Wham City Feet Night

After the full night of psychedelic majesty that was Eyes Night, the Baltimore music collective, Wham City, put on their dancing kicks and metaphorically kicked our asses, mania dripping from the walls of the ‘Sco. It’s a good thing Dan Deacon seems to love us so much, choosing Oberlin for one of the few places both Eyes Night and Feet Night occurred. Fuck midterms; let’s dance.

The longest break we got between 9:30 and 1:00 was a trip in itself: a man and a woman shrouded in light, gazing into each other’s eyes and panting the phrase, “We cut the throats of those who are wrong.” Judging by the standards set by the quirky, neon-splattered family that is Wham City, nothing is wrong. No one is wrong. The more “wrong” the evening becomes with such artists as DJ Dog Dick, The DeathSet, and Lizz King, the more "right" it all feels. No throats cut tonight.

The very structure of the Round Robin tour is testament to the cooperative nature of the collective. Nobody has a bad spot in the room, no band is deemed an “opener,” no microgenres are defined, and the bands collaborate to create well-done multimedia presentations that simultaneously take us back to the 90’s thrust us into the future of pop music. Aesthetically, Dan Deacon always delivers with gusto, green skulls alight, fluorescently decorated equipment abuzz…even the audience becomes a part of the visual experience as the inner circle violently dances in a halo of light, singing along to the culmination of the evening, the Wham City “national anthem” of sorts (appropriately titled “Wham City”) off of the critically acclaimed album Spiderman of the Rings.

Living up to their name, the electro-rock powerhouse Video Hippos also employed visuals in a way that captured attention without distancing us from the musical experience. Perhaps the most entrancing of the videos is that of a human profile, ideas and insecurities about direction, intimacy, and even weight filtering in, bouncing off, and melding into each other as we, in our various boozy, drugged up, or simply amped states stomped our feet, grabbed each other, and stared as human emotional universality struck a surreal chord. Hey, I’ve felt like that before. But now all I care about is dancing, music, and colors, man.

Not all the visuals felt this seamless, however. Lizz King, positioning herself as a Lolita-type figure, combined images in her video for the song, “Booty Queen,” of Tinkerbell getting spanked, Pocahontas and John Smith having sex, JonBenet Ramsey strutting her way underage “stuff” on stage, and most notably, what seemed to be webcam videos of herself in assorted levels of angst and auto-sensuality. Pursing her lips to the camera as she sings, “Ooh la la, ooh la la! She’s just a BABY!” we watched as she jammed her face almost directly into the lens, smudging overdone, burlesque clown-type makeup down her face as she cried. In person, she danced energetically on a table in a series of angles and contortions as she shrieked to the minimalist electro beats and, occasionally, belted out some surprisingly soulful notes in an alto range. Her last song, an eerily slowed-down, robotisized cover of Rihanna’s “Umbrella,” left a slightly bitter taste in my mouth, although it was wonderful to glance around the venue as people, oblivious to the fact that it was perhaps the creepiest cover of “Umbrella” ever, paired up and shared profound drunken eye contact with the grinding partner of their choosing.

“Electrospazz” band Nuclear Power Pants jokes that they’re just happy that people talk about them, even if journalists and bloggers seem to dislike their music. Not this one. Dressed in a two-headed business suit, the two singers probably sang in different keys the whole time, but the vigor with which they were able to belt out their silly and usually unintelligible lyrics as they bobbed their heads and played catchy synth lines completely won me over. The three other instrumentalists were totally decked out in neon green shark outfits which seemed to emit a weird glow. Because the music is intrinsically disjointed rhythmically, it seemed as though some people didn’t really know how to dance to it. So, there was a lot of jumping around, splashes of PBR raining down on us like amber-tinted, electro rain.

Using virtually the same set up, Height bumped shit up to the next level with their subtle use of synth and their robust hip hop beats. Rapper Mickey Free stood on a table, a sinister light showing every detail of his face, as his flow, self-assured, not too fast nor too slow, galvanized an already-intense groove. The strongest of their songs were the rock-rap tour de force, “Smash Your Eyes,” and the gritty, supremely catchy “Bad Weather,” which epitomized Wham City sensibilities in many ways – electrocentric, danceable beats, a complete refusal to pinpoint a genre, and artsy, sometimes irrelevant lyrics, as with the chorus to “Bad Weather”: “You’ve got a safari hat for rugged landscapes. / You’ve got frosty mugs full of drinks I like. / You’ve got tropical feathers on a bad weather bike.”

Employing some elements of hip hop, the predominant dance rock of Smart Growth sparked a fuse with the audience. Although not necessarily memorable or especially original, they kept the energy alive, as did Future Islands. Future Islands had all the typical electro-pop tricks up their sleeves – the increasingly intricate beats, the vamps, the heavy bass…good thing these tricks seem to always work.

Other featured electronic artists included Adventure, a DJ who seemed to love playing in the cage, casually sipping various alcoholic beverages as his high-pitched, heavily arpeggiated melodies assaulted our ears in a way reminiscent of Crystal Castles and Boys Noize put together. The crowd around the cage couldn’t get enough of the twisting of knobs, the and ebb and flow of distortion. Even more seriously distorted was DJ Dog Dick, whose music demanded the audience’s attention through bizarre and sometimes hilarious lyrics, surprising tempo alterations, and sudden switches in beat emphasis. Both DJs seemed oddly apathetic, yet motivated some of the most extreme dancing of the evening.

