Three Imaginary Girls - Rogue Wave

Starbucks releases Valentine's Day comp details (super secret?)

imaginary victoria — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 23:08:24 +0000

Sweet songs from some of our fave artists!

Happy birthday, Sub Pop! Fave 20 releases of all time

imaginary stella — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 18:00:31 +0000

Here, in tribute to the Seattle label's 20 years of not going out of business, are my favorite 20 releases from Sub Pop from the past two decades. I encourage you to check out their catalog and provide yours, too.

DCFC in Oregon

heather hydra — Sat, 05 Jul 2008 05:42:46 +0000

26 Jun 2008

DCFC08jul.jpg

There is no other band I'd travel to see.

Scratch that. There are few bands I would travel out of state to see. I haven't seen Death Cab play since 2006, when they rocked a sold-out show at the Key Arena. That was my first real taste of their celebrity, and of the new people joining me in the audience to watch this band. It was downright eerie and incredibly surreal to hear 7,000 (or does the Key hold more?) people singing along with Ben Gibbard to "I Will Follow You Into The Dark."

It may have creeped me out a bit, but I was so damn proud of those dudes. So I tried not to be too judgmental of the new kids in the crowd, with their pushing and talking on cellphones during songs, and have a good time. The more the merrier, and all that.

Anyway. I found out last Monday that they were performing at Edgefield Amphitheatre. (or amphitheater, if you're not pretentious.) In a rush of excitement, I bought my train tix and finagled a show ticket. When I arrived at the show, I saw not one, not two, but at least three bar tents set up. The Edgefield is kind of like an alcoholic's wonderland: bars around every corner. By the time I got there, most of the audience was already in attendance, lounging on blankets and enjoying the bright sunshine. Did I mention the people walking through the crowd selling beer? There were people walking around selling beer. Not water, on this 80 degree plus day, but BEER. A small group of teens were already pressed eagerly against the guardrail. I settled down a few feet behind them with the new Sedaris and waited.

McMenamins runs a tight ship, and Rogue Wave went on at precisely 6.30. I've only seen Rogue Wave once or twice, and every time, they've charmed the pants right off the audience. Established fans become dancing dervishes yelling song lyrics, and others become wild with excitement, others indie-rock dancing/nodding, and all smiling. Rogue Wave makes me ridiculously happy. I am not the most familiar with their catalog, so forgive me for not knowing the setlist. But they were good, and people were yelling "ENCORE" when they announced their last song, and were still yelling that as the boys were leaving the stage.

Death Cab came on around 8pm, and holy crap. DCFC have reached this point in their career performance-wise, where EVERY show is good. They are now a sleek, well-oiled machine, and it is amazing to see. I could do with a little less fog machines. The audience went absolutely ape - and the boys launched into "Bixby Canyon Bridge." After that, the order of the set-list gets a little foggy, mostly due to the fact I was freaking my shit out and singing loudly (OH so loudly, sorry people in front of me!) but I do remember most, if not all the songs played. They were:

Bixby Canyon Bridge
I Will Possess Your Heart
Photobooth
Company Calls
Company Calls Epilogue
I Will Follow You Into the Dark
Soul Meets Body
Movie Script Ending
We Laugh Indoors
Fake Frowns (Airplanes! WOOO!)
Long Division <3
No Sunlight
Tiny Vessels
Cath...
Marching Bands of Manhattan
Crooked Teeth
New Year
Sound of Settling
Why You'd Want to Live Here
Title & Registration

It was a splendid mix of brand new songs and old favorites. The only thing that slightly marred my experience was some of the fans near the front, but hey - I'm not the Audience Police - so I just tried to go with the flow. The three drunk girls (quite literally) screeching the lyrics of "I Will Follow You Into The Dark" (dedicated to tourmates Rogue Wave) and mooning over Chris Walla was more hilarious than anything else. However, if it is the second to last song of the encore, and you are a giant bro-dude who pushes smaller ladies out of the way to be in the front? Piss off. Not cool. Other than those couple instances, I had a great time. Rogue Wave came out during "Transatlanticism" to sing the last bits of the song, which edged me over from incredibly happy to flailing and ecstatic. You know, the more I think about it, that show was great. Death Cab were tight, Rogue Wave were charming, and besides a few bad apples, the audience was excited to be there and were fun to rock out with.

