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!






The Bawdy Politik - Ted Leo and the Pharmacists write prescriptions for apathy
By Barnaby Monk 04.11.07

I woke up with tinnitus. There was a bag full of crispy chicken sandwiches from Carl's Jr. on my nightstand and a soda in a paper cup sweating a puddle beside. The words " Bomb! Repeat! Bomb! Repeat! Bomb!!! " were slam dancing in my cranium.

I've had some strong tea and flipped the brainstation through "Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?" to " me and youwhooooo.and a bottle of buckie ." I hope someone asks me today what I did last night, because I want to see what it would feel like to say the words, "I went to Mira Mesa to see Ted Leo and the Pharmacists."

I'd never been to the all-ages Epicentre - I prefer places where everybody has a beer belly - but it was fine. Easy to find. Parking was plentiful. Kids were nice enough. Standing before the building's prow shape and big pink neon sign, I suggested to the teen patting me down, "They should call it Good Ship Lollipop.y'know, cuz no drinking or smoking.looks like a big pink ship." He took my lighter, stuffed it down inside the ticket box, and thumbed me toward the entrance without a word. I just bought that lighter too.

Inside, Ted Leo, a 37-year-old New Jersey native, and his pharmacists - Dave Lerner and his giant afro on bass, Chris Wilson and his big beard on drums, "touring guitarist" James Canty on, well, the "touring guitar," I guess - were rocking Hearts of Oak 's "Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?" It's probably Leo's most popular tune - though I don't think the word "popular" suits anything about Leo in any abstraction - based on, when I'd tell people I was going to the show or invited someone along, they'd go, "The rude guy?" So, there you are.

Leo slings a big noisy hollowbody and sports a short headahair, anglo '80s trad tight blacks, and one of his trademark soccer tops. Mexico, this time, which I wouldn't have noticed hadn't someone yelled out " Viva la Mehico! " between songs, to which Leo replied, "Indeed," and then suggested there was much to talk about the goings on down there. "Let's here it!" prodded the audience yeller guy, but Leo, in his manner, said it wasn't the time or the place. Then the band lashed into "Bomb.Repeat.Bomb," a stirring punk'd anthem about indiscriminate bomb raids off their latest disc, the excellent Living with the Living .

Along with choice cuts off of Tyranny of Distance and Shake the Sheets , other highlights from the latest release included the pop of "La Costa Brava," rave-up "Bottle of Buckie," and the danceable dub of "The Unwanted Things," clearly the audience faves.

Leo is a consummate rawk guitarist, and live he plays to his strengths, shifting from power chords to his signature mid-range hooks and high-end voicings with noisy bravado. As a vocalist, he is a singer's singer with a powerful punk whelp and the ability to stretch a word like taffy to change the color of a line. His vocal melodies and writing style are informed by Paul Weller, Joe Strummer, and Guy Piccioto of Fugazi, a band that, because of their fierce musical independence and humanist politics, Leo holds in high esteem. In fact, Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty engineered and mixed the new Leo disc.

Because of its pop appeal and considered accessibility, Leo's been getting a lot of press for Living with the Living , including a showcase on NPR's All Songs Considered, a fine pairing of the progressive-artsy station and vocal vegan activist. Leo's skill lies in his ability to politick lyrically, with insightful (if cynical) observation of current events and bawdy social-isms, while wrapping his views in punk-inflected pop music: danceable, singable, exciting and inciting.

In a recent interview with The Onion , the AVClub asked Ted Leo about Neil Young's assertion that contemporary musicians aren't interested in writing protest songs. Leo, who is adamantly, poetically lyrical about world crises and the U.S.'s hand in them, posted a reply to the venerable singer-songwriter and had this to say about the disagreement: " .I can't stomach this leftover, Baby-Boomer lecturing. Honestly, they're the fucking assholes who created the music industry. They're the shitheads who have figured out how to actually turn rebellion into money. I can't allow them to then turn around and call out the monsters that they created for being monsters. It's driving me crazy."

Now, obviously Leo isn't blaming Neil Young for single-handedly commodifying the art form, but he is suggesting, as he does in his songs, that where there should be responsibility - on the part of successful artists like Young, industry leaders, world leaders, politicians, teachers, parents.each and every one of us - there's a pervasive apathy. And Ted Leo and the Pharmacists are kicking at that apathy the best way they know how, by rocking it to its foundation.

Other stuff: I just got the new Grinderman disc, which came out this week. Grinderman is Nick Cave and a handful of his Bad Seeds. Cave's on guitar instead of piano here, playing filthy and singing some pretty fun, sexy stuff. Check out their video for "No Pussy Blues" on YouTube if you haven't already. I'm gonna put that on repeat now and climb back in bed with my sack of chicken sandwiches, slurp soda off my nightstand.

See ya'll at the Deerhunter/Ponys show this Sunday night at Beauty Bar. Best five bucks you'll spend all year.

    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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