Famously rejecting the ideals of “hipster apathy” and music constructed around influence, Double Dagger totally ravaged the ‘Sco and became an audience favorite. Right before their first song, “Luxury Condos for the Poor,” vocalist Nolen Strals looked me in the eye as he informed the audience that, “if you move up real close, at the end of this song, we’re all going to be good friends.” He was right. Spending more than half of the time embedded within the crowd, Strals demanded full attention.

Explosive, engaging, and badass, Blood Baby pushed all our buttons at the same time. Besides their incredibly intense appearances (and name), Blood Baby gave Oberlin a crash course in artsy hardcore. Immediately following a Wham City compilation video (soundtrack done by the Creepers from Eyes Night) and an exhibit in hypnosis done especially for those who were the most fucked-up, Blood Baby took the stage for the last time. Punky hardcore songs usually lead to the smashing of things – people, instruments, eardrums, whatever. Double Dagger and Blood Baby successfully accomplished all these things, but not quite to the degree of The DeathSet.

For such a small-statured guys, The DeathSet really know how to rip it up live. You might not guess just by walking around campus, but Oberlin students can really mosh if they want to! As one of their songs ended, I found myself in head-butted disrepair, but completely electrified by their stage presence. Drums, cymbals, audience members, and even band members were thrown and displaced, thrilling even those who thought they’d never like a hardcore show. The DeathSet summed up their appeal best themselves: "Tape deck, select / burning wreck, broken neck, / dirty speck, bitches wet, / motherfuckin’ DeathSet! /In your eye, weapons fly, / don't even try to feel our size, / wonder why the people cry / the motherfuckin' DeathSet!"

If there was anything too good to be true, it was the award Dan Deacon promised for the winner of the dance contest: “If you win, you will become Prince!” Fueled by high-octane electronic madness, various audience members shook what their mamas gave them, gaining screams of approval from those anxious to go head-to-head with other wannabe Princes. Oberlin students have never looked as good as they did in this two-minute span of psychosis, which is probably why no one definitively won this desirable new identity. We can’t all be Prince.

I don’t know much about geography, but I can tell you my favorite city just might be the City of Wham, that luminescent orgy of creativity. After all, “There is a mountain of snow, up past the big glen. / We have a castle enclosed, there is a fountain. / Out of the fountain flows gold, into a huge hand. /That hand is held by a bear who had a sick band.” Not just one sick band, two full nights of sick bands. Plus an after party. Who could ask for more? Aside for maybe a spontaneously magical A on that midterm you forgot to study for.

Akon: The Eternal Creeper

It seems to me that sexual icons that go for the whole playa/gangsta/pimpin thing are inherently creepers, the only differences being the stacks of money flying out of their pants, the forever-present draaank, the abundance of “whatever you smokin’ on,” the pimped-out cars, and their appealing group of friends who are just like them. Take, for example, the eternally creepy Akon, who has a limitless supply of hoes, somehow. It’s probably his new techno-influenced beats. Plus the added bonus that he’s super sincere, romantic, and probably mind-blowingly intelligent.

Or not. Akon is fundamentally confused about his existence, and rightfully so. Famous for his involvement in a car theft ring, his sexual exploitation of 14-year-old girls at shows, outbursts of violence, his new reality show about his relationship to his brother, and his overall “konvict” status, Akon seems to now have no idea who he really is. Most of the songs on the new album, Freedom, are about Akon the Badass (shown brilliantly in “Troublemaker”), Akon the Happy Dude (as in the vomit-inducing “Sunnyday”), Akon the Guy Who Got Out of Prison (displayed in the title track featuring the symbolically striking, ethnic-sounding pan flute), and Akon the Sex God (the 90’s electronica-tinged “Beautiful”). However profound and cultured he wants to sound, lyrics like “See, I’m that type of guy you won’t love. / I’m that type of guy you won’t cuff. / I’m that type of guy you daddy won’t let you go out, cause he thinks I sell drugs. / I’m that type of guy that will save ya. I’m that type that will call you later” show him for what he really is: confused, a little crazy, and sketchy as hell. This puts him on par with all other geniuses, ever.

A highlight of the album is his collaboration with T-Pain entitled “Holla Holla,” in which a heartfelt intro, complete with sweeping organ cadences, romantic acoustic guitar in the background, and Euroclub beats and synth lines set the listener up for a complete, sensual journey. The first verse fortifies the romantic atmosphere, alerting us to the fact that Akon and T-Pain have accoutrements galore: “We got plenty of drank, plenty plenty of water. / We got plenty of dank comin’ from Cali-ifornia.” The scene intensifies from here, with an unbelievably epic chorus focusing on the fact that Akon really wants to holla at this girl, and T-Pain’s really going to help him out, using his magically amplified and spliced voice to repeat that he does, in fact, want to holla at her (six times per chorus, to be precise). The beat is actually the best on the album, as it uses noises other than the hand clap, the poppy bass, and the 90’s synth sound. Despite some of the cool noises, the song ends up as a pseudo-R&B, pseudo-90’s Eurotrash attempt to seduce a girl. After all the yearnings for live lesbian action preceded by rollin’ out in a number of expensive cars in order to perform whichever sexual acts Akon and T-Pain are into (one can only imagine), I was left thinking about the word “holla,” and how (much like the word “lemon”) it lost its meaning after a certain number of repetitions, and now sounds like electronic mush to me.

