Urb: Warp20 at Terminal Five
Warp 20 Celebrates with Flying Lotus, Battles, & More (Review)
Posted Tuesday, September 08, 2009 @ 01:45 in Music by Jorge Hernandez
Judging by its current anniversary tour, Warp is clearly intent on taking over the world – on time. At New York’s Terminal 5 Friday night it was “Doors at 6pm, first show at 7pm,” no joke; working stiffs and chronically fashionably late be damned.
Rather than roll out stalwarts like Aphex Twin or Squarepusher the maverick label chose this Warp20 night to show off what the next twenty years might hold: acts that were still rooted in renegade electronics but increasingly mixed up with indie rock and no-school hip hop.
The punctual and funemployed caught the US debut of Australian noise-funk provocateurs Pivot. Pushing the swinging doors open, we caught LA’s DJ Flying Lotus bobbing and weaving on stage like a praying mantis, all skinny arms and head-nodding, while lights flared around him. Signs along the entrance had warned “Strobe lights will be used”, and they were. The blow-out moment came as “Parisian Goldfish” stormed the mix. For someone kicking out such brain-rattling beats, he was all charm; taking swigs of his beer, laughing with the crowd, he seemed to be loving the moment as much as anyone on the floor.
In their “only New York gig” this year, dingy post-disco brats !!! took it one step further and actually got down on the floor with the dudes in retro-frame glasses and dread-locked blondes grooving to tunes like “Hearts of Hearts”. Beatboxing headliners Battles sounded like a melodic explosion in an instrument factory, highlighting new tracks like the oddly jazz-funky “Sweetie and Shag”.
Kudos to the techs at Terminal 5 for keeping the bombastic assault in relative check. In front of the stage, our photographer said the soundwaves were actually blowing her hair back. Six hours of full-throttle dissonance could’ve easily ended in puddles of bloody earholes, but the open roof serving up burgers and empanadas was a good place to rest fried cilia. By night’s end if someone had announced Radiohead had just signed to Warp, nobody would’ve blinked. Probably not even David Byrne, who seemed politely perplexed to be getting patted down at the door on our way out. (Just in case you like a celebrity endorsement with your sycophantic predictions).
Village Voice: Pet Shop Boys, Yes!
Pet Shop Boys kicked off their US tour in NYC last night at the Hammerstein. You can read my review for the Village Voice here. Pictures on Flickr!
Flavorwire: Danny Wang @ PS1 feature
I caught up with Danny Wang when he zipped and boogied through town this summer. The first couple photos are by the awesome Anna White, not me.
- Daniel Wang: DJ, Producer, and Little Mister Sunshine
- 2:53 pm Wednesday Jul 29, 2009
- by Jorge Hernandez
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- Ghostly artist Daniel Wang, a DJ who has been namechecked in Daft Punk liner notes, was on a bus to New York City, when he texted us from his German mobile: “still in boston with family…dont want pay roaming charges.” He was scheduled to play P.S.1’s Warm Up party the next day, along with Arthur’s Landing, an Arthur Russell tribute band. Like half of the East Village, earlier in the decade Wang moved to Berlin and became an instant fixture in the ex-pat broken disco scene. His visits to the States are frequent and fleeting, but giddy and anticipated affairs.
The next day was overcast and rainy. Arriving at P.S.1 early, you might have been worried by the sparse line. Would this be the weekend when New Yorkers just gave up and stayed inside? Brennan Green, a Balihu Records artist (which Wang founded back in 1993), was massaging the early birds with some no-wave and retro pop. Slowly, the crowd grew.
And then Wang arrived, dressed in color-splashed shorts and lime Day-Glo Nikes. After a quick round of hugs, kisses and pictures, he needed a moment alone: “Just give me a minute to get my music together. I can’t really concentrate on anything else when I’m thinking about my playlist.”
Photo credit: Jorge HernandezLaying out his CDs and vinyl in what was undoubtedly some kind of theme, he stepped out from behind the boards for a quick chat and a few more pictures. “Sorry I’ve been in such a rush,” he exclaimed. “I”m always going from one thing to another.” The occasion, this time? “It was my birthday. I wanted to see my grandmother, my family. And it’s a fun party to play. I get to spin with Brennan, see some other friends. But then, I’m off again, to California tomorrow.”
