April 23 and April 25, there are two events in Chicago with the N.E.C.:
April 23, Permanent Records
The N.E.C. in-store
5 PM, free
April 25, Beauty Bar
The N.E.C., D.J. Moniker
10 PM, free
This event features psych/rock group N.E.C., part of the rich Atlanta rock scene, and D.J. Moniker, of Moniker Records and Permanent Records. D.J. Moniker will be spinning psych, kraut, punk, and everything in-between, and the N.E.C. will be bringing their driving brand of smart, indulgent psych.
The N.E.C.
Double Phantom
Moniker Records
Permanent Records
Showing posts with label Chicago psychedelic music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago psychedelic music. Show all posts
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Friday, January 29, 2010
Miracle Condition
I was home sick one fateful day, towards the end of 2009, and my credit card and myself embarked on a spiritual journey. After hearing from my close friend / bandmate / spiritual adviser that Chicago rockers U.S. Maple purportedly met at Grand and Western (merely blocks away from our own rehearsal space), I decided that I needed to introduce my eardrums to our chronologically-distant-yet-geographically-near forefather of Chicago rock.
After hours of Amazon searching, weeks of lost packages, and one fateful encounter at Permanent Records, I had 4/5 of the U.S. Maple catalog in my possession (I suppose it'd sound much cooler if I landed an amazing mint copy of their out of print sophomore release from someone who didn't know what they were selling, but unfortunately, everyone knows what they are selling). Each listen destroyed my comfortable disposition towards punk, the relationship between punk and songwriting convention, and challenged my pop sensibilities -- rather, my experimental pop sensibilities.
If you read some online biographies of the band, the term everyone seems to throw around is, U.S. Maple "deconstructed" rock'n'roll. I don't think people know just how significant that phrase is, or, how apt a description it provides for U.S. Maple's music. A deconstruction, in so many words, suggests that someone tears down some convention, dismantling it piece-by-piece, and then placing new elements in the place of those old conventions that somehow create something that looks vaguely familiar, yet challenges the old guard in a very meaningful or important way. (I suppose "meaningful" isn't the best word there, because of course a deconstruction makes some statement about meaning, given that one often sets out to challenge the course of meaning, or challenge an interpretation of meaning when one deconstructs a cultural phenomenon, which in itself is a theory of meaning or statement of meaning. Even a negation or nihilism require some semblance or structure of meaning to foil. But I definitely mean important).
From every direction. The assaults converged on my senses one after another, some in completely surprising ways, others in ways that I expected but found shocking, nonetheless. I wondered what I had been doing in the 1990s; I'll never be one of those aging hipster Lit teachers that is able to brag to his class that he owned first pressings of each of the U.S. Maple records when he was an enterprising teenager. I had only gone as far as the KIDS Soundtrack by age 15, and was fully submerged in the atmospheres of Slint and the blissfully melodramatic world of Lou Barlow. But, somehow, that didn't seem important anymore; I catch the bus at Grand and Western, in different directions on different days, but invariably from the same place; after I blast my ears with my bandmates or pedal-stomping solitaire, I buy myself beer from that seemingly nameless liquor store.
Somehow I feel that the world of U.S. Maple is my own, 15 years later.
This contexts makes the release by Miracle Condition that much more meaningful to my ears, as I have traveled 15 years in the matter of months, gained immeasurable insight on crossing the terrain of the Western Express or the pop song structure, or the lead guitar line, or the true definition of "percussive guitar approach." I understand more about how vocals can be used, how far drums can move in outlining patterns and mapping a song, as well as the radical clean guitar tone.
Each of these elements are advanced in Miracle Condition, not as a continuation of U.S. Maple, not as a clone, or a dismissal, or an interpretation of U.S. Maple, but as something strangely familiar that is nevertheless constructed out of different, new elements. Through time the band traveled, perhaps away from that fateful geographical locale, and it shouldn't be surprising that the sounds of Miracle Condition offer more space, more breathing, more reflection.
With the old catalog fresh in mind, it reminds me of the feeling of recalling an aged memory through the guise of a completely different disposition in life, recalling a memory from a completely different situation, reliving an experience in a completely different position. Finding an intersection on the map in the context of the entire city, and experiencing the immediate and limited view from the ground; meaning is bounded by both, perspective guides the senses in different directions in each situation.
