Three Imaginary Girls - The Black Angels

The Black Angels at The Showbox

Andrew Boe — Fri, 13 May 2011 14:48:18 +0000

10 May 2010

Black_Angels_live.1.jpg

Even though they are few and far between, every once in a while a band with lasting power comes out of nowhere. The Black Angels is certainly one of them. At this point, they have been around long enough to release three LPs while continuing to steadily grow in popularity, but they still seem like a recent discovery. The group was just here in November, but that didn’t stop fans from filling up the Showbox for their appearance. From the moment that they climbed aboard the stage on Tuesday evening, Austin’s best psychedelic entourage had the audience in a drugged out trance.

Amidst a black and white backdrop and heavy strobe lights, The Black Angels were captivating no matter what substances anybody was under the influence of. Their first record, the Velvet Underground meets Thirteenth Floor Elevators meets Spacemen 3 masterpiece, Passover, was well represented in the setlist. The filthy, droning “The Sniper at the Gates of Heaven” sounded as good as ever and the immortal dirge “Black Grease,” with its angry, loosely anti-war “kill kill kill kill” refrain was moving. Singer, Alex Maas, was pouring himself into this one, as always.

Personally, their second album, Directions to See a Ghost, is the one at the top of my list. It is sonically spacier than the first record and is the most dynamic of their releases. For instance, “You on the Run” is a slow, driving number that contains all of the elements that make The Black Angels great: cavernous echo, tribal drumming and hypnotic bass. It goes without saying that the live rendition was one of the highlights. “Science Killer,” with its wonderful cadence led by the rhythm section was also performed. The lights and the backdrop made the Showbox seem like the stage was spinning.

Several tracks from the recent, poppier Phosphene Dream LP were interspersed amongst the older favorites. Even though the record has more of a 1960s pop feel to it and is a few shades darker than its predecessors, the material all gelled together in a uniform performance. Of the newer songs, the concert and album opener “Bad Vibrations” was not only a good song to begin with, but also a fitting way to take command of the stage. “Telephone,” which sounds like it should have been a hit for someone 45 years ago, was given a slightly rougher, louder stomp than the album version. The tracks from Phosphene Dream were altogether grimier sounding than on record.

There are a few gaps in the setlist. If anyone knows what songs I am missing, please comment below.

Setlist:

Bad Vibrations

The Prodigal Sun

Entrance Song

The Sniper at the Gates of Heaven

The Sniper

Surf City

Haunting at 1300 McKinley

Black Grease

Telephone

You on the Run

Ronettes

----------------------

Young Men Dead

You In Color

Black Angels giveaway: free tickets and signed poster

imaginary dana — Wed, 22 Oct 2008 17:43:05 +0000

Free tickets, free signed poster, yo.

Noise for the Needy 2008: the Black Angels and the Warlocks

Jon Harthun — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 15:31:52 +0000

11 Jun 2008

blackangels08june1.jpg

Having been my third Black Angels show, I'm tempted to use cliches like "third time's a charm" or "perfection in threes,"blah blah blah. I'll spare you. But if you somehow managed to pass up not one but two opportunities to catch the Warlocks and the Black Angels playing on the same bill in one night (a second later show was added after the first one sold out), well, then shame on you.

As a whole, the Warlocks left something to be desired. They sounded great, but after obsessing over their last few releases, I felt like their live show lacked that punch they can put in your headphones. The performance was too much Dandy Warhols meets the Smashing Pumpkins and not enough Velvet Underground meets the Jesus & Mary Chain, like Heavy Deavy Lover served up. The set was solid, I'll give 'em that. But it was like getting "B" work from an 4.0 student; it's not bad, but you sure as heck know they're capable of more.

As for the Black Angels, they've really outdone themselves... again. With flashing lights, jam sessions, and bizarre vintage footage from only god-knows-where, the Black Angels' live show, much like their latest efforts, felt a little older and wiser since my last two experiences.

I guarantee you any bad review this band has ever gotten is from someone who won't take the time to get off their "just another retro psych-rock band" high horse and experience what sets this band far apart from other decade-centric, genre recycling bands: their capabality to shatter everything you thought you knew about them as a studio band, and throw every sharp shard back at your judgmental skull the moment they set foot on stage.

The Setlist:

If you somehow managed to pass up not one but two opportunities to catch the Warlocks and the Black Angels playing on the same bill, well, then shame on you.

