Hot Chip played here in Atlanta on Monday and was one of the most amazing lives shows I’ve seen in some time. Not only did they make their old stuff dance able (I really dis-liked Coming on Strong in its cd form) but they played some new tracks and everything from The Warning was re-edited for a live audience. “Over and Over” was turned into this dance floor stormer with a throw back trance build up and nasty grungy bassline to die for. Special thanks to Emory Radio for somehow managing to bring them to Atlanta. They’re also releasing a DJ Kicks soon as well –that should be spectacular.
Also, I’ve been thinking for a month that people should start playing out tracks from Aphrodite’s Urban Jungle. I mean everyone I know has been on this turning-hip-hop-tracks into-house-tracks kick and well, that cd was the first time I’d heard that en-mass. Everything is being brought back, so why not?
And while I’m at it, I’m going to bring back Azzido Da Bass’ “Doom’s Night” for shits and wiggles. I pulled the vinyl out of my crates randomly and made the executive decision that it needs a come back.
I’m really digging all the throw back rave references they put into all their remixes (no shit hacks, really?!?!). Layering the “Where’s Your Head At?” synth line under the whole track totally does it for me.
Troniks sent us a fun little mashup/remix. Its sure to get the kids dancing in that “we’re not quite drunk enough to let ourselves have fun, but are on our way there with help from the deejay” kinda way.
Thanks again to the excellent column by Palms Out Sounds I’ve got another Chromeo remix to bring you. There are a ton of these floating around, and I think this one is now my favorite. Guns n’ Bombs WTF again.
Lastly, I’ve been informed that I was wrong (it happens). The Riot in Belguim track I posted a while back was incorrectly attributed as a VanShe Tech remix. That’s WRONG!.. Its the final mastered version of the original. My aplogies to The Boys in Riot in Belgium. Regardless “La Musique” may be my favorite track so far this year. Its amazing like whoa!
Now, a quick moment of self promotion:
Some friends are putting together an Art Show on May 26th at East Side Lounge here in Atlanta and I’m going to be deejaying both during the event and then on and off through the night as well.
I’ll give out some more info once we get a few more things finalized, but I should note it will also coincide with the launch of our new sister site! Formal announcement on that to come a bit later, but rest assured its going to be hot.
Rating: Eh, pretty much not that great. Also, disappointing.
There’s a fantastic debate that rages in the Resonator offices (ok, basically just between Trixie and I) anytime there’s mention of a new Tori Amos project. It basically goes something like this:
Trixie: “She jumped the shark at ‘Choirgirl’ â€
Me: “How can you say that? There was this amazing mixed-down skippy almost two-step breakbeat on “Goodbye Pisces†from the last record and…â€
Trixie: “And I would have listened if she hadn’t gotten boring after ‘Choirgirl’.â€
And that, essentially, encapsulates our Tori dialogue (although the above version features fewer things being thrown across kitchens). With both of us having our hearts still firmly in love with the Tori Amos who was a raved-up diva (and yes, I do mean RAVE: I can tick off House and Trance staples that found their origins with her enough to make your head spin, kids), straddling a line between new and old by thrashing the fuck out of her Bosendorfer grand piano and snaking synth lines from her Casio to craft a sound that was, and words fail here, fucking intense, the Tori Amos of recent years has been, well, a bit of a let-down.
Choirgirl Hotel, Tori’s late-90s venture into electronic song sculptures as a way to achieve catharsis from a failed relationship, a miscarriage and a flowering love that would result in marriage, was the pinnacle of her musical creativity. She’d pulled her songwriting back from the self-indulgent wine-drunk edge that made her previous album, Boys For Pele, the sort of record only a fan could love (and thus I adore it, more so than any of her other work), and had begun experimenting with making loops and samples the forefront, the body and meat, of her songs. It’s from this stuff that the shoulda-been-a-Prog-House-hit “Liquid Diamonds†and the anthem-that-wasn’t “Raspberry Swirl†both were birthed. While she’d continue to layer deep, pulsing tones underneath a lot of To Venus and Back, and removed a lot of the layers from her chosen covers on Strange Little Girls and redid the songs with a hazy buzz, there was never the sense of all-out experimenting with electronic and synthetic ideas that seemed to be her direction for a moment.
