Nate Fitzbutler did a remix to Kanye West’s and Kendrick Lamar’s “No More Parties in LA” called “No More Parties in SD”. He said, "we made this track to try to bring some national buzz to our city that’s always been in the shadow of the LA music scene."

Niko Sitaras from the San Diego based dream rock band Paper Days says, "We just released our new EP 'Fun For Family & Friends'. Our release party is on Feb 19th being hosted at the Irenic (with The Bash Dogs & Splavender). 

Panic Is Perfect is an indie-pop group from San Fran and they are touring in support of their new album, Cellspace, which drops tomorrow on Strange Loop Records. They'll be playing at The Loft @ UCSD on Feb. 12!





 

 

 

 

Making it Simple Here/Now: Dirty Projectors Dave Stampone 7.10.9
Pass on it and you may miss your favorite show of the year -- or, at the least, miss the chance to make up your own mind ...

Because, sure, you might’ve read something already on the band/their new record/etc. -- maybe even critical expressions of uncertainties, doubts, etc., concerning same.

I wish I had time to get into these, specific to the local SD press even, and convincingly counter-argue -- or just plain correct, where things (read: errors) are more objective than subjective.

Not happening.

Just going to serve up some original pre-edit/full-strength copy for two things I’ve written recently about DP, already printed elsewhere in (thus, substantially, notably) different versions. And in fact, for the present, I’m not even going to go in and addend to what I’ve already written ... Tho, true, the temptation is there, to get in what mental outtakes wouldn’t fit before -- say, to muse about one of DirPros’ Black Flag covers thusly:

“ ...i.e., “Rise Above,” always achingly anthemic when done DP-style -- lines like “We-e are tired of your abuse/ Try-y and stop us but its no use” slowed up and allowed to breathe with intense melodic emotion -- and coming off even moreso when heard here less than a week after those potent sounds/images of inspiringly defiant Iranians protesting a suspect election began to dominate the news ...”

Or ...

No. Gotta stop. Wouldn’t be right, kinda ...

If anything below helps you decide to go -- or no -- great.
If not, here’s hoping that reading some/all of said verbiage might be somehow worthwhile -- perhaps even prompting you to make your own pertinent related points sooner or later.
-----------------------------
[In morn-after review of Philadelphia, PA, 6-17-2009 show]

The glorious promise of art rock, shamelessly fulfilled -- such were the best moments of Dirty Projectors’ very sold-out show on Wednesday in the First Unitarian Church’s humid basement. The Brooklyn band began their headlining summer tour here with head-spinning aplomb, mostly showcasing their enthralling new (fifth) album Bitte Orca, likely to stand as one of the year’s best.

African-influenced lefty guitarist and DP majordomo Dave Longstreth lead the way via boldly expressive falsetto croons and swoops on mic, matched by the complex vocal arrangements of Angel Deradoorian, newcomer Hayley Dekle and Amber Coffman (who took a break from her math-rock guitar-slinging to dance around and soulfully belt out their prog-Mariah single “Stillness Is the Move.”) The women combined in sparkling unison or alternating cooing while bassist Nat Baldwin and drummer Brian McOmber (a Penn science lab researcher) worked the quirky, often startling time shifts.

Highlights included ... everything, including a three-song mini-set drawn from their last album Rise Above, a re-imagining of Black Flag’s 1981 classic Damaged LP, Longstreth winding down the title track with nimble runs showing the influence of late Mali blues master guitarist Ali Farka Toure.

Vieux Farka Toure, Ali’s 27-year-old son, burned through his 45-minute set with his tight band of three countryman and ex-Skeleton Key drummer Tim Keiper, focused almost entirely on material from his excellent new sophomore album Fondo. Following last Tuesday’s fine Philly performance of Amadou Bagayoko (with wife Mariam and band), it was the second local display of crack Malian guitar playing in little over a week -- but the itchy energy of youth distinguished Farka Toure, who picked out scintillating torrents of trebly notes. The effect was hypnotic, quickening loping cuts on the new record like “Fafa” and even the Afro-reggae “Diarby Magni.”

