Not to rely on this crutch too too often, but we’re pointing over to our sister Web journal, Forgotten Favorite, today, where we’ve got a somewhat self-referential piece on my old band, Daytime Television, inspired by the 25th anniversary of our alma mater’s college radio station, WXJM. Give it a look + listen.
Somehow in the hustle + bustle of 2014, we 100% missed the long-anticipated debut LP from a Brooklyn newgaze favorite, Field Mouse.
The band was in the midst of hammering out album details when we last spoke with them in a 2013 interview and, luckily, they didn’t take any major detours in terms of the band’s sound live and on the many singles + EPs released leading up to that point. Noisey washes of bending, layered guitars give singer, Rachel Browne, a point on the wall to aim for as she sways back and forth between blended swoons and piercing, poppier, forward vocals, all setting a tone that both solidly nods to the early 90s shoegaze I loved and works to gain new ground.
By all accounts, the band made a pretty big impression at SXSW last week, so here’s to their success! The band’s been raising funds to help pay for a tour that’s led up to and continued on beyond South by, offering a host of fun rewards, among them, a new cover album they’re set to record. Check out details on the band’s Web site.
You can listen to the new LP, Hold Still Life, in full below and buy it in its various forms through their label, Top Shelf Records.
I wrote semi-recently about the always amazing Björk on the sister retrospective music journal we do with Pel, Forgotten Favorite. It was on the occasion of the entirety of her new album, Vulnicura, being leaked online. When this happened to Madonna last year, she smashed an iPad and posted a photo of it on Instagram saying something along the lines of ‘This is how I feel right now’. And yes, I do follow Madonna on Instagram.
Björk’s response—Fuck it. I’ll just release the whole thing now then. Outta nowhere, we all had a new Björk album.
I’m sure Björk may well have had her smashing-things moment, but that’s a pretty baller move.
I’ll be honest, I have yet to get the album—I’m waiting for the vinyl‘s March 23rd release—but what I’ve heard is great, not only just because I love most everything Björk does but because it seems to be stating her beautifully between her most commercial, traditionally pleasing music and her experimental quirkiness. Or to maybe put it more directly, she’s getting good and taking that experimental quirkiness and crafting it into something most of us just recognize as uniquely beautiful songs.
This week, she released a video for one of the album’s more standout tracks, “Lionsong”, keeping all visual experimental quirkiness intact.
Check it out below and STOP STEALING PEOPLE’S MUSIC, PEOPLE!
Or maybe keep it up. Then this happens:
Our friend, Lauren, recently brought to our attention this lovely, delicate cover of The War on Drugs‘ “Red Eyes” by Swedish artist, Alice Boman.
Enjoy.
We’re releasing our March mixtape today, and I’ve gotta say, it features a ton of music that’s got us really excited, both from longtime favorite bands and newcomers alike.
Not only do we have a new one from Canadian band, Purity Ring—hands down, my favorite new band in the past five or so years—we’ve also got a new one from other favorite Canadian band, Braids, a group that’s continued to evolve and reinvent itself in truly exciting ways, all in a relatively short period of time. New music too from noise-punk Brits, Joanna Gruesome; Viet Cong, out of (yes) Canada; German trio, Aloa Input (who we interviewed a year back); fun, early Depeche-Mode-esque stuff from Belfast electronic group GO WOLF; and some awesome, very California-feeling music from Tall Tales and the Silver Lining, who just released their debut full-length via Other Music Recording Co and from whom we expect great things.
Check it all out below or on our SoundCloud page; you can access other music posts by clicking the Music button to the right and check out previous mixtapes for January + February.
Here it is, nearly March, and—with everything going on of late—we realize we haven’t yet written up this year’s New Year’s cards.
Since 2005, Katie + I have sent out custom holiday cards or new year’s cards (depending on how festive we where feeling…and scheduling). We started off pretty simple, printing a small run ourselves on our medium format digital printed and cutting + folding ourselves, gradually moving on to more involved designs, like 2006’s squirrel + acorn cards, with hand-cut acorn-shaped openings showing through the design inside the card.