We can blame motherhood (but why demonize something so awesome and deserved), we can blame age (but why fault something so eventual), or we can blame the current political climate in America (that’s it! Let’s fault Bush! FUCK BUSH!), but Tori has utterly mellowed on-record in recent years. While Scarlet’s Walkand The Beekeper both have near-moments of almost-oldschool Tori fury (of which I try to sell Trixie on just to get her to listen), compared to her older stuff both records feel neutered and, even worse for an artist who has always been the musically creative equivalent of a crackwhore, boring. She’s still utterly batshit crazy live, calling out during 80 minute versions of classics like “Professional Widow†for boys, daddy and rain (yes, said) and interspersing her on-stage exorcisms with between-song banter about ravioli, party dresses, chickpea cheesecake and Professor Koala.
So, the announcement of this new Tori album, Strange Little Dol, erm, American Doll Posse, and its accompanying concept (TORI! In WIGS! Saying WEIRD SHIT!), was met with eye-rolling from both Trixie and myself. While others across the netverse have jumped on every little Tori interview quirk, there are those of us who look, shrug, and just say “yeah, she was crazier in, like, ’97, and I was thereâ€.
I’m not really necessarily sure why she found the need to re-hash an idea done better in the Strange Little Girls booklet, what the multi-personality Toris have to do with American Doll Posse conceptually, or how they help string the record together (though it’s fucking hilarious that the disheveled one with the Beyonce-esque crazy eyes and clutching a chicken, like a rejected extra from the Pele photo shoot, is “Toriâ€), but I’ve always been insistent that a concept album should be listenable even if one’s removed entirely from the concept. I remember recording my CD copy of Choirgirl to a cassette to hear the “alternate track listâ€, i.e. to re-order the songs to follow the way the lyrics were printed. Apparently re-arranging the songs allowed for some “hidden meaningâ€. Honestly, yeah, it did flow better, but Choirgirl was still listenable as-was, from front to back.
American Doll Posse, while offering up a lot of blog fodder with the single “Big Wheel†(“OMFG YOU GUYS SHE CALLS HERSELF A MILF!â€), really offers nothing new, or nothing that would really lure back those of us who continue, time after time and album after album, to slip away, go to the shows, see the force of Tori live, sigh out the door and say ‘god, I wish she’d make another GREAT albumâ€. There are a few splendid moments, such as Tori funneling her long-lost b-side “The Pool†through Kevin Shields’ sound system on “Fat Slutâ€, that come as highly unexpected. The highlight of these is when, on what should totally be the album’s second single “Bouncing Off Cloudsâ€, Matt Chamberlain’s precise drumming falls away to reveal drum programming and Tori house-diva vamping “easy/make it easy/it’s not as heavy as it seemsâ€. It’s a euphoric, tear-stained half-light of a moment, the type of moment that’s liable only to translate to those who’ve ever been dancing as the sun came up. The fact that this comes so early on American Doll Posse, though, shows what Tori could and can still do, and makes the fact that she chooses instead to litter the album with what that past half-decade of Tori has consisted of, namely M.O.T. (mainstream-oriented Tori) stuff like “You Can Bring Your Dog†and “Secret Spellâ€. The problem is that there’s nothing really wrong with any of these songs, but there’s nothing that exciting, either. Tori Amos albums used to be head-fuck amalgams of the cutting-edge and the childlike, the obscene and the divine. Now, those moments of utter transcendence, the type of songs that always proved that while the world may not have been listening to her she was listening to every sound from everywhere, are far too few and come too infrequently.