The singles from this album, “I’m So Paid” and “Right Now (Na Na Na)” both feature the unsurprising, heavy synth, hand claps from all angles, and lyrical repetition of his other hit songs. For example, “Right Now” is just like his previous hit, “I Wanna Fuck You,” except this new song is much more urgent and slightly more emotional, as displayed by the constantly mutating, hurried, and repeated usage of the word “now.” It might actually be a sequel to his previous hit, or perhaps a clarification of intent. Yes, I do want to fuck you. No, not later. Right now, na, na, na, na. The bass-heavy, yet immaculately synth-fueled beat from pop-production purgatory also adds to the urgency and importance of the situation, as do lyrics like, “Just wish you could dine with me, / wish you could dine. / One that would grind with me, / ohh one that would grind.” The storyline here is made especially adorable because Akon happens to be pining for a hoe he had broken up with, and now wants back by his side, grinding and making love to him right now. What a man. How do you say no to that?

Despite having guest artists like Young Jeezy and Lil Wayne, the song “I’m So Paid” lacks something important: a point. Yeah, Akon has a lot of money. He sounds pretty happy, which is exhibited well by the happy melody, the cutesy arpeggiated synth background, and the mysteriously emotional attachment you will feel to money after having listened to both the original and remixed versions of this song, which are both on the album. I guess he really wanted everyone to know that he’s definitely been paid. Lil Wayne does a particularly disappointing job on this song, his voice even more bizarre than usual, his flow boring and slower than usual. The music video, however, is lovely, showing exactly how free Akon now feels as he enjoys his bountiful harvest of money, gliding over the open oceans with beautiful women, and basking in his infinite talent.

Akon himself said, “As soon as I conquer music, I can relax and focus on other things. Right now I’m strictly focusing on ‘Freedom.’’ Too bad Akon’s Freedom is not free at all, constraining itself to every trend in top 40 pop right now. Just mix electronic elements with cheesy lyrics, put a creeper on all the album art, add water, and gulp it down. Have fun conquering music, Akon!

Matt & Kim (my new best friends) at The Grog Shop

A friend of mine asked me what a “grog” was last time I was at the Grog Shop to see Soft Circle, Best Fwends, Matt and Kim, and No Age play. I thought about it for a while, didn’t know the answer, and thought to myself that if “grog” meant something exciting or clever, I could use it as a funny intro for this article. But it actually means “rum cut with water,” which has nothing to do with this show. So, for the purposes of this concert review, “Grog: n. A place a lot like a bigger, more intense, and sometimes more entertaining version of the ‘Sco.”

Soft Circle (AKA Hisham Akira Bharoocha) opened the show with a bang, literally, showering us all with sampled beeps, bloops, swishes, and varying drum distortions, while he complimented it all with live drumming. On his Myspace, he describes his music as “Morphing and melting memories shaped into blissful lightscapes of the past and present.” The music was danceable, technically interesting, and masterfully formulated, with a definite focus on rhythmic progression. As a former member of both Black Dice (up until Creature Comforts) and of Lightning Bolt, Soft Circle is the Brooklyn music scene incarnate. Focused on noise as performance art, Hisham captivated those early enough to enjoy the first opener.
Best Fwends, perhaps the polar opposite of Soft Circle, stormed the stage next, bringing with them some huge, floppy grey things, a park bench, and a backdrop littered with what can only be described as ugly faces (and one cat face). Where Soft Circle was focused on craft and on musical integrity, Best Fwends existed to entertain. I had been previously familiar with their remixes, but never with their original music, which turned out to be a brilliant spoof on hardxcore culture, as I was infinitely reminded of metalcore shows I went to in high school. The gimmick of the two guys being best friends actually worked, as they gave each other sporadic high fives and shared loving banter in between screamy, electronically distorted songs. The grey, lumpy objects on the ground soon revealed themselves to be blow-up gargoyles – huge ones that eventually ended up crowd surfing and consequentially being squished and punctured by enthusiastic fans. My friend who works at Goodwill in Cleveland lamented the fact that he’d probably be given these props the next day at work. The highlight of Best Fwend’s performance was the musical and spiritual culmination entitled “Hail,” which is all about worshiping Satan. Both of the present band members marched ceremoniously into the audience, hands poised in prayer position, looking profoundly convinced of Satan’s grandeur.

