[disclaimer: Neil Cleary is neither stationed in Austin nor covering SXSW for The Contrarian or any other publication. He is indoors in Los Angeles and should probably be left alone.]

Sheepish Barista

A Sentence Is Our Band Name

The Jester McRainbowpants Facepunch Accident

Canadian Yelp Cult

Bangs and Handjobs

Beardy Num-Num and his Danish Girlfriend Trip Balls

The Formerly Significant (reunion tour)

Mascara Holocaust

Hank Williams the XIV

The BBQ Bartenders

Hello Pussy

Skoal Miner’s Daughter

Kickstarter & The Pity Party

Our Drummer is Forty

Captain Keytar & Smoke Machines

Ma-Sheen

Beards ‘n’ Beards

Haggard Allman

Zap Howdy, The South Austin Annoyance

Awsum Kassettes

Bannnnd

James Earl Ray Parker Jr.

The Chicks Too! Showcase

We Are From Sweden

Tattoo Clambake and the Greasemonkey Dayjobs

Shit Zeppelin

Drunk Janitors & Soundguys Local 118

Cedric The Entertainer

No sooner than I get back from Toronto do I jet off to Austin for SXSW. If things are a bit quiet around here this week, that’s why.

If you’re in town for the Bacchanal Music Fest, be sure to catch my special conversation with legendary producer Sandy Pearlman, which takes place at the Austin Conference Center at 3:30 PM, Wednesday, March 16.

Here’s the description:

The Future of Music – Is There One?
3:30 p.m. | Room 9ABC

Have the (probably) unintended consequences created by the relatively recent technology paradigm shift from analogue to a seamless digital universe of recording, production, storage and distribution of music led music itself to fall from grace? At least in its recorded incarnation. In this movement from tape deck to shuffle the deck, from analogue scarcity to digital infinity: Music has itself become hyper ubiquitous but correspondingly less influential. Is the Resurrection of Vinyl telling us something really important? In all the annals of unintended consequence, will the fate of music on digital platforms be the most unintended of all, the loss of ability to move the human spirit?

—–

Catch you on the flip…

Apart from their name (a minor reservation I’ve learned to live with), they have that magical combination of things that I love in a band: individual personalities within a strong band personality, fierce musical skill without pretentiousness, tight arrangements played with a loose feel, and well-written songs — but most importantly they’re just fun as shit. Their sense of humor and weird-but-right group aesthetic reminds me of what I love about NRBQ (the reason I have to watch this clip daily). Also similar to the ‘Q is their respect for and ability to play jazz without being bound by its pious trappings. Easier said than done.

I’ve seen them live all of once, but they have an infectious series of YouTube clips that have been quietly stoking my fandom. They’re simple, one-camera, lo-fi productions and showcase their knack for using simplicity to their advantage. The one limitation of the small screen is that it doesn’t accurately portray their ability to really rock a room. Live, they are a fantastic explosion of energy. Regardless, their clips are cute, and isn’t that what YouTube was built on?

www.youtube.com/watch?v=i4ilIa0VHrk

www.youtube.com/watch?v=sUkF5eIUPrA

www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxpOT9-iZmw

Find more here and here.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQcE2dq3YD0

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZjEXjiWonN4

www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7eiOsxzjKc

…and then somehow Conway Twitty is singing with The Residents…

www.youtube.com/watch?v=PK5qKhPBnlA

And there’s some amazing Moroccan music, and fucking Sun Ra, then Bob Weir (?!), Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, and Bongwater, all at once. On TV! And then — this is fucked up — when the show is over, the channel I’m watching just gives up and goes off the air. Like, stops broadcasting. They show some old movie of the american flag, play the national anthem and then it was just static.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=nQsR_gZuYCc

How fucked up is that?

www.youtube.com/watch?v=WMKmQmkJ9gg

Last night I had the pleasure of attending a DJ set by the esteemed DJ Krush at the Bowery Ballroom. A few months ago, I got to see him with Method of Defiance, the atmospheric-nerd-core supergroup featuring Bill Laswell, Bernie Worrell, and others. Zorn was there. The crowd was a mite thin for my druthers, but, you know, that’s avant hip-hop for ya.

