Sunday, July 26, 2015

The Octopus Project / Golden Dawn Arkestra - Live 2015.07.24

Artists: The Octopus Project and Golden Dawn Arkestra
Event: Music Under the Star
Venue: Lone Star Plaza, Bob Bullock State History Museum
Location: Austin, Texas
Date: 24 July 2015

Music Under the Star is an event put on by the Bob Bullock State History Museum in which they sponsor local bands to play free early evening shows in the shade of the museum. The "star" in question is a literal monumental star (i.e. "Lone Star") in the adjoining plaza. It might sound ridiculous, but it actually works well. People can bring chairs and they sell drinks and food. This summer's edition was cosponsored by Transmission Events and Fun Fun Fun Fest, which celebrates its tenth anniversary this year. This was the final night of this partnership.

Golden Dawn Arkestra came out first, although they actually emerged from the museum and wound their way around the crowd before finally marching up to the stage. Much like when I saw them at SXSW earlier this year, they were all dressed up in various cosmic outfits. While there was no dancing among the audience this time, there was plenty of dancing on stage, as well as much praising of Ra, and a hell of a lot of funk.

[Golden Dawn Arkestra.]

The Arkestra has a lot of members, which might seem like a gimmick, but when the sound is as good as it was, all the instruments were discernible: two guitarists, bass, two horns players, a keyboardist/vocalist/saxophonist, three percussionists, a xylophonist/keyboardist/vocalist, and four dancers. (To be fair, while the dancers were not audible, they were quite visible. Even the somewhat elderly guy that just grooved in place for the entire hour.) All combined, it makes for quite a spectacle and quite a jam. It's really hard not to want to get up and move to this music. It's fascinating and wonderful.

Their grooves would go on for a while and I'd get lost in them, and after what seemed like a long time passed, they'd pause for a moment and I'd fear they were done. But then they'd just go right into another really funky riff and keep going. Their energy never let down. They'd say a few words, mostly about peace and Ra and something cosmic, and then just carry right on. Actually, most of their songs were instrumental, and those with words were not always easy to understand, but I heard plenty of the same themes. And somehow that xylophone took the lead in half the songs!

[Note the bubbles being blown into the air at the end of their set.]

The Arkestra ended up being a great match for The Octopus Project, as they too are a primarily instrumental outfit. However, their approach is less of an ensemble funk style and more of a dancey, high-energy synthpop direction. Their four members were all multi-instrumentalists and constantly traded their tools between (or during) songs. The man that started at the drumkit stayed their for half the show, but even he came out and played guitar and bass for most of the rest of the set, and near the end even contributed vocals.

[The Octopus Project. Note the theremin!]

I'd seen The Octopus Project last year at Austin Psych Fest, but I thought they were a little different this time around. This was partly due to a more cohesive sound and energy (last time they seemed to have two divergent approaches, i.e. noisy rock and more direct synthpop) but perhaps also due to the replacement of Ryan Figg with Lauren Gurgiolo earlier this year. At any rate, I thought they did an even better job bringing together guitars and synthesizers in the name of electropop.

When the various band members did sing, I again couldn't understand a word, but at least the music was good enough to keep me interested at all times. Sometimes words aren't necessary, anyway. It's still quite a thrill to see a band convincingly wield a theremin on stage, and the rest was rather good, too.

[Yvonne Lambert let the audience control the theremin before leaving the stage.]

This ended up being a really fun show with two great local bands. It was amusing to see the intermingling of young and old, where students, parents with kids, and the aging rockers and hippies can come together to enjoy the evening. When they get bands of this quality playing without cover, I'm surprised it wasn't even busier. I'm also fond of the earlier set times, as I too cannot always manage to stay up as late as one often must for concerts.

I kind of wish I'd gone to the previous weeks of the Fun Fun Fun Fest collaboration, as its hard to beat free shows with good bands at accessible times. Why aren't there more shows like this in the early evening, whether in public spaces or not? It seems like a great formula.

Scores:
Golden Dawn Arkestra: A
The Octopus Project: B+

Sunday, July 5, 2015

David J - Who Killed Mister Moonlight? (2014)

Title: Who Killed Mister Moonlight? Bauhaus, Black Magick and Benediction
Author: David J. Haskins
Publisher: Jawbone Press
Year: 2014


I have what feels like a long history as a fan of David J, which can perhaps be ascertained by perusing some of my reviews of his work dating back to 2007. He was always my favorite member of both Bauhaus and Love & Rockets, and his solo albums, while quite unlike his band efforts, drew me in like I had found some sort of private, forgotten treasure. I appreciated his artistic sensibility and aesthetic; I liked that he was a weirdo, a contrarian, an outsider; and I prized his ability to rock, be it with a blissfully fuzzed out bass or with an unaccompanied electric guitar.

But over the last few years, I've begun to wonder if the paths of our interests have diverged. Reconsidering his debut solo album, Etiquette of Violence, upon its reissue in 2013, I couldn't help but feel like it was less refined than I'd remembered. His first solo album in eight years, Not Long for This World (2011), I found to be overburdened by the weight of its morbid subject matter and arrangements. His latest album, An Eclipse of Ships, is musically superior, but lyrically and stylistically a turn for the worse.

When J announced the publication of a memoir, my curiosity was naturally piqued, although I couldn't resist some skepticism, especially with the current trendiness of alternative rock star memoirs. Furthermore, after both of J's major bands reformed in the last decade, it is well known that both split apart (again) under terms that were less than amicable. Hence, I was concerned that J just had an axe to grind.