Photo credit: Joel ShaughnessyA few tracks into his set, the motif he was assembling earlier became apparent. Patrick Juvet’s “I Love America.” Odyssey’s “Native New Yorker.” America’s “You Can Do Magic.” And one record that sent a certain writer up to the decks. “It’s called ‘Take Me to the Bridge’ by Vera,” Wang said, waving the record sleeve around a la Shirley Temple.
Later, the globetrotting, patriotic DJ’s DJ added, “I got my German/EU permanent visa in January 2009. I’m hoping to retire to a Greek Isle. USA — too many mixed feelings.”
Photo credit: Joel ShaughnessyWhatever those were, he kept the negative ones off the 1’s and 2’s. At one point he even hopped on stage during the theme to the Star Wars cantina and did the Charleston. It was only a few days after Michael Jackson’s passing, and a poignant ode was inevitable: “Life ain’t so bad at all, if you live it off the wall.”
The clouds may have lingered, and a stray drop may have landed in a beer or two, but by night’s end, when the sky was dark and the remaining devotees were jumping around on stage, it was clear that Danny had packed sunshine to spare.
Photo credit: Anna White
Urb.com: Nouvelle Vague Live Review
From Urb.com:
Nouvelle Vague Live Review (Filmore East @ Irving Plaza NYC 6/17/2009)
Posted Monday, June 22, 2009 @ 09:01 in Music by Jorge Hernandez
In some circles, Nouvelle Vague would be heretics, likely burnt at the stake. How else to describe and dispense with a French troupe of cover lovers that turns hardcore Punk, No Wave and New Wave classics into soft-core porn Muzak? New York is not one of those circles. Here, their laissez-faire-ness with raw riffs has endeared them to the Pernod-swilling set. But if you rolled into Irving Plaza – er, “Fillmore East” – on June 17 expecting a louche cabaret you were in for a boisterous awakening.
Producers Marc Collin and Olivier Libaux along with singers Nadeah and Melanie Pain had something much more American Gothic in mind, turning the venue into a honky-tonk revival, complete with roughhousing and supernatural spasms. The opener, Talking Heads “Road to Nowhere” set a deceptively casual tone. By the time Nadeah introduced “Oublions L’Amerique” – “a song by old punks who knew nothing of your wonderful country; pretend we’re singing ‘We Love America’, Merci” – the crowd was getting rowdy. Later as the full house chanted along to Dead Kennedys’ “Too Drunk to Fuck”, Nadeah, slinking in tongues, turned into Spider Woman, climbing the walls into the balcony, an act that nearly got her removed from the venue by security, unaware that she belonged onstage.
Say quoi? Are these the same lounge lizards whose entire existence is premised on a cheeky triple-entendre on French cinema, 80’s electronica and Brazilian Bossa Nova? Yes and No. While Collin and Libaux are staples, the singers rotate. On this rare mini-tour in support of their third LP, NV3, the casting was pitch-perfect. As the musicians strummed, rattled and hummed through selections from all three albums, the singers vamped like wayward divas on the voodoo side of town. Their take on “Master and Servant” made a Depeche Mode headliner at the Grand Ole Opry seem like, you know, maybe not so crazy an idea. No matter how your fry your ‘taters, that deserves applause – and possibly a fenced-off stage. Pretty punk.
Flavorwire: Rune Lindbaek interview
- MusicExclusive Idjut Boys Interview Meanderthals Rune Lindbæk
- Exclusive: Idjut Boy and Meanderthal Rune Lindbæk Talks the Substance of Size
- 1:13 pm Tuesday May 19, 2009
- by Jorge Hernandez
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- In Norway, size matters. “The big clubs don’t do well. They try to bring ‘BIG’ names there and it doesn’t really work,” says Rune Lindbæk from his part-time flat in Berlin. “Most of the popular DJ’s on the scene – Todd Terje, Lindstrom, etc – are the dubby DJ’s and we all prefer the small clubs.” How small is small? “150 people or so. We just came back from the Ukraine, places you wouldn’t think of, but people are dedicated.”