Maybe the American Doll live show will cause a re-evaluation of this record for me, in a fashion that the end of The Beekeeper solo show I caught, with Tori performing the title song in a droning haze before turning up the feedback and storming off stage, leaving a painful, powerful reverb thumping in my chest that literally made it impossible to breathe. I hope for something like that this time around-because every time Tori works her magic in a live setting, it leaves a little more hope that maybe NEXT album she’ll be the amazing, bewitching, psycho-genius Tori that the world either loves or hates. As for now, though, it’s too easy to simply just “like†her, because there isn’t that much on American Doll Posse to love.
There’s T-Rex glam stomp to some of her American Doll stuff, but nothing struts up to Allison Goldfrapp and slaps her ‘cross the cheek with a lace glove like this.
Tori discussed the making and shelving of this song for years before it was actually heard-and, once it was released, it was worth the wait. Loud, painful, intense, wrapped in that glorious, heavy synth sound that marks a specific period in Tori’s recordings. This is…this is what I would love to hear again, rather than the uncreative blandness that is the majority of her current output.
There are two camps of those who attend a performance made up of the claustrophobic neo no-wave electropunk composed, arranged and produced by Nicola Kuperus and Adam Lee Miller. The first group are those who are only familiar with early Resuscitation-era ADULT., from when they were sterile and sounding remotely of Berlin (and, fortunately, I mean the city and not the band). The second are those to whom the band ADULT. is entirely unfamiliar.
It’s easier in a live setting for ADULT. to win over the second group, as their current sound is more crushed Ritalin mixed with Adderall and bloodletting than the cold muted white IKEA electro toned that formerly trademarked their 12†of dance-floor apathy, most notably and memorably the anti-communication ode “Hand To Phoneâ€. It’s that song that made them and that song that earned them both their place in “This Is Electroclash†history and parody-if you don’t believe me, check out Kevin Blechdom’s awesome in-joke “Always Frankâ€, which nails, to the blank-eyed head-turn and snarl, the early sound of ADULT.
Since their second actual compact disc release, Anxiety Always, Adam and Nicola have had a job fit for graduate Marketing student in terms of re-establishing their mission statement, their idea, their ADULT. brand. It’s been through no lack of their own efforts-from the mathy drone of Gimmie Trouble to the ungodly paranoid fusion of rave and noise that is Why Bother?, this is obviously not your Winter Music Conference ADULT. Most, however, have stepped away from the table, mistakenly labeling the newer ADULT. output as something less than what they fell in love with.
It’s in their live show that ADULT. take this misconception, hold it up to blinding red and yellow strobe lighting, and shred it to bloody, pulpy bits. The duo each have their parts to play in this Theatre De Anxiety-Adam, the barely moving, nearly-invisible behind-the scenes orchestrator, with his bass slung low and deep, and Nicola the worst nightmare torrent of moaning, shrieking and in-your-face aggression, lit from below and behind as though a walking ad for proof that scurvy leads to schizophrenia.
The Why Bother? Tour, at least its one-night stop in Atlanta (with a crowd somewhere between the capacity crowd Atlanta date and the 10-person plus Chan “Cat Power†Marshall attendance of the Athens show from 2005), is, as is the titular album release, the perfect amalgam of all ADULT. that has come before. Fittingly, they completely ignore both D.U.M.E. and Gimmie Trouble songs all together-both albums were written and recorded with perma-not third member Sam Consiglio of Tamion 12â€, and their absence both allows a silent acknowledgment of his presence while allocating set-space for songs neglected last time ‘round. During a conversation with Consiglio before the Atlanta “Gimmie Trouble” show, he asked me if I wanted to hear anything specific that night. When I requested Anxiety Always staples “Shake Your Head†and “Kick In The Shins” he shook his head sadly. “Can’t play ‘em, didn’t bring the equipment for that programmingâ€, he told me. This time, laptop-possessing, gear-heavy and stripped of moving parts (other than the banshee whirlwind that is Kuperus’ stage presence), those two songs rail out of Nicola and Adam in a neo-punk fashion, sped up, stripped of glamor and razor-sharp. Resuscitation’s “Minors at Nite†is less mournful and now spiteful, and the new songs, specifically the hardcore head-fuck “I Feel Worse When I’m With Youâ€, became essentially unbearable.
