all night to put this thing together. So that just sort of fell apart. But there was no vision for it after I left. There was nobody picking up the reigns. You guys had Tony starting it from the beginning, who’s got this “I’ll fuckin die for this thing,” attitude, and you absolutely need that. And I think that when a publication of any kind loses that focus and that drive, it’s just a matter of time.

With the evolution of information technology destabilizing the homogeneous, conservative juggernaut of corporate news institutions, the void left is a rare opportunity for the Punchlines of today (and I’m not just referring to RVA Magazine here) to rise into prominence. If the major daily paper is unsustainable and low in demand, and the Twitter feeds and blogosphere are insufficient, what’s left is to channel the collective consciousness represented by the internet’s marketplace of ideas into periodical art, something more connected and accessible to the community than the Times-Dispatch, something more focused, radically identifiable, and passionately cultivated than a hashtag search.

It’s kinda crazy for anybody to think about doing it. I hate the fact that there’s 40, 50 free pubs every restaurant you walk into, it just becomes trash. And it’s almost like people create these things to hold up advertising, and there’s nothing in them. That’s kind of frustrating. I would like to see more sort of coalescing of stuff online. I really like what RVA News has done, bringing these people together, but there’s still like a million voices out there, and I think someone coming up with a strong online presence would be great.

But the tangible stuff, there’s always a spot for that, especially people like me are going to be getting older, or we are getting older, we still have a fond memory of that stuff, and we want to see something. That’s what always blew me away, people always saved Punchlines and collected them like little pieces of art, and I liked that, because we put it together like it was a piece of art, for the most part, as best we could. So I don’t know, I’d like to always see something tangible. It seems like there’s so much, besides RVA News and RVA Magazine, there’s a lot of fractured stuff going on, and maybe people could realize that there’s strength in coming together. A couple people that can be really strong ringleaders to create these scenes. Maybe we need that, maybe we need more sort of leaders, cultural leaders in the city that can bring that stuff together.

Pete describes Punchline as being something of a middle finger to STYLE Weekly, and it makes sense for a thing like Punchline to grow out of a certain discontent for what’s available and accepted. So long as there are mainstream publications content to scrape the easy cream from the top of the Richmond scene and feed it to the mild interests of passive consumers, there will be alternative publications diving deep to find the rest, and bring it to the hands of the insatiable, the restless and impassioned, to the makers and dreamers, and to help create the sense of unity and momentum necessary for them to make something more.

And maybe that’s the most important aspect of putting together a magazine in a place like Richmond; not some egoistic showcasing of individual talent, but the building of not only the community being documented, but also amongst the documenters.

Don’t try to please everybody, you know? And that sounds corny as shit, but enjoy yourself, write the things that you want to read, tell the jokes that you laugh at, cover the bands that you like, and if you’re not crazy, people will follow, or you’ll attract people that want the same thing. Surround yourself with good people. That right there is the fucking key. If you want to do something, don’t do it all yourself. There are plenty of people. Even with Brick, we went out with our hands open and said “we need covers, we work for a major paper, but they’re not giving us any money. We can give you this, will you do a cover for us?” And we had some illustrators that won awards for doing their stuff. So you make yourself look better by surrounding yourself with really good, passionate people. Don’t do it yourself.

Richmond is a medium, the unfired clay of an ancient and haunted sculpture of distorted ghosts and undeveloped visions. It is an exhausted and tireless landscape caught between the echoes of long dead ideals and the stifled voice of incubating potential. There is an energy always threatening to wane, an undulating capacity for stagnation just below the restless surface of a building tide. And there’s something in this that makes independent media profoundly important, both as a record of what’s happening, and a catalyst to perpetuate it, and, particularly in Richmond, for the use of a traditional medium in the creation of something unconventional.

by Preston S. Duncan
You can read old issues of Punchline at www.lestercat.net/punchline

This article was pulled from the newest issue of RVA Magazine. To read more from the issue CLICK HERE.

Ben Keys & Jacobe Noonan

anthony — Sun, 29 Aug 2010 16:34:07 -0400

The newest show hanging at J. Fergeson Gallery.

www.jfergesongallery.com

Were you here? BRAIN DRAIN August 2010

anthony — Sun, 29 Aug 2010 15:09:08 -0400

Last night was a blast. So much so I cant think of anything else to write about it cause my head is full of cobwebs. For those that shared in the madness, here is a selection of photos from Todd Raviotta. Are you in there somewhere?