Directions to See A Ghost

Jon Harthun — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 17:43:28 +0000

http://www.amazon.com/Directions-See-Ghost-Black-Angels/dp/B0015N0786/wwwthreeimagi-20/

black-angels-album-cover.gif

It's not everyday a band can hand over a sophomore release without worrying about unmet expectations. For starters, Passover is arguably one of the most impressive debut albums of the 2000s, period. An album with such power and innovation at such an early point in a career could have easily meant unreachable expectations for future releases. Unlike many bands, the Black Angels found a way to avoid that 'sophomore slump' cliché with Directions to See a Ghost. If you've ever seen the band live, you'll know how much intensity they can create out of thin air. Directions completely captures that intensity, while moving in matured territories. Yes, Passover was charting waters 99% of modern bands don't bother to seek out, but this album does it all over again, taking even more risks at not just ear splittingly loud proportions, but with painstakingly passionate and innovative forces to boot.

To put it bluntly, Directions is the Brian Jonestown Massacre with balls. It's the electricity and magnitude of Velvet Underground live shows, Andy Warhol visual effects and all. Directions is the brains behind of any Warlocks release, but with the rawness, ingenuity, and aggressiveness original psychadelia and acid rock were all about. This is Krautrock with the levels maxed.

Though a few songs may sound like dead ringers for tracks off Passover (“You In Color,” “You on the Run”), the album rises above the charred remains of the world the Black Angels dropped its first bomb on and begs you to ask the question: how loud can my stereo get? With swirling vocals that would make My Bloody Valentine jealous (“Science Killer”), and sitar strumming that might get Anton Newcombe kicking in skulls (“Deer-Ree-Shee”), Directions to See Ghosts might just be the first enviable release of 2008. Not because you want, or need to buy it, but because more artists will want and need to sound like this.

Directions is the Brian Jonestown Massacre with balls.

Noise for the Needy festival finalizes lineup

imaginary dana — Thu, 01 May 2008 17:18:13 +0000

Noise for the Needy has announced the final lineup for their 2008 festival, which takes place June 11-15 at various venues around Seattle and raises funds for Urban Rest Stop.

Noise for the Needy announces shows with Matt & Kim, YACHT, No-Fi Soul Rebellion, Two Gallants, and Black Angels

imaginary dana — Sat, 05 Apr 2008 01:31:53 +0000

This JUST in: local non-profit Noise for the Needy has just pre-announced some great show dates for their forthcoming 2008 musical festival.

Anyone Know Who Is Playing Neumo's on Monday Night?

ChrisB — Tue, 22 May 2007 14:21:31 +0000

Lineout is guessing that the Black Angels are the "secret special guest headliner" at Neumo's with Vietnam and Whalebones on Monday. Anyone else have any idea? Good guesses? Insider info? Irresponsible rumor-mongering?

Here's a video of the Black Angels' song "The First Vietnamese War" in keeping with the Vietnam and YouTube themes:

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and The Black Angels

JimiC — Mon, 21 May 2007 05:16:28 +0000

13 May 2007

blackrebelmotorcycleclub07may.jpg

Long review. Longer show.

Sunday night is a rough night for a rock and roll show, as the weekend has generally taken its toll by then, but the Showbox filled up early for Austin’s The Black Angels, who stepped in to replace the Horrors and the Fratellis on this part of the BRMC tour. As interested as I was in seeing the two bands-o-dropouts, I think the Black Angels were a much better match in vibe for the headliners.

I’ve been sporadically listening to the Black Angels debut LP, Passover, for a little while and like it quite a bit, but this was my first live experience with them. From their first notes, the mood was set: deliciously dark and lasciviously lysergic. They make the kind of music the term psychedelic (and you know I love that term) was born to describe. On record singer Alex Maas recalled for me the Gun Club’s tragic and gifted frontman Jeffrey Lee Pierce, but live he managed to convey a presence more akin to Jim Morrison, simultaneously introverted and yet out in front selling the songs with great verve… and speaking of “verve,” he had a vocal timbre in similar to I-still-refuse-to-use-the-legally-mandated-“The” Verve’s Richard Ashcroft.

By the second song into the set, “The Prodigal Son,” their second guitarist switched to a floor tom (a move repeated oft through the evening) enhancing the Doors/tribal comparison. The pounding drums became hypnotic, mantra-like, but led to no release. In fact, it often felt like all songs were played at one tempo, which was simultaneously enrapturing, but also a bit frustrating. The throb of the rhythm section along with the dense guitar/keyboard mix gave the band a very charged sexuality playing live that I never picked up on while listening to the album, but which, when combined with the monotonous tempos, left me just shy of an, ahem, expected climax (which usually never happens to me, I swear...). Still, the long build was ultimately quite satisfying, as throughout the opening set the room was filled with a wash of sound, fluid leadlines erupting into wah-wah’d sheets of noise, reminiscent of Spacemen 3 and Loop as much as, and often more than, the original 60’s psychedelics to which they are often compared (and even more to my liking as it were). The Black Angels added punch live drove me back to the record with greater appreciation for the songs and served as a great table-setter for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.

