New York Music Blog

Trouble & Bass featuring Joker, Nomad, and Bok Bok & L-Vis 1990
Santos Party House
Saturday, November 21

Joker's hypeman MC Nomad wants to know if the audience can FEEL IT IN THE RIBCAGE, which the audience, arms raised, responds to with a loud, slurry sound. By the looks of the floor, the ribcage isn't the only place people are feeling it, and the bass isn't the only thing they're feeling.

Baroness
Bowery Ballroom
Friday, November 20

Baroness don't waste any fucking time. At precisely 11:37 p.m. on Friday night, the prog-thrash quartet stalked briskly onstage at the Bowery Ballroom in neat formation, wordlessly situated themselves, and without even a glance of acknowledgment towards the crowd, slipped into the minor-key, arpeggiated notes of "Bullhead's Psalm," the minute-and-a-half dry-run of atmospherics that opens their majestic new Blue Record. Then the highly choreographed skull-crushing began, exactly where it does on the album--with the jackhammering second track "The Sweetest Curse." In fact, the first three songs in Friday night's set consisted of the first three songs of The Blue Record played in succession. Baroness live, it turns out, have all the spontaneity of a tactical air strike.

Example of tUnE-YaRdS' wanton radness

Dirty Projectors/tUnE-YaRdS
Music Hall of Williamsburg
Thursday, November 19

Look, the Projectors are doing fine, just fine. Just a wee bit overexposed at the moment, maybe. "All I know is this part of the city is the creative capital of the entire world," deadpans Dave Longstreth at one point. (Soon thereafter he's rambling about the unpleasantness of irony.) They play a lovely set that inspires maybe half the awe and exuberance whipped up by tUnE-YaRdS in an opening-act fiesta so absurdly enjoyable I'm actually going to indulge this weird capital-letters thing.

Mr. Chilton, still serenading those September gurls. Pic by Lindsey Budjinski

​Big Star
Brooklyn Masonic Temple
Wednesday, November 18

This show seems half-assed in a way that everyone is frankly really pleased with, most of all Alex Chilton, of course, a blithely nonchalant power-pop deity loping amiably through a clutch of '70s hits with the aid of a couple '90s alt-rockish power-pop dudes who deified him (Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow, they of the Posies) at a late 2009 show at a Masonic Temple in Brooklyn, ostensibly to promote a box set. And why the hell not. "We love you Alex!" some dude yells, after a raucous, ragged-guitar-solo-besotted "Don't Lie to Me." "Welcome to New York!" someone else yells. "It's not New York--it's Brooklyn!" some lady corrects. "You too, Jody!" a fourth dude adds, making sure Mr. Stephens, behind the drums as always, also feels welcome. And then it's off to "When My Baby's Beside Me," and everybody's suddenly feeling super good about themselves.

Moderat Likvidation and friends. All photos by Rebecca Smeyne.

​The next time someone does that thing where they yawn and ask in an incredulous voice whether ABC No Rio bothers to still host Saturday hardcore matinees, by all means, punch them in the face. Grizzled Swedish d-beat veterans Moderat Likvidation played the enduring LES venue on Saturday in an extremely rare New York appearance; their Minneapolis hardcore tourmates Detonate opened up, and Rebecca Smeyne braved the pit to take photos. There sure were a lot of punks at this show.

Shrinebuilder photo by Greg Cristman

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Liturgy, Rwake, and Shrinebuilder
Le Poisson Rouge
Sunday, November 15

Sunday night at Le Poisson Rouge featured a three-band lineup (Liturgy, Rwake, and Shrinebuilder), capping the third and final night of the newborn Blackened Weekend Music Festival. In turn, the fest itself was the third entry in the ongoing Adam Shore-curated Blackened Music series--not quite three sixes, but halfway there. After the success of the first two Blackened concerts--the first charting a few generations of grindcore (Repulsion, Brutal Truth and Pig Destroyer), the second highlighting SunnO)))'s avant primordial ooze--this edition, which was spread between Union Pool and LPR, sought the middle ground between the two extremes. On a weekend when Metallica filled the Garden uptown, the fest drew sold-out, packed-houses for successive performances by Orphan, Krallice, and Malkuth (on Friday) and Skeletonwitch and Black Anvil (on Saturday), highlighting local acts, regional bands, and one supergroup. Each night sussed variants of modern metal's key attributes: velocity, viscosity, and voice (volume would be a fourth "V", but that's a given.)

Nice cape, dude. Photo by Araceli Cruz.

​"The first thing that struck me was the boat," said Billy Corgan, onstage Saturday at the Rubin Museum, where he was being psychoanalyzed. In front of him was an image from C. G. Jung's The Red Book. The illustration was of a vessel at sea, with a spear-clutching man perched on its bow. Beneath swam a large fish with teeth. "I think Egypt...boat...death...crisis of doubt...the confrontation of faith. I think of the myth of Orpheus," Corgan said. "Do I need to be committed?"

This guy (pictured on another occasion) saved the day as usual

​Last night, DJ Soul's Wednesday-night bash Big Fun held its venue debut at Union Square Lounge (USL if you're in the know), tucked under the coffee shop on 16th and University. It's been a week of firsts there, as the spot held its grand re-opening on Monday under the new direction of Lotus ex-pat Michael Gogel, who hopes to bring out a fresh downtown crowd of artists, music people, socialites, models, and party kids (along with fewer NYU students). They've already solicited Todd from Beatrice Inn (also rumored to re-open), super-Frenchie Gloomy Palmz (from Le Sexie), and last night's lineup of DJ Soul, Stretch Armstrong, and Eli Escobar (Day Two) to DJ the hideaway. It should be noted that we were promised S'mores.

Somebody tell Puja how to do this.

Greenhouse is one of those places that make us normal folks nervous. While some revel in the exclusivity of red-roped clubs, the thought of waiting in a felt-carpeted line doesn't exactly thrill me--over-glammed Jersey girls, statuesque Chelsea boys, and men with blinding jewelry (who announce their intention to buy a $40 bottle of vodka for $300) reign supreme here. Not to mention that lawsuit thing they're dealing with, or that the maze of ropes and stoic, clipboard-toting bouncers make you wonder if you're in for something much more sinister than a dance party. That said, last night's inaugural monthly "New York, New York" fete (with Stretch Armstrong, Eli Escobar, and Morse Code on the bill) was too enticing to pass up, and with Frank 151 hosting, how snotty could it be? I rallied a friend, downed a Red Bull and vodka, and decided that we could make it through this together.

Photo of Carsick Cars at Glasslands by Rebecca Smeyne

​ PK-14, Xiao He, Carsick Cars
Glasslands
Friday, November 6

Nearly two years ago, while following Brooklyn's spasmodic noisemakers Ex-Models on a tour through the imperial city of Beijing and Shanghai for a magazine article, I got a taste of what the People's Republic of China had to offer musically (besides horrible lung infections, delicious soup dumplings, and pirated DVDs). While the country has opened up culturally for everyone from jazz pianist Matthew Shipp to E2-E4 guitar composer Manuel Gottsching to still more Brooklyn bands (such as These Are Powers), little of China's music has crept into the US. At least until this past week, as a handful of Chinese experimental rock bands hit stateside as part of the Beijing-based independent music label Maybe Mars' mini-tour showcase.