In 2010, we made the move to outsource the production of the cards as our mailing list grew along with our desire for higher quality. We chose to have them printed using a traditional letterpress, which we’d recently moved to using for our wedding invitation work.
Letterpress printing is a type of relief printing—basically creating a surface that presses into the paper or whatever material you’re printing on with ink (or without if you want to create what’s called a blind imprint). It’s the same concept involved in moveable type relief printing presses—the kind originated in the east nearly 1,000 years ago and popularized int he western world by Johannes Gutenberg in the 1400’s; what you’d think of being used for early newspaper printing. Back then, both letters + images had to be made individually out of metal or wood and then arranged by hand. The resulting print—especially on thicker, more impressionable material—is something that differentiates itself from conventional offset or digital printing in both quality of the look and feel.
Today, the concept behind the process is the same, but technology’s made things a lot less arduous. We simply send our design files out to a plate fabricator who uses them to create a flexible relief plate—kind of like a stamp. That plate is then used in a printing press that has paper fed through by a series of rollers.
We had our first letterpress cards printed by a guy in south Brooklyn who used an awesome old, hand-cranked model in a shared space near Bushwick. His quality was superb, but the size and frequency of our orders eventually outgrew his scope, so we moved to press in Ohio recommended by our friend, Jane Buck of the excellent Foxy + Winston.
Following in the footsteps of last year’s card—a tribute to the then recently deceased Lou Reed—we again chose to highlight the lyrics to a favorite song of both of ours—”Under Pressure” by David Bowie + Queen. We usually pull imagery from flora and/or fauna with these and, for whatever reason, the elegance in form of a great horned owl seemed to fit this year. Maybe we were subconsciously channeling Bowie’s Goblin King from Labyrinth.
You can see more shots of the card below—see the relief in the paper?
You can see designs form years past in our portfolio.
A few weeks back, we got an oddly minimal email from electronic duo The Blow that started with:
TWO WAYS TO SPREAD THE ELECTRIC WOMEN:
1. ON THE INTERNET
WE MADE A WEBSITE IT’S CALLED WOMANPRODUCER.COM
www.womanproducer.com OR @womanproducer
The second way was just to go see the old school electro pop band live, but the site caught my eye as intriguing.
Essentially, it seems to serve as an homage to women in music production and the more arcane, complicated world of early electronic music, when you needed something akin to the code-breaking computer in The Imitation Game to play a single note.
The Blow’s site is equally minimalist as it is deep, focusing on a specific artist for each post and then featuring a series of usually awesome photos of them in their studios, followed by a long list of Web links for continued self-education on the genre and artist.
Below, a few of our favorite images. See the rest at WomanProducer.com.
File Under: This Looks Awesome.
Salad Days: A Decade of Punk in Washington, DC (1980-90) is a documentary film that examines the early DIY punk scene in the Nation’s Capital, a scene that can easily be called one of the most influential in recent times. Like the related riot grrrl scene, it highlighted to so many of us that music and politics and social change can and should all influence each other and gave voice to a generation who wanted to change the world.
As the film-makers put it:
“This was a particularly important time in the evolution of punk and independent music, with DC based bands like Minor Threat, Bad Brains, Black Market Baby, the Faith, the Slickee Boys, Void, Government Issue, Marginal Man, Dag Nasty, 9353, Gray Matter, Beefeater, Scream, Rites of Spring, Fugazi, Shudder to Think, Nation of Ulysses, Jawbox and others defining the DC aesthetic. Local record labels like Dischord, Fountain of Youth, Teen Beat, and Simple Machines would become standard-bearers for the DIY revolution.”
Created by Writer/Director, Scott Crawford—old school DC scenester + creator of the fanzine, Metrozine—and Director of Photography, Jim Saah—who basically taught himself photography by documenting the punk scene in DC—the film comes with built in cred. It adds to that with interviews from the very people who created this seminal scene and those it impacted, like Dave Grohl.