Oh! One last thing. During "Title & Registration" Gibbs wrapped the mic cord around his arm and sang a chunk of the song on top of some speakers. The audience flipped out. It was rad.

DCFC have reached this point in their career performance-wise, where EVERY show is good. They are now a sleek, well-oiled machine, and it is amazing to see.

So far pretty OK: New Rogue Wave track

imaginary stella — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 15:39:04 +0000

The first track off Rogue Wave's forthcoming album is available to preview at Spin Mag's site.

Rogue Wave in Bed With Jack Johnson?

imaginary stella — Thu, 19 Jul 2007 22:34:17 +0000

Bay Area quartet Rogue Wave are set to release their next album, Asleep At Heaven’s Gate, on Sept 18. But they’ve left Sub Pop’s roster, instead releasing this third endeavor on Brushfire Records—which is owned by Jack Johnson, he of posi-vibe, frat-rock fame. I don’t flat-out hate Johnson’s music, but I am surprised at this direction from Zach Rogue and company. What might it mean for their sound?

(Hat tip to Ear Candy--I empathize with your dilemma!)

In other RW news, they’ve found a new bass player. Welcome Patrick Abernethy (formerly of Beulah) to the ranks!

Zach Rogue of Rogue Wave

imaginary stella — Sun, 19 Feb 2006 08:00:00 +0000

{Imaginary writer Stella recently had to opportunity pick the brain of Rogue Wave's frontman and songwriter Zach Rogue. What follows is a prime example of what happens when you send a musician questions via email and they answer on their "downtime." Sarcasm, or all truth? Insightful, or completely goofy? You decide for yourself, but we're pretty sure you'll giggle.}

Our Q&A's usually take place in coffee shops and are called "Coffee With a Rockstar." What's your drink of choice?
Hot cup of coffee, black. Maybe throw a shot in there if I'm moving slow from a night of too much reveling.

I understand that you wrote the new material as a band, as opposed to the process for Out of the Shadow, which was pretty much Zach's material. How did the group come together in the first place, and what was it like working more collaboratively this time around?
The band didn't write the material on this album, I did that. But we did share ideas with respect to arrangements and counterpoint melodic structures, that sort of thing. And clothing coordination. We have started to get some of the same clothes, so it takes some communication to figure who will wear which shoes on which day. It can be maddening at times. Oh, the pain.

Speaking of the band, how did you come up with the name Rogue Wave?
A rogue wave is a scientific mystery of sorts. It is a devastating event that can wreak havoc on ships, swallowing them up. To me, it's come to be a metaphor for what is unknown, what can never be known.

Rogue Wave strikes a balance between lulling, gentle tunes and dark, uncomfortable sounds. But somehow that dissonant stuff sounds pretty too. How do you do it? And where does this tension/release come from?
I found it in a cereal box, actually. Back in the late 80's when Cookie Crisp came out, they were running this promo campaign where if you bought 10 boxes of Cookie Crisp, you send in the cutouts from the back of the box, and they send you a rebate for a tension-release mood watch. It's cool because it glowed in the dark. A lot of kids used to wear those Swatch watches, but I liked my tension-release watch better.

Kind of a cheeky one here. Anyhow, what's the fascination with birds? ("Falcon Settles Me," "Descended like Vultures," "Bird on a Wire")
I like cheeky. Not from Brits so much, but with Americans, cheeky is pretty all right... I don't know. I hadn't thought about it until you asked.

Oh yeah, I was raised by birds!

I once heard your band described as the perfect Oakland band. What do you think classifies you as such?
Well, for one thing, I am a huge A's fan. Secondly, I am a third generation-born Oaklandian. Third, I have no idea what a perfect Oakland band means.