Really, Miracle Condition preempted me. I was planning to write a retrospective on Long Hair in Three Stages, asking one of those grand questions, such as, "Has Independent Music Progressed Since U.S. Maple?" Instead, I get to write about Miracle Condition, and now I am thrilled that I do not need to simply purchase their back catalog and explore their old geographical locale; this time, I get to be right there with them.
After hours of Amazon searching, weeks of lost packages, and one fateful encounter at Permanent Records, I had 4/5 of the U.S. Maple catalog in my possession (I suppose it'd sound much cooler if I landed an amazing mint copy of their out of print sophomore release from someone who didn't know what they were selling, but unfortunately, everyone knows what they are selling). Each listen destroyed my comfortable disposition towards punk, the relationship between punk and songwriting convention, and challenged my pop sensibilities -- rather, my experimental pop sensibilities.
If you read some online biographies of the band, the term everyone seems to throw around is, U.S. Maple "deconstructed" rock'n'roll. I don't think people know just how significant that phrase is, or, how apt a description it provides for U.S. Maple's music. A deconstruction, in so many words, suggests that someone tears down some convention, dismantling it piece-by-piece, and then placing new elements in the place of those old conventions that somehow create something that looks vaguely familiar, yet challenges the old guard in a very meaningful or important way. (I suppose "meaningful" isn't the best word there, because of course a deconstruction makes some statement about meaning, given that one often sets out to challenge the course of meaning, or challenge an interpretation of meaning when one deconstructs a cultural phenomenon, which in itself is a theory of meaning or statement of meaning. Even a negation or nihilism require some semblance or structure of meaning to foil. But I definitely mean important).
From every direction. The assaults converged on my senses one after another, some in completely surprising ways, others in ways that I expected but found shocking, nonetheless. I wondered what I had been doing in the 1990s; I'll never be one of those aging hipster Lit teachers that is able to brag to his class that he owned first pressings of each of the U.S. Maple records when he was an enterprising teenager. I had only gone as far as the KIDS Soundtrack by age 15, and was fully submerged in the atmospheres of Slint and the blissfully melodramatic world of Lou Barlow. But, somehow, that didn't seem important anymore; I catch the bus at Grand and Western, in different directions on different days, but invariably from the same place; after I blast my ears with my bandmates or pedal-stomping solitaire, I buy myself beer from that seemingly nameless liquor store.
Somehow I feel that the world of U.S. Maple is my own, 15 years later.
This contexts makes the release by Miracle Condition that much more meaningful to my ears, as I have traveled 15 years in the matter of months, gained immeasurable insight on crossing the terrain of the Western Express or the pop song structure, or the lead guitar line, or the true definition of "percussive guitar approach." I understand more about how vocals can be used, how far drums can move in outlining patterns and mapping a song, as well as the radical clean guitar tone.
Each of these elements are advanced in Miracle Condition, not as a continuation of U.S. Maple, not as a clone, or a dismissal, or an interpretation of U.S. Maple, but as something strangely familiar that is nevertheless constructed out of different, new elements. Through time the band traveled, perhaps away from that fateful geographical locale, and it shouldn't be surprising that the sounds of Miracle Condition offer more space, more breathing, more reflection.
With the old catalog fresh in mind, it reminds me of the feeling of recalling an aged memory through the guise of a completely different disposition in life, recalling a memory from a completely different situation, reliving an experience in a completely different position. Finding an intersection on the map in the context of the entire city, and experiencing the immediate and limited view from the ground; meaning is bounded by both, perspective guides the senses in different directions in each situation.
Really, Miracle Condition preempted me. I was planning to write a retrospective on Long Hair in Three Stages, asking one of those grand questions, such as, "Has Independent Music Progressed Since U.S. Maple?" Instead, I get to write about Miracle Condition, and now I am thrilled that I do not need to simply purchase their back catalog and explore their old geographical locale; this time, I get to be right there with them.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Vee Dee
After reading about local psychedelic punk band Vee Dee, it all seemed too good to be true, and so I waltzed out and found a copy of their Public Mental Health System. On first listen, the record proved to be more abrasive than I expected, but featured strong nasal guitar tones and extreme wah and phaser work to shade the guitar. The band's extended jams provide ample reinterpretations of classic rock guitar mainstays, with a driving rhythm section leading the front-and-center guitar sound.