Skeletons opened, experimental Brooklyn compatriots of Dirty Projectors whose odd free-jazz-rock forays and sung/spoken vocal flights -- not to mention conceptual pursuits -- earned them early comparisons to DP.

In the end, though, the concert-goers surged forth into the light rain illuminated by Dirty Projectors, some still shaking their heads in disbelief over how good they were. The satisfying encore set involved the older “Ground Underfoot,” off 2003’s The Glad Fact, and the closing “Knotty Pine,” their collaboration with unabashed booster David Byrne on the Dark Was The Night benefit compilation (and which he hopped onstage to do with them, unplanned, at last weekend’s Bonnaroo fest).

Come to think of it, the conclusion of Byrne’s effusive praise of Bitte Orca, quoted on Domino Records’ website, serves well in speaking for many moved to raving about the Dirty Projectors experience overall: “I know this is all too gushy. Whatever, congratulations."
-- David R. Stampone
---------------------------
[In news-item associated preview of San Diego, CA, 7-9-2009 show]

“Temecula Sunrise,” eh? Listeners to this gorgeous track on Bitte Orca, the highly acclaimed month-old fifth album from Brooklyn art-rock band Dirty Projectors -- headlining at the Casbah tonight -- may wonder what it’s all about.

First of all, what it’s not: anything to do with the song of the same name by Orange County bubblegum-punk act New Years Day, appearing on NYD’s 2007 debut My Dear. Sung by Ashley Costello, that “Temecula Sunrise” actually dates back to when composer/NYD bassist Adam Lohrbach sang it fronting Home Grown, early pop-punk contemporaries of Blink-182.

“I’m aware of their song now, yeah, but wasn’t when I wrote mine,” confirmed Dirty Projectors mastermind Dave Longstreth in Pennsylvania last month, cooling off after his band’s first show of their current tour. (They narrowly escaped serious injury the next week when a highway collision flipped their van outside Detroit.)


So ... any substantial Eagles tie-in, as the title evokes their 1973 hit “Tequila Sunrise”? (And ... remembering that idiosyncratic songwriter Longstreth composed The Getty Address, a 2005 concept album involving the Eagles, Aztec mythology and the 9/11 aftermath -- complete with a letter from the singer-guitarist to Don Henley in the liners.)

No connection.

Amber Coffman, the former member of San Diego’s Sleeping People who moved to New York to play guitar and sing in Dirty Projectors, explained to the Seattle Times last week: "The song is kind of about those Southern California subdivisions ... being abandoned and foreclosed, turning into these thriving, artsy, bohemian communities ... The idea is just a bunch of kids take over a house and paint it and do all these crazy things in the neighborhood."

A fantasy.

“I first became aware of Temecula, the town, when we were on tour in 2006 on the west coast,” concluded Longstreth, who has collaborated with DP booster David Byrne this year and wrote a seven-song suite for band-fan Bjork and the Projectors to perform together at a NYC benefit in May. In 2006, the group also included Coffman’s friend Susanna Waiche, a long-time San Diego-based indie musician who has played with the Album Leaf, Black Heart Procession, Castanets and many more.

“As we were going by Temecula, we could see all these hills full of housing. Gross. Susanna explained that those hills were once open spaces and that, in fact, years ago, she and her grandfather loved to hike all over out there in the springtime when everything was in bloom -- that it was beautiful.”


