May 29th, 2012 12:11 pm
Porcelain Raft Will Be At Kung Fu Necktie On Thursday Night, Supported By Our Friends, The Homophones
Photo C/O Under The Rader mag.
It was a few months ago that Strange Weekend crossed our path and got itself thrown into the On The Record bunch. Mauro Remiddi is a curious fella. He’s Italian, but lives in New York now, and is a man of many talents. He composes, plays piano, sings, and slaps together one beautiful, intoxicating album. There are synths, there’s acoustic guitar, subtle percussion and eerie effects – none ruining the whole. Secretly Canadian put it out in January, his first as Porcelain Raft after brief efforts with bands called Sunny Day Sets Fire and Filthy Dukes. But on Thursday night, KFN will be a place of humble beauty and emotional thoughtfulness. This record has little swagger but it has pain and heart. In fact, the text R5 used (are those mostly just artist-produced bios, ya think?) to describe him makes him almost sound like, well, a pussy:
“With all this chat about Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen elsewhere today we thought we were going to OD on testosterone. So much manliness. Of course, there is another male rock’n'roll archetype, and that is the lost boy – Syd Barrett, Nick Drake, characters who were barely there, who made their music then drifted away. Their careers weren’t played out, as per Young and Springsteen, as titanic struggles against the forces of oppression, they weren’t grizzled survivors, they quietly wrote some songs, found it all too much, and left.
Porcelain Raft is more of a lost boy than a rock man. That word “rock” says it all – you wouldn’t necessarily cling to him in a crisis, unless it was an emotional one. Maybe that’s why he calls himself that; he might crack, but then again, he might just save your life. His voice is soft, listless, not a roar of defiance but a whisper of regret. He’s more in the tradition of the fey indie boy who emerged, at a guess, circa punk or just after, with Buzzcocks’ Pete Shelley as the Godfather of this whole new way for male performers to present themselves, Edwyn Collins as the Son, and Morrissey as the Holy Ghost. What those three projected wasn’t Bowie-esque glam camp but a sort of sexual indifference, a subversive disdain for all inclinations and orientations. With his placeless wispy lisp, Mauro Remiddi, an Italian living in London who used to be in a band called Sunny Day Sets Fire, sounds too weary and distracted, too enervated and dislocated, to think about anything as earthy as sex. It’s a wonder his keyboard gets played or his computer programmed. His focus appears to be trying to stay focused.”
Does he know this is out there for the world to consume?
Anyway, don’t be fooled by this. He’s man enough to put his extraordinary compositions on a record, and that’s pretty ballsy. He’ll be getting help in the form of The Sea Around Us and The Homophones. Hooray for The Homophones!
May 28th, 2012 1:42 pm
Beyonce Put On A 2.5-Hour Performance Of 20+ Songs In Five Different Outfits At Revel Last Night
Well, that was a way to start the summer. Atlantic Ctiy for the first time, Beyonce (the biggest pop/hip-hop/R&B diva in the game at the moment), Revel, a brand-spanking-new high-end resort and casino, and beautiful weather made for an experience that has left me hoarse from screaming. She put on the biggest and baddest show that I knew she had in her, and it didn’t hurt that there truly isn’t a bad seat in Revel’s Ovation Hall. And that stage! Towards the end of hour two, every time she left the stage for an outfit and set switch, it seemed like the end. But no, she came back after a fifth outfit change and performed the songs we’d been waiting for her to do: “Countdown” and “Single Ladies.” Nay, she annihilated them.
Bey gave birth to Blue Ivy Carter on January 7, 2012 – almost five and a half months ago. And she looked as fit as a fiddle in five figure-skate-looking body-hugging unitards. She also sang without taking a breath, danced real hard and lead a small army of dancers through what had to be 20 to 25 songs. This was not a night to be taking notes. This was a night for $10 tequila sunrises and screaming at the top of my lungs on command. There was a prerequisite screaming competition to see who was most-hyped in the audience (the left side, the ride side, or the middle). She asked for our help to sing “Irreplaceable” – CAN DO, BEY. And then when “Run The World (Girls)” started out, she asked the audience: “Do my fellas run this mothaaaa?” to which we had to reply “HELLLL NO!”
