by Campfire OK Seattle's Campfire OK will be at the Crocodile on September 23rd opening for Fences CD Release Show
Shenandoah Davis
Photo by Abbey Simmons ::: Saturday September 4th at 4:30pm Shenandoah Davis plays the Bumbershoot edition of the Round with Goldfinch and Tomo Nakayma
I know, I know, I know - I’ve posted two tracks by The Mallard already, name-checked her shows on countless occasion and am generally a complete and total sycophant when it comes to her music, new and old. That said, I can barely contain my excitement for this track from her new, very hard to find, cassette and this track “Old Hates Tatestale” - a churning bit of blues and garage and flat-lining melodies that spins and spuns and unravels in to a white-capped pool of noise.
Northwest, you are a lucky region, as The Mallard is diving in to her jalopy for a short jaunt up the coast. Portland, Seattle and Bellingham will all get to experience this impressively one-womaned show, one I’ve seen countless times and am blown away a little bit more every go.
Dates:
Kimo’s - San Francisco, CA - August 25th (with other amazing act Dylan Tidyman-Jones)
The Bourbon Bar at Columbia City Theater - Seattle, WA - August 29th (Free! 9pm)
This album has been floating around the old music box for a good few months now, and I’m still enraptured by it.
The video, as directed by Ben Chapel and Aaron Brown, feels toxic, but in an entertaining way. The song, well then, the song just feels like crunchy pop ice cream on a tin waffle cone.
I posted a track from South Carolina’s Top Girls a few weeks back after being slowly seduced by their metallic tasting tunes. And if “Not Enuff” skirted the edge of sort of new-wave industrialism, “Faded Feeling” dives directly off the chrome plated board in to a roiling oil slick of it. Yet, Top Girls don’t reflect the sort of machine-like pulse one would associate with traditional industrial music. Yes, “Faded Feeling” dips its toes in the exposed concrete of a good old-fashioned warehouse, but there’s a gentleness to the track, slipping and sliding about under the wall of crunchy bass and 80s keys that peels off the typically-harsh layer. It floats now, bereft of the weight, in and out of ones ear.
Can’t tell you if this new video from Woods for their excellent track “Death Rattle” features a bunch of pagans celebrating the death of god in the forest or if it’s a bunch of LARPers casting imaginary fireballs and beheading invisible owlbears.
In a secret meeting last week, in the darkness of a parking garage, the acrid stink of American Spirits heavy in the air, the mysterious Mallard gave me the go-ahead to premiere yet another track. Again, The Mallard wows me with the ability to mix a sort of top-down beach attitude with the gravel-and-glass of a good garage act. But “Ex” the third song off a in-person-only cassette The Mallard hides beneath a tan trenchcoat adds a delightful streak of aggression, a driving churn expressed through yips and squeaks. As if this waterfowl is lifting a few musical weights, roping on a few inches of sheer weight to their sound.
Somehow, with the express approval of this green-headed bird of the world, I will give to you each and every song I have of this soon to be known entity. Just wait.
Kurt Vile, prolific sum’bitch that he is, has released another one. This time in the form of a free EP that once again captures his sort of crusty, brittle take on Americana. It is, as any Kurt Vile release ever is, moody and deeply immersed in the backwater towns of this strange country we, or at least most of we, call home.
Also entertaining, the whole damn thing is free.
And you can pick it up here for FREE courtesy of Matador.
The Sandwitches, favorites of mine from last year are climbing the ranks of enjoyment in a lot of folks minds right now. Their ability to jump from girl-garage to country twang to doo-wop swagger continues to make the corners of my mouth a little wet, and thus, the delivery of their new “12 EP has me twittering in odd fits and spasms.
Even more curious? The Sandwitches single off the EP (featured above and below) is a cover of the classic Disney tune “Baby Mine”. Yes there are no heartbroken baby elephants or cartoon crows smoking on their corn cob pipes, but please, reset your robot switch back to human if it doesn’t make your draw a tear.
Album drops July 13th. Pick it up for presale hereon Empty Cellars/Secret Seven.
There is a decidedly Andy Warhol “Empire” feel to this video for the Yuck song “Automatic.” I love this track, it’s sparseness, it’s chilly beautiful feel that reminds me of the first time I laid in bed next to a girl I loved and listened to Bon Iver on repeat. The imagery of a plane landing fits perfectly as well. Each and every time I feel the stomach twisting drop of an arrival, I stare out the window at the city rising in to the foreground, the blinking flash of the wing-tip light, the long slow curve of the wing. It’s always sort of soothing in some strange metaphysical way.
Yuck manages to pull off a similar feat, crafting a slow, beautiful song that reminds me of the gentle bump of wheel to runway. I wonder, would I have made a similar connection between landing and “Automatic” if not for this amazing video? Who knows, but this song, this song is beautiful.
Everyone, rightly so, is celebrating the soon-to-be-released Ears, Julian Lynch’s new album. And while I’m happy to throw my hat in that strange little ring, can we please call a little bit more attention to this Julian Lynch cover of Neil Young’s “Sedan Delivery”? The track is nestled in the list of a compilation Lynch and friends threw together to make a little government cheese for their debilitated pal who was, and most assuredly is, struggling to pay medical bills.
Lynch seems a perfect fit to cover the famed troubadour, as his music similarly avoids description or genre, always shifting and shimmering its way in to the next record. And luckily for all of us this tribute album, limited to 300 silk-screened LPs, is chock full of similarly talented folk, covering my very favorite Neil Young.
Buy the album, support a broken fellow, get a great few songs.
From the brief still the good folk at Vimeo offer I expected something far more, er, industrial. Instead Pigeons is haunting in a sort of Victorian-era castle sort of way. A see-through shift on a deceased bit of royalty, slowly floating her way down a gloomy hallway. There’s hints of concrete encased warehouses peeking in from a glue-smeared window, but as this video fades in to pixels, I’m turning the lights on high, pulling the blankets up to my chin, and gritting my teeth in dire anticipation of an apparition floating through the walls.
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