Was once a podcast with Elwood D. Pennypacker (@oldtimeelwood on the Twitter) that went by the old expression "Punk Isn't Dead, It Just Goes to Bed at a More Reasonable Hour".
Presenting a series of short clips, taken mostly from Mr. Pennypacker's mobile cellular device. These clips are, for the most part, utterly horrible - not because of the bands obviously, but because of the nature of the device used to take them. But nevertheless, they stand as a record of Sonic Parthenon giggage, and also they stand because Mr. Pennypacker does not know how to use Bluetooth. As a sample, here is a little of Camera Obscura (yes, I know, I can't stop writing about them!) from their intimate performance at Sound Fix:
Also, the DirtBlanche clips have been moved to this playlist.
Langhorne Slim; Arizona @ Europa Brooklyn, NY - August 31, 2007
Langhorne Slim has been pleasing the local scene and elsewhere with his country-blues-folk-rock for some time now but only now is this writer finally seeing him live. The records are more than satisfactory but they don't do the live show justice. Slim and company blew the crowd away tonight with an enthusiastic, well-spun series of rockers balanced by a few singer-songwriter ballads. It's rare to see such menace woven from an acoustic guitar. Having an upright bass, a classic electric organ, and an excellent drummer behind him certainly cemented the goods for ol' Langhorne. What a show!
Video coming. Pics here. Arizona started off with some roots-rockish and Zeppelin-esque riffs, eventually threw some power chords in the mix, and wound up sounding like a decent middle of the road contemporary rock band. Not quite sure where they want to go with their sound, but at least they sound good in the meantime.
Boy if I had a nickel for every Louisville, Kentucky-based dance-rock band led by an Asian-American... VHS or Beta has had some bad hairdo's. But they cut those messes down en route to their first full fledged Brooklyn show. And it was a show that revealed the best and worst of the club-beat sub-genre of rock n' roll. It was plenty of good-time rockin' dance beats but the laptop which the drummer used went on the fritz and the show had to stop. At the second stoppage, with the crowd getting restless, I hightailed it out of there but not before catching "Can't Believe A Single Word":
More Photos Here Walter Meego was the straight up club act of the night, mixing the Pet Shop Boys with rave/techno and typical club music. When they leaned towards the first element, they were pretty solid but overall - as is par for the course with club music - it got tiring pretty quickly. More importantly, the Meego gang are from Chicago, adding the dance-rock element for what appears to be a growing eclectic Windy City scene.
Team Robespierre are named after one of the most intriguing and compelling figures in world history. The band's music, however, is slightly less compelling. A hardcore punk band with rapid club and electro beats behind them, Team R is probably considered art-punk in some Brooklyn circles but really it's just a bunch of noise. That doesn't mean it's bad, it's just not for everyone. But one word to the moshing hipsters: Take off your backpack when you mosh, you muppets!
The Camera Obscura clip I put up yesterday is the first full song performance clip up but you can also check out terribly made clips of Blanche and the Dirtbombs from a couple years ago as well as something else that I myself did not make.
Blogger now has a video upload feature that also allows for podcasting (!) but either it's broken right now or it just won't accept my videos which means the Sonic Parthenon Video Podcast is on hold for now. But considering I didn't even know I could have one until this morning, that's alright.
There isn't a band cuter, more adorable, than Camera Obscura. And for as cute and adorable as they are, they have equal measurements of talent. They are simply one of the best bands in the world, and the best pop band right now. Their inspirations have never sounded so smooth and flowing, especially on Let's Get Out Of This Country. But in addition to great renditions of the title track, "Tears for Affairs", and "The False Contender", earlier songs like "Suspended From Class" sounded utterly brilliant, as did their little lounge-type cover of Sonny and Cher. The band was a bit overwhelmed by the packed house at little ol' Sound Fix and the accompanying heat and so only played a short set but they made their mark perfectly. The only bad moment was when this writer put the kibosh on lead singer Tracyanne's idea to take the gig to the street, resulting in the label "Mr. Bringdown". I hope she writes a song with that title. Tiny Vipers are a dark-folk two-piece that are very delicate and somber but you can see a warmth underneath itching to get out. And at the same time, the leader has a Patti Smith quality about her.
