With tracks from Bomarr, Copy, Meanest Man Contest and Roman Ruins, Designed Entropy stands as a work of art, in both the music and packaging – a piece that Gold Robot says “explores the relationship between design, structure, and humanity.”
What better way to examine the structure of a song than by breaking it down and rebuilding it via remix? Hunter was kind enough to give me a first crack at posting the Fancy Mike remix of Bomarr’s Exchanges Among Systems, a reworking that isn’t shy about introducing some low end. Turn up the bass.
I’m still on a bit of a high after seeing The National last week in Tucson and Tempe on back-to-back nights. So this new video, which serves more or less as a mini tour documentary set to an alternate version of the song Terrible Love, is already making me nostalgic for seven days ago.
Listening to Terrible Love on record, I’d never guess it would replace Mr. November as the epic, walk-through-the-audience moment of the encore. And, yet, it worked (even if the unwieldy mic cord whacked me in the neck in Tempe).
I love this video, which humanizes the band and loosens the tie a little on singer Matt Berninger’s ever-serious demeanor.
This alternate version can be found on the expanded edition of High Violet, which includes a bonus disc of unreleased songs, live tracks B-sides, etc. You know the drill: Buy album once and buy it again. It’s due out Nov. 22.
With Frightened Rabbit playing the Clubhouse in Tempe on Sunday night, I wanted to re-post this interview that originally ran in April, when the band’s Arizona date was canceled because of the volcanic ash that grounded European travel. Without further ado …
(Note: When an opportunity to interview Frightened Rabbit singer Scott Hutchison arose in advance of the band’s April 19 show in Tempe, I knew my friend Casey, the man behind the great blog Crumbler, was the man for the job. His impassioned response to Pitchfork’s review of the band’s new album is worth your time, as is his outstanding interview here.)
Scott Hutchison answers the phone in Amsterdam, which he is visiting on this day for the first time. He has come to play a show with Frightened Rabbit, the band he started as a solo act in 2003 and has since developed into one of the most compelling acts in indie rock. Amsterdam has lived up to his expectations: “Booze is a cunt,” he tweets a few minutes before I call him. “Brain no worky.” But by the time he picks up the phone he seems to have shaken the cobwebs: He is cheery and thoughtful, gamely answering questions about his band’s excellent new record, The Winter of Mixed Drinks, and the somewhat bizarre critical response it has drawn. Frightened Rabbit comes to the Clubhouse on Monday, and it’s a show well worth seeking out. Arizona was an early adopter of Frightened Rabbit; according to Hutchinson, it’s the first place that ever requested an encore.
Below Hutchinson talks about moving beyond break-up songs, creating his rap persona and being misunderstood by Pitchfork.
Crumbler: So you guys are heading to Coachella next week. Do you like playing festival shows, or do you prefer the clubs? Scott Hutchison: Well, each presents itself with a different kind of challenge and atmosphere. The big shows that you play in the afternoon, a lot of the audience might not have heard your music before. That in a way is a bit more fun. When you play in the clubs, you have an audience from the start. But when you play at an afternoon festival, that feels like more of an achievement — to win a crowd over in the space of 40 minutes. I love them both, though. They have their pros and cons.
I saw you in a particularly sweaty club in Arizona a couple years called the Rhythm Room. Midnight Organ Fight had just come out, but everyone in the pit knew all the words (see video at left), and you guys came out to play an encore. I remember you saying that you don’t usually play encores — is that still the case? The reason back then was that no one had ever called us back before. Now we do plan for it. I do remember that show — it was a surprise that people wanted to hear more.
The new video, which debuted at NME, adds more weight to this anthemic track, tugging at the heartstrings as it follows a day in the life of an elderly gentleman who is seeking some sort of companionship – until he sort of gives a middle finger to it all at the end.
Says singer Scott Hutchison: “The single itself is really about the same things that most of TWOMD focused on: a sense of isolation and the hints of madness and odd behaviour that can arise as a result of that. Like a lot of the record, I also wanted to be fairly sparse with the imagery. I hoped the listener would try fill in the blanks and walk into the song, tying bits of it together along the way. But it’s a simple premise really. A person gets a bit lost and cries for help, or cries just to be heard at all. I suppose it was also relating to what I do most days as a singer in a touring band – shout to make people listen.â€
The Loneliness and the Scream will be released as a single in the U.S. on Dec. 8.
Ten years after the release of their debut United By Fate, the dudes in Rival Schools decided to get back together and release some new material. Shot After Shot is the first taste of an album, Pedals, that is due for release in March.