In the first section of the book, which covers his youth and the original lifespan of Bauhaus, my fears were allayed. Rock star cliché is mostly avoided, and J actually speaks quite highly of his bandmates as well as other musicians, writers, artists, engineers, and music businesspeople that he encounters. He doesn't shy away from speaking ill of those that deserve it, or for criticizing the failures of those of whom he perhaps expected more, but more often than not, the target of such remarks is himself. He might be a little hard on Peter Murphy, but he contextualizes the situation well, and provides just as much approbation as critique.

At any rate, these character judgments are merely secondary matters to the primary story of the struggles Bauhaus went through to prove themselves, to grow and develop, and to carve out a scene and a name for themselves. He tells many great stories of the era, and provides some welcome insight into some of the band's creative processes. This section was just what I was hoping for: very little obnoxious melodrama, but lots of detail about specific songs, recording sessions, and live performances.

The second section of the book is a rather sudden departure in style and content. J hardly mentions his immediate post-Bauhaus activity with the Jazz Butcher or his various solo albums and singles. (Much of his output isn't even mentioned at all until the discographic appendix!) Nor does he leave much ink on his many years with Love & Rockets, although he does at least cover a few aspects of that band, such as the fire at Rick Rubin's house that destroyed their gear and left Genesis P-Orridge badly wounded.

The primary preoccupation in this section is the occult, i.e. the pursuits of magick (sic). Perhaps if I was interested in such things myself, I might find these descriptions more fascinating, but I was not impressed by J's long tales of messing around with drugs and incantations with Alan Moore. His visit with William Burroughs in Lawrence, Kansas is a little more compelling, but most of his meetings with mystics and famed figures of yore seem a little bit too much like oversharing or just self-indulgent name-dropping. His story of meeting and recording with René Halkett (from the first section of the book) is fascinating, but few of his other similar stories have much of the same poignancy or relevance.

Ultimately, after all his adventures in magickal practice, he suddenly shifts to living in LA, estranged from his wife of 20-some years, and somewhat arbitrarily undergoing two spiritual transformations. However, he hardly provides any sense of closure in these matters. He never follows up with how he gave up on magick nor where his newfound spiritualism took him. In fact, these matters are entirely untouched in the last section of the book.

There is one chapter in the second section about the Bauhaus reunion tour of 1998, and the third and final section is dedicated entirely to the Bauhaus reunion of 2005-2006. However, all of the technical detail, honesty, and pleasant reminiscence of the first section is replaced here by accusation, disappointment, and bitterness. He paints Ash and Murphy in rather unflattering lights and unashamedly blames them for poor performances, a basically unfinished final album, the loss of a promising record contract for said album, and ultimately breaking apart. (He also blames "rampant illegal downloading" for the album's poor sales, which is never a good look.)

While some of the latter-day Bauhaus stories are interesting, and he occasionally has something worthwhile to say about his bandmates (or anything at all about his underappreciated drummer brother Kevin), the last section feels like a set of second-hand rock-n-roll clichés that I was hoping to avoid. Drugs, sex, and ego don't actually always make for a good story. Whereas the first part of the book found J admitting his own weaknesses and admiring the strengths of others, by the end, he seems nearly faultless, while his bandmates make all the bad decisions. It doesn't help that the title of the book, while of course the name of a song he wrote and sang with Bauhaus, also appears to be a blatantly pointed finger at Murphy and Ash.

I can't help but feel like the book lost its focus. The first section is great, but the rest is mostly off the mark. I'm disappointed that J ended up using his memoir as an excuse to vent his grievances of his former working partners at the expense of telling more worthwhile stories of his career. I also found the end rather abrupt, and since it cuts off in mid-2006 yet wasn't published until 2014, one is left wondering what happened to the intervening time. Was there nothing worth telling about the Love & Rockets reunion that came together right as the Bauhaus reunion fell apart? Where did his spiritual quest take him? Why does it feel like the book was written in the heat of anger after the Bauhaus reunion, and he couldn't get a publisher until now?

Score: C+

Monday, June 15, 2015

Other Lives / Riothorse Royale / Dark Rooms - Live 2015.06.11

I first caught wind of Other Lives when I saw them open for Radiohead in 2012. They were one of the best opening acts I've ever seen, and when I bought their then-latest album Tamer Animals, I was not disappointed. Somehow I'd missed that they just put out a new album in May of this year, but I did at least hear about this show.

Artist: Other Lives
Venue: Mohawk
Location: Austin, Texas
Date: 11 June 2015
Opening Acts: Riothorse Royale, Dark Rooms

Setlist:
01. Reconfiguration
02. Easy Way Out
03. As I Lay My Head Down
04. Landforms →
05. Desert
06. 2 Pyramids
07. Pattern
08. For 12
09. Tamer Animals
10. English Summer
11. Dark Horse
12. Weather
13. For the Last

Encore:
14. Black Tables (performed as a duo)
15. Great Sky (?)
16. Dust Bowl III

The first band of the night was Dark Rooms from Dallas, the latest project of guitarist/violinist/vocalist Daniel Hart. His instrumentation and occasional looping (as well as appearance) might give rise to comparisons to Andrew Bird, but the comparison doesn't really hold up past that. In place of Bird's folk and classicism was a darker, denser, percussive style. With the help of a guitarist, a drummer, and a keyboardist/percussionist, they generated a very full and nuanced sound. When they first began, I was concerned by seeing both guitarists playing the same thing for most of the first song. Thankfully, that did not occur again and the show only got better. Hart also contributed occasional samples to the mix, although these were not always very successful. His looping and clever effects on his violin and guitar were consistently great, though, and it was easy to get lost in the haze of this band.