After setting up a projection of Zoolander onto the wall of the Grog Shop, Matt and Kim, the most joyous band alive, made our ears twinkle and our toes tap uncontrollably with their Brooklyn indie pop gems. Both humble and insanely smiley, seeing Matt and Kim live was an overwhelmingly happy experience. Songs like “Yea Yeah” (which has the most stereotypically “indie” music video ever) and “Lightspeed” (which is about a super cute game of baseball) rendered amazing crowd responses, crescendoing into Matt’s positively adorable attempts to hang on the ceiling. Having Zoolander playing in the background actually added some interesting light effects to the show, as every once in a while, Kim’s drumsticks would leave light tracers in which you could potentially see Ben Stiller or Will Ferrell’s face. I swear, Kim never stopped smiling, and Matt never stopped enjoying the cool effects he had on his new keyboard. If there ever was a band I would love to be best friends with, it’s Matt and Kim.

Did you see No Age last year at the ‘Sco when they opened for Liars? Oh, you did? Well, this performance was exactly the same. I enjoy listening to Weirdo Rippers and Nouns every once in awhile, but I must admit that most of their songs lack originality within the context of their full body of work. The result is that their live show lacks excitement. Ok, so it was really boring. The most effort they put into connecting with the audience was walking out a few feet, surrounding themselves with people for a couple minutes, then returning to the stage for more guitarcentric, underproduced rock music with indecipherable lyrics and little, if any, musical aptitude. The drums sounded messy, the guitar was overbearing, and the interesting textures present on their recorded material got washed over by the amount of flair they were trying, and failing to have.

A trip to the Grog Shop is sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself. Think about it: four decent bands in quick succession, an escape from the Oberlin bubble, the presence new faces you don’t recognize awkwardly from class or “that one party,” and a noticeable absence of ‘Sco smells… Also, if you’re 21, they do serve grog.

Kings of Leon: Kings of Europe and...Not Much Else

I remember listening to my friend’s shitty indie rock band practice covers of Kings of Leon songs in high school. Albums like Aha Shake Heartache (2005) and Because of the Times (2007) succeed in their ability to appeal to fans of The Strokes and Interpol, but also fans of country and blues. The sound was edgy, raw, and sounded easy to emulate, but actually wasn’t at all (at least for my friend’s band). The vocal techniques and dynamic songwriting were refreshingly unique during the reign of one-dimensional dance rock in MTV culture. Released on September 23rd, the King’s of Leon’s new album entitled Only By the Night is, for the most part, a far cry from any of their previous efforts. The guitar hooks sometimes remind me of cheesy pop punk from the 90s, and the overall sound is highly reminiscent of Band of Horses or even a Tennessee-based version of Coldplay. There is, however, the occasional gem on Only By the Night, such as the opening track “Closer,” in which the melodramatic lyrics are overshadowed by the sheer catchiness and rhythmical complexity of it all, making it the strongest song on the entire album. The first single, “Sex on Fire,” also has a memorable chorus, but lacks in every other department. The opening 50 seconds sound like a bizarre mixture of My Morning Jacket, The Strokes, and Sting, all leading into Caleb Followill’s massively emotive and bluesy bellows of “You / your sex is on fire, / consumed by what’s to transpire.” Hey, they never made any claims at eloquence. It might be time to start questioning the ultimate goals the Kings of Leon had in mind with this album. With their image taking the front seat, the Kings of Leon are enjoying phenomenal success in Europe. So they can hold on to their southern swagger, tight jeans, and overblown egos for dear life as loyal fans of old Kings of Leon pay $3 at the door to see their friend’s cover band play shitty versions of “Charmer” and “Four Kicks.” I’ll see you there.

Interview with Ratatat's Mike Stroud

Mike Stroud: Where’s your neck? Hiding hickies under there?

Litter Paragon: Uh…I just thought I’d wear my cat scarf to your show. Which was great by the way.
MS: Thanks. I hope I don’t smell too bad. I’m really sweaty.

LP: Haha, everyone is, I think. How do you like it here? Have you or Evan (Mast) ever been to Oberlin before?
MS: This is our first time. It just seems really small. I don’t know. I was just in the bus and then in this building here, and then that ‘Sco place. It seems good. Do you like it?

LP: Yeah, I love it. You and Evan met at college, right?
MS: Yes, at Skidmore, but we hardly knew each other really. And we didn’t really play together until 2001 or something like that. I was a classical music major, and then I realized the whole college thing is kind of bullshit and I left after two years. Like, it’s so motherfuckin’ expensive, you know? And as a musician, you just have to do it. A lot of music business you can’t learn in school.

LP: How did you first cultivate your highly recognizable sound?
MS: What do you mean?

LP: Usually, with both your remixes and your original work, you can immediately recognize it as Ratatat.
MS: We just make music. The new record was mostly recorded in two days. There was no time to plan ahead. Evan had some beats or whatever, and then we just slammed through the rest of it.

LP: How much of the melodic content is charted out, or planned before hand?
MS: None of it. It’s mostly improv.

LP: Where do you find more inspiration, in hip hop or in electronic music?
MS: I kind of hate electronic music. And I hate modern hip hop too, actually. The kind of music that influences me most in making the melodies and everything is classical music. All the remix shit, all that stuff – that’s Evan’s thing, not mine. If I listen to hip hop, it’s stuff like Wu Tang.

LP: Funny you should mention Wu Tang. GZA was here a little over a week ago.
MS: You get a lot of good music here, don’t you?

