It’s not grungy or gritty or lo-fi or coldwave or darkwave or any of the various peripheral genres creeping in more and more. Nope, this is unabashed beach-pop. A troubador in bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt trolling the fog-covered beaches of San Francisco, a beaten up acoustic guitar strapped around his neck. Sonny and the Sunsets don’t deign to the ironic, they don’t play with tape-decks or fuzz boxes or even the basics like reverb and distortion. They tune up, turn on, and just let the, sigh, good times flow.
When I caught Sonny and his declining suns almost a year ago, squished between the twangy garage of Nodzzz and the shirt-ripping yaller of Thee Oh Sees, they seemed bland, unexcited performing on a stage at a cheap Mexican restaurant in front of a large screen television. But now, thanks to the good folk at Raven Sings The Blues, I’m diving back in.
I went to see Nodzzz in a small sweaty room called The Hemlock in San Francisco on Tuesday night. I left worried about the future of my beloved Nodzzz, but sort of half-in-love with the boozy swagger of Thomas Function. On record, it’s a bit cleaner, a bit more twangy garage-country, with lead singer Joshua Macero adding a sort of scatter-brained yaller to mix.
Nodzzz, though you made me chuckle, I’m still worried. Thomas Function, it’s been lovely to meet you.
This blog world is a funny thing, a funny place that breeds funny ideas. I came to San Francisco dead set that Nodzzz, the spunky little rock trio from The Bay, were celebrities, famed the world over.
My thinking was changed when I saw the trio (short in stature if you didn’t know) perform at a Mexican restaurant-turned venue to a smattering of folk. Weeks later I stumbled past the lead singer on the street. He wasn’t even wearing fur.
Nonetheless, my irrational celebrity worship still feels valid, as their most recent 7″ is just as fun-loving spectacular as their album of last year. Someday there will be limousines and Cristal.
There’s a sort of twangy country feel to the happy-go-lucky garage rock of local Atlanta, Georgia legend Bobby Ubangi’s new album. A sort of Nodzzz-meets-the-South feeling about the whole affair, that makes me shake my head in musical appreciation and thanks the good world that I stumbled upon Mr. Ubangi two days ago.
Ramshackle charm, I think that’s how I’d describe it. It’s warm, almost friendly music, that makes you want to drive a beat-up station wagon through the South, Ubangi blasting from your half-working speakers.
I’m done with just songs and concert previews. I’m moving in to the world of embedded video. I know stone age shit here, but it’s taken me a while to get use to watching concert footage, music videos on such on my computer, so this is a big healthy step for me.
Strangely enough, the oft-maligned Pitchfork has helped me change my thoughts on the matter as they’ve been releasing a series of just brilliant films and live concerts for the perusal of all. One of my favorite bands of the year so far Nodzzz put on this up-beat little set at The Market Hotel in New York and couldn’t help but share it.
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