I read that many of the songs on Descended Like Vultures were inspired by touring — portraits of characters on the road and such. What is it like for you to be on the road so often? Do you miss home or enjoy the different-city-every-night factor?
There are things I like about seeing new places. I love Chicago and New York. I love driving through Iowa (seriously, it is beautiful). I like playing the whoever-guesses-the-next-song-on-the-iPod-gets-a-free-beer game, and I love meeting people who play in all these different bands. I love seeing some familiar faces when we come to a town we've been to before. I love smuggling iguanas across state lines. I love remaking that scene in "Teen Wolf" when Michael J. Fox's character surfs on top of the van. I love painting my nails with black Sharpie pen — that's always a sign that I've started to lose it.

Who's in your iPod right now? And/or who would make for your ideal touring partners?
There are like 9,000 songs in my iPod right now. My iPod's name is Dolly Podda. As Beck has described her, she is "whimsical, tragical beauty." Been listening to the new Animal Collective, Chad VanGaalen, Eugene Mirman, Broadcast, Stevie Wonder, Kool Keith, The Who, Chet Baker, Wormser from "Revenge of the Nerds", Biz Markie, Adam and the Ants, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Wipers, Toucan Sam, Lars von Trier, Winona Ryder, Emo Phillips, a complete set of dictionaries, The Magic Numbers, a lot of player-haters, a lot of hat makers, Makers Mark, Mark E. Smith, Yo La Tengo, and that record Will Oldham did with the guy from the Dirty Three.

Ok, last question: You're on "Jeopardy" — what are your ideal six trivia categories?
Oh, that's so easy. I'd totally ace that. 1) things that rhyme with "corn starch" 2) the rutles 3) edible bugs 4) a resounding "yes" 5) the capital of California 6) geometry.

cwarroguewave06feb.jpg

I love remaking that scene in "Teen Wolf" when Michael J. Fox's character surfs on top of the van. I love painting my nails with black Sharpie pen.

Rogue Wave, The Fruit Bats, and Chad VanGaalen

Mairead Case — Mon, 03 Oct 2005 07:00:00 +0000

11 Sep 2005

roguewave05oct2.jpg

From the outside, and to a girl used to checking the Lusty Lady marquee before entering the Showbox, Chicago's Empty Bottle doesn't look like much. There is a worn PBR sign above the door (it's been there from uncool to back again), and a Laundromat across the street. In my post-show haze, I look through the windows and imagine a little bear in green coveralls, looking for his lost button.

Inside, however, there is just enough seed and smoke, as studded with two pinball machines, a pool table, and a bartender with sideburns and a fish sweater. There is a cat with "mouse" tattooed inside his ear ("We didn't do it!" the doorman quickly claims), and several stair-chairs full of greasy-hair/big-glasses types. The floorboards are just creaky enough for calf-reverb, and once, a woman offered me vodka in the bathroom. All told, it's one of the best venues in Chi-town.

Dan and I arrive ten minutes early, stomachs full of falafel and the sort of pride that comes from being excited about all three bands on a bill because, well, you're just that hardcore (and Sub Pop's recent issues are just that good).

Chad VanGaalen, a former busker fresh from Alberta streetcorners, made the first cannonball splash. Infiniheart, his Sub Pop debut is full of loveliness and exquisite corpses, Rube Goldberg style. VanGaalen is tall in that Jacob's Ladder sort of way; if his voice was a shape, it would be boxes in light colors, floating around the room and bumping gently into lovers' heads. As accompanied by Broken Ankles bandmate Eric Hamelin, VanGaalen sings about your mom's hair and people plugged into machines, all in an edged moan and mostly in that smile-cracking way that becomes a man new to this game. When he finishes, we clap hard. So do three members of Rogue Wave, who have been watching from the back of the crowd. "We wouldn't be anywhere else," says bassist Evan Farrell. "He's damn good."

To be honest, I'd yet to be hooked on the Fruit Bats. They seemed too sweet, too soft: just another group of guys with valentine songs and librarian sweaters. And although Eric Johnson is copping Cuomo's glasses, I was sold from the minute he whipped out the xylophone ("I think it's a Fisher Price," said Dan), and on through the clever pacekeepers: "We've been around since 2000," he said. "That's before the Atkins Diet, and we still don't know what we're doing."

