Arkells Rally Cry Pop Up - 1. Always awesome to see this band. This time to celebrate the release of the their new kick ass album, Rally Cry. Amazing work, guys!! @arkellsmusic 2. The coolest lady in the business, the woman who makes it all happen and always has smile. Ashley, thank you!! You are amazing @ashleypoitevin 3. My best pose with the Rally Cry mural. 4. My freshly made Rally Cry t-shirt, thanks @jessbaumung for the sweet photo. 5. My signed Arkells Rally Cry LP. Fun fact: I don't have a record player, perfect excuse to get one?? 😆 #ArkellsRallyCry#unionstation#meetandgreet#awesome#rockband
Mercoledi' 31 Ottobre
Arriva al @caveauclubalba
STREET POP MUSIC PARTY
Prendiamo le canzoni e le facciamo nostre. Con le canzoni sogniamo e anche se quei sogni non si avvereranno mai, la musica rimarrà lì a ricordarci che abbiamo comunque avuto il coraggio di provarci. Noi parliamo con la musica.
Chipster vi accompagnerà in un viaggio dai suoni rock della fine degli anni 90 fino all’indie dei giorni nostri: dai Linkin Park ai The Killers, dai Nirvana ai Clash, dai Subsonica ai Planet Funk, da Calcutta a Carl Brave, da COSMO ai Thegiornalisti, dai Daft Punk fino ai Soulwax passando per Fatboy Slim.
Un party dalla carica esplosiva che vi farà ballare e cantare a squarciagola per tutta la notte!
Ingresso 8e con drink
Ora non hai piu' scuse per dire...non ci sono piu' le serate di una volta con la musica figa che mettevano ai Murazzi, al Macabre, a Rivalta, al Gothic a Novello eccc!
PRIOR THE END sagt DANKE!
2018 ist nun für uns vorbei und wir blicken auf ein intensives und aktives Jahr zurück...Unsere Jubiläums-Tour zu unserem 5. Geburtstag hatte viele besondere Erfahrungen für uns in petto: Wir lernten uns in Germering wieder wie Kinder zu fühlen, konnten beim Münchener Coreneval unsere modischen Neigungen ausleben, durften in Landshut eine altehrwürdige Villa auseinander nehmen, pflügten uns mit eisernen Willen durch die Gletscher von Neusäß, erfuhren in Nürnberg über die Vorzüge einer gewissen Luise, wurden in Garching erneut zum humanoiden Grillfleisch, feierten in Pfaffenhofen unsere geliebte versunkene Stadt, verloren in einer Deggendorfer Bank die Orientierung, bekamen den Beweis das Ebersberg Metal besser beherrscht als Hinterhof-Feng-Shui, wurden in unserem Heimatort zu Schirmherren ernannt, durften in Augsburg eine Fabrik beschallen, schwitzten in Regensburg unter tausenden Studenten, machten dem Namen des Münchener Garnix Festivals alle Ehre, waren in Riem wortkarg aber dennoch als nächtliche Ruhestörung klassifizierbar, legten uns mit dem Neumarkter Disco-Milieu an, lernten uns beim Meet'n'Greet in Ingolstadt selbst besser kennen und begehrten kurz vor der Wahl zusammen mit einer Punk-Kommune auf . . . . . . . . Was ein Jahr! Danke an alle Freunde, Familien, Helfer, Untersützer, Gönner, Weggefährten und Mitstreiter! Ihr seid und bleibt die größten! Auf zu neuen Ufern! See you in 2019!
PTE Over and Out
Our next show is Sunday, 11/4 at @reggieslive for the Fallout Music Festival presented by @gtspresents - all ages, $10 advance tickets available here: https://www.eventbee.com/v/growthescene/event?eid=101970634
A year ago, we stepped into @chaletrecordingstudio for the first time to bring you the Catch Me If You Can EP... well, we’ve done it again and we couldn’t be more stoked to share some new tunes with you! Awesome weekend with @mustinjeli @jordogauthier and @kevincomeau_cl ... get ready for change 🤘💀🤘 📷: @marlesb_photos
Whereas last year's MASSEDUCTION was an a Friday night out - all-encompassing, all-consuming, and all-arousing. MassEducation, however, is the complete opposite – despite being constructed of exactly the same songs. Annie Clark. MassEducation is an evening drive, a neon-light in the darkness, a cocktail bar on a Wednesday. It’s the aloof, debonair younger sibling to its bloody-minded, red-blooded sister. MassEducation smokes outside. It prefers white wine to red. It’s an antidote to modernity where the original adhered to all of the rules of ‘now’. There’s no confusion: MassEducation is pure, emphatic. Clark strips all of the excess from MASSEDUCTION – the Fripp-ian guitar skronks, the digital sheen – and bestows upon the new versions her own, sincere power.