LP: Yeah; it’s amazing. You’re touring with some great artists yourself – how is tour going?
MS: It’s so good. The guy from Panther and I have become really tight over the past couple weeks. It’s crazy. My favorite band to tour with, ever, probably.

LP: A lot of people expect to see two traditional DJs, bent over laptops when they see you live, which is not at all what you do. How do you decide which parts to play live, which parts to sample…?
MS: We were never going to be just some laptop band. I don’t know. We just play what we think will bring more energy to the show.

LP: You said you don’t like electronic music…but the new Animal Collective remix of your song “Mirando” is being called a 10-minute techno masterpiece. How do you feel about that?
MS: Honestly I couldn’t care less.

LP: Really? It’s a milestone for Animal Collective to be remixing. Do you like Animal Collective?
MS: Uh…I don’t know. I just don’t really care.

LP: Do you even like the remix albums that you guys have put out?
MS: I guess they’re ok. But that is Evan’s thing. I don’t have much of a say in it.

LP: You’re a big part of the Brooklyn music scene. How do you like it there?
MS: I love it. We’ve been focusing on our own shit lately, but it’s a good place to be for music and stuff. Where do you live?

LP: Colorado. But I’ll probably end up in Brooklyn like most other Oberlin graduates.
MS: Oh yeah? Where in Brooklyn?

LP: I’m not sure –
MS: Oh, ok, I get it, I get it. You don’t want to tell me where you live.

LP: No, I just don’t kn-
MS: Well, I’ll give you my exact address – I’ll tell you exactly where I live. I live at ________ in Williamsburg. You can come party with us. Why so mysterious? Just tell me where you live! Where do you live?!

LP: I don’t know yet!
MS: Ok. I’ll give up. Any more questions?

LP: Yeah! Your music has been featured on TV, in movies, in Louis Vuitton fashion shows, and even in hospitals where new mothers are giving birth, according to Pitchfork. How does this kind of ubiquity feel?
MS: I mean, I guess we just don’t really pay that much attention. It’s kind of weird, I guess.

LP: Well, it was a fantastic show. Congratulations on the new album and the international tour. Where are you most excited to go?
MS: We really like Switzerland, Europe in general I guess.

LP: Very cool. Well, it was nice meeting you. Have a good tour.
MS: You too.

Ratatat Kicks it From Their Heads @ the 'Sco

There were only two surefire ways this show could have gone down: gloriously, majestically, energetically as familiar beats and intertwined melodies caressed our welcoming eardrums, or with an unpleasant fire alarm due to the significant amounts of marijuana being consumed within the ‘Sco directly before Ratatat came on stage as impatient potheads looked around nervously, muttering “Where’s the weed at?” As the sold-out audience filtered out of the ‘Sco a little after 1 AM, saturated in sweat and thoroughly bruised, exhausted, and euphoric, I was thankful only that, wherever the weed was at, only a few bowls were consumed.

The highlights derived not only from the headlining Ratatat, but also from openers E*Rock and Panther, both of which performed as headliners would. E*Rock, one of many DJs out there going for the masked look, is prolific in many respects as the founder of Audio Dregs Records in Portland, OR as well as a visual artist and illustrator. Although the gritty sound of textured electronic layers and distortions may be immediately comparable to DJs such as Boys Noize or other masked DJs, the Bloody Beetroots, E*Rock’s usage of acoustic samples, toy instruments, and live percussion set him apart from other “bangers” out there. The overall effect of the black mask was one of complete emersion, allowing the audience to experience the live music as an entity in and of itself instead of as an aesthetic companion to recordings, which allowed for instantaneous energy, the culmination of which consisted in panoramic, neon explosions taking place in the background as E*Rock writhed and thrashed about on stage with a small, white device in each hand delivering intense deconstructions of sound and electronic mayhem. The usual milling around and gradual build of interest in the show certainly did not apply here – many loyal Ratatat fans found their spots during E*Rock’s set and danced their asses off until the very end.

Perhaps a tad more accessible to fans of both electronic and indie rock, Panther, also from Portland, took the stage by storm. Opening with the catchy tune, “Puerto Rican Jukebox,” Charlie Salas-Humara hit it with an infectious stage presence complete with a cutesy dance he calls “floor dancing” (he fancies himself the originator of said dance) and a slightly blemished singing voice which echoed with an undeniable charm around the ‘Sco. Using everything from guitars and drums to create a more traditional rock n’ roll sound to samplers and voice distortion, sleigh bells, and bongos to add the trademark Panter quirks, Salas-Humara was on top form. He even tipped his metaphysical hat to us during his set, calling the show the best he has had so far. Although the first song was perhaps the best of the set, the gusto of the audience kept steadily increasing as dreams of Ratatat shifted like sugar plums in our collective one-track mind.

It seemed like hours before Ratatat made their appearance on stage, but the audience certainly bemused themselves in the meantime, shouting different variations on the word “Ratatat” at various intervals (I heard “Rat Tits,” “Tatatar,” and “Rata-tata-tat” the most often, as well as the occasional “I’m going to Ratatat on you”). As soon as guitarist Mike Stroud and producer/synthesizer wizard Evan Mast meandered on stage with friend and big-haired touring accessory, Jacob Morris on keyboards, the crowd shared in a moment of frantic excitement, some people being knocked over even before any music started.