This, I believe, is a lie. It is a lie because of the banjo-kick on "Canyon Girl," the way everyone's face squeezes shut during the harmony on "Rainbow Sign," and especially the five minutes Johnson spent re-tuning the keyboard. Throughout the performance, which drew mostly from last year's Mouthfuls, a background laptop went through a somewhat random slideshow of circuitry, Japanese rock gardens, and a pill-shaped hopscotch. The mismatched drum kit — half red sparkle, half diamond-mirrored — Dan's mismatched socks. All in all, the Fruit Bat catalogue has a steady glow, and as much as I dig trapdoors and sudden cliffs in my music, sometimes, consistency is more than enough. You can't exactly curl up to Comets on Fire.

After a randomly beautiful montage on the P.A. ("Barracuda," the Stones, Bowie live) and while the scruf-dude next to us sent "just wait until I get home" text messages to his girlfriend ("He seems like the type," laughed Dan), Rogue Wave took the stage. The mics made tattoo-shadows on their collarbones, "Golden" Graham LeBron was sporting a new cowboy-style 'stache, and Zach Rogue's wedding ring glittered in the orange gels. Farrell, who seems like the kind of guy you could count on in a hurricane, chewed his gum and bobbed his head in that smile-cracking way that becomes a man who will never, ever get tired of this game.

In a hot-shit moment nabbed from label-and-sometimes-bill-mates The Shins, LeBron and Pat Spurgeon swapped instruments. Here were the Paul-and-Art harmonies, the sunny songs and bruising lyrics, Rogue's peppermint-clear tenor, and (as far as I'm concerned) the sort of blind admiration that, to bastardize Emily Dickinson, makes you feel like your head top's gone and strange light is pouring in.

The band is tight and in love with its music and each other; to hear them is to change your mixtape standards forevermore. They played two encores; I clapped hard enough to bruise my wrist. Damn thumbrings.

The band is tight and in love with its music and each other; to hear them is to change your mixtape standards forevermore.

Descended Like Vultures

imaginary stella — Sat, 01 Oct 2005 07:00:00 +0000

7.5

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000BBOFKO/wwwthreeimagi-20

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It's been a mighty long time since I deferred to the almighty Dictionary Definition Tool to start a piece of prose. It's a trite trick I normally don't consider (my former j-school professors would have a heyday with the thought of it), but in the case of Rogue Wave, I've made an exception. The band and the phenomenon are sublimely aligned; the group's name an apt choice for its chartered course across the pop music sea. All this to say, let's share what their moniker means, in the etymological sense:

Rogue wave: a freak wave. Freak waves, also known as rogue waves or monster waves, are relatively large and spontaneous ocean surface waves which can sink even medium-large ships. Once thought to be only legendary, they are now known to be a natural (although relatively rare) ocean phenomenon. They are a likely source of the sudden inexplicable disappearance of many ocean-going vessels. (Courtesy www.wikipedia.org)

The band Rogue Wave, like its namesake, is a surprising force of nature built on tension and release, grit and glimmer, dark and light. Just as a freak wave eventually thrashes into serene quiet, so, too, is the sonic ebb and flow of Rogue Wave. They (the band) have come onto the scene with surprising strength and natural talent, comprised of a seemingly star-aligned batch of musically like-minded souls. This Oakland quartet have a knack for inputting unexpected, almost ugly sounds into gorgeously melodic song structures, resulting in a cacophonously pretty symphony. Dissonant chords and jarring rhythms play harmoniously alongside classical arpeggios and vocal choruses that belong in a Sunday sermon. It's a wonderful embodiment of tension, release and resolution.

Rogue Wave's first album, Out of the Shadow, was not so much a band's effort but instead Zach Rogue's solo project rounded out with a backing band. Listening to Out of the Shadow, it's not easy to detect that its contents are the handiwork of one gentleman — the band sounded unified, and in live shows they give nothing but their all as a unit.