Let’s talk about the new versions. “Los Ageless” is the standout on both records. On this record, it’s a dainty, soulful piano ballad that doesn’t mess with that brain-tickling hook. By resisting the urge to change it completely, Clark shows that her creative instincts have remained just as sharp despite the fact that she’s spent the last year touring the hell out of these songs.
The “Savior” here is, surprisingly, sexier than the original. It starts slowly, longing and aching, before building to an incredibly intense crescendo. “Pills” takes on a frazzled, deranged angle that makes you think of the earlier St. Vincent material – specifically the drugged-up Disney of Actor.
On the cover of this new version, we see Clark with her back to the camera, seemingly naked: Look a bit deeper and it’s more than that. It’s actually her this time: the legs and ass on the cover of MASSEDUCTION belonged to her friend. This is Annie telling us that this version is closer to the real her, but she’s still keeping something back. She’s nude, but covered. The photo is revealing, but not necessarily erotic. It’s a magnificent cover to a magnificent record.
MassEducation hangs together better than its predecessor. It’s precise where MASSEDUCTION was deliciously sloppy. However, they’re both as near to perfect as a pop record is going to get these days – incredibly perceptive, with clever lyrics sitting on beautiful melodies.
MASSEDUCTION's opening track “Hang on Me” presents Annie Clark as the restless consumer on a come down, a prologue to the excesses of thought and sex and substance that populate the record. Her voice is uncharacteristically cracked but still hopeful, begging for someone to cling to while everything crashes around her.
Her fifth record, MASSEDUCTION is maximalist by definition: Lyrically, aesthetically – the all-caps, the clashing red and pink and leopard of its cover art – and musically; with Clark’s virtuosic guitar playing crashing into layer upon layer of synths and programmed beats. Every song contains sounds or ideas for ten others, as though the record might suddenly burst and multiply like spiders running from a nest. There is a complete sense of Clark at the centre: and she knows from experience that loneliness lives at the core of excess.
“Los Ageless” is a near-future fable of eternal youth, its accompanying video a pastel-coloured plastic surgery nightmare. Nestled between the depictions of cage-dancing girls and endless artificial summer is the repeated refrain, “How could anybody have you and lose you and not lose their minds too?”, an explanation or an excuse: People don’t just destroy themselves – or let others destroy them – for nothing, you know. As the song fades out, her usually assured voice laments, “I tried to write you a love song,” a kind of epilogue or correction.
Gender and sexuality are presented as experimental, unfixed: On “Sugarboy”, Clark proclaims, “BOYS! I am a lot like you / GIRLS! I am a lot like you,” an update of Prince’s promise that “I’m not a woman / I’m not a man / I am something that you’ll never comprehend.” The title track’s refrain of “I can’t turn off what turns me on,” is Clark embracing the unhinged elements of her sexuality, as one who has shed all the urges of adolescence, and whose control stems from her acting like a man. Instead, Clark prizes adolescent urges as part of her spectrum of sexual experience, wrestling back uninhibited, self-serving female pleasure.
MASSEDUCTION defies explanation and critique, rendering the critic a dead weight in the dust of its ever-accelerating sucker-punch of ideas.
Listen to Love Is Magic, John Grant’s fourth solo record released exactly three years after the last, and you experience his customary level of brutal honesty, irresistible vulnerability and wit – but with the electronics dialled way up.
The sound is razor sharp: deep, rib-shaking synths and tingling sequencers mix with punchy percussion and feather-like melodies. And, as you’d expect, the words don’t take a back seat in this ‘80s-inspired soundscape; it wouldn’t be a John Grant record without his signature storytelling.