In the name of full disclosure, I’m a huge BRMC fan. Sunday was the sixth time I’ve seen them live, and it was one of the best performances I’ve ever seen them give.

First, a little background... I’ve always been a “first album” kind of guy, not just for BRMC, but for most bands. I generally find that a band’s first album, over the long haul, turns out to be my favorite. And really, why shouldn’t it be a band’s best work? They’ve had their whole lives to write a dozen songs, then for each subsequent album they get a year or two to come up with 12 more. The odds favor stronger material appearing on the first one. There are, of course, plenty of exceptions to this, but generally that’s the way it follows.

BRMC came out strong on their self-titled first, which is certainly one of my top five favorite albums so far this century. They managed to combine shoegaze, post-punk, and garage rock (arguably my three favorite genres) into a potent stew of Rock And Freakin’ Roll. They then lapsed into the Sophomore Slump by most accounts with Take Them On, On Your Own. I find this to be an underrated work, but it does in many ways feel like a slightly lesser version of the first album. This was followed by the Difficult Third Album, Howl, which came on the heels of falling out of favor with their label and internal problems which resulted in the removal (though he was eventually reinstated) of drummer Nick Jago and left many fans to restate the question BRMC so prominently and fervently asked aloud on their first album… “Whatever Happened to My Rock and Roll?” On Howl they abandoned their louder stylings for a more blues and Americana based acoustic sound. The songs were still good, and generally well received critically, but left some fans feeling a bit confused and disappointed, myself included.

History lesson over, we arrive at the present release, Baby 81, which feels like a real culmination of all that has come before. It’s a great step forward; the rock of the first two albums returning, but with the added depth and dimension of quieter, more moody works in line with Howl. It has a couple of jump-out-at-you tracks, but becomes more and more rewarding in its entirety on repeat listenings. Baby 81 introduces some brand new tricks to the mix as well, and I was looking forward to seeing how it would all come together in a live setting. The answer, in a word, wonderfully.

Baby 81 opener “Took Out a Loan” opens the set with much more energy and life than the song manages to find in its recorded form. The second song of the show, and the second on the new album, “Berlin” follows, leading me to worry (however briefly) that we might get a straight reading of the album. In the case of “Berlin” that would be more than welcome. It’s one of the aformentioned jump-out-at-you tracks on the album (it just has to be the next single) with it’s catchy “suicide’s easy/what happened to the revolution” chorus, and it has even more punch onstage. Then shifting gears into the past, first album classic “Spread Your Love” bounces forth, having lost none of the power it wielded the first time I heard it, with it’s pronounced glam stomp. It’s quite probably my favorite BRMC track.

Watching closely, one starts to get a feel for the dynamic between the co-fronts Peter Hayes and Robert Levon Been fairly quickly at a BRMC show, with Peter all menacing cool; his dead-eyed stare gives the appearance that he’d be just as happy eating your first-born male child as playing a rock and roll show (strange, since he seems so pleasant and personable in offstage conversation… gee, I hope I didn’t just ruin some of his dark mystique). Robert, on the other hand, is all edgy energy, unable to stay very long in one spot, an absolute joy to watch, while behind the kit Nick remarkably holds it all together. Whatever differences off stage they have/do suffer through, onstage they are stop-on-a-dime tight.

Rolling on, “Lien on Your Dreams” follows, with the only representative from Take Them On, the “Whatever Happened to My Rock and Roll” of that album “Six Barrel Shotgun,” after it. The first single from Baby 81, “Weapon of Choice,” roars out and proves itself a worthy choice to re-announce the bands presence to the world as it crackles with even more energy than expected, and brings the understated politicality of the band a little closer to the front with it’s call that “I won’t waste my love on a nation.” Back to the first album with, back-to-back, “Whatever Happened…” and the intensely moody “Red Eyes and Tears.” Their maturity and expanded repertoire starts to show as Robert slides over to play piano on the very Supertramp-only-more-rocking sounding “Window” (if only it was Fender Rhodes). Continuing on those lines Robert stays put and Peter picks up a trombone(!?!) for “Promise” from Howl. “Not What You Wanted” has a very uplifting feeling and makes me think of John Hughes movie soundtracks for some strange reason. The way those three songs in particular seamlessly mix into their more “typical” songs stand as a clear example of how BRMC has managed to show artistic growth, diversifying their sound, without sacrificing any of their own strengths or changing their voice.