With Descended Like Vultures, all four members of Rogue Wave created the songs together. The sophomore effort is more developed than its predecessor, but despite its bigger sounds, it's striking how much it retains the intimacy of the debut. The members of Rogue Wave — Zach Rogue, plus multi-instrumentalists Pat Spurgeon (focus: drums), Gram LeBron (guitar) and Evan Farrell (bass) — not only crafted this album, but they wrote an abundance of material in prep for its recording — three albums' worth, in fact. Considering that, the content of DLV should be the cream that rose to the top during the track selection for the record.

It mostly is. A few selections are a bit shaky, suffering from too much production, which ends up overshadowing the raw quirkiness of Rogue Wave. But the bulk of Vultures' material is a collection of free-flowing, poppy, melodic bliss.

"Publish My Love," in shoegazer glory, swells, swirls and soars into a mad crescendo of beauty, toppling right over itself into the intimate "Salesman On the Day Of the Parade." The masterful "Love's Lost Guarantee" melts my heart before it slides right into the jammy "10:1", the first — and most over-produced — single off Vultures. The lullaby of "California" closes with a Zeppelin-lifted, quiet guitar progression that serves as the perfect outro. In fact the spirit of Plant, Page and company wafts through Vultures, providing a subtle throwback vibe as did Out of the Shadow. Lyrically, Rogue continues to narrate heart-aching tales of humanity.

The finished product makes Descended Like Vultures the soundtrack I'd want accompanying me should I ever find myself descending into the inky blackness of Davy Jones' Locker for all eternity. It sounds morbid, but, good golly, Matey, imagine the thrill.

The band Rogue Wave, like its namesake, is a surprising force of nature built on tension and release, grit and glimmer, dark and light.

Out of the Shadow

imaginary stella — Fri, 09 Jul 2004 07:00:00 +0000

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B0002C4GWO/wwwthreeimagi-20

Roguewave.jpg

I kept trying to give Rogue Wave’s debut a listen on a recent vacation to SoCal and Vegas, and it seemed impossible. I was constantly distracted from the music, my focus not able to concentrate. Once it was in my stereo at home, on a finally cooled off day in Seattle {a climate very similar to San Francisco, from where Rogue Wave hails}, I finally realized why: in that serene setting, it worked. The music was too complex, requiring a deeper ear, than hot-weather places could handle. {Now, if you are reading this in Phoenix or L.A. or even Madrid, my apologies — you may still like this music as you're acclimated to the local climate and can multitask. My senses, on the other hand, were simply too overloaded with sipping water and shielding my eyes from the sun to let my ears free up and hear.}

The melodies on Out of The Shadow {an ironic title, given the above} are beautiful, the songs thick though gentle. To truly appreciate this band you must hole up with headphones — or at least situate yourself in a room where the music can be the sole focus. Then the complexity, the layers, the intricacy of the record presents itself.

"Out of the Shadow" spawned from a soul-searching trip of frontman Zach Rogue's to the Big Apple. In NYC he penned and recorded the material for the record, returning to SF to quit his existing band Desoto Reds and find new musical companions. He lined up Pat Spurgeon {drums/keys/samples/vox}, Sonya Westcott {bass/vox} and Gram LeBron {guitar/keys/vox}. The new quartet prepared Rogue’s material for release, and the original incarnation of Shadow was released in limited quantity on the band's own label, Responsive Recordings, last year. It has now been remastered and re-released by Sub Pop.

The album flows seamlessly through its 12 tracks, starting with a lilting rock tune set to a waltz beat {"Every Moment"}, transitioning into the slightly addictive melody line of "Nourishment Nation" {it's like Tetris — repetitive and satisfying} into the reflective country twang of "Postage Stamp World" and closing with the charming "Perfect." The record is a throwback to 1960s pop brought into the modern age. The mass behind the quiet subtlety is startling. Give a listen.

The record is a throwback to 1960s pop brought into the modern age. The mass behind the quiet subtlety is startling.