Combined with the reunion of Far, this is all starting to feel like I’m opening a bizarre post-punk time capsule I’ve unearthed in my own backyard. Still, as I’ve said before, Rival Schools frontman Walter Schreifels has earned a lifetime free pass from me (mostly for the influence of Quicksand) and guitarist Ian Love was the subject of this blog’s very first Q&A.
Weirdly – or maybe not? – Shot After Shot sounds like, well, a Rival Schools song that should have come out in 2003. It could just be that Schreifels’ voice evokes a feeling of a certain time period for me, so I’m eager to hear the rest and see if the band reignites a new feeling or if 10 years is too long to make up for lost time.
A dead tour van earlier in the week had me worried that Phantogram might not make it across the country in time for Friday night’s Phoenix show at Rips Ales & Cocktails (venue change from original announcement). But the problem appears to be solved and the show will go on (with three exclamation points, no less).
Josh Carter and Sarah Barthel make up Phantogram, but the duo has added a third member for the tour – Tim Oakley (The Mathematicians) on drums, samples, and Akai MPC. Even if the debut LP, Eyelid Movies, leans a bit to the electro side of things – which typically ain’t my bag – the music is set in a foundation of beats that appeals to me. No surprise considering Barthel’s affinity for hip-hop.
It appears, God willing, our seemingly never-ending run of 100-degree days was mercifully ushered out of Arizona on Monday with some very welcome rain. Ninety degrees? Open the windows! I’m still waiting for that first chill, when I can walk our bulldog without fear of him succumbing to overheating. It’s the small things.
In the meantime, I welcome any and all signs that portend fall’s anticipated arrival. So it seems fitting to receive a new track from The Autumn Defense, the band headed by John Stirratt and Pat Sansone, who also have somewhat notable gigs as bassist and multi-instrumentalist, respectively, in Wilco.
Once Around, the group’s fourth LP, will be put out by Yep Roc on Nov. 2. Check out the first single, Back of My Mind, a warm piece of piano pop that I can envision soundtracking a cool night on the back patio – whenever that might be.
To celebrate a block of tour dates both as headliners and co-headliners (with Kurt Vile), the Soft Pack has pressed up a tour-only 7-inch, limited to 500 copies.
The group’s co-headlining run stops a day short of Kurt Vile’s scheduled Nov. 14 stop at the Trunk Space in Phoenix, so this piece of vinyl might be hard for anyone in Arizona to acquire. But the good news is the band has made the A-side, GagDad, available as a free download. The song churns for six no-frill minutes, with drummer Brian Hill grinding out the backbone of a beat to push the surf-punk action along.
So maybe Flying Lotus didn’t stroll in for Friday’s festivities at the Hidden House, but Zilla Rocca and Curly Castro still put on a ferocious show, winning over fans with a tightly prepared and professional set.
You know how, like, 89 percent of rap shows are a clusterfuck of towel-waving hype men and a ragtag set of songs? This wasn’t like that at all. Castro and Zilla hit the stage with a definite purpose. If there’s one (humbling) thing I learned hanging out with these guys for two days, it’s that I have a long way to go in keeping up with hip-hop’s rich culture – past and present. Whatever I thought I knew, they inspired me to keep digging.
And it’s hard to illustrate what I appreciate in their intensity and preparedness much better than what comes across in this video I took on my digital camera. Don’t tell me you’re not feelin’ the drop at about the 39-second mark … “There’s nine rappers I actually relate to / the rest are a waste of my time.”
I’m embarrassed that I’m late to the game (no pun intended) on Random, a Philly-born emcee/teacher who has called Phoenix home for about four years.
In 2007, Random released Mega Ran, an album inspired by the video game Mega Man, complete with 8-bit beat samples from the game. That earned him a letter (on MySpace, no less) from the game’s publisher, Capcom, that Random assumed would be a cease and desist. Quite the opposite, actually: Capcom offered him an official license. As Random told Wired in 2008, “I really thought they would be livid that I had bastardized their tunes, but they really were supportive, and I thank them for that.”
Continuing the tradition, Random (aka Mega Ran) teamed up with producer K-Murdock of Panacea and released Forever Famicom in July, a 14-track ode to the Nintendo games of our youth.
I spent countless hours on the Nintendo – mostly playing RBI Baseball and Tecmo Super Bowl (with some Double Dragon and Contra thrown in there) – so I appreciate the inherent nostalgic value here. But Mega Ran’s ability to weave clever storytelling makes it more than a trip down memory lane.