The set opened with a downtempo number from their new album, LP3, entitled “Brulee.” Despite the relaxed nature of the song and the delightful, twinkly piano samples, people were already being pushed to and fro and back again. Ratatat has been known for their live performances, which is mainly a product of cleverly designed set lists. Because there are sometimes a dozen or more parts occurring simultaneously in a given song, an entirely live performance would be practically impossible. Therefore, Ratatat sticks to formula, choosing three parts to focus the audience’s attention on, relying on samples for the rest of the work. The result is predictable, yes, but organized in a way where one cannot possibly feel a drop in energy. Opening with songs like “Brulee” and the next tune, “Mi Viejo,” Stroud and Mast captured our attention with live Latin percussion and Spanish-inspired minimalist melodies. Many eager fans had already lost their front-row status at this point, some people being pushed almost entirely on stage by the swelling masses wishing for a better look.

By the third song, and second single off of LP3, “Mirando,” chaos had ensued within the ‘Sco. This was perhaps the most interesting song to see performed live, as it is one of the more melodically complex tracks off of the new album. The band members themselves seemed more in-touch with their music during this and other newer tracks such as “Bird Priest.” Crowd favorites were undeniably “Lex” and “Wildcat” (which actually uses a sample of an actual wildcat roaring), although I couldn’t help but notice that, when I closed my eyes, I could have been just be listening to Classics on high volume in a room full of sweaty, dancing college students. Innately energetic as progressive songs, the fact that the band members seemed slightly bored or tired during these performances did little to diminish the overall effect. Jacob Morris, however, seemed to become more comfortable on stage as time went on, occasionally humping their stage crew or Mike Stroud during less active musical sections.

“I've been rapping for about seventeen years, okay? / I don't write my stuff anymore I just kick it from my head; / you know what I'm sayin’? / I can do that. / No disrespect, but that’s just how I am.” Thus opened what seemed to be the decisive crowd favorite, “Seventeen Years.” As the Baroque-inspired guitar riffs and powerful hip hop groove led into a single note jam, and finally to a chilled-out, simple beat accompanied by chorale-style harmonies, the energy finally subsided. Despite a few missed notes, this encore was a perfect sendoff for the most successful show the ‘Sco has seen lately. They can do that. No disrespect, but that’s just how it was.

Ratatat - "Mirando" (mp3)
Ratatat - "Seventeen Years" (mp3)

WOBC Fall Preview

If you are like one of the 125 lucky recipients of a radio show on 91.5 FM WOBC, Oberlin Community and College Radio, congratulations! You can now put your hundreds upon hundreds of gigabytes of virtually unknown music to use, serenading friends, families, professors, stalkers, and mysterious international listeners 24 hours a day, seven days a week!

As the second largest student organization on campus, WOBC is a medium through which Oberlin students and community members can express themselves through whatever brand of strange music they’re into. Shows on WOBC really do run the full musical gamut. Everything from rock/pop to classical, from electronic to jazz, from metal to freeform…it’s all on the air, helping to make WOBC Princeton Review’s #6 college radio station.

This year in particular marks a few milestones for WOBC. Two of our staffers have started working with a newly added genre – R&B and soul, which has inspired a certain degree of divergence from old trends in programming, adding more from this genre to the mix. Programming Director Matt Friberg also commented that he has been surprised by the amount of shows focusing on blues this year in particular.

Fluctuations in programming like this could be due, in part, to the many eager first-year DJs. Although much of the selection process for shows is based on seniority within WOBC and past commitment to the station, the first-years play an important role, helping to make the station one of the few smaller college radio stations able to broadcast at all hours. So when you hear your roommate’s alarm going off for their show at 4 AM, roll over and go back to sleep, thinking of how noble they are in their efforts to play music for anyone who happens to want a radio fix in the middle of the night. Yes, children, there are people listening. In fact, I once got a call-in request for Depeche Mode at 5 AM.

This year, a main goal for the station is to “broaden exposure,” Friberg informed me, “so it’s not just DJs in a booth anymore. We want to interact and engage with the college and community.” One of the different ways WOBC plans on branching out is through WOBC nights at the ‘Sco. These will feature station DJs playing some of their favorite music on Friday nights once or twice a month, the first of these being Friday, October 3rd with R&B and soul night. Another exciting development is Studio B, which is a fully functioning space for bands to record reel-to-reels, perform live on air, and for WOBC DJs to interview speakers or bands that are stopping through.

Some of the most innovative and unique shows come from Oberlin community members. This year, on a show called “Heist School Musical” (Saturdays, 10 AM – noon), an Oberlin High School class plays some of their favorites, the tag line being, “We're gonna take WOBC back from all you college punks, and bring it to some high school-aged lovers of radio. We've listened to your shows for a long time now, so hear what we've got to say.” The Oberlin Unitarian Universalist Fellowship also has a show. This talk show, entitled “Connections” (Thursdays, 10-11 AM) brings in members of the fellowship as well as professors and other community members to “explore issues of local and global consequence in our post-modern world.” Another interesting addition this year is “Spirals of Everlasting Change” (Thursdays, 2-4 AM), which is a freeform show focusing on the roots of experimental and industrial music brought to us by Chang, who was involved with seminal 70s noise music, having been in an important noise group called Non. And these are just three of the approximately 125 shows you could tune into.