It’s back to basics then, though, as “666 Conducer” comes off like a “Red Eyes…” redux live (though, strangely, not so much on the record), and is followed by the self-titled LP’s lead track “Love Burns,” which still, as with “Spread Your Love,” holds a lot of power even after the intervening years. The set closes with Peter trading his guitar for Robert’s bass and Robert taking over lead duties on “Need Some Air” and “American X.”

I’ve always been impressed with the way that even as Peter and Robert switch off guitar and bass duty, the songs stay very cohesive, their playing styles on each instrument distinct but very in tune with one another. Generally I notice when bands pull the old switcheroo, different personalities palpably manifest themselves in the instrumental performance, but I never find that the case with BRMC. That being said, “Need Some Air” almost sounds like BRMC playing mid-era Ministry with it’s live aggression, and pounds at the audience like few before it in the BRMC catalog, the guitars, which are somewhat restrained on Baby 81, tearing into the crowd with real ferocity. As set closers go, “American X” seems born for the task, epic in scale with a siren-like lead line calling the audience to arms for the big finale. Though the actual finale was yet to come.

Fifteen songs is a damn long set, but, as is the proper rock and roll tradition, it’s not really a show without an encore. After a brief exit (at least they didn’t keep us waiting… I hate it when bands do that), Peter rejoins the fray armed with his acoustic and a harmonica for a couple from Howl, “Faultline” and album standout “Devil’s Waitin’,” both songs holding the rapturous attention of the still-very-full room (which in and of itself was amazing to me... I’ve been watching fools walkout on encores in this town for years). Robert steps back into the spotlight for what he says is a non-LP track called “Mercy,” wondering aloud why it never made the record (it was on the Howl Sessions EP though if you want to hunt it down… I’m not sure if that was an official release or not). It’s not a bad tune, but I’ll tell you why, Robert, it didn’t make the cut: it runs on and on and doesn’t seem to have any particular destination, which I was beginning to fear was where this show was heading; in spite of how much I was enjoying the performance, it was becoming a marathon. Some well-earned rewards were right around the corner, though, after the Dylan-esque “Complicated Situation” from Howl (noticing a trend here?). “Ain’t No Easy Way,” the single and most accessible (not too mention my favorite) song from Howl follows, enhanced by Robert strolling behind the kick drum as he plays guitar for some added percussion (by now Nick has clearly gone missing, commented on by Peter, and apparently/allegedly due to some sort of reaction to something he ate). That treat is followed by another, a Bob Dylan cover, “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll.” I love hearing other artists do Dylan songs, because I believe, virtually without question, he was the greatest American (or possibly greatest period) songwriter of the last 50 years, but I CANNOT deal with his vocals. And as covers go, this one hits the tone spot on, a real highlight of the set. Twenty-two songs in and the set finally closes with Howl’s lead track “Shuffle Your Feet,” which is all I can do as I leave exhausted, but ultimately more than satisfied. Everyone gets their money’s worth out of this one.

“Who Knows If I’ll See You Again?” Bet on it, guys… I’ll be back next time your in town. It’s great to see artists you admire step up their game. And now I can’t wait for the next album, either.

1 “Took Out a Loan”

2 “Berlin”

3 “Spread Your Love”

4 “Lien on Your Dreams”

5 “Six Barrel Shotgun”

6 “Weapon of Choice”

7 “Whatever Happened to my Rock and Roll”

8 “Red Eyes and Tears”

9 “Window”?

10 “Promise”

11 “Not What You Wanted”

12 “666 Conducer”

13 “Love Burns”

14 “Need Some Air”

15 “American X”?

16 “Faultline”

17 “Devils Waitin”

18 “Mercy.”

19 “Complicated Situation”

20 “Ain’t No Easy Way” Robert behind the kick

21 “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll”

22 “Shuffle Your Feet”

Twenty-two songs in and the set finally closes with Howl’s lead track “Shuffle Your Feet,” which is all I can do as I leave exhausted, but ultimately more than satisfied. Everyone gets their money’s worth out of this one.

Guess who's replacing the Fratellis...?

imaginary dana — Sun, 06 May 2007 23:29:25 +0000

Looks like they found themselves a great replacement: Austin's the Black Angels!

Passover

Matt Johnson — Tue, 04 Apr 2006 07:00:00 +0000

8.5

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000EPF76S/wwwthreeimagi-20

blackangels06apr.jpg

I'll spare you the cliché references and "recommended-if-you-like" consumer guide bullshit with this review. There's a whole lot of baggage that The Black Angels have brought on board in terms of musical influences almost to the point of teetering on the dreaded "tribute band" status. I could list all the obvious musical references here, but I'll leave that for other reviewers that lay claim to more respectable record collections than mine. But just so we're clear, I need to make sure all the cards are on the table with the following:

The Black Angels musical inspirations are fairly obvious
"Art Rock" bands are almost always overrated.
Psychedelia in today's rock is passé.
The 70s were not the good old days.
It's a shame that Timothy Leary is seen as a cultural sage.