All in all, it’s absolutely amazing, and an experience in having one’s internal panic button pushed to collapse.
It’s weird to be a devoted, up-to-date fan of this stuff, though, because there are inevitable those in the audience who are there for the opening band, and who scream things like “play a song about KRISTIIIN WOOOHOOO†and then point to their sequined halter-top wearing friend. From the stage, though, this goes ignored. However, the standard response when the request comes (as it always does) for “Hand To Phone†is to simply turn the fucking noise up. I spent about fifteen minutes in Athens attempting to convince Nicola to attempt a stripped-down, sped-up, reconstructed version of the piece of her own work she loathes most, in a fashion similar in concept to Blind Melon’s SNL version of “No Rain†(though minus the patchouli, hopefully). That hasn’t happened, to my knowledge, and on this night, “Plagued By Fear†kills that fuss.
It’s that very, very evident disdain, held by Nicola (and Adam also, I assume) for all things early in the maturation of ADULT. that caused my jaw to drop when the closing double-hit medly (a now-tradition of ADULT. shows) consisted of early, forgotten moments-their “telephone game†12†“Don’t You Stop†and “Nite Lifeâ€, a long-lost single on Ghostly’s Disco Nouveau compilation. They’re bitter, they’re pointed, and, when Nicola marches into the crowd like, to borrow wording from R. Kelly, “a ghost from the dead†and begins a half-taunt dance with the crowd, it’s simultaneously creepy and amazing.
This is a band that knows how to push a crowd against the music, against themselves, and into a frenzied, paranoid fit of disbelief and excitement. Unfortunately, those who could be won over from expecting the sound of particleboard hitting a tin toaster in 4/4 time would never give the more-grown ADULT. the time of day. As such, it’s best to view this as an entirely new band, a no-wave neo-proto-post-punk electronic drone duo, one made of angst, noise, and that beloved anxiety. It’s an unwieldy, uncomfortable label, but then the music of ADULT. is nothing if not uncomfortable.
Patrick Wolf may or may not have posted this missive on his own forums saying that he’s leaving music for good in November. Quite frankly, we understand if that’s something he wants to do– all of us here at Res have quit this bidness a few times ourselves, and sometimes it’s refreshing to get away from the whole thing. As much as we love Patrick’s music, it would be selfish of us as fans to beg him not to take a break, even if it’s forever.
Because, quite frankly, no one who burns with that kind of fury takes breaks forever, and we’re not scared for a minute. Even if Patrick’s got things to do other than music, we’ll be keeping track of him no matter what it is he does– if it’s not music, then we won’t feature it in Resonator, but there are always other venues and we are eager to see what this bright star of a person is doing.
Conversely, and I’m not sure that I speak for all at Resonator but here goes– what happened at MisShapes is the sort of thing out of which pop music legend is made. Patrick’s presence and his music have always much more than hinted at mythological proportions, and sometimes the gods get angry– even the playful ones. Was it a mistake? Was it a mess? Does it matter?
Patrick Wolf (and we know that’s not his given name and we STRESS that in this particular point), as such, is above black and white morality. There is something greater that he serves– the place where joy and music and dancing and hedonism and love and sex come together. It is his choice to leave that behind or to betray it or to keep going. But for a moment, for a brilliant, beautiful moment, he has burned as a beacon for those of us who needed to be reminded of magic.
In other less metaphorical news… White Rose Movement’s news page says that they’re laying down tracks for a new record! ABOUT TIME!
That’s all from Trixie for now. I really didn’t have time to do this– but in 8 days, I’ll present my thesis and then go see Patrick at the Union Square Virgin Megastore! <3 you all, and see you in 8 days!