We lived in DC ages ago, in the wake of this musical, cultural, socio-political scene, and, even to this day, so many waves of gentrification and change for the better and/or worse later, it still very much feeds into the city and its people in a very unique, beautiful, independent way. So I can’t wait to check the film out.
You can see a trailer for it below; scroll down further for screening dates as they’ve been announced.
Salad Days Official Trailer from Scott Crawford on Vimeo.
Scheduled Salad Day Screenings:
February 14 at Top Hat in Missoula, MT (Big Sky Film Festival)
February 15 at Midtown Cinema in Harrisburg, PA
February 21 at Roxie Theatre in San Francisco, CA (West Coast Premiere)
February 25 at SPACE Gallery in Portland, ME
February 27 at Kiggins Theatre in Vancouver, WA
February 27 at The Regent in Los Angeles, CA
February 27 at Grand Illusion Cinema in Seattle, WA
March 1 at Stage II Cinema in Amesbury, MA
March 2 at Prytania Theatre in New Orleans, LA
March 6 at Circle Cinema in Tulsa, OK
March 6 at UCSD in San Diego, CA
March 8 at Underground Arts in Philadelphia, PA
March 13 at XOXO B Modern Events Venue in Las Vegas, NV
March 15 at Byrd Theater in Richmond, VA
March 19 at Metro Gallery in Baltimore, MD
March 20 at Greenwich Odeum in East Greenwich, RI
March 20 at Ojata Records in Grand Forks, ND
March 22 at Alamo Drafthouse in Houston, TX
March 22 at Alamo Drafthouse in Austin, TX
March 23 at Alamo Drafthouse in Dallas, TX
March 27 at Hollywood Theater in Portland, OR
March 30 at High Noon Saloon in Madison, WI
April 10 at AS220 in Providence, RI
April 16 at The Local 662 in Tampa, FL
April 17 at Gateway Film Center in Columbus, OH
April 17 at Headliners Music Hall in Louisville, KY
April 17 at FilmBar in Phoenix, AZ
April 17 at IFC in New York, NY
April 18 at BSP Kingston in Kingston, NY
April 18 at The Hollywood Theater Dormont in Pittsburgh, PA
April 23 at Bryant Lake Bowl & Theater in Minneapolis, MN
April 24 at The North Door in Austin, TX
April 24 at Studio C in Lansing, MI
April 25 at The Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor, MI
Photo of Guy Picciotto of Fugazi by Jim Sahh.
Some bands blend serious, weighty, emotive music with equally serious, weighty, emotive lyrics, which sometimes works, sometimes can be a bit of a downer. Other bands blend much less deep but high-energy, happy music with subject matter that matches that music, which sometimes is great, sometimes smacks of saccharine sweetness that leaves you with an emotional belly ache.
In my experience, the best songs, the ones that stick with you long term, marry some healthy balance of sweetness in the music with a depth and thoughtfulness in their lyrics. San Francisco-based Geographer is like a factory for such songs, churning out music that can both get your feet tapping and leave you thinking about life, love, and everything in between.
We featured their sweepingly beautiful single, “I’m Ready”, on our February mixtape and recently got a chance to catch up with Mike Deni leading up to the release of his third album as Geographer—Ghost Modern—to talk about what inspires his writing, the changing scene in San Francisco, the ocean, and nihilism.
raven + crow: Alright, Mike, thanks for taking the time to talk with us. First question—myth or fact?—You started writing music when you found a synth on the street.
Mike Deni: A little of both. I’ve been writing music since I was 12. My Dad got me a four-track cassette recorder, and I spent an enormous chunk of my childhood down there layering acoustic guitars, saxophone, and an clay drum my sister made for me with stretched goat skin. That sounds like a lie, but it’s true! I soon graduated to really really slow computer software (it was cutting edge at the time) and then the songs got really over-blown. We’re talking 16 vocal tracks at times. I still have to rein myself in sometimes even now. But the fact portion is that I did find a synthesizer on the street when I first moved here while I was out for a jog, and I wrote “Can’t You Wait” on it, and a number of other songs that went on to be the first songs I wrote as Geographer.
