Solid State

Well, hello there, Solid State. How ya been?

Don't know if you folks have been keeping tabs on our good friends over at Angioplasty Media, but Nick, Paddy and Co. have had a pretty interesting run of posts lately — in addition to picking up the tattered, screen-printed pieces of late, great booking co-op, Tick Tick, with a sparkling string of Monkey House shows.

Specifically, they've begun a series of live music videos shot at Paddy Reagan's studio. The sixth and latest installment — following a nifty turn from indie-folk fave Vandaveer — features our own alt-country rolling stone, Lowell Thompson.

Here's that vid, and when you have a few minutes to spare, head over to Angioplasty and peruse the others. They're pretty rad, if I do say so myself. Also, they've just posted a killer Rough Francis vid from the band's recent Higher Ground show with Mos Def, courtesy of RF bassist Steve Williams (My First Days on Junk, et al.) and his blog, FuckingRightHandMan. Enjoy.

Burlington harsh noise. That is perhaps not a phrase uttered often by Queen City residents when referring to their music. These are the type of sounds that have some listeners upset at the very presentation and invasion of such aural abominations, of the composition of harsh and extreme sounds, to be more specific  A form of ambient music, it's the type of music that works on a much more subtler level than most anything else. And I mean on a whole other level. It's the type of stuff that grabs the subconscious and tears it into tiny ribbons. Most are certainly not looking for that type of experience when throwing on a pair of headphones or retreating to the bar for some tunes. But it exists in both spaces.

Grimeology might be Burlington's home and heart for mutilated sounds (or grime) and their co-founder Matthew Mayer — aka A Snake in the Garden — is the man propagating this distinction in Burlington. Grimeology itself is a humble little homegrown outfit started in 2003 with "complete, total, and utter dedication to all sounds filthy, shitty, crusty, dirty, and Grimey®," specializing in cassette tapes and CD-Rs — fitting, in a certain context, to the depth and nature of the sounds found on such hardware. The justification that standardized music media brings would certainly be welcome. But maybe the image wouldn't fit. Or stick. One could derive that Grimeology knows its place in the musical world, truly for better or worse.

Upon entering A Snake in the Garden's studio tracks the vicious assault of feedback arranged into a sound collage of mind-bending violence can be soul shattering at best (or worst). The reaction is certainly down to perspective and there's no arguing with that. It's hard to imagine most even giving the ambiance of noise a chance. But spent more than a moment with, it's certainly interesting. It's hard to note whether that interest might be musically academic or emotional. But it's not a type of expression easily captured through headphones or treble-ridden computer speakers. In fact, in many ways it's impossible.

Live performance is starkly intrinsic to grime. So much so that unlike most music — which can project its emotional energy upon a listener's outstretched mind in almost any context — ambient noise needs the surroundings of the familiar, the untainted, in order to shatter them and mutate them into an unrecognizable atmosphere of filth and energy. The sounds need to touch and squeeze the listener's senses — violently, if need be. It can be toleration in its control over the listener, which is perhaps what is so inaccessible about the style. The bottom line is that grime is music that needs to be experienced and felt, rather than just listened to.

A Snake in the Garden is no exception. I caught one of Mattew's sets a few weeks ago at The Monkey House in Winooski and I left the place shaking. The dramatic effect the set had upon me was certainly a personal interpretation, but it took a particular amount of time to come to grips with my reaction. The atmosphere the sounds created penetrated straight down into a very primal place. The music spoke on an instinctual level that music rarely finds. The place where fight-or-flight rears its head and adrenaline fills the mind. There's a certain amount of trust you have to relinquish in order to be moved, and it would be easy to contextualize the sounds coming from the stage as just "noise" without that trust. The set only lasted about ten minutes.

The most fascinating aspect of the performance was the brutal and utter honesty that Matthew was able to bring to the wreckage. It would be easy to conceptualize composition and hide behind electronics while feedback sputters and drones. But A Snake in the Garden gives you intimate and personal knowledge of the universe that he's created. It's as if you're peering into a small galaxy of life and memory before he destroys it right before your eyes with regret and duty.

A Snake in the Garden is an important part of Burlington whether the city and populace know it or want it. Honest expression is what most musicians strive for, and I've never seen or experienced it as palpably as A S I T G. I will definitely be going out the next time the man is playing in town. 

This just in from our old pals/arch-nemeses the Fatal Flaws. The deliciously curmudgeon-y local garage-rawkers recently collaborated on a track with a new(ish) Montreal outfit called the Broken Jugs for a compilation CD produced by Vancouver-based Mongrel zine. The title of the comp, which focuses on (really) underground Montréal bands is — and this is my second favorite part — Mongréal Zine. Nice. I love a good pun, almost as much as I love a bad one.

The track — this would be my first favorite part, for anyone keeping score — is entitled "She's a Big Girl" and represents something of a departure from the grainy, lo-fi misanthropy we have come to know and love (and hate?) from the Flaws. As drummer Sasha Rodriguez puts it in a recent email, "It's very different from the Fatal Flaws' sound — much more of a sixties sound, and much more produced."

And how.

I would go a step further and submit that this might be the sunniest little ditty Rodriguez and husband/guitarist/second coming of W.C. Fields, Chris Beneke have ever been a part of. (Granted, my sample size is admittedly small. Like, one album. For all I know they could have been in a Monkees cover band in a past life. But I digress.) And, much as I love the Flaws' independent work — and believe me, I do — this song friggin' rocks. In fact, I'd say this little blend of garage crunch and subversive pop sparkle is just about the perfect tune for a day like today, as summer, nearing its final throes, begins to surrender to the steely, ceaseless inevitability of fall. Or something like that.