[Dark Rooms.]

Riothorse Royale is the project of Madi Diaz and Emily Greene, a guitarist and a bassist (although I'm not sure which is which!), both of whom sing on most of their songs. They were joined by drummer Danny Reisch, a notable producer of and contributor to many bands in the Austin scene. Their music was instrumentally simple but used to great effect. The beats were basic, the rhythms uncomplicated, and the guitar and bass parts to the point, but they had a good set of effects, and the vocals were excellent. Just about every song featured both vocalists either in harmony or overlapping their parts. The music had a dark, ethereal, post-punk vibe that was almost reminiscent of Warpaint, but the vocals were what took it to another level.

[Riothorse Royale.]

When I last saw Other Lives in 2012, they operated as five-member core with an extra touring musician (who may have been Daniel Hart!). In the meantime, two of their members decamped, leaving the other three to carry on as a trio with guests. On stage, they appeared with two familiar faces: violinist/guitarist/vocalist Hart, who had just played a set as Dark Rooms, and drummer Danny Reisch, who had just done a set with Riothorse Royale. I thought this sharing of members was quite a special treat; it reminded me of when The Cure toured with Siouxsie & the Banshees and Robert Smith served as both frontman of the former and guitarist for the latter.

[Other Lives. Note the lightblubs!]

Other Lives have just released a new album, Rituals, which I hadn't heard before the show. (This is why there is an element of guesswork in my setlist.) They split the set in large part between the new album and their last one, Tamer Animals. While the older songs were more familiar to me and thus more immediately enjoyable, I found the newer material right in line, albeit perhaps more diverse and rhythmically complex, which are certainly welcome changes. There were truly no disappointments: the band performed all the best tracks of Tamer Animals (almost the entire thing!) and about half the new album.

Instrumentally, the band is all over the place. They combine rock basics (guitar, bass, drums) with elements of folk, classical, and electronica (violin, trumpet, multiple keyboards, vibraphone, various forms of percussion). Everyone except the drummer were talented multi-instrumentalists; sometimes the members even switched instruments mid-song. Jesse Tabish provided all the lead vocals, but Hart and Josh Onstott also provided many additional vocal parts. In fact, I noticed Hart singing many parts that I would have otherwise thought were keyboards or string parts. Tamer Animals is full of a dense web of instruments and vocals, often difficult to distinguish, but several parts that I had always thought were instrumental were done live with Hart's voice!

Their set was beautiful, melodic, well performed, entrancing, and (to use the word again) ethereal. They have a way of quickly building a song into a unique space and filling it such that when it's over it feels like it was an epic. Most of their songs are actually on the short side, yet they feel long, as if there is more contained in them than there was time for. When the show was over, I couldn't believe only 75 minutes or so had passed – it felt like they'd fit so much more than that in. It's a real skill to be able to make an experience seem like there was even more there than there was.

[Other Lives playing their final notes of the night.]

Scores:
Dark Rooms: A-
Riothorse Royale: B
Other Lives: A

Friday, May 29, 2015

Wiener Symphoniker - Live 2015.05.22

Artist: Wiener Symphoniker (Vienna Symphony)
Venue: Konzerthaus
Location: Vienna, Austria
Date: 22 May 2015

Program:
1. Overture to The Magic Flute, K. 620, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1791
2. Sinfonia Concertante for Oboe, Clarinet, Horn, and Bassoon in E flat major, K. 297b, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1778
3. Prague Symphony in D major, K. 504, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1786

Eight years after I studied abroad in Vienna, I finally returned with my spouse. While we were there, we couldn't resist the opportunity to see one of the major orchestras perform in a beautiful venue. I even sprung for tickets slightly more expensive than the cheapest available so we could be in a balcony and get a good view. It was well worth it!

[The fantastic Großer Saal (Great Hall) of the Konzerthaus.]

The performance opened with the overture to Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute), a quick, six-minute run-through of the high points of the opera. It was active, vibrant, and strong, but of course, as an overture, that's exactly how it should be. It was an energetic start to the evening.

The stage was then rearranged to highlight the four soloists of the Sinfonia Concertante: Paul Kaiser on oboe, Reinhard Wieser on clarinet, Eric Kushner on French horn, and Patrick de Ritis on bassoon. This work is well known for the dubious authenticity of the commonly available arrangements, but the version performed here was a reconstruction (presumably by Robert Levin) that supposedly approximates the original lost score. I found it to be good and consistent, but rarely remarkable. In several parts, it seemed as if all the strings were all playing a single, unified melody, which is musically rather trite, but it was nonetheless fun to watch the bows all glide and jerk about simultaneously. Close listening to the soloists was well rewarded, as these were performers of the highest caliber, and their careful attention was subtle but delightful. The segments of trade-offs between the soloists and the orchestra were particularly exciting, and the final crescendo was quite a thrill as well.

The final piece featured no specific soloists, but the wind instruments were still very important. The first and third movements were some of the best parts of the night, but the second was a bit of a drag. The first movement started very dark and gloomy before gradually lightening up. Once it got going it became very active and driving. The combination of the timpani and bass was perfect: they worked in lockstep to build a great rhythm. The second movement was conspicuously slower and dreamier. It left me feeling like I was drifting in the clouds, which might be pleasant in some sense, but my focus wandered. The final movement restored the mood with full energy and I was even pleasurably caught off guard by the false endings.