I grew up in Marietta, GA, and as such my public school lunch memories are soundtracked, predominantly, by two things-the sound of rhythmic pounding on lunch tables, and Bone Thugs-N-Harmony’s now-seminal E 1999 Eternal. That album’s two major singles, “Tha Crossroads†and “1st of Tha Month†pretty much defined a sound that’s taken for granted now-layered choirboy harmonies, rapid vocal delivery, violent, intense hip-hop/r&b/gospel amalgam. Akon and Twista owe everything they have right now to Bone Thugs’ coolhigh(as a kite)harmonies, as do most of the lesser hustlers crowding the radio at the moment
(anyone else remember when they were the angel counterpoint to the Satan-and-fire imagery that used to permeate everything Three6Mafia released? God, that was like a decade before…they won an Academy Award. That’s weird to say…)
There’s been more shit, more trials and tribulations in the Bone family, than I care to attempt to chronicle here. Suffice to say, “Tha Crossroads†happened. I grew up. Bone had more side projects and “….Presents…†albums than a handful of Wu-Tangs.
But…the caliber of music just kept slipping.
This year sees the release, finally, of Strength and Loyalty, their long-overdue full line-up album that returns, thematically and musically, to what they’ve always done better than anyone-GangstaGospelRap. I’ve been through this album once and only once, and let my mind drift into the high school nostalgia (Osborne High School reprazent!) that it brought about. Rather than attempt a full-on play-by-play of the album, and rather than attempt to chronicle the old and the new, I’ll let you go on your own mental trip back. In the wake of the attention their contemporaries in Three6 have received in the past year or so (oh, god, HollyHood, anyone?), let’s hit it. This isn’t to wax intellectual introduce anyone to something new, though it may. This is for everyone who has ever found themselves humming that “bone bone bone BONE bone BONE bone bone†intro for no apparent reason and, after recognizing it, mumbled “fuck, I miss Bone. They were better than I realized at the timeâ€-because they were. I didn’t get it at the time-and, fuck, I wish I had.
Not one of the best songs on the new album, and that’s saying a lot-because this is fantastic. I won’t say a damn thing that would spoil where the sample comes from, but once the chorus plays out your mouth’ll be agape. The lyrics-a self-aware musing on what it means for Bone to have been out of the game for as long as they have, and to have watched so many with less talent copy and dilute their formula. And, oh, it’s good. So. Good.
(And both Akon AND Twista guest on the album-proving Bone ain’t mad atcha)
More on and from Strength and Loyalty later. This album is gonna creep on ah come up, for real-just think, the last time they made anything this insistent, iPods didn’t even exist.
The original is a cool little dance rockish/indie rock track that I’ve had for a while. Stumpled upon the remix via Palms Out Sounds recently and was a fan. Took the best elements of the rock track and enhanced it to become a dance floor banger. Win/Win in my book.
I’ve been a fan of The Black Ghosts for a while now, both their original tracks and everyone else’s remixes of their tracks. As such, stumbling upon this one will trying to re-build some of my library was quite a nice little surprise. This isn’t anything that’s envelope pushing, but its a raved up remix with enough rock left over to keep those “we hate rave but love fischerspooner” kids happy.
Prominent busy Chairman of an entertainment giant is seeking a top-notch experienced polished Personal Assistant to coordinate the Chairman’s business, social and personal affairs. This role involves handling business and personal tasks at the Chairman’s office and multiple homes (NY, FL & GA). Serve as a personal liaison between the Chairman and his family. It is imperative that the Assistant has the sophistication to communicate effectively with people at all levels of management and handle highly confidential matters. Due to the Chairman’s extremely busy schedule, the Assistant needs to be accessible on weekends and evenings to handle ongoing activities…
My favorite bit is the “liaison between the Chairman and his family” specification. I assume this means you have to schedule when Diddy gets did.
For the entire help wanted ad, and for instructions on how to apply, check the full listing.
I’ve been in the process of trying to write an article on last week’s heart explosion of an anxiety attack (the ADULT. show), and instead I’m distracted.
From the annals of old old oldschool Casey Spooner, who
Hi kids. Hacks is alive… kinda. I’ve got this brand new macbook pro to replace my old HP that was stolen.. however this one’s CD/DVD is fucked (and in under 5 days!) so I’m returning it for a replacement come this weekend. Good news for you since that means I can post again and talk about how I’m going to record another deejay set but not actually do it!