Expectations were built upon the winter-release of “Elements of 4,” the stellar Bey-directed performance DVD that chronicled her four-night set at the Roseland in NYC last fall (before the MTV belly-rubbing incident). In the first of two acts, she rips through Destiny’s Child and solo hits that came before 4, and then in the second act she performs every song from her most recent (and spectacular) album. To my chagrin, she only pulled out a couple D’s Child jams, most memorably “Jumpin’.” But she came out blazin’ to “End of Time,” “Get Me Bodied,” then “Love On Top.” She did every song from 4 except for (not surprisingly) “Start Over,” “Rather Die Young,” and (surprisingly) “Best Thing I Never Had.” She pulled out a few surprises, like the tear-jerking “Flaws and All,” the amazing-videoed “Why Don’t You Love Me” (which played in grand fashion behind her the whole time), and the no-singing-and-danced-only “Dance For You.” But the biggest delight? She sang, pretty flawlessly, the first few bars of “I Will Always Love You,” the Whitney version, and took it into “Halo.” My eyes welled up, not gonna front.
The stage was stunning. We knew magic was about to happen when a massive screen descended after opener Luke James (who looked amazing in a leather tank top – note: obtain leather tank top) had left the stage. We’re talking what had to be a 30-40-foot tall and 50-foot wide swath of projection screen. THEN, the whole stage could be internally lit, and six big boxes sat on each side of the main performance space with band members and backup singers perched on top of the descending-in-size and LED-lit light boxes. This created a vortex of light and visuals effects, meaning, from the lip of the stage to the top of the projection screen could be all one pattern or set of moving images. So EVERYTHING could be green or, for “Countdown,” all the colors used in the video could be recreated in bright technicolor. For “Party,” a casino-themed number (just a tiny bit patronizing), clubs, spades, hearts and diamonds flashed across the stage as showgirls made a ring around her and then strutted out into the crowd with full feather headdresses.
It’s hard to remember all the songs she did, even though in the first couple bars of every song I screamed out the title. “Freakum Dress” was awesome, so was “Diva,” “Baby Boy,” and “Crazy In Love.” Lots of people, when I told them I was going to see her freaked out with excitement for me. Even if you’re not a fan you know that it’s going to be a big show. Haters like to say she can dance and perform but singing isn’t her thing. Well, she sang her ass off last night and even the most ardent skeptics must’ve been won over by her overall fierceness. She brought it last night. She deserves every last penny of that reportedly $7 million-dollar paycheck she got for four shows.
Right before she finished, she told the crowd that she’s been inspired to “go back into the lab.” CLASSIC BEY. She asked her Bey Hive (seriously, there were lots of black and yellow bees in the crowd) what they wanted: “Some uptempo numbers? Some slow jams? Some rock?” Lil’ bit of errething and whatever you wanna make, girl, was generally the consensus. And the idea of a brand new Beyonce record’s enough to get us through this summer with her four great LPs. Do you and do Blue Ivy, Queen. And see you on the Parkway in September.
May 26th, 2012 8:44 am
It Has Come To This, Dear Readers, Your Resident Diva-Worshipper Needs Help Attending Beyonce At Revel On Sunday Night
Long story short, it pains me how excited and anxious I am at the same time. This four-night run of Beyonce shows are sold out. And they’re also certain to be mind-blowingly awesome. Tickets were purchased months ago, but I was only able to purchase them with a FAT check on Wednesday thinking I’d find a companion at SOME point before Sunday. Wrong.
Obstacle #1: Everyone has Memorial Day weekend plans wayyyyy before the Wednesday before.
Obstacle #2: Originally, they were bought for $667 on StubHub. I wrote a check for $615. I’m hoping for $300 from a partner but at this point am feeling negotiable.
Obstacle #3: Getting back. There’s ample trains TO Atlantic City on Sunday evening. But the return trip is a frightening prospect. See, normally there’s a late-night NJ Transit train from Atlantic City to Philadelphia BUT NOT ON MONDAY, MAY 28th. So drivers would be saviors.
Obstacle #4: There is a veritable SEA of Beyonce ticket ads on Craigslist. Seriously. So that’s why I’m calling on you, friends.