Find the whole set HERE

Tesco Vee Presents Touch And Go

Andrew — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 19:21:13 -0400

Tesco Vee is probably best known as the lead vocalist in the long-running, hilariously controversial anti-PC punk band The Meatmen. However, while he will be playing some music during his visit to Richmond on Monday, for once, music is not the main purpose of his visit. No, Tesco is on tour supporting a reissue of his original claim to fame: the complete archives of Touch And Go fanzine. Most people only know of Touch And Go as one of the best and longest-running independent record labels in the American punk/hardcore/alternative rock scene. Few are aware of the fact that the record label was merely an offshoot of the zine that started it all. Bazillion Points is hoping to correct this lapse in awareness with their recent reissue of all 22 issues of Touch And Go in one gigantic volume, and it is this hefty tome that Tesco Vee comes to Richmond to support. To that end, he'll be appearing at Chop Suey Books in Carytown from 6 to 8 PM on Monday for a signing and discussion.

Touch And Go: The Complete Hardcore Punk Zine 79-83 runs to nearly 550 pages and includes a great deal besides reprints of the original zines. A collection of introductory essays--from Vee, zine co-author Dave Stimson, book editor Steve Miller (former vocalist for early Touch And Go signees The Fix), former Necros bassist Corey Rusk (who took over the Touch And Go record label in the early 80s and has run it ever since), Negative Approach vocalist John Brannon, Ian MacKaye, Henry Rollins, and many other luminaries of American hardcore punk in the 80s and beyond--makes clear just how important Touch And Go was to the development of the American hardcore scene.

For two and a half years, between November 1979 and May 1982, Tesco and DS (as Stimson was referred to in the zine) cranked out issues of Touch and Go on a bimonthly schedule, sometimes even managing to release one each month. At the end of its first 30 months of existence, Touch And Go had published 19 issues. However, just before the end of this incredible run, Tesco Vee moved from East Lansing, Michigan to Washington, DC. He released a few more issues from the nation's capital without the involvement of Stimson, but by the end of 1983, Touch And Go had ceased to exist as a fanzine. So much had happened over this short period of time, though, that despite its short life, Touch And Go is an indispensable resource to all who are interested in understanding the history and evolution of hardcore, punk, and underground music over the course of the past 30 years.

Reading through the magazine now, it's hard to credit the writing with being good in any conventional sense. Tesco's erstwhile job as a grade-school teacher allowed him easy access to cheap photocopies, but didn't necessarily improve his writing skills. However, both he and DS were so inflamed with passion for the new sounds they were constantly discovering that this passion makes their typewritten rambles compulsively readable, even if their grammar is not perfect. Early issues make clear that, at the dawn of the 80s, Michigan was isolated enough from the punk scenes that existed in America (mostly on the coasts, far from Touch And Go's midwestern homebase) to leave Touch And Go's editors feeling like lone voices crying out in the wildnerness, ignored and scorned by all who heard them. DS's rants about the weak, deceptively promoted "New Wave" radio shows airing on Michigan FM rock stations at the time are classic examples of tilting at windmills, and it'd surprise me to learn that the FM DJs he bemoans were even aware of his frustrations. And yet, if they weren't hearing what Touch And Go had to say, others did, and as early as the second issue, T&G were receiving fan letters and promotional copies of independently pressed records. They printed the letters and reviewed the records with great enthusiasm, even if that enthusiasm was directed toward condemnation; indeed, the poison pen skills of both Tesco and DS were some of the most noteworthy elements of T&G's earliest issues.

Another element that is far more noteworthy in retrospect is the wide variety of sounds that were reviewed alongside each other and with equal interest. In our modern estimation, it often seems that the New Wave scene of the early 80s and the American hardcore scene of the same era had nothing to do with each other. And yet, here in Touch And Go, we find rave reviews of bands like Black Flag and The Avengers pasted right alongside equally positive reviews of Echo And The Bunnymen, Psychedelic Furs, The Cure, even U2. Sounds that seem miles away from each other to us now were lumped together in the minds of Touch And Go's editors in the early 80s. What they were seeking was not a particular style, but anything new and fresh, anything that challenged the boring corporate rock hegemony that had settled over the FM airwaves of the era, burying frustrated punks in a morass of Styx, Supertramp, REO Speedwagon, and other worthless garbage. Anything that could be an antidote to that frustration was welcomed by Tesco and DS, whether it was Negative Approach, Public Image Ltd, or The Specials (all of whom graced the cover of Touch And Go at one time or another).