[Conductor Ádám Fischer can be seen departing on stage right.]

This was what I presumed to be conclusion of the night, but the show actually continued on in the central foyer of the venue! This event happened to be one of four in this concert season that were designed to be a little short and without intermission, but which then provided an opportunity to hang out a little longer and meet the orchestra musicians while a smaller ensemble entertained. In this case it was the Quintetto Sinfonico, a wind quintet that provided light, airy background music from a small stage in front of a large Beethoven statue cast in sinister red light. Their performance was pleasant but insubstantial; it was a nice bonus but was no major draw in itself. Due to the lack of documentation, the ambient noise of conversation, and my inability to adequately parse the group's spoken comments in German, I do not know what they performed, but I gathered that it continued the Mozart theme.

[Quintetto Sinfonico on a temporary stage under Beethoven's dark countenance.]

I might have favored a slightly more substantial primary program over the Konzertausklang (finale) provided by Quintetto Sinfonico, but the idea is not without merit. Similarly, the overture to Die Zauberflöte may have been a little brief, but at least it was a high-quality distillation of the larger work. The best parts of the Prague Symphony were likely the high points of the evening, but since the middle passage dragged it down, the Sinfornia Concertante was the more consistently satisfying work. Furthermore, the interplay between the soloists in that piece was a clear highlight. Even if no piece was perfect, they were all of high quality, and I'd be hard-pressed to pick a favorite.

Score: B+

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Austin Psych Fest (Levitation) 2015 Day 1

Event: Austin Psych Fest (Levitation) Day 1
Venue: Carson Creek Ranch
Location: Austin, Texas
Date: 8 May 2015

Introduction: I had such a good time at Austin Psych Fest last year, even with the many minor faults, that I couldn't wait for it to come around again this year. Unfortunately, I have been so busy with other activities that I knew I couldn't go all weekend, so I just picked one day. Sunday features the first reunion of the 13th Floor Elevators since their breakup in 1969, which would be an amazing sight to behold, but I went with Friday, primarily for the opportunity to see Tame Impala, whom I missed my chance to see at Austin City Limits in 2013 due to a rainout. Ironically, this week in Austin has seen record-breaking rainstorms, so I knew going into it that it would be rainy and muddy. This was not at all my first experience with rain-drenched outdoor concerts, so I figured I could deal with it. The worst part was just that the festival grounds had to be reconfigured, as the riverside Elevation Amphitheater was not tenable.

Unlike last year, the grounds didn't open until 3pm, with the first band starting at 3:45. I rode my bike downtown during a downpour around 3pm and waited for the shuttle while seeking shelter in a covered doorway. A group of three Australians joined me, and after they quickly grew impatient, I joined them in an Über ride to the venue. (Thanks again, Steve and Caroline!)

I started with Hundred Visions. I was fairly disappointed by their noisy, thrashy punk sound and quickly departed to Willie Thrasher and Linda Saddleback. I wasn't entirely sure what to make of them. Thrasher is an old school Inuit folk musician hailing from Aklavik in the Northwest Territories of Canada. I admired his spirit (and he sung and spoke plenty about spirit!), but his performance was not actually very accomplished. Part of his claim to fame at the moment is the appearance of several of his older songs on the recent Native North America, Vol. 1 compilation. He played "Spirit Child", which he claimed to have forgotten until he heard it again on the collection, but most of his songs followed a similar pattern: rapid, heavy strumming on an acoustic guitar; shouted, nearly strained vocals; a not-so-steady pulse on a bass drum; and vocal and tambourine accompaniment from his partner, Linda Saddleback. I dug his message and ageless energy, but he could benefit from a little variety of style.

[Willie Thrasher & Linda Saddleback. Note that this is the weather-afflicted relocation of the Elevation Amphitheater.]

Mr. Elevator and the Brain Hotel: I was immediately surprised that the centrally-located figure on stage, the bassist, did not have a mic and did not appear to be a frontperson per se. In fact, it was rather ambiguous who, if anyone, led the band. The two keyboardists on either side of the stage both contributed vocals, as did the drummer. Usually, all three sang together. I was pleasant surprised at my own confusion as to what was happening on stage, and it was all the better in that the music was great. It was groovy and bright with a deep psych vibe.

[Mr. Elevator and the Brain Hotel.]

Ringo Deathstarr: I had missed them at SXSW, despite that I was rather excited by them. Their studio output sounds straight of 1990, as if they were still right in the middle of the shoegaze phenomenon. Their sound might be a complete ripoff, but the recordings are just so good that I don't care. On stage, they come off like much less of a My Bloody Valentine soundalike, instead leaning in a heavier, harder direction. Unfortunately, in the absence of the thick psychedelia I was expecting, there wasn't much left. They were missing a lot of what I thought made them special, but they still played a fun set.

[Ringo Deathstarr.]

The Holydrug Couple: This late addition to the lineup turned out to be a most welcome bonus. Hailing from Chile, they play a classic psych sound that they have thoroughly mastered. They had great keyboard and guitar sounds and a great groove. The highlight was probably an instrumental featuring the lead vocalist on percussion effects and keyboard. I appreciated their careful integration of various effects into their total sound without letting them overwhelm the instruments and thus come off as gimmicks. They ended with a long, drawn out space jam.

[The Holydrug Couple. This is sadly the last picture I managed to capture!]

Holy Wave: I'd just seen them at SXSW, but enjoyed their droney, stoner groove enough to want to see them again. I like that their vibe is mellow but still full of movement. Their five members really blend in with each other well.