Man. I gotta start jogging in better, more synth-heavy locales. What would you say drives the writing behind the new album thematically?
Being tired of feeling like an outsider, being ready to plug into life, to stop distancing myself from existence on intellectual grounds. Basically exploring what happens after you realize there’s no reason for you to be here, and you’ll never get a satisfying answer. But the best art comes without satisfying answers, so why should we want more from life?
Fair. I saw a quote from you talking about the album that “life has no discernable meaning or purpose, and your life is a dream.” Is that something you believe powers your writing…and living, for that matter, in a positive way, freeing up inhibitions or more of a Nihilist view?
It’s something I struggle with. I don’t feel quite set free by it. I envy people who don’t feel that way. But the way my mind works, I have a hard time taking things at face value. In the writing of this album, the lyrics, particularly, at the advice of a good friend, I tried to push beyond disbelief, beyond disillusionment. They don’t have to get the last word. Sure if a tree falls and no one’s there to hear it, you could argue that it’s not there, that you’re not here, that there is no here. But there’s certainly something…somewhere, and I guess I started to feel tired of thinking that other way. Before I started writing the album, I think I reached the borders of post modern thought, and pushed into something more dangerous, more lonely, which I call Ghost Modernism. Because I felt I had examined things so intently, deconstructed them so fully, that not only they, but I, had lost all meaning. It was as if everything just faded away. It’s very human to deconstruct, but the endpoint of deconstruction is, well, nothing. And I want to have something. I want to feel a part of things, full of life, not overwhelmed by it. So that’s the journey of the album.
Wow. I like that you’re putting that journey into the music rather than keeping it to yourself. I can only imagine that’s somewhat cathartic. I also read that you wrote much of it while sitting in the Presidio, looking out at the water. Was that something that fed your creative process?
Definitely. The ocean factors strongly in the album, and infected my thoughts ever since I saw The Master for the first time. In that film the ocean is this roiling, churning symbol of the obscured self, the raging animal under the placid surface, the unknowable forces of the world and our lives. And then there I was staring at the ocean, writing these songs. One of the songs I wrote on a deck of a house in Mendocino right on the edge of a cliff, just staring at the ocean all day long with my keyboard on the banister, working the lines over and over again. That one doesn’t have anything explicitly about the ocean, but it was just a powerful image looming in front of me as I tried to simplify this song.
I know what you mean. When I first started getting into photography, I spent a whole moonless night just photographing the ocean—I was obsessed with the ocean at night. It’s a powerful thing.
So ,what brought you out to San Francisco in the first place?
Two friends from college. They moved there right after we graduated, and I went to Boston, and then back home. I was telling them about my life back in NJ and they basically staged an intervention and said, “You’re moving to San Francisco, and we’re driving out with you when we come home this summer.” So we packed up the car and drove across in 3 days, and I lived on their floor for a month. That’s when I found the synthesizer, and started writing a bunch of the first songs.
Good friends. There’s been a lot of talk of late of the city changing a lot, mostly in terms of the cost of living sky-rocketing. Have you seen a lot of change in those terms lately?
Yeah, I mean, it’s real. I’m not really qualified to talk about that in an intelligent way though. I’m an emotions guy.
Hah. How’s the music there these days though?
A lot of my friends have moved away, so a lot of our “local” artists either have no home, are on tour all the time, or they call home somewhere else. But I’ll always think of them as locals.
Man. Kinda sounds like New York of late. Any SF bands you’re liking a lot?
I’m just a big fan of Waters. I feel so invigorated by that music. Songs. That’s what gets me going, not doodads, as much as I love those. I need songs, and Waters provides them.
Yeah, we’re fans. Now, I saw Geographer described as “romantic indie pop” somewhere. I don’t think I’ve seen that particular sub-genre up until now. Can you break that down for me? Is it just dudes in a band who like The Notebook a lot?