As you work your way through this chronological archive of Touch And Go, a theme slowly starts to emerge. By the time the magazine entered its second year of existence, a scene was slowly coalescing around them, not just in the tiny college town of East Lansing but in America as a whole. Networks were being formed, as Tesco and DS formed local bonds with Detroit's Negative Approach and the Toledo-area crew of high school kids that would eventually become the Necros. Through record-trading, they also made contacts with other pockets of hardcore/punk-related activity around the country, from the Dischord crew on the East Coast to Bad Religion and the Circle Jerks on the West. Where the content of the early issues mostly consisted of reviews, and a good many of those focused on bands from overseas, later issues were filled with interviews with American bands, interspersed with first-person accounts of now-historical events. Issue #14 contains a live review by Necros vocalist Barry Henssler, in which he talks about going with some friends from DC to see Black Flag play in New York. He mentions Henry from SOA singing "Clocked In" with the band, which shocked me the first time I read it, as I realized that he was mentioning the incident which directly led to Henry Rollins joining Black Flag. In issue #17, Tesco Vee tells his version of the events that went down in history as the "Fear SNL riot." Tesco blames the incident on the NY punks in attendance, whom he describes as "fuckheads that should eat my dung and go die downwind," calling out members of the Cro-Mags by name in the process. The trademark Touch And Go vitriol is no longer just directed against unresponsive institutions barely aware of the zine's existence--now it's being aimed at punks on the same level of the underground as Tesco himself, and the juicy drama that results is fascinating even at the remove of nearly 30 years.

Less controversial but just as interesting are interviews from the period, which capture both the famous and the forgotten at early levels of their musical and philosophical development. In an interview in Touch And Go #15, Ian MacKaye describes the way the early development of the DC hardcore scene happened in complete isolation. "We [Teen Idles] played fast as shit, totally noise. Not like bullshit noise, but songs with a really rough edge. Alec [Ian's brother, then singing in The Untouchables] was just crazy. He did the wildest shit you could imagine. He was doing stage dives and fucking himself up. All of this was happening before we'd heard any of the LA stuff. The first band we heard from LA was Black Flag and I thought, 'This is really great--a little slow, but really great'." The Misfits interview in issue #16 features plenty of hilarious bickering between Glenn Danzig and drummer Arthur Googy, who was only a few months from being kicked out of the band. At one point Glenn tells the interviewer that their new album (Walk Among Us) would have 13 songs on it. "It wasn't planned, though," Googy chimes in, to which Glenn responds, "Bullshit it wasn't planned!" Later in the interview Danzig gives the address for the Misfits Fiend Club and says that fans should cut the heads off any dead animals they find and mail them to him. You want to believe that he's joking, but the way he words the comment leaves plenty of room for doubt.

Not everything reprinted in the Touch And Go book is essential reading; some of it is silly, and some is bad enough to be totally pointless. However, it's good to have the entire archive preserved, and it'll certainly make a worthwhile addition to the library of any punkhouse. Like many zines, it'll probably end up on the back of the toilet, though its weight and size may make it hard to keep balanced. It's certainly not the sort of book that you can read one-handed (though there are enough random pictures of porn stars scattered throughout its pages that you may be tempted to try).

In addition to Tesco Vee's signing and discussion at Chop Suey on Monday, he will also be performing with his band, Tesco Vee's Hate Police, at Banditos after the signing. The show starts at 8 PM, and Point Blank and Bloody Crackdown are also on the bill. Like The Meatmen, the Hate Police focus their vitriol on a variety of controversial subjects, and since the currently-active incarnation of the Hate Police split their set between Meatmen and Hate Police tunes, there's a good chance you'll get to hear all of your un-PC faves--"Crippled Children Suck," "Toolin' For Anus," "Vegetarian On A Sitck," etc.--in a single loud, snotty performance. The book, the signing, and the performance all promise to be wildly entertaining, and you'd be ill-advised to miss out on any of them.