Indian Jewelry: I'm still not sure what to make of this band or their name, but I was encouraged enough by their recordings. Live, they were less ethereal and gauzy than I was expecting, and perhaps a little more dancey and effect-oriented. Instead of coming off like some kind of cousin to The Cocteau Twins, they were something of a mess, lost somewhere between electronic dance music, trance, and spacey psychedelia. There was lots of fuzz bass and a dense web of effects. It was bizarre and hard to make sense of.

DIIV: I think I thought this was some sort of dreampop band, and while most of their songs were dreamy or hazy, only occasionally did a pop sensibility emerge. It was more some sort of spaced out rock, but their three guitarists didn't exactly make the most of their instruments and I was left waiting for the music to take me somewhere. After every song, they repeated some variant of the words, "Hello, we're DIIV from New York. This is a new song."

White Fence: Their basic sound might be somewhat derivatively based in 60s garage rock and classic psych, but I loved it all the same. They were a tight band and the music came together well. Several times, they broke free of their chains and let loose into a long space jams.

Spiritualized: I've always admired the Spacemen 3 and Spiritualized, even if I've never followed them closely. My legs were strained and my eyes couldn't take the light show, so I had to sit down, but I could still hear them well. In additional to a full backing band, bandleader Jason Pierce also employed two backing vocalists to add harmonies. The set was very mellow, but very precise. Musically, it was warm and pleasant; it felt like a dream that I was being slowly guided through. It was never jarring or grating or ugly. It also seemed like every single song was about drugs, including the twisted turnaround of "She Kissed Me (And It Felt Like a Hit)". "Electricity" and the Spacemen 3 sendup "Walkin' with Jesus" were standouts. The setlist has been posted online:

01. Here It Comes (The Road, Let's Go)
02. Lord Let It Rain on Me
03. Electricity
04. Shine a Light
05. Electric Mainline
06. She Kissed Me (It Felt Like a Hit)
07. Soul on Fire
08. Oh Baby
09. Rated X
10. Walkin' with Jesus

Tame Impala: I finally got to see them and I was not disappointed! They played most of their amazing Lonerism, a few tracks from Innerspeaker, two new songs to be released on Currents, and a few instrumental jams that have only been played live (and in some but not all cases, released on last year's Live Versions). The grooves were solid, the musicianship was tight and impressive, and they delivered everything I could've wanted. They switched things up on several songs, adding jam sections and extended instrumentals throughout, making it a constant pleasure to try to figure out where they were going next. This was also the live debut of "Eventually". They played for about 80 minutes, and while I would've loved an encore, they wrapped up around 1:45am and I think the festival was supposed to be winding down by then. Here's the setlist (with some help on the details from here and here):

01. Intro Jam
02. Let It Happen
03. Mind Mischief
04. Sestri Levante
05. It Is Not Meant to Be
06. Why Won't They Talk to Me?
07. Elephant → Mind Melt → Jazz Prog Odyssey 3070
08. Be Above It
09. Alter Ego
10. Eventually
11. Why Won't You Make Up Your Mind?
12. Feels Like We Only Go Backwards
13. Apocalypse Dreams

Final Thoughts: Sadly, the story does not end here. Last year, I had some trouble getting on the shuttle back downtown, but this time around was far worse. I'm still not clear on what really happened, but after I got in the line, two buses filled up, departed, and never returned. We were told they were stuck due to mud and traffic, but after the traffic cleared (along with the entire parking lot), they were still nowhere to be found. As taxis and Über rides started diminishing the remaining crowd, we became increasingly anxious as nothing really happened. At one point, a couple hired security staff members even openly mocked us for asking where the buses were. Around 4:30am I finally caught a ride in a taxi with a few other stranded attendees. This issue has been somewhat addressed on the festival website, the Facebook page for the shuttle, and personal email interchange, but it was rather upsetting. I finally got home around 5:30am. (Last year it was about 3:30am, which was bad enough.) Apparently, next year they will be using a different service, and in the meantime they've added extra shuttles.

Scores:
Hundred Visions: D
Willie Thrasher and Linda Saddleback: C+
Mr. Elevator and the Brain Hotel: A
Ringo Deathstarr: B-
The Holydrug Couple: A-
Holy Wave: B+
Indian Jewelry: C
DIIV: C-
White Fence: B+
Spiritualized: A-
Tame Impala: A+

P.S. Here's where the Elevation Amphitheater was originally supposed to be:


Friday, April 24, 2015

On the Meaning of Krautrock and Kosmische Musik

After spending a great deal of time listening to a large variety of bands labeled "Krautrock" while reading and reviewing Julian Cope's Krautrocksampler, I started thinking about the term and what it really means. Cope, like many others, criticizes the term as being a lazy British invention that collected together a disparate set of unrelated bands under one label. Nonetheless, Cope uses the term extensively to the point of naming his book after it. He and others have claimed that the term was derived from Amon Düül's first album, Psychedelic Underground (1969), which contained a track titled "Mama Düül und ihre Sauerkrautband spielt auf". By the time Faust titled a song "Krautrock" on Faust IV in 1973, it was already done in a spirit of jest and parody.

