Lesands, Quartet, Matchless
Read the review on our LA site
Oberhofer, Quartet, Brooklyn Bowl
This band is into some heavy rock and roll swagger. The lead singer looked like Jerry Lee Lewis after a long weekend with the Rat Pack. They were just full of sass and really fun and abrasive. They got weird at times – I want to say avant-weird. I would put this record on as I wound up to go get a job. They make you feel cool, with these big, wide-open impacts on open chords and crash cymbals. People start trying to dance but it’s really awkward, but that’s part of the fun. They sound kind of spazzy and punk – David Byrne through Decemberists. I really am digging on the sounds I’m hearing – thrashy and aggressive while remaining playful and classy, like a new puppy shredding your wingtips to pieces.
Keepaway, Trio, Brooklyn Bowl
Keepaway is an impressive live act. Between the straight-up weird voice of Nick Nauman, we have the octopus drumming of Frank Lyon and the awesome sampling of Mike Burakoff. There’s a collaboration of live drumming (sans bass drum) and electronic beats from Mike. They are doing some really great three-part harmonies now, and they sound really, really tight. The first time I got to watch them play was at Zebulon earlier this summer, and everyone was having such a good time – Victor Vasquez was whacking some of Frank’s cymbals from the dance floor. But none of those shenanigans were happening at the dark, somewhat vaudevillian stage Tuesday night. The boys looked absolutely pro – a little stage banter, sure, but for the most part, they kept things real professional. I had to boost after a few songs.
Marnie Stern, Trio, Santos Party House
I don’t get to see too much of this set, but Marnie sounds awesome as always. You cannot beat her presence on stage: genial, sweet, cute, humble. She’s wearing a nice dress. It’s angular and fun and a challenge, and I’m not sure what more you could ask for. Marnie is one of the most valuable members of the indieverse right now – for her ability to bring elements together (Zach Hill, hint, although that guy is a machine) and for her philosophy/scholarship. This intellectual approach to the guitar/drum combo hasn’t been so well since Durutti Column, in my opinion. Keep going Marnie! We need you!
Read the review of Virginia Wild Nothing‘s show here.
Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr, ?, Santos Party House
I couldn’t actually SEE this band, as they played the downstairs stage at Santos late. The room was just packed, overflowing into the lobby of the restroom. But they sound just awesome, doing some really poignant and textured indie pop. The harmonies were liquid and the guitars somewhat trickling, bright. These guys are buzzing all over town, and it’s basically come to the conclusion that, although the name is absolutely fucking ridiculous, the band is good enough to ply its wares only on the basis of its music. What I’m saying is, the buzz might be deserved.
Sam Micken’s Ecstatic Show and Revue, Dectet, Zebulon
An absolutely stunning new musical act from the frontman of the indomitable freak-jazz art-rock trio The Dead Science. They are from Seattle, but Sam moved out here in NYC last year to start this new project. It’s absolutely stunning. It’s performance. It’s pastiche. It’s big band – he croons heavy in front of a sprawling nine-piece band: two kinds of sax, trombone, trumpet, drums, bass, guitar, and keys. It’s a wonderfully orchestrated sound that Mickens himself writes onto sheet music that his buds read off of. It’s tinged with the free jazz of The Dead Science, but it’s a much brighter, tighter, more accessible. Mickens is a performer through and through, a man of a vision and a true artistic sense. Lawerence Welk and Perry Como are two of the more obvious references, but it must be mentioned that this band is fully contemporary. The music is infused with rock elements more than any other, but it’s the textures that make it really worthwhile. And Micken’s voice. Want to call him Bowie in a way. Get excited about this project and maybe we can get him his own variety show. – Dale W Eisinger