To be honest, I'm not entirely clear why I like this CD so much given my abovementioned constipated music listening peculiarities and irritable social observations. Maybe it's because I know that competently recreating a decades past genre is relatively simple if you get a couple competent musicians together. But going beyond the obvious surface level similarities and masterfully channeling the spirit of a music form by actually communicating the emotion that the style was meant to evoke in the first place; that's damn hard to come by these days and I truly believe The Black Angels pull it off.

I think it was Lester Bangs who wrote in his short essay "A Reasonable Guide to Horrible Noise" that back when Patti Smith was writing Creem reviews in the 70s, she claimed to have liked disco and punk precisely because it sounded oppressive. Bangs was writing about "skronk" — i.e. early Stooges, the first PIL record, Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music et al — and though the subject of this review is much different stylistically than what Bangs was referring to, Passovers' oppressive, heavy sentiment is similar in its dense, caustic fog of droning, ohm inducing, stoned-out-of-your-gourd psychedelic-ish — dare I say it — masterpiece.

I'm generally not particularly clued into specific lyrics when I listen to music most of the time. I take in the mood of a record as a whole before anything else. But I'd say that there's actually something to the album title Passover. You know that happy Sunday school story about the angel of death coming to visit the Israelites in the book of Exodus? You know.unless you smeared freshly slaughtered lambs blood over your doorpost your first born child was a goner (?) Yup, that was The Passover and in the Christian tradition, it's Jesus himself that embodies the symbolism of the cleansing, sacrificial blood that saves the devout from the wrath to come. This collection of songs isn't trying to peddle any spiritual enlightenment but the dark night of the soul is certainly lurking in the shadows waiting to getcha. This isn't the gospel of Billy Graham, but it could most certainly be Kierkegaard's crisis.

As far as I can tell, there aren't any highbrow Fathers of Existentialism referenced here (I can't tell for sure, as the bastards don't include lyrics in the packaging) but there's a kind of-I dunno-gentlemanly way that the music is presented. As in: most rock is generally a loud temper tantrum right? The Black Angels, however, have the decency to take the time to ingest The Crisis, have a nice stiff drink to steady the nerves and collect a semblance of ambivalence to tell it to you straight. (Listening to Girls Against Boys' Cruise Yourself gives me the same-ish feeling even though GVSB is employing a little tongue in cheek in their delivery.) How the hell else do you explain the lyrical goldmine moments in "Sniper at the Gates of Heaven" when the vocalist quite earnestly asks, "Where do you go when heaven calls you?" that is later followed up in the following verse with, "What is it like when hell surrounds you?" As if he's in the throes of a struggle between choosing which one is better! Brilliant.

Passover is a strong album throughout, but the best moments occur when the band really lays into a heavy drone like in songs "Young Men Dead," "The Sniper at the Gates of Heaven," and "The Prodigal Sun." The more jangly guitar songs like "Bloodhounds on My Trail" and "Call to Arms" are the tracks that reach back into musical nostalgia and fall a little short for my tastes. But all in all, this is a damn fine collection of tunes and will likely become a personal classic.

This collection of songs isn't trying to peddle any spiritual enlightenment but the dark night of the soul is certainly lurking in the shadows waiting to getcha.

SXSW 2006 Rundown

three imaginary girls — Sun, 19 Mar 2006 08:00:00 +0000

15 Mar 2006

sxsw06mar1.jpg

South by Southwest, where have you been all my life? If I believed in an afterlife, this is what my idea of heaven would be: endless days and nights with no greater concerns than caffeine, alcohol, and indie rock. Except there would be fewer lines, and more cabs.

I can't believe a world where so many (really attractive and nice) people care about new and interesting music exists. What an amazing experience. I'm booking my hotel room and pass as soon as they announce the 2007 dates. Who's with me??

Please note that the photos were taken by us; we can't rule out intoxication, but we also can't rule out that we're just that unskilled with a camera. Oh! Except for the gorgeous Long Winters photo, provided by the amazing Gregory Perez.

Without further ado, read our SXSW 2006:

Top 10 of the Pops!