Plenty of other terms were used in and outside of Germany for the various forms of "new" music coming out of German-speaking countries around the late 60s and early 70s, but the most common one (in Germany, at least) was "Kosmische Musik", i.e. "cosmic music". Cope cites Amon Düül II's debut album, Phallus Dei, and Can's debut album, Monster Movie, both released in 1969, as the first rumblings of this movement. Whether those two albums really represent that term well is questionable, but the core of the idea was music that was progressive, forward-looking, future-oriented, and perhaps psychedelic and drug-induced. Then and now, Kosmische could mean proto-ambient music or it could mean trippy guitar jams.

[The first pressing of "The" Can's Monster Movie.]

Part of the problem is that these two terms, Krautrock and Kosmische Musik, are not necessarily the same thing. Krautrock is often used as an umbrella term for all German rock bands of the era, and Kosmische sometimes is as well, but this rather confusing and ignores the nuances of both terms. It would seem that originally they did mean two different things, albeit with substantial shared ground. In fact, if I may indulge in the art of organization and categorization, I would say that there are at least six distinct styles or trends or genres of music that came out of Germany in the Krautrock era. Here's how I might break it down:

1. Space Jams, Psychedelia and Acid Blues Rock: This may be the largest grouping, but what unites it is a predilection for long guitar-based jams. Bass and drums go without saying, and keyboards are often included as well. Vocals are optional. These songs usually "rock" in some sense, perhaps owe something to jazz or the blues, and often have a psychedelic, trippy, "far out, man" aesthetic. Examples include Guru Guru, The Cosmic Jokers, Kraan, the first side of most Ash Ra Tempel albums, many early Amon Düül II songs, much of Agitation Free, and maybe even Annexus Quam. Xhol Caravan is perhaps a soul-derived variant of this, and Embryo might be a particular jazzy version. These bands excel in energy and virtuosity and usually have good grooves. The downside is that they are sometimes lacking in substance and prone to self-indulgence.


2. Progressive Rock: I'm using this category for bands that sound like they may as well have come from the British prog rock scene – except that the vocals are distinctly accented and sometimes even deliberately bizarrely intoned. I'm talking about "progressive" in the sense of bands like Yes, Genesis, and King Crimson: complicated song structures, intricate arrangements, bombastic sound, exploratory vision, and so on. The German bands in this vein aren't necessary derivative, but this is perhaps the closest grouping to any segment of mainstream Anglo-American music. I would include bands like Jane, Birth Control, Grobschnitt, and later Amon Düül II. This music is usually full of surprises and a good mix of intellect and fun, but can also be over-the-top and excessive.


3. Experimental, Academic, and Sound Collage: This might be the earliest variety, arguably descending from Karlheinz Stockhausen's compositions such as Telemusik in 1966 and Hymnen in 1967. Most of these bands come from an art school background and liked experimenting with sound and unusual methods of sound production. The "studio as instrument" cliché could easily be applied here. Much of this music is arrhythmic, and all of it is instrumental. This is pre-synthesizer, but in the heyday of tape loops and studio ingenuity. Unconventional instrumentation (for rock music, at least) such as flutes, violin, bells, and glockenspiel are common. Good examples are Kluster, early Cluster, early Tangerine Dream, Organisation, and early Kraftwerk. Autobahn is right on the line and perhaps the last prominent example. This is music that can easily be derided as overly "academic" in the sense of not being particularly listener-friendly. There is a lot of creativity and a wealth of ideas, but only a minimal attempt to address these traits to the interests of a conventional listener.


4. Ambient and Cosmic Soundscapes: Although Brian Eno might be credited (correctly or otherwise) with spurring the genrification of ambient music, I would argue that Komische bands were the initial instigators. (Note that Eno did not disagree and in fact recorded albums with Cluster and Harmonia in the 70s.) These bands preferred long, slow moving, spaced out sonic explorations. Most of these bands are instrumental, most used synthesizers and electronics, and only occasionally did they dabble in rhythm. The best of the bunch include Tangerine Dream, Cluster, the second side of most Ash Ra Tempel albums, Klaus Schulze, Cluster, Harmonia. Popol Vuh also fit here, although they also ventured into more "world music" directions. Note that most of the major players of the third category migrated to this style in a matter of a couple years. Much like later, more widely accepted variants of ambient, this music is too easily regulated to "background" status, and often suffers under the strain of focused listening. Nonetheless, as "mood music" they usually succeed in establishing a nuanced, textural playground.


5. Space Folk: This might be the smallest subset, at least as far as my knowledge goes, but I think they deserve a unique space. These acts play some version of folk music, where vocals, acoustic guitars, and various forms of hand percussion are central. This is more than just standard folk music in that there are psychedelic tendencies, extended song structures, and sometimes even a jam atmosphere. Bands that belong here include Amon Düül (in particular Paradieswärts Düül), Witthüser & Westrupp, Hoelderlin, and the second half of Amon Düül II's Yeti (which are improvisations that in part include members of Amon Düül). For fans of folk and psychedelia, these bands represent a unique variant of conventional folk music. Prog- and hard rock-oriented types may be put off by the overly hippie-like aesthetic and the relatively subtle energy.


6. Innovative Rock: This is the hardest group to pin down and typify. I think these bands are what really drove the British idea of the existence of a unique German genre of music (i.e. Krautrock). These bands could perhaps be described as progressive or psychedelic, but they don't really sound anything like Anglo-American prog and psych bands. These bands are loosely "rock" groups in some fashion, but often have jazz influences. They are usually rooted in conventional rock instrumentation, but seem to favor keyboards and electronics. The key is that the music is almost always rhythmic and driving, with a very strong propulsive energy and a certain restlessness. It's no surprise that the punk and post-punk movements clearly owed a lot to these bands. I'll admit this category is something of a catch-all for bands that don't easily fit elsewhere, but I think that's actually the point: these are musicians that really transcended their antecedents and their surroundings and made something truly new. The difficulty of ascribing existing titles to the style is perhaps why Krautrock became such a pervasive term. The key bands here are Can, Faust, Neu!, Kraftwerk (from Autobahn through Trans-Europa Express), and La Düsseldorf. I might also include some more overtly electronic acts like Wolfgang Riechmann and later-period Kraftwerk. I think the bands in this category are practically faultless and thus represent the best of German music from the 70s.