The more recent experience held many moments of nostalgia. Specifically, I was reminded of those days in the mid-to-late 1990s when hip-hop was creatively suffocated by an industry that preferred glorified tales of violence and the publicizing of bitchy artist in-fighting to producing culturally relevant records. Underground dance parties became prominent as DJs sought venues for experimentation, and huge crowds sought fresh beats and groovy drugs. One fed the other, I suppose. Charged with youth, illicit experiences and perhaps some chemical enhancement, we learned to go all night, and that making a dance floor happen was everyone’s responsibility.

Many of these underground DJs inspired the visceral, psychedelic sounds that informed the best hip-hop of the early oughts. I’m always happy to recall the many wonderful experiences of my former days as a drum-n-bass/jungalist, and am grateful that the underground beats scene has been around to keep progressive sonic collage alive while the big players continue to annoy us with mediocre hype.

Krush himself straddles that grey area between DJ Shadow (he played some tracks from groundbreaking works such as Entroducing and the mysterious Private Press) and Susumu Yakota. There is a tenderness, a dark interior space, like wandering through the forest of the Soul. Krush is noted for his use of both sound samples from the natural world and traditional instruments in free-jazz inspired fills. He creates a spontaneous symphony of scratches, layered drums and rhythm textures that have a distinctly narrative feel. It is the cold, interior world of sorrow without self-absorption, isolation without hopelessness, a landscape of dreams and hauntings, occasionally punctuated by frenetic beats and looming, cracked bass figures.

At the same time, Krush is firmly rooted in the hip-hop tradition. He was instantly inspired to become a musician having seen Wild Style, shortly after which he abandoned his brief fling with the Japanese mafia. The mesmerizing tones of Krush’s soothing and downtempo set gave way to some choice vocal tracks from the Pharcyde, Cypress Hill and others. Over the years, Krush’s work with some of the finest MCs around has gotten many dance floors greasy, and last night’s crowd of sonic-soaked beat nerds were no exception. Essentially, it was an evening to listen, to be moved from the inside out and the perfect scene for a dark January evening.

I look forward to what Krush comes up with next, as his productions are always transportive and engaging. Certainly, I’ll make the effort to see him mix live at any opportunity. I don’t want to understand why the forest is dark and haunted, but I still want to wander through it. So I’m glad that Krush scatters beat-heavy breadcrumbs along that spooky moonlit path. I will leave you with one of my favorite tracks:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=i9ORLo7ntMY

Much Love.

Well, we started out with Fugazi‘s latest/last (?) album, The Argument. You could look at Fugazi’s entire catalog from this album and see in crystalline vision the sum of it’s parts. It’s as though they explained everything. Even now, each time I hear this record I relive the entire span of my deep love of this band, and, like when I first bought it, can listen to it over and over and over again and still feel excited.

Jimi Hendrix‘s sister gained control of his catalog and reissues began to emerge with wonderful rare tracks, heavy vinyl, and lush packaging incorporating handwritten mementos and fabulous photos. Jimi is proof of Intelligent Design.

I collected many copies of Sly and the Family Stone‘s boggling There’s A Riot Goin’ On and Bob Marley‘s simmering Catch A Fire on vinyl etc. This is a sweet sickness. I love revolution records.

El-P offered his incendiary first solo effort, Fantastic Damage. This is one of my top ten records of all time; it always gave me courage and clarity. I went to NYC several times to catch El’s rare performances (despite what he says, he never played in Burlington while I lived there). Visiting this incredible city was a great inspiration for me to move here, which has made me very happy. Eventually I got to hear him play “Tuned Mass Damper” live and again, I felt a huge weight lifted from me.

More memories after the jump…

Mike Patton, another dark genius and vocal gymnast, had a lot going on that I loved. I saw Fantômas open for Tool on their tour for Lateralus, which was just an Awesome Assault.

Outkast‘s Stankonia blew our lives open. Finally: a dirty, filthy, hard-hitting funk record for our generation. They changed the game for everyone.

Mos Def. Love Mos Def. Black On Both Sides, his single with DJ Shadow from The Private Press, his show with Black Jack Johnson at Higher Ground. The hip-hop coming out of California at that time was exciting too, with absolutely grand live shows from Blackalicious and Jurassic 5 and many others from the groovy sun-drenched West Coast.