Anyway, here's the cut. I hope you enjoy it. 

You know who I love? Ryan Power. And I'm guessing after you check out the latest installment of Rebecca "Nuda Veritas" Kopycinski's "Burly Song" show for Channel 15, you will too — if you don't already, that is. Enjoy. And keep 'em coming, Rebecca!

I'm pretty sure I've been promising a podcast for, oh, more than two years now. Or in other words, since I started at Seven Days. Well, guess what? I finally got around to doing one. And I enjoyed it so much, I think I'm going to make this a (semi) regular thing.

For the inaugural edition of the as-yet-unnamed Solid State podcast series, I caught up with our old pal, Casey Rae-Hunter of the Future of Music Coalition in Washington DC — and in a former life, 7D Music Editor extraordinaire.

The topic of the day was the Performance Rights Act currently being bandied about in our great halls of legislative discourse — and championed by none other than Patrick Leahy, no less.

For the unfamiliar, here's the Reader's Digest version: the bill would help prevent recording artists from getting screwed by — hold on to your hat — requiring terrestrial radio stations to — are you still holding your hat? — actually pay the artists whose music they play. 'Cuz right now, they don't. Crazy, right?

Under the current system, American radio stations are only required to pay licensing fees to a song's copyright holder and songwriter, but not the performer. Ironically, in virtually every other "radio" medium, from satellite to internet, stations are required to pay the copyright holder, the songwriter and the performer. But for some reason, terrestrial radio gets a free pass. I won't even get into how this works on a global scale, except to say that you'll be shocked at the handful of countries that claim similar warped systems to our own. Shocked.

Anyway, Casey does a much nicer job of describing the ins and outs of the bill and why it is important than I have time to divulge here. So click the download link below and enjoy.

A couple of notes about the podcast:
1. It's a first attempt and admittedly rough around the edges. Any constructive feedback is much appreciated.
2. Yes, it's totally corny that I used tracks from my old band, the Middle Eight, as the intro and outro music. However, I didn't have time to ask permission to use someone else's. Given the subject matter, I thought that was kind of important. Also, these songs were actually part of my very first collaboration with Casey, as he mastered the album way back in the day. So there's that.
3. On that note, I imagine I'll either work up a real intro once this gets rolling, or mix up intros with tunes from various local bands. Haven't really decided yet.
4. Casey has a pretty cool guest blog post here.
5. He also maintains his own thoroughly excellent blog here.

Solid State Podcast #1
Topic: Performance Rights Act
Guest: Casey Rae-Hunter, Communications Director, Future of Music Coalition
Music Credits: "Easy Chair," The Middle Eight, Lubec (D. Bolles); "The Sun Always Shines," The Middle Eight, Lubec (D. Stockhausen)

Download SolidStatePodcast1.081809

Well, this is just hilarious: http://www.boston.com/ae/celebrity/more_names/blog/2009/08/dude_looks_like_a_little_old_l.html

What it is, Solid State?

'Tis a lovely late-summer Friday in the Queen City. It's the sort of day when one's thoughts turn to free flowing flights of fancy. For me, that means a symphony of randomness I like to call "Friday Brain Dribblings." Here we go.

It was sad to say goodbye to Les Paul yesterday. The man was a giant. Predictably, there was a smattering of  tribute-y pieces floating around the interwebs and TV yesterday. But I think our very own Mike Luoma sums it up best with this Twitter post: "Les Paul's contributions to & impact on music tower over Michael Jackson's. So... his passing will get more coverage, right?" Sigh.

Did you realize GWAR is celebrating its 25th anniversary this year? I feel old.

Earlier this week, Phish announced they will release Joy, their first studio album in five years on September 8. That's it. No joke here. Just passing that along. (That was a big step for me.)

Dogfighting douchebag Michael Vick signed with the Philadelphia Eagles last night. As a dog lover and doting owner of a half-crazy half-pitbull, I'm not nearly as upset about the QB's return as I thought I would be. Actually, I'm almost sorta rooting for him. I'm either a sucker for redemption stories, or so fed up with PETA that I can't help but equate their screeching protests to something on par with the Town Hall Meeting idiots.

Speaking of which, fuck Glenn Beck.

I had a nifty conversation yesterday with Alex Budney, who is running "Nectar's South" on Martha's Vineyard. Most of that will appear in next week's paper. But if you're looking for a late-summer weekend getaway, you could do worse. Sounds like a lot of fun.

I had an equally nifty conversation with the esteemed Casey Rae-Hunter — a.k.a "the old Dan Bolles" — this week for the inaugural edition of my forthcoming and as-yet-unnamed podcast, about the Pat Leahy-sponsored Performance Rights Act. Really interesting stuff. I've still got a little editing to do on that. Look for the debut early next week.

Anyone else notice that Higher Ground's fall calendar is looking increasingly awesome? Yo La Tengo, The Decemberists, Sondre Lerche, Andrew Bird, Son Volt, Great Lake Swimmers, etc. I wonder if the "HG never books good indie bands" crowd will actually show up for any of them. Just sayin'.

And finally, I'm reviewing James Kochalka's new album, Digital Elf, in next week's issue — sneek peek: I like it … mostly. And I guess I'm not alone in digging our resident Superstar's singular weirdness. Apparently, Moby is a fan too.

Have a great weekend, folks!