Anyway, just dropping 2 quick tunes that landed in my email, this time from our friend from Berlin: Napsugar.
Funky little dance floor mash-up of his original production “Somebody Got Lucky”, our boy LT, and then a little snoop thrown in for flavour. Check, check, check it out.
Next we have a remix he did for Rio (ala the Rix del Rio deejay set I posted not too long ago). Starts of cool, moves into a little housey-ness with the the vocals, then drops with a pretty wicked guitar line about half way through; definitely worth a listen, or 3.
I’ve about had it with these m-fing uncreative DJs on these m-fing decks.
But I ain’t mad atcha.
Don’t say there’s no love around here. I’m a jerk, but don’t. Ever.
Ever.
Say I don’t love you.
I’m gonna let XXXchange and the Spank Rock folk show you kids how to play records.
Spank Rock: FabricLive 33
Track List:
01. Intro
02. Kurtis Blow: The Breaks (Universal)
03. CSS: Let’s Make Love And Listen To Death… (Spank Rock Remix) (Sub Pop)
04. Mr Oizo: Nazis (Justice Mix) (F Communications)
05. Dominatrix: The Dominatrix Sleeps Tonight (Stuart Argabright)
06. Yello: Bostich (Universal)
07. Zongamin: Bongo Song (XL)
08. Kano: I’m Ready (Antibemusic)
09. Daft Punk: Technologic (Virgin)
10. Switch: A Bit Patchy (Data)
11. The Contours: Do You Love Me (Motown)
12. Mylo: Drop The Pressure (Breastfed)
13. Yes: Owner Of A Lonely Heart (Rhino)
14. Para One: Dudun Dun (Institubes)
15. Best Fwends: Myself (XXXChange Remix) (Moshi Moshi)
16. KW Griff: Good Man (Morphius)
17. Uffie: Hot Chick (Feadz Edit) (Ed Banger)
18. Metro Area: Orange Alert (DFA Remix) (Source)
19. Tangerine Dream: Love On A Real Train (Virgin)
20. Simian Mobile Disco: Hustler (Wichita)
21. The Romantics: Talking In Your Sleep (Nemperor Records)
22. Chicks On Speed: Wordy Rappinghood (The Playgroup Remix) (Chicks On Speed)
23. Bonde Do Role: Melô Do Tabacco (XXXChange Remix) (Mad Decent)
24. Miss Kittin And The Hacker: Stock Exchange (Miss Kittin)
25. Rick Ross: Hustlin’ (Island Def Jam)
26. Hot Chip: Over And Over (Maurice Fulton Remix) (EMI)
27. Gaz Nevada: I.C. Love Affair (Expanded Music)
28. L.T.D. Love To The World (A&M)
29. Outro
Ok now, granted, there’s some good and bad here. The bad? That fucking Mylo track (again. and again. and again. If I wanted to hear “Drop the Pressure”, I’d go anywhere in Atlanta on a Friday night. I was hammering that shit when you kids were in diapers asking someone to help you pronounce “Goldfrapp”), the CSS crap that’s over and out at this point, the boringness of Metro Area.
The good? Oh, god, you know we at Resonator always big-up R. Jamz for peeping us to that Ricky Ross joint ages before anyone else caught on. That Miss Kittin/Hacker track is some classic stuff from when Fischer met Spooner, Bonde Do Role are so hot right now (albeit overrated, but that comes with the Diplo territory), and holy crap TANGERINE DREAM? Yes. Tangerine Dream.
The love for Spank Rock has been there from the start. Let your ears chug the mix, and then pick it up like a skipping ska record.
Yeah, I mean, there’s a Resonator Mag interview with Spank Rock from 2006 that involved burritos and Hacks impersonating me, as well as obnoxious free-jazz and nekkidity, but that’ll never see the light of day.
Now, while you’re primipin’ and teasin’ I’ll catch up on my readin’.
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