Had a great time DJing on Free Radio Burlington with Mothertrucker on our Friday night show, “Two Chicks From The Sticks.” Blending Burroughs with all the dark disruptive beats from Anticon and Stone’s Throw and Def Jux, on sentimental nights ending with the Commodores’ “Night Shift,” the bounce, the funk, the gospel, the metal and the Pointer Sisters. The Cancer Conspiracy, Carrigan, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, the Coup, Public Enemy, DJ Spooky, the Dischord box set, Fela Kuti, Harry Belafonte, Odetta, Nina Simone, and the Four Tops. Susumu Yakota, Gong, Motown, Stax, deep blues, that crazy Spiderman record and all that crazy cheap dusty shit we bought in Montreal or rescued from the VPR record fair. But really, I digress.

Indie Rock and IDM were huge and virtually impossible to split into categories. Meanwhile, I was cleaning up the R&B albums in the 45s and the $3 bin at Pure Pop. I was becoming a super nerd, reading a lot of copies of Mojo and listening to Can. I’m not really into irony. So I was really into my head cans, my CD shelves, my record player and it’s accoutrements.

Mia Sladyk convinced me to go see My Morning Jacket one night. I wasn’t going out very much at that time (see above). I had peripherally enjoyed their albums as my friends played them in the coffee shop, thinking it sounded like a nice tribute to Neil Young. But when I got to the show, there was a mix tape playing of Ray Charles and The Staples Singers , and the five hirsute (some barefoot) gentlemen opened with Prince‘s “I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man.” I was shocked to find how well they did it, and how the show became more soulful and exhilerating as the hours surged by. So that’s where my head has been since that fair evening, and in the wake of bearded bands that has followed them. My collection has expanded quite a bit along the lines of folk instrumentation and multi-part vocal harmonies in that context. And the band pairs like a fine wine with the long pined-for Soul Revival we have been experiencing via Daptone, Numero, and the singers and songwriters emerging with new verve. Seeing My Morning Jacket live is the most fun thing to do in the entire world, and their music has been the soundtrack to many indescribable times in my rich life. For an album, I’m going to say Z, though I’m not going to live without a single one of them.

I’m always looking for beats, beats, psychedelic music, insightful lyrics, soaring vocals, harmonies, incredible instrumentation skill, passion, and dance floor burners. I want to tear a hole in the dance floor. And yes, I said beats twice, so you wouldn’t miss it. There have been many mind-blowing albums and artists from the last decade, and certainly further back, that I have missed. I’m excited to become acquainted with all of them, and to see what the kids come up with next. As a wise five-year old once said, “It could be magic, could be nothing.” These last few years have been nothing but magic, so I’m assuming things will keep rolling along in that direction.

All fake bands from TV shows should be required to put out an album and go on tour.

Think about it — it’s a (not so) grand tradition, from Ricky Nelson to the Partridge Family to Hannah Montana. Shit, these days we’ve got a goddamn cartoon metal band on the road.

Yet sadly, there are TV bands that we’ll likely never get to hear or see live. One faux-act that springs immediately to mind is Creation from the terrific but short-lived “Freaks and Geeks.” Now there’s a supergroup: Jason Segel, James Franco and Seth Rogen. I mean, dig this raw talent:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFohA6mKFjc

Of more recent vintage is Crucifictorious, Landry Clarke‘s band from the wonderful but underwatched series “Friday Night Lights.” (I love this show and I hate football.) Sadly, there are no clips of this Christian thrash-turned indie-emo band. But they rule.

Perhaps the greatest fake TV band to never record or hit the road is Zit Remedy, from the original “Degrassi Junior High.” Those wacky Canadian kids wrote one of my favorite ditties of all time, “Everybody Wants Something.” Actually, I think that was their ONLY song. YouTube has the “official” music video. So real. So pure.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_nU2zvWsmMk

So yeah, this is what a stomach bug/head cold looks like. But I do want to know: who in teeveeland would you like to see move from the small screen and into your heart?

That was a couple weeks ago for me. More drawings in the works!