In order to get shows, students and community members have to propose a cohesive idea. This could be something enthralling that could bridge the gap between genres and make something avant garde or under-the-radar a little more accessible, something that throws you back in time, something thought-provoking, or maybe even something a little silly. Despite some common stigmas about the station, WOBC is not necessary a pretentious institution. As Friberg put it, “To be pretentious is not the goal of the WOBC DJ. To have the attitude that ‘Oh, I win. I’ve heard this song before and you haven’t’ is not the intent. You’ll hear a lot of pop shows that aren’t what you’re going to hear on top 40 radio. It’s a learning experience.”

So listen to your friends’ shows, wake up to some new music, or turn on the radio while you’re trying to finish up that essay late at night. Who knows, if you listen enough, you could maybe even start figuring out your friends’ Shakespeer nicknames. You can listen at 91.5 FM, or from the webcast at www.wobc.org.

Of Montreal Is Funking Crazy

...and Kevin Barnes wants to make you cum 200 times a day.

Allow me to introduce you to Georgie Fruit. He is a middle-aged black man who has had multiple sex-change operations. He used to be in a funk band called Arousal. He was also in prison for a while. It is through Georgie Fruit, Kevin Barne’s glitter-wearing on-stage alter ego, that the new Of Montreal album, Skeletal Lamping, is narrated.

Based on what Barnes said on his blog about the meaning behind the title Skeletal Lamping, it seems as though it would have been a more appropriate title for his 2007 album, Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?: "Lamping is the name of a rather dreadful hunting technique where hunters go into the forest at night, flood an area in light, then shoot, or capture, the animals as they panic and run from their hiding places." Where Hissing Fauna is structured as a confessional, often blunt and revealing, Skeletal Lamping is hypersexed and scatterbrained, perhaps showing brief glimpses into the hidden depths of Barnes’ psyche, but is primarily concerned with musical experimentation. If you are the kind of Of Montreal fan who loves dancing to “She’s a Rejector,” relates tragically to every word in “The Past Is a Grotesque Animal,” and sings “Your Magic is Working” to all the subjects of your indie wet dreams, Skeletal Lamping might come as a shock.

“My lover, I’ve been donating time to review all the misinterpretations that define me and you.” This first line gives away the repeated lyrical question: Who am I? Gender ambiguity and identity crises have always played into Of Montreal’s music somehow, but when Barnes allows his alter ego to take control, he ditches everything that’s PC and tender about indie rock and moves on to Tourette’s-style lyrics and an unclassifiable genre (unless there is a label for music that sounds like a schizophrenic orgy with Italian disco, Prince, the Beatles, Billy Joel, HEALTH, and the Ohio Players). This combination of influences is sometimes bizarre, yes, but the album is divided into 15 songs, each of which is divided into many 30-50 second segments, making the leaps between funk, electro, and classic rock more stomachable.

The sudden stylistic shifts throughout Skeletal Lamping cut down on the amount of time Of Montreal used to spend vamping, and as a result, this album is anything but lethargic. However, I found myself settling into grooves only to have them jarringly dropped. Of Montreal could have made three beautiful, and still conceptually interesting albums with this material if they had only separated and extended the ideas. Someone please refill Kevin Barnes’ Adderall prescription.

Approaching this album from the perspective of Georgie Fruit let Barnes release his arrogant asshole side. You think you’ve already seen Barnes’ ego parading around in couture and preaching about an ideal world in which everyone reads old, French philosophy? Well, think again. The second, and funkiest track, “Wicked Wisdom” starts off with old-school drum effects, subtle use of harmonica, and funky bass. Channeling both Prince’s attitude and vocal abilities, Barnes declares that he is “the motherfuckin’ headliner, bitch you don’t even know it.” As with many of the tracks on this album, it fizzles out by the end, this time with dissonant synthesized harpsichord arpeggios and exquisite, overlapped falsetto chanting.

I usually like it when Of Montreal takes the tempo down a little, even when it comes with a strong dose of melodrama. The two-minute-long, reverb-heavy downtempo track on Skeletal Lamping is the clear low point of the album, and as Barnes asks, “Why am I so damaged, girl? Why am I such poison, girl? I don’t know how long I can hold on if it’s gonna be like this forever” I feel my cursor hovering over the “next” arrow out of pure boredom.

The one slow jam that fits coherently into Skeletal Lamping to me is a song called “St. Exquisite’s Confessions” that could seamlessly appear in Purple Rain, and opens with Barnes singing “I’m so sick of suckin’ a dick of this cruel, cruel city” with all his heart. If you could not speak English, you would probably guess from his vocal commitment that he was speaking of a broken heart and not of metaphysical fellatio. He goes on to say, “I’ve gotten what it takes to please a woman, but that’s all gonna change. Now the freaks wanna take me home to see if the rumors are true.” There is an artful confidence about this song that makes it surprisingly exquisite, and one of the best on the album. It then progresses to showcase Barnes’ incredible ability to make the word “bitch” sound like a warm summer breeze, and ends with funky beats and distorted vocal harmonies, bringing back elements of their trademark style.