Honorable Mentions

Totally Overrated

Thank Yous

Top 10 of the Pops! (in alpha order):

Art Brut
I can't stress this enough. If Art Brut comes to your town, go! Whether you are familiar with them because of their placement on KEXP's playlist or you've yet to be introduced, you will love them within one song of their live performance. The cockney-heavy vocals a la The Streets and the hooky guitar jabs spotlight the clever lyrics that are ideal for constant quoting among your group of friends. Move over, quips like "You're so money you don't even know it" — we've now got things like, "This IS my singing voice" and "I've seen her naked... twice!" Thanks Art Brut. "Popular culture, no longer applies to me."

Band of Horses
Band of Horses featured slide guitars, emotive vocals, and nothing less than I expected from two former members of one of my favorite Seattle bands of all time, Carissa's Wierd. While CW expressed life's sadness to the level of morose, Band of Horses were more in the "tear in my beer" cathartic vein of indie-melancholy, and I'm sure will (or have) drawn comparisons to other twangier indie-rock luminaries like My Morning Jacket and Wilco. The fact that they were playing in a field outside Poke-e-Joe's BBQ only added to the Texas of it all.

Billy Bragg
I think I experienced the luckiest day of my life in Austin. How else could I have found myself at a picnic (with free booze and tacos), surrounded by an audience of about 50 people watching Billy Bragg as he played his entire first album in order? Crazy! As you'd expect, the man was armed with timeless songs and sharp banter that could inspire action from even the most humdrum of souls. In between songs he offered words of solace to our blue-state comforted selves. He encouraged us as he talked about how he felt pride when he saw how the outrage and compassionate minority is gaining strength in our nation. He jumpstarted my belief that music can bind people, give weight to ideas and, music industry be damned, fuel change. Take that Toby Keith.

Figurines
Brit bands are a dime a dozen. Bring on the Danes! I had the pleasure of seeing Danish indie-rock sensations Figurines at the Crocodile in Seattle just days before SXSW. Here's my theory on Figurines: you need to hear them three times. The first couple of listens, you think, "Wow, nice songs!" By the third listen, you realize that not only will Skeletons undoubtedly rank in your top 10 of the year, but that you also plan to name your as-yet unconceived children "Christian" — as half the band members are called Christian — even though you are a devout agnostic. Spend some quality time with the record, and you're hooked — or as the fellas sing, "It takes time to get it together for a long time." Figurines have it all: spot on guitar work, inspiring lyrics, rugged hooks, distinctive and appealing vocals... plus swagger, pout, sweet dispositions, and hipster good looks. Think Northwest edge meets Euro-charisma. Now imagine standing right up front, watching these likely superstars rock you on a true Texas dive bar floor. It's surely a 'tell-the-grandkids-about-it' sort of SXSW memory...

Galactic Heroes
I've loved the Galactic Heroes since the first time I heard the sweet jangle of "Coffee And Pastries" from their album Every Sidewalk. Their repertoire embodies all that is sweet and nice and queen bee. Their songs hopscotch through tales of love, friendship, baby blue Volvos, and gleeful happenstances without turning trite or phony. But, given that the two leading members live in different cities, seeing them perform these tales of joy together in lovey Seattle has felt like a pipe dream.

Thank goodness for a massive 1000+ band festival for bringing us together. Live, they broke new GH ground... mainly due to a sudden, unfortunate event that forced their drummer to miss the show. That, on top of the fact that the guys hadn't been able to practice together in quite a while, made for a certain air of... uncertainty. So what did they do? They rocked the house! They gave homemade shakers (made from plastic Easter eggs filled with rice) to the 25 audience members in the front so that we could provide a backing beat to the songs. Then, halfway through the set, Mike (who had just started learning the drums) took to the set and simultaneously sang and drummed. As you would expect, the songs were scaled down but the end result was a lo-fi Lucksmiths-esque set that left the audience grinning from ear to ear.

The Gossip
Playing at 1am on a stage in a parking lot, I was able to fully appreciate the force that *is* Gossip front-diva Beth Ditto. Against the evening chill after a hot Texas day, she channeled that old soul of hers to exorcise the traditions and skeletons of the South. This, with intense, archaic, bare bones rock foundation laid by her two fellow Gossip-ers (Brace Paine and Hannah Blilie), made for a set of hymns for hipsters. As Beth chimed lines like "I don't want the world, I just want what I deserve." I was reminded of all that is great about independent music. Whereas the masses accept songs from The Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs as the end all of soul inspired, angular anthems, The Gossip are the real thing. Glory glory hallelujah!