See, I would’ve tried to attack Revel PR people with treasures and gifts to ply press access out of them, but they don’t give an F. They’ve got ballers with dollars falling out of their pockets happily paying full-price for tickets to this thing. But a freaked-out music writer is worried about this turning into a $600 self-date where I sleep on the beach until buses run in the morning on Monday.
Well, I turned to Craigslist last night with an ad that I didn’t even realize was suggestive of dateness. I’m not looking for that folks. Here’s the text of the ad with a photo of the tickets and I’ll ask that you respond through the ad, since I don’t have a non-personal email address to offer:
“This is really tough. I’m PUMPED about this show. But worried about this extra ticket that I have. I’m going to try to be delicate about this language because there’s loads of potential for weirdness here.
I’m not looking for a date here, but I’m looking for someone to help me afford this Beyonce experience. And, well, I’m gay.
So preferably a female or a gay man doesn’t have plans for Sunday night and has $300+ to spend on the Queen Bey. I’m a 29-year-old writer and waiter in Center City Philly, and in an ideal world, a Philadelphian would want to drive and I’d go halfs on gas.
Let’s go. Here’s a photo of dem tickets.”
HERE’S DAT URL: http://philadelphia.craigslist.org/tix/3038831587.html
May 25th, 2012 12:30 pm
Go See It This Weekend: Black Dice, Peek-A-Boo Revue, Phreak N Queer, Soundtrack Series, And Agents of Abhorrence.
Friday, May 25
Black Dice
These Brooklyn experimentalists compose soundtracks for our post-apocalyptic future. There are no words, only the sputtering thrum of malfunctioning machinery, limping along like Battlebots disabled by their stretch in the Thunderdome. Beneath the spark-spewing sputter and static exists a heartbeat. For while Black Dice’s noisy excursions conceive a world on the edge of disintegration, intimations of structure and even musicality persist. This struggle against chaos cultivates a poetic air even while their sixth album, Mr. Impossible, continues their push into more warped electronic-driven tones, like war bleeding into space, artfully blending the destruction of Japanese noise pioneer Merzbow and the dance-floor pep of LCD Soundsystem. -Chris Parker
8:30pm. $10. With Far-Out Fangtooth + Nah. Underground Arts, 1200 Callowhill St.
undergroundarts.org
Saturday, May 26
Peek-A-Boo Revue
Now celebrating 10 years of classic cabaret/burlesque-style entertainment, the babes and boys of Philly’s award-winning neo-burlesque show will soon be heading to Las Vegas to compete for “Best Troupe” at the 2012 Burlesque Hall of Fame. But before they go, audiences will have a chance to wish them all broken legs and popped pasties as they perform their steamy new show at the Troc. As the beautiful dancers get you feeling hot and bothered with their twirling tassels and titillating dances, house band the Striptease Orchestra will have you bumping and grinding in your chair—while hilarious hosts Joey Martini and Count Scotchula may just have you falling out of it. -Nicole Finkbiner
9pm. $20. Trocadero, 1003 Arch St. 215.922.6888. thetroc.com
Phreak N Queer
“Think Ke$ha if Ke$ha would once and for all admit that she eats brains,” said Philebrity of the sass-divas Rainbeaux Bite and Brian Reignbow, who make up Rainbow Destroyer’s particular flavor of “Zombie Pop.” But rainbows are only one piece of this fabulous fundraiser for the second annual Phreak N Queer festival happening in August. The night will feature six stellar acts: “post-gender character surrealist” and jaw-droppingly good contemporary dancer Messapotamia Lefae and costume extraordinaire Alaya Richmin of the Dumpsta Players will travel north from their usual Bob and Barbara’s haunt to join the Liberty City Drag Kings, PW’s Most Talented New Drag Queen Tammy Faymous, and Ms. Mary Wanna. Top it all off with dancing to tunes spun by DJ’s Lucky 7 (700 Club, Trestle Inn) and Evil V (Tabu, Terri’s) and you may never leave. -Emma Eisenberg
11pm. $5. Kung Fu Necktie, 1250 N. Front St. 215.291.4919. kungfunecktie.com
Sunday, May 27
Soundtrack Series