Lindbæk, once part of Those Norwegians with pre-Royksopp Torbjorn Brundtland, is presently a third of Meanderthals, along with UK’s disco-not-disco dons Idjut Boys (Dan Tyler & Conrad McDonnel). While Meanderthals’ new record, Desire Lines, was recorded between Oslo and London, it sounds like something out of a Malibu slumber party. After the jump, we chat with Lindbæk about disco dalliances, the impossibility of taking studio albums on the road, and the aesthetics of the Pacific Coast Highway.
Lindbæk had very specific ideas about the new album. “When we started on this project, I said, ‘This record should be like the Pacific Coast Highway – something very California.’ It became a cliche in the studio – our hot crowded studio with the tiny window,”
The trio’s unglamorous confines could have been a set up for failure, considering their working styles. “As a team, we sort of prefer to play alone, DJ alone. I need to go into a zone. Doing a back to back DJ thing, I lose some concentration,” he confesses. While they managed to work things out in the studio, don’t expect Meanderthals to go globe-trotting any time soon. “We’re talking about touring; if we were going to do it, we’d need to bring out a whole studio, a massive amount of gear. What we have in mind would be like a rock setup, and I don’t think it would work in dingy basement clubs.”
With a tour uncertain and the album done, what’s an idle primitive to do? “A remix album is possible; Conrad (of Idjut Boys) is making dub versions of all the tracks on Desire Lines. I’m doing some remixes for Annie, a minimalist/Italo guy on Kompakt called Skateboard, and Dominique Leon from San Francisco. Lindstrom discovered Leon and set up StromLand records to put his stuff out. I’m going back to Oslo on the 14th to work on my next 12 inch ‘Odessa’”.
Reflecting on his homes away from home, the wayward Rune adds, “The area where I live in Berlin, I would be better off learning Turkish, I really love it. I also lived in NY. My heart is there – can you please kiss the pavement for me?” When I ask him what pavement, he says “I used to stay at Danny Wang’s apartment, next to my favorite East Village café, 7A.” By coincidence, I tell him I used to stay at Danny’s as well, and that it was going through Wang’s record collection that I realized Lindbæk had sampled Bill Withers’ “The Stuff” for “Junta Jaegar.” “It’s a great bass line, and when I heard it, I knew I wanted to use it. On the B-side of Junta, I used a sample from a 70’s rock band called Zoo.”
That single, and the album it came from, Sondag, was released by Repap, a left-field sister label to Paper Recordings, the now-defunct deep disco imprint out of Manchester, UK. Paper also released Kaminksy Park, by Those Norwegians. The album’s cover features a pile of melting vinyl, a reference to the Comiskey Park “Disco Sucks” bonfire of the late 70’s often cited as the unofficial birth of House music. “When I was living in London I spent a lot of time in record shops. And one of my best friends used to live in Manchester. So we knew about Paper and decided to send them a demo, just to see. When they called us up, we were like FUCK, YEAH!”
London is also where Rune first met Idjut Boys. “They were on to something with their underground sound long ago. I was always a fan.” But how did this Nordic nomad wind up a disco purist in the first place? “My mom liked Disco and when I heard the rhythm, I liked it too. People my age, we were the first rhythm generation of Norway, I was like a sponge – this was before Paradise Garage and NY radio. We had a radio station, state owned, they had one program for pop music and there was no club scene at all, just really shit discoteques.”
Fortunately for Oslo, those days are over. Kings of Convenience, Erlend Oye, Lindbæk and company have put their homeland on the global music map. “It’s not like we have one place that we all hang out in Oslo – it’s a slow burning scene, and discos come and go. People have been doing their thing for many years. The rest of the world is just catching up now…”
Flavorwire: Taming the Winter Music Conference Monster
Or, what I did on my winter vacation. Snippet below. Rest at Flavorpill, Earplug.
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- Like most of the snowbirds, I was at Miami’s annual Winter Music Conference for some sun, beach, dancing, and schmoozing. As often happens, my first night descended into a series of mix-ups: was Gui Boratto playing or not? Was I “sorted” at Danny Tenaglia’s marathon? Fortunately, I’d caught both of them last year, so calling it a night (especially after a two-hour flight delay) came easy.