The Long Winters
Long Winters' frontman John Roderick has the rare ability to win over the drunkest/surliest of audiences with the power of just one sideways pleasantry. In between eloquently espousing about the his excitement of sharing the bill with Smoosh and the underlying music industry presence at the festival, Roderick made the crowd sway to the LW songs old and new. Poles on each end of the spectrum were hit as we enjoyed old favorites ("Stupid," "Unsalted Butter"), newbies ("the commander thinks aloud" from the recent Ultimatum EP), and we got a sneak listen to songs from their upcoming release (to be released in July?). I was so relieved to not only hear the new songs, but find out that they are glorious! Countdown to the new Long Winters album begins... NOW!

The Magic Numbers
As my friend Barbara said to me during the show, the world can't be too bad a place when a band as amazing as The Magic Numbers headlines a major label showcase (Capitol Records) at SXSW. As talented as they are unlikely, this band of two sets of siblings charmed the audience with their extraordinary song writing, their incredible vocal harmonies, and more importantly, with their dazzling sense of joy expressed through music. They've been compared to the psychedelic Flaming Lips as well as the folksy 60's of the Mamas and the Papas; both comparisons are apt. More joyous than an afternoon spent with good friends and free Jack Daniels!

Margot and the Nuclear So-And-Sos/The Rakes
OK, I cheated to sneak an extra band into the Top 10 list. But you have to hear about them both, and both have new US releases on V2-affliated labels, so I thought it only fair to munge them. Margo and the Nuclear So-and-Sos — I agree, that name is tedious at best — were a complete surprise, a dense wall of delicious sounds emanating from no less than eight people onstage: two percussionists, trumpet, cello, two vocalists, and all the rock standards. Their debut release drops end of March, and the hype machine has aleady whirled into motion, so expect to know their name soon (even if you can't quite remember all of it). As for The Rakes, I saw them headline two showcases, at the UK show case at Flamingo and the V2 showcase at the Blind Pig. Equal parts updated Blur-pop and JCrew's autumn pullover collection, these savvy Brit rockers got the floor moving with their exuberant performances, and frontman Alan Donohoe has the best angular, nerdy dance moves since Molly Ringwald in The Breakfast Club

Okkervil River
Will Sheff just might be the most atypically sexy performer alive. As frontman for Okkervil River, he brought to each song so much passion and angst and emotion, rolling over expansive melodies and closed-eye mic grinds, it nearly felt like each member of the crowd had been intimate with him by the end of the {screaming, sweaty, yet all-too-short} set. Musically, the band spins a unique blend of folk earnestness and indie-rock pathos with poignant lyrics, and Sheff's inimitable gravelly voice, which can murmur or howl with equal ferocity. This just might be what igLiz sees when she watches Conor Oberst. I barely made it into this show at the end of the final night (thank you, Heather Hydra!), but it easier was one of the most memorable and electrifying shows of the weekend.

Honorable Mentions (in alpha order):

The Black Angels {Jim Morrison meets Perry Farrell, if you can believe that.}

Camera Obscura {Lovely and precious as I ever imagined.}

Conner {Great new signee to local label Sonic Boom Recordings}

The Cops {Why is it so fun to see hometown bands play in Texas? I dunno, but it is!}

Morningwood {Audicious and crazy and maybe all the free Jack Daniels didn't hurt either},

The Pale Pacific {If I didn't already know of the splendor that is the Pale Pacific, this would have been *that* sxsw showcase... wandering into an under-attended showcase midday, not knowing what to expect... and being blown away. Knowing the Pale Pacific in no way dimished my joy at their too-short-but-oh-so-sweet set.}

The Pretenders {yes, OMG *The* Pretenders!!}

Schoolyard Heroes {If I'd caught more than just the last song, I'm sure they'd have made the top 10}

Smoosh {I can't believe how much more assured and talented they have become. And Asy announced that their next release in June would be on Barsuk Records (!!). The label declined comment, but smiled broadly when asked.}

Something for Rockets {Especially when USE's Noah jumped onstage like a sprite and joyously bounced alongside them}

Stars of Track and Field {Dreamy and swirly despite technical issues}

Sukpatch {They've mastered the synth driven, guitar pedaled, lo-fi psychedelic vocals line up in the vein of bands that they predate (specifically Grandaddy and The Postal Service). The intimate show was like a mid-evening siesta. The swirling keyboards with soothing guitar waves and whispery vocals rejuvenated the saucy crowd.}

Tullycraft {The Tullycraft-ers certainly made Seattle proud as they debuted four new songs to knock the knee high socks off pony-tailed girls across the globe. With their signature guitar hooky, harmonizing vocals and nimble lyrics, the set spanned the spectrum from cute to crack-up. They made the audience feel like they were having the Spring Break that popfest dreams are made of as the band members joked about their rockstar moves and rewarded the best dancing audience members with t-shirts. Surely, their set was the sprinkles on the cupcake of my SXSW experience. Thanks to Dan Machold for the amazing photos.}

Two Gallants {Oh how I love the Two Gallants' way of mixing Bright Eyes and the White Stripes into an authentic / original / religious experience.}

Totally Overrated (in alpha order):

The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster {blew their wad on the first song}, Battle {dull, uninspiring}, Sound Team {so forgettable I couldn't even remember their name}, Two Gallants {I know I'm gonna catch shit for that one, but perhaps my expectations were too high?}.