Frankly, the band probably picked one of the best album titles of 2009, and anyone who rides the Red Line late at night probably instantly understands this recording aesthetic and title. Claustrophobic, wailing, and straddling the boundaries between genres while simply moving forward at a blistering pace.
Frankly, the band probably picked one of the best album titles of 2009, and anyone who rides the Red Line late at night probably instantly understands this recording aesthetic and title. Claustrophobic, wailing, and straddling the boundaries between genres while simply moving forward at a blistering pace.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
The Intelligence
In The Red Records had an excellent 2009. Between the crazed debut LP of Austin R&Bers The Strange Boys, the fuzzy pop of the Vivian Girls, and the crisp soul of Reigning Sound, among what seems to be a boatload of other releases, the label proved to be both eclectic and deep with its 2009 releases. Resulting from this gamut of releases is a fine definition of the sonic range and possibility of lo-fi music, an approach to rock that falls into and out of favor with my ears as frequently as the sun rises and sets. Mostly, I find that lo-fi pop music continually challenges my artistic sensibilities, in the sense that it straddles high-art structure with low-art spirit.
Until last week, when my close friend lent me his copy of The Intelligence, those three In The Red releases I listed were my favorites. Little did I know that I would find a perfect summary of the entire set of 2009 In The red releases with the Fake Surfers release by The Intellgience. ITR 169 clamors along with pristine pop songs baked in uneven sound production, resulting in a delightful interplay between instruments that frequently drop in and out, surrounded by lyrics that are funny, absurd, or just plain eye-opening through their vocal delivery.
Throughout this release, the band combines the high art sensibility of the most crisp, short pop structures that anyone could ask for, with the darkest, zaniest, off-kilter production that one could desire. I find this clash, in my mind, in my ears, and in my emotional response, to be challenging and artistically fruitful.
Until last week, when my close friend lent me his copy of The Intelligence, those three In The Red releases I listed were my favorites. Little did I know that I would find a perfect summary of the entire set of 2009 In The red releases with the Fake Surfers release by The Intellgience. ITR 169 clamors along with pristine pop songs baked in uneven sound production, resulting in a delightful interplay between instruments that frequently drop in and out, surrounded by lyrics that are funny, absurd, or just plain eye-opening through their vocal delivery.
Throughout this release, the band combines the high art sensibility of the most crisp, short pop structures that anyone could ask for, with the darkest, zaniest, off-kilter production that one could desire. I find this clash, in my mind, in my ears, and in my emotional response, to be challenging and artistically fruitful.
Friday, December 18, 2009
IMPLODES
Haunting guitar drones, volume swells, and distortion washes bleed between dense songs. Listen at 6:45 am when the sun refuses to rise until 7:15; shreds of existing light sneak through your curtain, preparing you for dawn aside intense, endless drones. Distinct layers of fuzz provide texture for the release, although the effects aren't so overwhelming that you drown. Rather, it is the sound itself, and the sequencing of the songs, the perception of never-ending soundscapes that will hold you hostage. The imprint of this release remains well after the cassette stops.
Highly recommended. Currently available at all Reckless Records stores; if your favorite Reckless store doesn't have it, Permanent Records should. Plustapes, second pressing (100).
Highly recommended. Currently available at all Reckless Records stores; if your favorite Reckless store doesn't have it, Permanent Records should. Plustapes, second pressing (100).
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
a scene.
In what does a scene consist? From the outside, a scene appears to squash musical and creative freedom in the name of a group aesthetic, whereas within a scene the benefit of sharing a musical vision others is the resulting exchange in ideas. I often go back and forth about whether or not there is a scene in Chicago, or if there are many scenes, or if there are simply numerous aggregates of creative individuals floating about, surfacing with their resulting musical product. Aggregates lend themselves to some of the appearances of scenes without the cohesive connection of a scene.