Thursday afternoon, I headed to an early meeting with NextAid, a nonprofit organization that works with DJs, musicians, and engineers to provide sustainable solutions to problems faced by Africa’s AIDS orphans. “OM Records just adopted this building,” said director Lauren Segal, pointing to a glossy photo of a modest structure. “It could be used for anything from a school to a clinic.” Asked where she got the idea, she chirped, “On the dance floor, of course!”
Earplug #133: Girl Talk interview
The current issue of Earplug is up, featuring my interview with Gregg “Girl Talk” Gillis, and a photo by my friend, fellow DJ-lover, Anna “Detroit” White. We make a pretty good team, I think.
Feature
November 6, 2008
Girl Talk’s Copyleft Curveballs
Sampling artist puts a smiley face on Plunderphonics
Until two years ago, biomedical engineer/mashup DJ Gregg “Girl Talk” Gillis spent more time crunching data in a cubicle than stripping on stage. His sophomore CD, Night Ripper, changed all that. 2008’s Feed the Animals reflects the RIAA-baiting producer’s newfound focus: the samples are longer and the “songs” more complete, but the pace is no less frenetic. Earplug’s Jorge Hernandez caught up with Girl Talk in Manhattan to talk irregular fashions, “Moist Vagina,” and the sonic collective unconscious.
Earplug: You’re having quite a moment right now. What are you up to?
Greg Gillis: I’m working on some music with a friend of mine, Hearts of Darkness. He does weird computer stuff, and we play together as Trey Told ‘Em.
EP: You working on anything special together?
GG: We’re doing a really long Nirvana cover; it’s really far out. We got these Nirvana multi-tracks, and we’re doing “Moist Vagina” with live drums and noisy, crazy stuff.
EP: How do you get your hands on something like that?
GG: Some kid who’s into my stuff knew I was into Nirvana. His dad had access to a studio, and so they sent me a few tracks like that.
EP: Do you have free license, or are you just running with it?
GG: I want to do an official EP of remixes of all of them, because no one else has their hands on it. I want to do something interesting. We’ve just been working on this one song this week. We haven’t really rehearsed much, but the little bit that we’ve done — you can tell it’s going to be good.
EP: Are you still working your day job?
GG: No, I quit last summer. I haven’t cut my hair since I quit. That year before I quit, I played like a hundred shows, so it was getting hard to ask for vacation time. I don’t have a job, but I happen to be able to live off this, so I’m feeling lucky.
EP: The samples on Feed the Animals are longer. Are you getting in trouble? Isn’t there a time limit to samples?
GG: That’s an urban myth. It used to be under a certain amount, but they recently ruled against that. Fair Use allows you to use however long you want, as long as the work is transformative, and it doesn’t impact the artist negatively. It’s more holistic criteria. There’s a big academic and legal movement behind it, so it’s not really that big of an issue any more.
EP: A lot of the samples you use are very recognizable.
GG: Most of the a cappella samples are available for a reason: the rap ones are on B-sides and 12-inches, and the Internet, and it’s because record labels want people to do crazy stuff with it. Stuff like my music is an effective way to promote the artists. It’s a different era. Hearing the music itself doesn’t hold value; you can go hear any song for free on Soulseek. If you pay money for it, it’s because you want to invest in it. So, I feel morally solid about what I’m doing.
EP: You use Creative Commons, right?
GG: They helped us out, gave us a bunch of specific elements. I’ve actually been getting a lot of support.
EP: From whom, for example?
GG: Representative Mike Doyle spoke in favor of me and DJ Drama and mixtapes and mashups. He compared it to Paul McCartney using a Chuck Berry riff.
EP: How did you get started, gear-wise?
GG: A lot of that stuff was just like modified children’s toys, broken stuff from the Salvation Army; whatever you can find, real junk gear. There were a couple of real samplers here and there.
EP: It’s funny how all this music is rattling around in your brain, and you respond to the smallest samples.
GG: For me, it’s a blatant form of music’s influence in general. You develop these affiliations with music, and what I like to do is recontextualize it. I guess that’s why the shows get so crazy. Regardless of what you’re into, it’s all being represented.