Little can prepare you for the sonic assault of the first minute of opening track “Metamorphosis." Arcade game meets rap meets ring master showmanship, it’s a surreal and disturbing list of phrases and questions – “earthquakes, forest fires, hot Brazilian boys” and “Who created Isis?” – all delivered in various straight and novelty versions of Grant’s speaking voice. Within seconds, this morphs into a sultry, reflective dream ballad about not having properly mourned the death of a loved one – and then back again. You’re disorientated and intrigued. You’ve been warned.
His humour is evident even in the track listings: “Preppy Boy” precedes “Smug Cunt”. The former is a digital disco come-on, complete with seductive funk twang with winks and nudges a-plenty; the chorus begs, "Come on now, pretty boy/ If you’ve got an opening, I am unemployed". The latter is darker – even though it starts off scathingly describing the subject’s obsession with their own chest hair, it turns into a question of control and entitlement: “You don’t want things you cannot own."
Towards the end of the album, slower and softer songs “Is He Strange” and “The Common Snipe” sit still and powerful next to the beats and bleeps of neighbouring songs. If Grant’s talking to his younger self in “Is He Strange”, it’s with palpable warmth, openness, and a degree of comfort with who he is now.
Somehow stories that are deeply personal and unique to Grant become relatable life lessons. The specificity of the lyrics and the boldness of the electronic orchestration should preclude this – but Grant lets the emotions that drive them show through enough that you can’t help but connect.
The first sound you hear on Prince’s Piano & a Microphone 1983 is the singer’s speaking voice—a low, surprisingly sonorous deadpan. Prince employed a panoply of different vocal stylings across his officially released oeuvre, many of which are also represented here: the mellifluous croon of opener “17 Days,” the gravel-voiced pimp rap of “Cold Coffee & Cocaine,” the gospel scream of “Mary Don’t You Weep.” But he rarely used his natural speaking voice in his music.
The intimacy is most striking thing about this slim but reverently presented recording of Prince at the piano just a few months before work began on his 1984 album and film Purple Rain. Recorded live in the artist’s home studio, the 34-minute rehearsal is preserved in its entirety, interrupted only by the engineer flipping over the tape. The songs here are improvised, and seemingly not intended for public consumption.
The first half of Piano & a Microphone 1983 unfolds as a kind of stream-of-consciousness medley: Prince is barely a minute into “Purple Rain” before he drifts into the next song, a sublime but equally fragmentary cover of Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You.” Even the album’s more fleshed-out tracks—such as “Mary Don’t You Weep,” feel less like finished pieces than fleeting glimpses into Prince’s creative process. Elsewhere, the more familiar songs are mere sketches of their studio versions: The effervescent “17 Days” is performed as a bluesy vamp, while the syrupy “International Lover” is halting and exploratory.
The album’s three previously unreleased songs are also of note, even if they’re just rough drafts. “Wednesday,” intended at one point for protégée Jill Jones to sing in Purple Rain, is pretty but oddly stilted, pitched somewhere between a Joni Mitchell homage and a showtune, with a jarring line about contemplating suicide. The closest thing here to a buried treasure is closing track “Why the Butterflies,” an anguished tone poem on the maternal themes of “When Doves Cry.” Prince’s performance of the few, half-enunciated lines is spellbinding, his fragile falsetto slowly finding the melody, almost as he were feeling his way through a darkened room.
Lost & Found is a bold statement of confidence which finds its strength in her raw vulnerability. @jorjasmith_ carefully nagivates the listeners through tales of hearbreak, resilience, and regrets.
Jorja Smith wears her influences on her sleeve. Smith's adoration of Amy Winehouse comes through on her vocal deliveries, which exude elements of Sade, and Jill Scott.
The highlights on Lost & Found are abundant: "Tomorrow" showcases her masterful use of her upper register. "February 3rd" she muses over "constantly finding myself." "Teenage Fantasy" is one of the few songs to make the leap from her EP to studio album. The song merited inclusion as its smokey instrumentation and catchy chorus make it an instant favorite. Smith brings the record to a close with "Don't Watch Me Cry" as she mourns not for the end, but what could've been.
Smith's assured storytelling, talent for melodic invention, and classically tained vocals, Lost & Found serves a bold introduction. The album is a promising foundation for an artist who will surely continue to engages us for years to come.