If you enjoyed some of Of Montreal’s crazier stuff in the past, you will cream yourself when this album comes out legally on October 7th. I find it to be the height of Barnes’ creativity and musical innovation, albeit in acquired taste. It is not as melodically stable, but it is captivating and extremely witty. I would rather listen to this album than much of their earlier work, and find it to be intellectually stimulating as well as unexpectedly danceable. I wish I could print every single bizarre sexual line within this album, but part of the charm of Skeletal Lamping is having the “animals” of Barnes’ subconscious jump out at you when you least expect it.

Here are a few of my favorite and harder-to-find tracks from this album:
"St. Exquisite's Confessions" (mp3)
"Wicked Wisdom" (mp3)

My Favorite Fall/Winter '08 Looks So Far

I'll start with the best, which is Chanel, of course.
(Video is of the Fall/Winter Haute Couture line fashion show.)

Can you believe this is Claudia Scheiffer in a wig? Words can't describe how much I love this look. Chanel always pulls out the best for fall/winter.

I LOVE when Burberry steps away from London hubbub and bright lights and pulls out the black and white, romantic ads.

You may recognize Sam Riley from Control (the Joy Division movie).

ANNA SUI

I love the mood of this photograph. The colors are all so rich and decadent, whereas the clothes themselves reach back into the folk art movement. I can really appreciate Anna Sui, although I don't think I would necessarily wear these outfits (and especially not those leggings, which remind me of high school girls wearing heavily patterned leggins in an attempt to "mix it up" or become more "alt").

PHI

Burlesque chic.

Dolce & Gabana...always overflowing with creativity. Fall/Winter '08 is all about deep colors, an elegant earthiness... These two adds really speak to both sides of the coin. Again, the folk art movement coming back with some of the clothing below. But notice how the second ad takes the same sort of "stormy" vibe and transplants that to the city. These city girls look edgier than the people in the first ad, but are somehow rooted in the same abstract place as the first. Brilliant.

LONGCHAMP...Always classy & romantic. Kate Moss at her finest.

I love Matson Jones.

(Note: Due to the tall people in front of me, this is the most "in-focus" picture of Matson Jones I was able to get.)

You know, sometimes I get excited about "rock music," but only when the sound is truly unique. Matson Jones is nothing if not one-of-a-kind. Two adorable indie chicks in vintage dresses playing cellos. Upright bass. Aggressive drums. Whenever I became homesick for Fort Collins, I always put them on. I think of them as an underground staple for the city, so for them to take such an extended hiatus profoundly pained me.

Seeing them live, as I did at the Aggie Theatre on Friday night, is definitely an emotional experience every time. Not only are the lyrics replete with power struggle after power struggle (which is something I think we can all relate to, unfortunately), there is also the visual punch in the gut of two beautiful girls singing in violent and woeful tones about being dominated by those they wish to burn out of their thoughts. "A Little Bit of Arson Never Hurt Anyone" is an excellent example of their brilliant use of contrasting imagery and juxtapositional timbres (much like a quirky, indie rock version of the Nirvana loud/soft paradigm):

I've got people to see
And places that I need to burn down
And people that I need to burn out of my head

And I know a kiss on the cheek
Will not take care of everything
But you'd better give it to me anyways dear

My arms, my arms
Could be broken but you wouldn't be charmed
My legs, my legs
Could be broken but I'd still have to beg.

It certainly is an emotional trip to be in a cramped venue, seeing every possible sort of person singing along and throwing themselves around to Matson Jones' music. I highly suggest you download a few of their songs. Matson Jones is way more than a local band to me; it defines a period of my life that I feel is never quite over, and brings out the inner feminist in me I suppose (but not in a crazy way, so don't worry.)

Some of my favorite Matson Jones tracks:
"Italian Song"
"Good Advice"
"He Means Nothing, Dear"

On another note, MAGIC CYCLOPS opened for Matson Jones. Basically, it's a dude who plays some previously recorded stuff on his MacBook Pro (hidden by the suitcase it's in) and acts like he's Axl Rose while singing / air guitaring / power kicking over the instrumental stuff he's come up with. He did songs about teen pregnancy, Iowa (my friend got to hold the Iowa flag for him), a cover of Bonnie Tyler's "Turn Around," and other short songs I can't remember because I was too distracted by him pulling an inhaler out of his crotch or chocolate out of his trousers. It was actually really funny. I liked it. On his Myspace (link above), he has various videos and sells locks of his hair. Check it out.

BUT it wasn't all fun and games. There was a guy who wasted our time by telling pretentious, artsier-than-thou stories before the show started, which were actually just depressing and kind of pathetic. I didn't like that. I also don't like Monofog - the most overrated "indie" rock band in Colorado. Ultimately though, the pros outweighed the cons.

(Note: the Myspace link provided for Matson Jones above isn't official...but it has several downloads.)