EP: What do your parents think?
GG: They’re cool with it, but the early shows with the noise band kinda took them a minute, because we’d be up there smashing things, and they were weirded out. But this Girl Talk stuff, they really like.
EP: Your shows are notorious for getting kind of crazy — and naked. What happens to your clothes? Do they end up on eBay?
GG: I don’t know. Even when I take a sweatshirt off, people take it all — even when I don’t throw it out there. There’s a store called Gabriel Brothers in West Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Ohio. They sell mis-manufactured clothing. I buy all my sweat outfits there still — they’re like a dollar or two each. When I used to be a kid, we used to go there. It was a lot weirder then; there’d be a Miami Hurricanes shirt with a Yankees logo on the back. It’s a bit more subtle these days, but that’s where I still get everything I wear onstage.
Blank Tapes
Behind every hit record, there’s a million misses. And I don’t mean single ladies. Misses, for lack of a better word, are the anti-hits of the music business. They are those records that music geeks and DJ’s treasure, those influential one-hit wonders, or sleepers that don’t move many units, generate inches of ink or hours of press. Every genre has its lost, forgotten, overlooked heroes. They’re either eccentrics, or “before their time” or prefer to work behind the scenes, content with the respect and adulation of their peers. What these records and their creators lack in commercial success, they make up for in influence.
Dance music has its fair share of influential behind the scenes and off the radar heroes. Larry Levan, Tom Moulton, Nicky Siano, Arthur Russell all spring to mind. Among them was producer/engineer Bob Blank. In the 70’s and 80’s, his New York studio, Blank Tapes, was home to a prolific class of left-field singers, producers, vocalist and performers. His credits include one of the first disco 12” releases (Jimmy Sabater, “To Be With You”), as well as Talking Heads, Chic, Instant Funk, Kid Creole & the Coconuts, Lydia Lunch, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Ashford & Simpson, Tito Puente, Donna Summer, Sting, and Patti Smith. His wife was a former James Brown singer, and he also worked with Ronnie Spector, and Taana Gardner, of “Heartbeat” fame.
With so many avant pop stars in his pocket, it was inevitable that there would be lots of left-over tape, edits, out-takes and side projects. In 1980, Bob gathered some of his fabulous friends in the after-hours playpen that his studio had become and together they produced an album called “Aural Exciters”. Most of the songs were written by the Kid Creole & the Coconuts crew with help from James Chance of the Contortions on sax, Fonda Rae, and many others on vocals. The catchiest single is sardonically titled “Spooks in Space”; its cover features black ghosts swarming the galaxy. The track opens with a doo-wop vocal that quickly switches to a cartoon-like lilting raggae rhythm and non-sequitor vocals about an imminent funky invasion. It’s one of the most colorful entry points into the Post-Punk/No-Wave music scene that helped shape mainstream disco, pop and hip hop.
These days, Bob’s studio is apparently up in Connecticut, and as evidenced by the credits on his website, he is still quite busy, mostly licensing and producing music for various soundtracks, TV shows, and commercial jingles and making guest appearance on shows like Behind the Music and documentaries like Maestro, about the early underground disco scene in 70’s NYC. He most recently appeared in person at the premiere of the movie about Arthur Russell, “Wild Combination.” Sadly, I missed the it, but you best believe I will be trying to make contact and get an interview soon.
Michna, Magic Man
Urb magazine was the first to publish any of my scribbles after I quit Vibe and started freelancing. After a few pieces, things kind of dried up.
So when the opportunity came along to do a quick short piece for them again, I took it. The subject was Michna, an artist on Ann Arbor’s boutique Ghostly label. Apparently, this guy Michna did magic tricks and played the trombone. Whatever his gimmick, it was working – “Triple Chrome Dipped” got a lot of play via the Cartoon Network’s “Adult Swim” campaign which had previously collaborated with alt.hip hop stable Stone’s Throw. And Adrian Michna was intriguing – ethnically ambiguous and previously part of a Miami electro/bass crew, anointed by all the right hands, and the location chosen was Republic, my favorite noodle house.