Created and hosted by writer Dana Rossi, this monthly storytelling series from New York City invites five guest writers to get on the mic to tell hilarious or heart-wrenching stories they forever associate with a song from their past. During this special one-night-only show here in Philly, you’ll hear how prolific local storyteller Hillary Rea discovered the true meaning behind the lyrics of The Vapors’ 1980 hit “Turning Japanese” and why playwright, stand-up dramedian and six-time First Person Arts Story Slam winner R. Eric Thomas can’t get enough of Patti LaBelle’s “New Attitude.” Other featured storytellers include music journalist Maria Raha and Tyler Melchior from 1812 Productions. -Nicole Finkbiner
8pm. $10. L’Etage, 624 S. Sixth St. 215.592.0656. creperie-beaumonde.com
ALSO The Troc’s got Rhapsody of Fire Friday night and My Favorite Downside on Saturday night, AND don’t forget about the Polyphonic Spree at the TLA on Friday night, AND Agents of Abhorrence headline a 5-band lineup of death at the Church, AND North Star Bar’s got The Idea Men’s album release show on Friday night, and on Saturday night Brooklyn Vegan’s got a showcase with Church of Misery, AND on Friday night Milkboy’s got Marti Jones & Don Dixon, then on Saturday they’ve got the Phanasm CD release show.
May 24th, 2012 12:22 pm
The Cult Mentality Is A Frightening One And The Polyphonic Spree Will Bring It Tomorrow Night At The TLA
Our friend Bryan Bierman wrote a great story for the Philadelphia Weekly this week about cult bands. But before we force-feed you his thoughts, here are some other thoughts. Did you know about this film that’s playing at the Ritz called Sound of My Voice? It’s a wild one and, truly, a bit unsettling and leaves you wondering for days afterwards about what you’ve seen. It’s about a young couple in Silver Lake who hear about a woman who claims she’s from the future and the ‘cult’ that’s been growing around her. Maggie is gorgeous, a wispy hippie-like blond who says she’s from 2054 (isn’t it funny how the year that people have to say they’re from has to jump by huge numbers as the world continues to make future movies?). Peter and Lorna, a suspicious and adventure-seeking duo, want to check it out and that’s about all you’re gonna get. Needless to say, the cult mentality is explored: there are people who truly, deeply believe in it all. Your cult leader asks you to shave your head? Gimme the clippers. Wear these Nikes? I’mma size 10. Ask no questions? Yes, ma’am. It’s these people that died in Heaven’s Gate. Cult leaders can, and generally should, be regarded as dangerous creatures. And that’s something Mr. Bierman touches on here, and wonders why all those robe-wearing Polyphonic Spree singers are always so damn happy:
When a band has a small, yet very devoted fan base, some people—mainly music writers—describe them as having a “cult following.” Presumably, this analogy upset actual cults in the late ’60s, as a few then began flirting with the music biz (Charles Manson, the Process Church of the Final Judgment, Peoples Temple) before realizing they should stick to their crazy day jobs. Whether or not it was a conscious decision, over the years a handful of groups have highlighted the similarities between rock bands and cults. In advance of Friday’s Polyphonic Spree show at the TLA, here are a few artists who truly blur the line.
The Polyphonic Spree
The most famous “cult” band around, this choir-pop act features almost two dozen members, including “leader” Tim DeLaughter. Although New Jersey’s Danielson Famile did it first, the Spree have adopted the matching robes synonymous of religious groups, consider themselves a “family,” and are always happy. Sunshine-y pop tunes? Identical garments? An appearance on Scrubs? Definitely a cult.
Captain Beefheart & the Magic Band
During the year leading up to the recording of their über-unique and essential Trout Mask Replica album in 1969, the Magic Band lived on a commune in California, where they would rehearse for 14 hours a day with barely any food or contact with the outside world. Captain Beefheart, aka Don Van Vliet, would routinely attack the band members mentally and physically until they obeyed his commands. Oddly enough, it worked—the group was so tight that they recorded most of the double album, which would go on to be viewed by most as an avant-garde masterpiece, in a little over six hours. So if you look past the deep emotional scars, it was worth it.