Camera Obscura; Last Town Chorus @ South Street Seaport New York, NY - August 24, 2007
Night 2 of the Glaswegian's two night stand of free shows was at a packed Pier 17. Again, the band sounded perfect. "Polished" is an almost sterile word but it is apt, apt! Much like Let's Get Out of This Country, there is no filler in the live show. Every song is an ideal gem of blue-eyed Spector-ish songcraft. This is a band ready for the big time. I need to stop this review now before I give myself a sugar overdose. Last Town Chorus is essentially the work of lead singer and exceptional lap steel guitarist Megan Hickey. A fine voice and an amazing musician, Hickey plays some very provoking Indie pop/alt-country melodies, including a smart, ballad-ized cover of Bowie's "Modern Love". Photos here And...Camera Obscura is the first band to have a complete song recorded for Sonic Parthenon TV on YouTube! Presenting "Tears for Affairs":
The weather toyed with the packed crowd at the South Street Seaport for this free show headlined by one of the most talked about bands in the country. Rain cut short the sets of the opening acts but finally cleared for good for the main event. The National are critics' darlings (and darlings of the Boss as well), and they have a pretty large and loyal fanbase which have come into being after two excellent records, Alligator and Boxer. The Cincinnati-by-Brooklyn quintet take their serious music pretty seriously but they seem to have a good time doing it in their congenial, pleasant way. They aren't so much too-cool-for-school up there as they are committed and concentrated and content. Whether they are doing their nimble, lightfooted numbers like "Start A War", or their dark New Wave-inspired single "Mistaken for Strangers", or their one real rocker, "Abel", the National are a fluid operation and their body of work is fast becoming a canon for this generation. The National are the best band to listen to thoughtfully while walking or driving in the New York night, and bathed in the reflective light of the lower Manhattan skyline, they hit all the right notes. Despite the short sets, both the Forms and Takka Takka made an impact. The Forms are more or less on target with their brand of near power-popish indie rock. And Takka Takka's indie rock sounded better this time than at their show at Union Hall a few months ago. And if any of this is inaccurate, then clearly the short sets did cause a cloud under the rain.
Holy hell...the dirty old one man band that is Scott Hiram Biram is still the same dirty, greasy, Texas barbecued blues/metal machine but he has taken it to a whole other level. Playing for about two hours, Biram crammed in as much blues as he could, taking everything down into the sludge (and at times up to the speed) of true pure grit metal. But things took a sharp turn when Scott started messing around on the guitar, including a stretch or two of a methodical anti-jam, and then devoting a significant chunk of time toward the end to feedback and distortion and increased usage of the bullhorn on his megaphone. It was almost reminiscent of avant-garde art rock. Throw in the fact that he now seems to have a sizable fan base (though the crowd did filter down a bit as the show wore on), and one gets that small, slight sense of a whiff of bigger things to come. Openers the Wrong Reasons, down from Providence, are a two-piece country-blues-rock outfit that recall roadhouse affairs ranging from Horton Heat to the Ribeye Brothers. Fitting opener, great start to the show.
Craig Finn is a guy who likes to sing about hoodrats, getting high, bars, parties, Minneapolis, and the Mississippi River. And yet somehow this gets interpreted as being highly literary, as if Colin Meloy of the Decemberists isn't the only literary-minded singer-songwriter with a jarringly off-kilter voice who fronts a very accomplished set of musicians. How literary (last time I use the word, promise) Finn is, is up for debate. But the stories he weaves are compelling. And even more compelling are his frontman antics. And just as compelling are the exuberant antics of his band (particularly the keyboardist whose name I didn't know until recently, and as I am unsatisfied with the name Franz Nicolay, I shall rename him Giuseppe McSorley). And even more compelling than that is the combined joy of the band with the quality of the songs that they play. Put it all together and you have one of the greatest bands in America. I can't recall the last time a bar band was so good and achieved such success. As soon as the Hold Steady began to climb, the backlash began. But as with most things, I'm about a year to two years behind schedule, so as far as I'm concerned, this is one of the most perfect things out there right now. And everyone knows it, really. Especially those young hooligans known as the Rolling Stones who are having the Hold Steady open up for them next week in Dublin. Oh, and for all the months (and for some, years) of "they sound like Springsteen!, they sound like Springsteen!", what I wouldn't give to hear these guys belt out "Bastards of Young". Minneapolis ties and all that. Photos from Dfactor, via Waved Rumor
The Big Sleep have a fitting name. They would have entirely crossed over into snoozeville if it wasn't for their obvious talent-in-waiting. The Big Sleep, unless they were stymied by sound problems, have down all the basics for great rhythms, great backbeats, great songs - but then they don't do anything with it. Where are the melodies? Where are the vocals? What exactly are they trying to do? I only caught the last couple songs of the Teenage Prayers and I wasn't paying much attention but what I heard wasn't too bad.