That’s it. If you look up “Romantic Indie Pop” that’s exactly what it says. We can make up a genre right now. It’s fun. “Garage Folk”. There’s one.
I don’t want to want to hear what garage folk sounds like…but I do want to, despite myself. In the studio, is Geographer essentially a solo project at this point?
Yeah, I mean, it’s always been like that. The idea of a solitary artist, though, at least in music, is a myth, for the most part. Even if it’s just your producer, or your manager, or the musicians around you, everyone’s interpreting your thoughts, even if you write them out on a page. That’s what’s so exciting about the studio. It’s like playing telephone. You have to pass your ideas through everybody else’s brain before it hits the tape. Or the hard drive, as the case may be. Sometimes I write every single note in a song, down to each drum fill, and the band members or studio musicians will just play it. Other times I’ll utilize their creativity, like wave my arms around and hum the kind of thing I want them to play, but I’ll want it to come from their own mind, you know, so I can stretch outside the limits of my own conceptions. Most of the people on the record, the horn players, the string players—there’s a harp on one song—the fans will never even meet, which is kind of strange. I like keeping the core of the band small, I like using the same people for touring and recording when I can, but sometimes people just don’t want to tour. That happened with Nate and Brian recently. I was lucky enough to have them with me for 6 years, but they reached a point where they were like, “I hate to say it, but I just don’t want to tour anymore.” So I got a new crew to take the songs on the road with me. I really went over this city with a fine-toothed comb, and I am overjoyed with what I came back with. I added another guitar, which I’ve wanted to do forever, just didn’t have the means. And we’re doing things on stage I’ve always wanted to, it really frees me up to concentrate on what I love about live performance and not be tied to making so many of the sounds myself. We played our first three shows together a few weeks ago, and it was the most fun I’ve had on stage in a long time.
That’s awesome. You seem to pull in a lot of traditional bowed string instruments in the music—is that keyboard-based or old-school?
You mean are they real? Yes, they’re real stringed instruments. I write the parts using midi on my computer, but with string sounds, you really need the real thing, at least for the sounds I’m going for. There’s nothing like a violin hitting those high notes. It’s the most delicate, almost death-defying feeling. It’s crazy how good these people are, the control and prowess they have with their instruments. It’s very humbling.
Agreed—I’ve always thought that’s one thing synths just can’t replicate that well, strings. It’s like finding an awesome vegan cheese. So, I saw that St. Vincent’s listed as an “associated act” on your Wikipedia page, but with no explanation whatsoever—is there a connection there or is that an Internet flub?
Well, it’s a stretch. Nate, the old touring cellist, was in Annie’s band when she was just Annie Clark, at Berkelee School of Music, in Boston. So it’s more of a 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon than an association.
I mean, I’ll take it. You toured last year with Tokyo Police Club, right? How was that?
I loved it. I’ve never made so many friends in one band, their tour manager and merch guy included! It was just a party. They’re just the sweetest, most fun guys. They’re giving Canada an even better name in my book.
Yeah, I don’t know those guys, but they seem fun. I didn’t see an LA date on your 2015 tour. Soon to come?
You just missed it, man! We blew the lid off the El Rey. It was such a fun show. But I’m sure we’ll be back real soon.
Damn my luck! We’ll keep an eye out then. And thanks again for talking, man.
My pleasure. It’s my second favorite thing to do. Thanks for the thoughtful questions.
You can pre-order Geographer’s new album, Ghost Modern (out March 24), through the band’s record label, Roll Call Records and through iTunes.
Profile shot of Mike by Victoria Smith; live photo from Geographer’s January show at the El Rey by Scott Sheff.
A quick reminder to continue to check in with Forgotten Favorite, the retrospective music journal we recently started up with Paul Singh of Pel.
Up today, a write-up I (Troy) did on the excellent 90s Brit-twee-punk band, Milky Wimpshake.