    Lotushouse MP3 Sampler
    Maquiladora - The Revenge of Becky Royal (New Piano)
    Tenniscoats + Maquiladora - Hours
    High Mountain Tempel - Processional (An Invocation to Thee Angelic Sister)
    Raagnagrok - HJD
    Beggars - Will We Call It Love
    Maquiladora - Termez 1936
    Maquiladora - Song 26
    Buzz or Howl - Sendhe Mortu Chin Rigore
    Earthling Tempel - Celestial Inhabitants of the Sun
    Buzz or Howl - The Sins Of The Flower Are Visited On The Shunned
    Maquiladora - Light of the Rain
    High Mountain Tempel - The Ascended Master (Hang Gliding in Heaven)
    High Mountain Tempel - Fluctuat Nec Mergitur
    High Mountain Tempel - Tempel Walk
    Buzz or Howl - 05 Oct 05
    Buzz or Howl - Sun as the Destroyer of Dreams
    Live version at the Make Room SF 2005
    Maquiladora - In This Life
    Maquiladora - Simply to See You
    Maquiladora with Kawabata Makoto - Nampasen
    Maquiladora Maquiladora - Drunk and Lighting Fires (A Waltz)
    Maquiladora Maquiladora - Ritual of Hearts
    Maquiladora Maquiladora - Ankle
    Maquiladora - Mayday
    Loraine Loraine - Pasqually Old Pasqually

    Beggars - S/T
    by Pierro Scaruffi

    Maquiladora's Eric Nielsen and Bruce McKenzie joined forces with Skygreen Leopards' Glenn Donaldson to form Beggars, whose double-disc Beggars (Lotushouse, 2013) is a tour de force of ecstatic Eastern-influenced freak-folk. Mostly these pieces lean towards the traditional song format, although inevitably deformed by the musicians' pedigrees.

    The ghostly hyper-dilated drones of Ghost Coyote are imbued with quasi-Morricone western-movie guitar twang and even harmonica. The sweet lullaby and the trotting pace of Eureka My Love as well as the romantic honky-tonking Justine (with a refrain a bit reminiscent of Dylan's Blowing in the Wind) hark back to the heydays of country-rock. 2-3-74 Floating evokes the martial laments of the young Neil Young although diluted amid discordant guitar jamming and lulled by waves of funereal vocal harmonies. Berserker's Boogie is a lively and poppy almost-bluegrass tune. They even intone the singalong Queen Anne's Lace with drums, banjo and all.

    Thankfully, the spaced-out yodeling of Lullaby de Bourbon (memories of Aoxomoxoa-era Grateful Dead), the free-form quasi-jazz guitar and vocal interplay of Will We Call It Love, the seven-minute dreaming psalm Big Pink Sun and its sublimely disintegrating coda, remind us of what Maquiladora are best at. The 23-minute Midget Decapitates Clownis an ambitious concerto for suspense and agony. Far from being just a droning piece, it piles up sonic event after sonic event, producing the trancey effect out of a multitude of traumatic sounds. The chirping and tweeting that accumulates half-way into the piece decays into a nervous organic filigree and dies away in the most cryptic manner; one of the high points of Maquiladora's career.


    Earthling Tempel - Pilgrimage To Thunderbolt Pagoda
    by Aquarius Records

    Not sure if this is part 4, or just the first in a new multi part epic, hardly matters, what does matter is, this is another glorious expansive collection of meditative psychedelic abstract dronefolk ambience. Every High Mountain Tempel disc we're reviewed thus far has gotten played to death here, and this one doesn't appear to be any different. Well, at least in that respect. In one distinct way it is very different, HMT are not going it alone this time. They've assembled a pretty impressive collection of sonic alchemists and musical conjurers to help with this ritual, Isis Aquarian from the Source Family, Charles Curtis from La Monte Young's Just Alap Raga Ensemble, and two crews from the UK we've never heard of, Earthling Society and Astarism, but even with all those cooks in the kitchen, HMT and friends have managed to weave another dark minimal masterpiece, all hushed barely there guitar shimmer, drifting whispered vocals, delicate crystalline melodies, dense swirls of piano, warm swells of tape hiss, mysterious voices and field recordings, whirring organ, bowed steel strings... so lovely.

    If the liner notes are to be believed, two of the tracks feature Earthling Society on their own, and those tracks do sound different, much less free and sprawling, a bit more structured, like seventies UK acid folk, swirling and melodic and quite lovely. The final two tracks find the two groups in full on collaborative mode, and the gears shift to something much more space rocky and Hawkwindy, all blissed out and heart-of-the-sun, until the final track which is a strummy, delicate, moody chill out closer, a sort of dour doom folk drift, that makes a perfect ending.