Perhaps the debate is between the development of freedom in music, or the development of expression in music. How do we, as musicians, balance the necessity of internal, interconnected developments of aesthetic ideals in order to achieve the desired freedom of creation against the desire to manifest creative freedom in the form of a complete break? I don't think one development can occur without the other; as in political development, freedom is neither freedom from external constraint nor freedom as the development of a capacity or a capability; the positive, structured development of capacities or capabilities is necessary to attain a meaningful freedom from external constraint.
The development of a scene is focused around the constraints of resources -- who is playing, where they are playing, what stores stock their music, etc. -- as well as with calculated breaks from shared ideals and shared developments that previously advanced musical production in that particular group.
One of the tensions at the core of the psychedelic and noise music that we will be writing about here is the psychological, physical, and emotional tension between the need to express creativity or creation in the form of breaks from reality as we find it, in the desire to seek, outline, and attain novelty (or at the very least the novelty found in the attainment of a particular emotional performance); and, on the other hand, the need to fully develop ideals and performances in the midst of critically evaluative, supportive peers, venues, stores, etc.
Within this tension rests the demand of authentic emotional representation in music, or intense emotional evaluation in music. As in surrealist painting with the method of automatism, it is often psychological exploration on the part of the artist that stands the test of critical communities, drives the desire towards pure creation and novelty, and withstands the breakdown of scenes when they reach their inevitable conclusion.
A scene, in this sense, fosters a particular sort of psychological authenticity, where performances can be gauged not merely on their adherence to the norms or standards of a group of bands, fans, critics, etc., but also on the emotional and intellectual terrain of the performance itself. This tension is at the base of musical criticism, because at its core, the critic must sort between the environment, the groups, the historical context, the individual desires to create, and -- perhaps most importantly -- the psychological context and substance of the performance itself.
Perhaps this is what we seek in the justification for good art, without hard and fast boundaries for true judgment of art; where questions of group motivation, commercial viability, community, etc., will forever simultaneously challenge and foster artistic development, it is the very development of the artist, and specifically the journey of the artist in search of the realization or expression of their vision, that will stand beneath the scene as the critic peels away layers and layers of plot and subtext.
Perhaps the debate is between the development of freedom in music, or the development of expression in music. How do we, as musicians, balance the necessity of internal, interconnected developments of aesthetic ideals in order to achieve the desired freedom of creation against the desire to manifest creative freedom in the form of a complete break? I don't think one development can occur without the other; as in political development, freedom is neither freedom from external constraint nor freedom as the development of a capacity or a capability; the positive, structured development of capacities or capabilities is necessary to attain a meaningful freedom from external constraint.
The development of a scene is focused around the constraints of resources -- who is playing, where they are playing, what stores stock their music, etc. -- as well as with calculated breaks from shared ideals and shared developments that previously advanced musical production in that particular group.
One of the tensions at the core of the psychedelic and noise music that we will be writing about here is the psychological, physical, and emotional tension between the need to express creativity or creation in the form of breaks from reality as we find it, in the desire to seek, outline, and attain novelty (or at the very least the novelty found in the attainment of a particular emotional performance); and, on the other hand, the need to fully develop ideals and performances in the midst of critically evaluative, supportive peers, venues, stores, etc.
Within this tension rests the demand of authentic emotional representation in music, or intense emotional evaluation in music. As in surrealist painting with the method of automatism, it is often psychological exploration on the part of the artist that stands the test of critical communities, drives the desire towards pure creation and novelty, and withstands the breakdown of scenes when they reach their inevitable conclusion.
A scene, in this sense, fosters a particular sort of psychological authenticity, where performances can be gauged not merely on their adherence to the norms or standards of a group of bands, fans, critics, etc., but also on the emotional and intellectual terrain of the performance itself. This tension is at the base of musical criticism, because at its core, the critic must sort between the environment, the groups, the historical context, the individual desires to create, and -- perhaps most importantly -- the psychological context and substance of the performance itself.
Perhaps this is what we seek in the justification for good art, without hard and fast boundaries for true judgment of art; where questions of group motivation, commercial viability, community, etc., will forever simultaneously challenge and foster artistic development, it is the very development of the artist, and specifically the journey of the artist in search of the realization or expression of their vision, that will stand beneath the scene as the critic peels away layers and layers of plot and subtext.
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