Other than the bands I had to miss because of double booking, I don't have any regrets. With 1,000+ bands to choose from and limited time, if I suspected something wasn't going to knock me off my feet, I headed next door. There was always something stellar 10 feet away, even if it was just a bathroom with no line.

Thank Yous:

SXSW 2006 would not have been the same without love, support, and cocktails from the following amazing people: BreEllen and April {you RULE, ladies!!!}, Marc at 1 Percent Promotions, Gabe, Cameron, Justin, and Greg {thank you, Cingular!}, Lindsey at V2 {those wristbands ruled!}, Chris the cab driver, the free JANE photo booth, mimosas as the Driskill, DJ Phil and DJ Mike, Heather Hydra, Noah and the USE crew, Derby, Barbara, Scott P. {your list was life-saving, and your company, even better!}, Jason {happy birthday!} and Nabil, the Slender Means van ride, Tes, Jackie, Sarah Q., Paul Tao and the Aversion fellas {and the terrible Las Maritas service}, and the taco stand behind Emos {Seattle totally needs one of those!!}. Woot! Woot!!!

Thanks to everyone for the unbelievably good time. I'm still detoxing from the fun! Too much fun gives you a swollen tongue and a head cold, right?

Read about some of their fave performances from SXSW 2006, including Okkervil River, Art Brut, The Rakes, Billy Bragg, the Long Winters, Galactic Heroes, Figurines, The Gossip, the Magic Numbers, and more. Viva le Austin!

The Black Angels EP

Imaginary NYC Kelly D — Fri, 09 Dec 2005 08:00:00 +0000

7.5

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000BHAO62/wwwthreeimagi-20

blackangels05dec.jpg

The world is full of modern conveniences and technological marvels that purport to improve our quality of life. Although it’s hard to imagine public transportation without an iPod, or procrastination without the Internet, wouldn't it be nice to occasionally escape to an earlier era — free of buzzing Blackberries and spam? Wouldn’t it be nice to travel through times of sonic exploration and innovation — free of Swedish songwriting factories?

Imagine if you could venture back to early-1960's London and explore British blues. Jump to late-1960's New York City and catch The Velvet Underground in the Village. Zoom to San Francisco's summer of 1969 and eat apples at the Fillmore while getting lost in psychedelic rock. Make a pit stop in the 1980's to pick up pop sensibilities from The Jesus and Mary Chain. Swing through the early 1990's to absorb sinister moodiness before gliding back to the present day, taking a sample of angst-riddled rock along the way. Ah, wouldn’t it be nice?

Until the whiz kids in Bangalore or Shanghai develop a time capsule, Hallelujah for Texas and its progenies. The Black Angels have ascended from the land of W to grace us with a trip through fuzzy blues, psychedelic somersaults, and modern discontent.

"Black Grease" is first-class transport to distorted guitars and full-bodied blues, with vocals that are simultaneously playful and chilling. "Winter '68" reflects the band's reverence for Lou Reed and company, as does the band’s name (taken from The Velvet Underground’s "The Black Angels Death Song"). "Manipulation" incorporates Eastern influences to deliver a hypnotic melody, complemented by vocals that shift from somber verses to a chorus reminiscent of 1980's U2.

Tambourines punctuate Maas' impassioned vocals in "The First Vietnamese War", with Bailey's drum beats providing the final explosive exclamation point. Undulating guitars set the backdrop for a rebuke against the Bush administration for its hypocritical and reckless attitude towards military engagement and the subsequent fatalities. "60,000 men died while you all hid. You came into our home, and you took our kids. And you ask for more now for this new war. And you ask for more now."

The Black Angels' varied musical tastes reflect the diverse backgrounds of the band members. Bassist Ryan was born on a cult compound, guitarist Bland is a preacher's son, organ and drone player Raines grew up in a mortuary, and Bailey and Maas see dead people. Whether it's black magic or divine inspiration that blesses The Black Angels, this group melds classic influences, innovation and talent into mighty fine rock. I propose sending the Bush boy back to the ranch and letting this Lone Star State cabal conquer the world.

"Black Grease" is first-class transport to distorted guitars and full-bodied blues, with vocals that are simultaneously playful and chilling.