Up With People
Since forming in 1965, teenage song-and-dance group Up With People have spread their squeaky clean pep all over the world, performing for popes, presidents and at Super Bowls. Designed to provide an upstanding, red-blooded American alternative to the hippie-ridden ’60s, the group was backed by the ultra right-wing group Moral Re-Armament (which purportedly had Nazi ties), as well as giant corporations such as Exxon, Enron and Halliburton, which benefitted from their “everything is perfectly fine” message. According to the 2009 documentary Smile ‘Til It Hurts , the rotating casts of young members (who pay a large tuition to join) were not only barred from sitting next to the opposite sex, but were persuaded into joining arranged marriages that controlled the number of children they could have. In other words: Cult!
The Ramones
Think about it: They looked the same, their names were the same, even a lot of the songs were the same. Any new recruits were forced to obey these rules, brainwashed by the chants of “Gabba Gabba Hey!” “I Wanna Be Sedated” is a song about accepting, zombie-like, these rules. Honest.
Polyphonic Spree perform Fri., May 25. 7pm. $18. With Sweet Lee Morrow. TLA, 334 South St. 215.922.1011. tlaphilly.com
May 23rd, 2012 11:23 am
Spacin’ Scores 7.8 On Pitchfork
Oh, hey, remember that time we told you about Philly’s Spacin’ and how you should do yourself the solid of listening to the deep groove of their bong water drenched song “Empty Mind”? Well, it seems the tightly clinched assholes of Pitchfork took our advice. They love the TestostereTunes/Richie Records released Deep Thuds too, and gave it a 7.8 today on their tightly clinched asshole rating system. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??? Sorry. We’re shocked, yes, but also not really. Because you can’t deny this album, which we’ve come to listen to on pretty much a constant loop the last few weeks. Here’s Pitchfork getting it right: “But honestly, how can an album called Deep Thuds by a band called Spacin’ with a drippy Rolling Stones logo on its cover not be remotely funny? Everything about the band’s presentation says the album should be frontloaded with irony or snotty humor, but there’s nothing like that here. Instead, it’s a record that’s patient, flows beautifully, offers sludgy production, and is packed with killer hooks.” Yep. Congrats to the guys of Spacin’ for besting Meek Mill by .4 Pitchfork Points. Be sure to cash them out at the register for Chinese handcuffs.
May 23rd, 2012 11:15 am
Double Duchess Is Two Divas From San Francisco Who Turned It Out At Woody’s Last Night
In another edition of Stash vs. Qream, the free Tuesday night alt-queer weekly party joined forces with the monthly drag family that is Qream. There are always a handful of usual suspects in the Qream lineup: hosted by Oscar Wildchilde and supported by Tammy Faymous, Ginger Alley, Chaz Casz and, last night, with a new girl, Sooshi Harajuku. But last night they threw in an extra-special guest, the sassy spitting duo of davO and Krylon Superstar. They were nasty (good nasty) and it was a refreshing taste of queer hip-hop.
And you should hear this EP called Hey Girl. Prior to last night, we’d been exposed to “bang my coochie,” a sickening hybrid between Big Freedia’s brand of sissybounce and our own Sgt. Sass’ outright queer sensibility. It’s real high-energy. There’s a little Spank Rockness in there, too, especially in those Baltimore-flavored club-banger beats. The energy is pretty infectious and they were feeling Philly last night in their first visit to the Gayborhood. The music itself was significantly awesome and fun, but that wasn’t even the half. You should’ve seen how they looked.
They both wore a black lace booty short unitard kind of number. Krylon had her braids up in some kind of Star Wars prom up do and davO’s big plastic glasses complemented his tattoos. They wore makeup and jewelery – Krylon had a big ole’ gold coin necklace but mid-performance she lost the jewels and the buns. That would get in the way of dropping to the floor like you’re dead. That’s how they do in Paris Is Burning, most certainly an influence on these queens. There was much vogueing and “WORK!”s. The main upstairs dancefloor room has these crazy neon lights along the wall and a little stage – it looks like a bootleg Hype Williams video. The stage is a workable stage and these two ran it like Naomi Campbell wannabes with struts and poses.
Anyway, check out their site for reference and like em’ on Facbeook. And don’t pass up another chance to see them ever again.
