Earth
July 5, 2007
Better Than: Sitting in your office at 2 p.m., unless your office happens to be the riverbank of a magical forest in the middle of nowhere. If so, I want a job there too.
For a band with such a heavy history as Earth –- a group worshiped for the feedback howls and quaalude drones it poured onto a couple early slabs for Sub Pop –- it’s interesting to hear the group’s transformation into such pensive instrumentals. But standing with the other head-nodders at Amoeba this afternoon for the band’s in-store appearance, the phrase “meditative metal” kept drifting through my brain.
...if he knew how we treated his MySpace page. Look at this page here. Seems like a perfectly good page, with a nice image leading to a graphic created by our esteemed Art Director, Darrick Rainey. But then click on the image. What the fuck. It's illegible. So we blogging kids are forced to improve it -- to bring you, dear reader, the content you deserve and desperately need... as you need water. Yes, you need this like you need water. Trust us. Check it out -- new, improved, legible Chris Cornell Friend Commentary (click here to see it huuuuuge):
(Click here for a slideshow of fireworks and other Independence Day-related pics.)
Mission Fireworks:
Last night, dutifully ascending to the roof to see if our continually transforming downtown skyline would prevent us from getting a good look at either one of the dual firework shows over Pier 39 (it did), we were reminded once again, in the form of a beautiful exploding flower, that the real show was at our backs. Specifically, at 21st and Florida and 21st and Bryant (if our skills at remote mapping still hold), along with many points on the streets below Harrison. This was much more than a few scattered neighborhood pops, but detailed, quite possibly even choreographed displays that had everything but smiling-face bursts, and they went on from sundown until well into July 5, with nary a police car in route. Awesome.
--Michael Leaverton
My generation's for sale,
Beats a steady job.
How much have you got?
My generation don't trust no one,
Its hard to blame,
Not even ourselves.
The thing that's real for us is: fortune and fame,
All the rest seems like work.
Its just like Diamonds
In shit.
Band of Horses, 8 at Great American Music Hall. $20.
“A lot of bands have, over time, released excellent debut albums, and they are most often praised for their technical ability or their songwriting. Band of Horses possesses both of these in spades, but what makes them truly exceptional is their gift for realizing a fully-fledged affect – in other words, a feel to their music that distinguishes it from that of any other band. Band of Horses is ethereal, otherworldly, and completely inimitable, and listening to Everything All the Time is, in the truest sense of the word, an experience.” --Delusions of Adequacy
Talkdemonic, 9 at Café Du Nord. $8.
“The same can be said of Talkdemonic's instrumental post-rock, which lays a bevy of acoustic elements over a foundation of pulsing programmed beats and modulating, soft-focus synthesizers. The duo acquiesces to this tension, cheekily dubbing their music "folktronic hop," a hybrid genre that seems to have its roots in records like Bjork's Homogenic. But, without a doubt, it's the players, not the preset laptop tracks, who lend Talkdemonic's music its emotional heft. Kevin O'Connor plays banjo, guitar, piano, and Wurlitzer on the recording, but it's his highly expressive drumming that is most memorable. When the punctuated rhythm of programmed percussion gives way to cascading cymbal crashes and spacious break beats, it's nothing short of cathartic. And viola-player Lisa Molinaro's performances ooze with feeling, as beautiful swells of strings render the need for vocals understandably dispensable.” --Pitchfork
Squirrel Nut Zippers, 8 at the Independent. $15.
“The Zippers' leaders, singers Jim Mathus and Katharine Whalen, are meticulous about their sound -- on "Ghost of Stephen Foster," you can hear Andrew Bird draw his bow across his fiddle. On retro amusements like "Suits Are Picking Up the Bill" and ballads of Billie Holiday sadness like "Low Down Man," the band and producer Mike Napolitano ensure that all instruments are allowed to live, breathe and make themselves felt in the mix. They understand that swing is like a well-prepared stew in which you taste all ingredients; they see it as a musical-sonic exploration instead of as this year's lambada. Squirrel Nut Zippers know one thing for sure: It don't mean a thing if it ain't got . . well, more than zoot suits and stogies.” --Rolling Stone
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