Chop Suey Books is located at 2913 W. Cary St. in Carytown. For more information, call (804)422-8066.
Banditos Burrito Lounge is located at 2905 Patterson Ave., two blocks west of Boulevard. For more information, call (804)354-9999.

SHOW REVIEW: The Protomen

Andrew — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 14:00:33 -0400

The Protomen, Makeup And Vanity Set, and Craptain Jack And The Shmees
August 13 at Plaza Bowl

Plaza Bowl is an unlikely place for the fight that will determine mankind’s future. But last Friday, there they were: Richmond’s army, full of piss and vinegar, and just itching for a fight. When the Protomen came out, suited up and armed to the teeth, they were ready to deliver. “Warriors of Richmond! Are you going to FIGHT with us this evening?!” Said the robot in the jumpsuit. The crowd was ready. But first, there were the pirates, and then a ninja DJ to contend with. That was the scene Friday the 13th, when Plaza Bowl and everyone in it enlisted for the fight of their lives along with Craptain Jack and the Shmees, Makeup and Vanity Set, and The Protomen.

Lit by the flickering lights lining Plaza Bowl’s bowling lanes, Craptain Jack’s blue-and-red petticoat was dyed different shades of neon as he and his band The Shmees began their set. Playing fun, energetic rock that’s equal parts rum and Ramones, Craptain Jack and his crew can best be described as “pirate punks,” and they commit to their role, right down to the buckles on their shoes and the drunken seagull on the drums. “I didn’t know it was Halloween!” Yelled one Plaza Bowl employee with a laugh.

With songs like "Raining Skulls," "Savage Caviar," and "Blackfin the Shark" (about a man-eating shark, of course), it’s plain to see Craptain Jack and the Shmees laughing right along with the rest of us. As their set progressed from one punk sea shanty to the next, the small audience on Plaza Bowl’s dancefloor grew larger and larger. While it was still humble—it seemed like most were reserving their energy for The Protomen, or at least their next game of duckpin bowling—the audience was won over by the easy, drunken charm of the band, and their loose, funny stage presence. “This song’s about me, so I like it a lot, and I know you will, too,” said Jack before launching into "I Am The Craptain."

With a fun, energetic stage character that fits in perfectly with the seagull drummer and the skeleton bass player behind him, Craptain Jack is like if Axl Rose had more of a sense of humor. Between those high notes and the impromptu pirate sword duel that broke out when a fan jumped the stage, the good Craptain and his loyal Shmees proved themselves ready for the fight to come.

Eventually, the pirate punks quit the stage and hit the bar for some chilled grog, but it wasn’t quiet in Plaza Bowl for long. “Get sassy as fuck, Richmond!”

Makeup and Vanity Set, a robber-masked ninja DJ from Nashville, Tennessee, took Plaza Bowl’s reins and traded everybody’s peg legs for dancing shoes. Dressed in black and surrounded on all sides by duckpin bowling and flashing neon, Makeup and Vanity Set kept the surreal fun of the night going strong.

“We all need to be friendly, and we all need to be OK with dancing,” he said, clutching his mic with leather, fingerless gloves. “OK. Let’s do this.”

While it might have been slow-going at first, Makeup and Vanity Set’s enthusiasm and smart, funny charm soon won over the ever-growing crowd. In between jokes about Plaza Bowl’s not-so-scenic location and stories about duckpin bowling with the Protomen, he delivered one sassy dance party soundtrack after the next. With a sound that’s at times like an 8-bit rave at Mario’s house paired with a steady, lively, heavy foot-stomping rhythm, it’s no wonder that Makeup and Vanity Set can so easily turn wallflowers into stars who before they know it are leading a dance line around their local bowling alley.

But as much style and obvious chops as our man behind the tables had, the man up front deserves more than an honorable mention. Makeup and Vanity Set may have provided the motion, but his hype-man, Kilroy, provided the motivation. Armed with a mic, a moustache, and a mohawk (the deadly triple-M threat), Kilroy helped everyone in the crowd lose their cold feet and commit to Makeup and Vanity Set’s polished and powerful beats. Looming above and behind the slick ink stain of the DJ, Kilroy made a lively, colorful addition to the set, and seemed to fit right in with the bizarre backdrop around him. With the crowd closed in tight, you’d have to work your eyes to pick out the DJ and his energetic hype-man. But between the pumping fists, the occasional Protomen fan in costume, and the changing neon of the bowling lanes around them, there they were, working together to make that next dance line. And when the guy leading that dance line is 6’2” and wearing a horse mask, you know it’s been a good show. After a sight like that, after a night of pirates and ninja DJ’s and skeletons and dancing, shouting mohawks, what else could be missing but robots?