[The inner sleeve of Kraftwerk's Trans-Europa Express.]

It's hard for me to hide that I think the bands in group #6 are the best of the lot. They have been my favorites since I first started looking into these various movements, and they still are now. That's not to say I don't like bands from the other divisions, but I tend to find them a more mixed bag. There are exceptions, such as Harmonia, whose blend of ambient, experimentation, and pulsing rock I find delightful, and Paradieswärts Düül, which I find surprisingly beautiful. Conversely, Julian Cope seems to enjoy an odd mixture from each group except #2 (the straight prog groups). We mostly agree about the strengths of #6, but we disagree on many of the other details.

More important than my preferences, though, is the nature of the categorization. There is an inherent problem with making a rubric such as this in that the divisions are somewhat arbitrary and overlapping. These groupings all share plenty of attributes, such as nontraditional song length and an explicit sense of looking to the future or outside of the norm. These supposed divisions are really spectra within a multidimensional field of possibilities, and most bands don't fit perfectly under any single label. Some bands are particularly challenging: Can skirted many styles all at once, and both Cluster and Kraftwerk made several distinct changes over their careers. Then there's Ash Ra Tempel, where the two sides of their albums are consistently divergent.

[Cluster's Sowiesoso. This is the cover of the CD reissue, which was the back cover of the original pressing, but I actually prefer it to the original cover.]

So does "Krautrock" just mean "German music that rocks", i.e. groups #1, #2, and #6? Does "Kosmische Musik" equate with the proto-ambient music of group #4, or does it also include the cosmic rock of group #1? Or does it stretch to include anything vaguely cosmic, spacey, other-worldly, or "far out" (presumably groups #3 and #4, but possibly also #1, #5, and #6)? I think it is problematic to call all German music from this era "Krautrock" (why not just call it German music and drop the slur?), but at a minimum I do think the sixth category deserves some special recognition – bands like those really didn't exist anywhere else.

The problem with "Krautrock" and "Kosmische Musik" is that they've been used so many times to mean different things, sometimes overlapping and sometimes explicitly distinct. I propose that we either drop those terms or decide on specific meanings for them. In the meantime, we should group these artists by their actual styles, as I have, or perhaps by the historical associations they had with each other, be that based on record labels, geography, or some other metric. I would like it if we called all of this music "progressive German music" and perhaps restricted "Krautrock" to group #6. We could call group #1 "German cosmic rock", #2 "German prog rock", #3 "German cosmic experimental music", #4 "German cosmic ambient", #5 "German cosmic folk", and #6 "German innovative rock". Maybe then we would have terms that actually mean something consistent!

One final note: the Freemans' The Crack in the Cosmic Egg lists, in addition to all the bands I've mentioned and plenty more I haven't, a few bands from the late 70s Neue Deutsche Welle movement. This is somewhat surprising only in that it seems hard to find fans of both Krautrock and NDW. Much like punk and post-punk in England, NDW consciously rejected much of what came before, or at least digested it into bold new forms. The problem here is that the Freemans' choice of NDW bands is rather inscrutable. They list Din A Testbild but not Einstürzende Neubauten; D.A.F., Der Plan, and Pyrolator but not Abwärts, S.Y.P.H., or Palais Schaumburg; and Nina Hagen (probably just because her band was once part of Lokomotive Kreuzberg) but none of the other various German punks like Mittagspause, Male, The Wirtschaftswunder, or Fehlfarben. I consider these aberrant inclusions in such a list to be unwarranted, as the punk/NDW scene was really quite a different movement.

Friday, April 17, 2015

Julian Cope - Krautrocksampler (1995)


Title: Krautrocksampler
Author: Julian Cope
Publisher: Head Heritage
Year: 1995

I inherited an interest in Krautrock and Kosmische Musik in the good old fashioned way: through my dad's Kraftwerk records and an older friend in college that lent me his Neu! collection. I eventually started picking up remastered Can CDs, and when I left the USA to live in Germany for a year, I decided I would make a habit of digging through record stores in search of treasured old German albums. With great persistence, I managed to find a good batch of Neue Deutsche Welle albums, but I actually had a very hard time finding Krautrock records. It turns out those albums usually have complicated histories of limited pressings by various labels, authorized or otherwise, and they always sell at high prices. The only exceptions were La Düsseldorf, whose incredible first two albums I found at cheap prices, and Wolfgang Riechmann, whose lone album was a lucky find.


I continued my search upon return to the States. I started finding expensive Faust and Amon Düül I/II reissues, and with the income of a full-time job, I could finally actually afford them. Somewhere along this process, I started to hear about Julian Cope's Krautrocksampler, supposedly the premier source of information on these bands and others. I knew Cope well from The Teardrop Explodes, an excellent post-punk band, so it was believable that he could be an authority. However, the book was long out of print and impossible to find, just like most of the records. At one point, a bartender overheard me talking about it and claimed that he'd just sold his copy for a couple hundred dollars. This was the stuff of myths – again, much like the records.