    Super nice packaging, silkscreened oversized 4 panel sleeve, white on black, with the cd-r affixed to the inside. And of course, SUPER LIMITED!

    High Mountain Tempel - The Glass Bead Game by Aquarius Records

    Part three in the ongoing series of limited cd-r explorations from mysterious drone combo High Mountain Tempel, and like the two before it, the band continue to delve into some murky sonic underworld, again presenting loooong songs, each separated by brief sonic interludes, this disc seems feature more actual vocals, the opening track features a processed voice, that sounds a bit like throat singing, or a Speak And Spell, intoning some arcane message, interwoven with long drawn out tones, and a thick ropy buzz, super dark and intense and atmospheric. Elsewhere sampled voices surface, there are bits of chanting here and there, all peppered throughout the disc. But even with the extra voices, the focus here is still on dark, lugubrious, extended dronescapes.

    The sound of High Mountain Tempel is probably closest to Expo '70, as their various permutations of dronemusic seem to have a definite krautrock vibe, that gives the sound a sort of spaced out quality, and a subtle propulsion, but unlike Expo '70, HMT seem to have a distinct Eastern influence, much of the music is meditative and subtly dramatic, a bit soundtracky, and some of it sounds like it could be Japanese. Especially the way field recordings are incorporated into the sounds. Giving everything a definite texture, some of it sounding like it was perhaps recorded live in some hilltop temple. Which we would imagine is the idea.

    Not sure what else to say actually. This is indeed fantastic, brooding and malefic, but also shimmery and dreamy, sonically it has much in common with the first two installments, so definitely check out those reviews to read more about their 'sound'.

    Needless to say, fans of the drone and folks into the current crop of cd-r soundscapers will for sure dig this, but like the other HMT discs, this is more than simple drone music, this is ritualistic alchemical soundwork, one can almost imagine stumbling across a group of cloaked figures huddled around a fire in a forest clearing, tossing various powders into the flames, causing the fire to change color and cast beastlike shadows on the branches above, and this is the sound filtering through the forest like a black moonlit fog...
    SUPER LIMITED of course, packaged beautifully in a foldover silkscreened sleeve, gold metallic on red on the outside, black on red on the inside.

    High Mountain Tempel - A Screaming Comes Across The Sky - The Faultline Scriptures
    by Aquarius Records

    Record number two from this mysterious drone-kraut styled duo. Their last disc was a huge hit around here, so we were pretty thrilled to get our hands on this one, a logical sonic extension of the first, delving deeper into some murky tripped out twilit soundworld.
    The disc opens with shimmering clouds of gongs and cymbals, whirring and sizzling, suspended over a deep distant rumble, a delicate intro to a record at once hypnotic and lovely, dark and dense.

    The record is arranged into three epic tracks, interspersed with short sonic interludes, ranging from field recordings of crickets, looped chants (Elizabeth Clare Prophet if we're not mistaken), spirituals and mysterious liturgical songs, whirring drones, and backwards percussion, but it's the long tracks where the duo get to spread out, let their dense soundscapes sprawl.

    The three long tracks sounds like movements of a greater whole, clocking in at 15 minutes, 11 minutes and nearly 17 minutes respectively, each rife with creepy delayed vocals, churning guitars and smeared chords, roiling muddy whirls, which often dissipate leaving streaks of fragmented melody and haunting slowed down voices. Buried amidst the drones and whirs, are lullaby-like melodies, skittery percussion, streaks of grinding distortion, hidden voices, more field recordings, thick swaths of cavernous rumbles, little bits of electronic glitch and lots and lots of low end buzz.

    Packaged in a fancy navy blue fold over sleeve, screenprinted in white ink, with a photocopied insert with liner notes and song credits.

    LIMITED TO 150 COPIES! Each one hand numbered.

 

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