On a Friday after work, it was raining heavily. I arrived early and texted Michna, who was around the corner at the photo shoot. The restaurant is notoriously loud, so we opted to have dinner, then go next door to Starbucks. A couple of hours went by quickly, and we talked a lot more than we needed to for such a short piece, but it was a good time, so we rolled with it.
The piece ran in the December 2008 issue.
a slice o’ cielo…
12. Cielo, New York
- Jorge Hernandez
Louie Vega sounds off:
“Cielo captures New York City nightlife at its finest. Perfect sound, decor, atmosphere, and a great crowd.”
Metro Mix
New York discophiles were treated to a perfect Saturday afternoon mix of art, live music and a DJ set last weekend when Metro Area and Kelley Polar performed at PS1’s Warm Up. When I mentioned it to BPM, the editor requested a hang-out with Morgan before the interview. Who am I to object? Previously, I’d also interviewed Kelley Polar, so the publicist hooked us up with stage access – free beer! If this keeps up, I’ll start looking like a mouthpiece for Environ, but when you’re talking about disco-rati like Geist, Polar and our chum Danny Wang, fuck it.
A few moments on the dance-floor, and you’ll be gushing too.Terre and I took a “trip” out to LIC to meet up with Anna, who was there to take pictures; we all pulled up to the line at the same time. Inside there was some confusion with bracelets – beer, or VIP, or both? How many stamps and plastic bands does one need?
Polar performed with a live band and strings for that full-on old-school real disco effect. Metro Area, naturally threw down a smart, sexy set that touched on all their influences – disco, new wave, R&B, Italo House.
Morgan’s new solo disc “Double Night Time” features Jeremy Greenspan of Junior Boys and will be out in October. Meanwhile, here’s some pix and flix of the boys in action. You know where to go for more.
Go West!
I‘ve already (just) mentioned All Points West a few times – did ya hear, I went?!
So instead of distant fuzzy Blackberry shots of artists on stage,here’s a few snaps of getting and being there.
Funky Space Reincarnation
This evening T came over to talk condos and brownstones and Washington Heights. I was sitting on the window sill, smoking, one leg on the fire escape, watching the sun set on The Castle where Marie Curie caught radium poisoning. There were raccoons running around on the fire escape last night. They strayed over from the park and climbed the trees and scaffolding and zip, zip – up the ladder to the roof! The building is being rehabbed and there have been ropes hanging outside all my windows for weeks now. Once, I spotted one of my fellow Mexicans in the mirror, working the ropes. I smiled, as I splashed on my eBay-bought Chanel Pour Monsieur on my way to my 2.0 McJob, but he just looked at me, confused.
T laughed as soon as he walked in and fell on the couch, nearly spilling his catnip. Apparently, the fabulousness of my just-home-from-the-office look was too much for him to take in with a straight face. “What the hell is going in here? What happened,” he asked. On the iTunes, Marvin Gaye’s “Here, My Dear” album gave the room an extra lush glow.
It had been running through my head all day, especially as I walked around Hell’s Kitchen in the hot sun at lunchtime. New York, in the summer when it sizzles, is one big meat rack. People were glistening, frisky, looking tres pret-a-porter. The new office is next to Hooters; the construction guys love eating on its steps and ramps. For a couple of blocks, I walked behind two foxy chics in baby doll dresses and counted the heads turning.
Maybe it was the weather, the pheromones, something in the stars – but, I felt relief for the first time in a long time. My allergies were still killing me, and the wind wasn’t helping. But I had the unmistakable sense that after an extended limbo, I had finally detached, caught up with my self, my life again. Homo got his groove back. In time for tonight’s new moon and midnight rain.
And all day this record would not stop playing in my head. When Did You Stop Loving Me, When Did I Stop Loving You – “as I recall we tried a million times” chaka-chaka-chaka “pretty birds, fly away...”
But who was you? Silly Gemini, “you” is You! Of course. The answer to everything sounds an awful lot like Marvin Gaye. Thank God.
(The fact that this track also turns up in a Dior spot featuring Charlize Theron is just sissy gravy – and so has nothing whatsoever to do with anything. Who are you to judge me, anyway?)