Eventually I managed to acquire a copy. It's actually a rather slender book of only nine chapters and about 140 pages. It's also very poorly edited, rather poorly written, questionably accurate, and highly subjective. That doesn't make it a worthless book, but I was quite disappointed by the lack of an attempt to be balanced, objective, thorough, methodical, consistent, or comprehensive. If you manage not to worry about those things, and somehow excuse the occasional ableist language, it's at best a mildly enjoyable read, mostly because Cope lets it play out more like a fabled story instead of a historical document.

The book starts off with some background information covering the roots of Krautrock, such as the 60s student riots, The Monks, leftist politics, Karlheinz Stockhausen, the commune movement, Yoko Ono, and a general desire to make new music that wasn't just rooted in Anglo-American rock music. But after the comparatively well-written, organized, and thoughtful first two chapters, the remaining seven are each dedicated to a particularly notable band or two. These chapters are dominated by Cope's overwhelming predilections for storytelling and hyperbolizing, which prevent the narrative from getting sidetracked into things as trivial as facts. His language gets even more casual and excited to the point that it becomes hard to trust his opinions. (Example: "It's hard to feel spiritually satisfied by Neu 2 but is truly pretty fucking good.") While such nontraditional descriptions of music can sometimes be clever and enlightening, they often leave you wondering just how subjective those experiences are.


While the sections on Neu! and Can are mostly reasonable, the section on Faust has been hotly contested, and the Amon Düül section lacks any great insight. The book really veers into total mythic territory for the sections about Ash Ra Tempel and the Cosmic Couriers. There might be some truth to the wild tales of Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser and his mostly unwitting gang, but the whole thing is hard to take seriously, especially since Cope is so fanboyishly fond of the Cosmic Jokers albums. These albums may have had their moments, but they were constructed under questionable circumstances and sound quite dated and indulgent today.

The last fifty pages of the book take the form of an appendix of Cope's top 50 Krautrock albums, reviews of these albums, and several prints of album sleeves. Some of this content is great to have, but most is rather trite. In particular, his choice of the best albums of the genre is very strangely distributed. He generally selects the first three or four albums by his favorite bands, along with everything related to the Cosmic Couriers. But why exactly is Amon Düül II's Tanz der Lemminge excluded? Where did Moebius and Plank's Rastakrautpasta (1980) come from, if almost everything else on the list is circa 1969 – 1975? There are also albums like Guru Guru's UFO and Klaus Schulze's Cyborg that were hardly mentioned in the primary text. (The Guru Guru choice is especially questionable, since their next few albums after UFO are actually better.) It's also incongruous that several albums by Popol Vuh are in the Top 50 when they were largely ignored elsewhere in the book. And considering Cope's tastes, it's certainly odd that Agitation Free are only mentioned in a tiny extra blurb on the very last page of the second edition.


Cope is allowed to have his own preferences, but he does a disservice to his work by lacking consistency and failing to even mention countless other bands that were part of the same movements. He clearly downplays the influence of Kraftwerk (only listing their practically forgotten 1970 debut album in his Top 50), despite that they are probably the only Krautrock band in the mainstream consciousness (although in fairness there is plenty of information about them elsewhere). He might also be right to dismiss bands like Jane (too hard rock) and Embryo (too jazz fusion), but what about bands like Annexus Quam, Hoelderlin, Paternoster, Xhol Caravan, Grobschnitt, or Kraan, to name just a few? These bands might be second-rate to the bigger names he does cover, but it is inaccurate to pretend that there were only a few players on the scene(s).

The final straw for this book is the number of typos and mistranslations. Many, many German words are misspelled, and it is clear that no one fluent in German ever proofread the book. "Aufspielen" means "strike up", not "speak out", and "Gelt" should be "Geld", and it means "money", not "gold"! How is it that these errors still made it to the second edition? Mistakes like these only further reduce Cope's legitimacy and reinforce the notion that his perspective is that of an outsider.

Supposedly, Cope has not reprinted the book in many years because he admitted there were too many factual errors and realized there were greater authorities on the subject. While I think Cope is right, unfortunately, most of the existing literature suffers similar faults. There don't even seem to be any remotely comprehensive German-language works on the relevant movements. (I'd love to be proven wrong.) Compared to Cope's book, Krautrock: Cosmic Rock and Its Legacy (2010; edited by Nikos Kotsopoulos) seems similarly short and incomplete, and the relatively new Future Days (2014) by David Stubbs also seems heavily opinionated, just with a different set of biases (see here and here for reviews). The best-looking publication might be The Crack in the Cosmic Egg, first published 1996 as a book and later as a CD-ROM. It seems to aim to be the most comprehensive guide, but judging by the "light" version freely available online, it lacks a certain amount of critical analysis. It's also worth remembering that AllMusic, discogs.com, and Wikipedia (especially if you read German) generally have a lot of this information, too, along with the scanned album sleeves.

For better or worse, Krautrocksampler is still considered the most important resource on the subject, probably just because it got there first. If Cope opened the door, then I'm thankful for it, but his work cannot be considered authoritative or definitive. While the upbeat and enthusiastic tone gives the book an encouraging rush of energy, the poor language and many typos and errors render the book ineffectual and unsatisfying. He does cover a lot of great music, so I would hate to think that the low quality of the book would reflect negatively upon the subject matter. Seek out these bands, but follow some other guide.

Score: D+

P.S. Next up: a post about the terminology and scope of Krautrock and Kosmische Musik, along with a few opinions of my own on the bands in question.