The energy, excitement, and numbers at Plaza Bowl had been growing with each act, and by the end of the night the crowd was ready and waiting for The Protomen to take the stage. While the posters might have said “The Protomen vs. Craptain Jack,” it was plain to see whose army this really was. You have to admire any band that alters their actual live drum set to sound like a drum machine, and as the band filed onto the stage to a strong, 8-bit military cadence, you could feel the excitement in the small, but devoted crowd rise.

“We are your heroes! We are your salvation! We are your hope! We are The Protomen!” With that rallying cry, the crowd started moving and the band launched into "Unrest in the House of Light," the third song from their breakout 2005 self-titled album. The song begins with a steady, mountain-music rhythm; like an old Johnny Cash song played by a robot. By the time the crescendo in their next song, "The Will of One," came charging down with all the weight of the band’s synthesizers, guitars, drums/drum machines, and Megaman helmets behind it, the moshing had started and the first crowd-surfer was sailing past.

You can say this for an under-attended show: at least there’s room to move. The music The Protomen make is a rock opera about Megaman; like Tommy for nerds. You wouldn’t expect it to launch Plaza Bowl into the kind of frenzy that it did, but sure enough, not a single attendee was standing still. Energy was the word of the night, and the robots from Nashville brought it in spades. The crowd and the band seemed to be feeding off each other; it was a common sight to see the band pumping their fists and shouting in time with the audience. All that moving is hard to do under a heavy Megaman helmet, with silver face paint running in your eyes, but The Protomen’s sense of fun and enthusiasm were ready, willing, and able.

The band is enormously talented, and—as the guitar player proved towards the show’s middle—can perform their sweeping rock epic crowd-surfing on their backs. At any time, you’d spot the back-up singers on keyboards or the trumpet, or the lead singer, Raul Panther (code names are a must among The Protomen), seamlessly switching from synthesizer to his acoustic guitar, a beat-up and rocked-out looking Fender, to a custom-made blaster Gatling gun arm prosthetic. As their costumes and their stage presence indicate, the band is committed to their roles, and their fans are just as committed to them. At last year’s performance, the lead singer lost his voice; this time around, a fan remembered, and surprised him with a care package just in case it happened again.

With songs as sweeping, epic, and just flat-out fun as the ones on The Protomen’s two albums, it’s easy to understand their fans’ devotion. In a little under 90 minutes, they were able to take their Megaman rock epic and turn Plaza Bowl into the biggest, greatest arcade ever. With fans like theirs, and with energy like theirs, it’s hard to understand why that arcade, with all its blinking lights and painted faces, was so far from being full last Friday night. The Protomen are definitely worth seeking out, and all the folks there from as far away as Idaho and Texas would be sure to agree. Someday our fair city will get the message. Despite the small crowd, the energy and fun of the acts at Plaza Bowl that night all point to one exciting fact: it’s only going to get better, so support your local Protoman while there’s still room on the dancefloor. After the show ended, Raul Panther and the rest of the band saluted the warriors of Richmond for coming out, and spent the rest of the night talking and laughing with fans. As they proved last Friday, The Protomen love Richmond, and hopefully next time they come around, there’ll be more of us there to love them back.

BFD 2010 :: Street Portraits (Best Friends Day Edition)

anthony — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 13:15:46 -0400

These photos were taken during and after the Andrew W.K./Municipal Waste show in a shallow puddle of mud under a bridge. I wasn’t one of the lucky thousand to get a ticket, so I set up a white background outside the show and experienced the music vicariously. Not all of the photos are of people who were at the show, but who cares? A Friday night portrait is a Friday night portrait right? To everyone who was nice enough to be nice -thank you! and if you are reading this Randy, hit me up. I know you need a new tour photographer!

by Bobby Bruderle
www.IsntABlog.com
P.S.: Thanks so much to Chris Hughes, Travis Pruit, and Anne Sturgeon for doing some party assisting.