Rockers To Swallow

Three months into 2012 and already the year sounds promising for contemporary music, which—barring a few obvious exceptions—felt especially static in 2011. Last year saw the triumph of the solitary musician, armed with only a laptop and probably cloistered in some Brooklyn studio apartment. While the result made for consistently compelling music, each subsequent bedroom project tended to saturate the blogosphere with different takes on the same drugged-out electronica. In the process, certain records that stood out simply by virtue of sounding like nothing else around them—James Blake’s self-titled debut, tUnE-YaRdS’ w h o k i l l, The Weeknd’s House Of Balloons—often got obscured in the wash of down-tempo instrumentals and surfers of “chillwave.” Fortunately, at the same time, 2011 played host to a revolution for underground hip-hop, with MC’s such as Danny Brown, A$AP Rocky, Kendrick Lamarr, and G-Side assuming the mantle of mix-tape mastery laid down by the boys from Odd Future.

So far, the music of 2012 sounds like a fulfillment of the potentials introduced in 2011, while pushing forward into new territories that bode well for the upcoming year in music. Without further ado, here are five tracks released this year that testify to that promise. If you’ve heard them, perhaps you can relate to my excitement. If not, it’s time to give them a listen: Continue reading

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(Picture by Greg Greenwood)

A concert review for “Rock N’ Roll Writing.” Continue reading

A book review written for “Rock N’ Roll Writing.” Continue reading

Another piece written for “Rock N’ Roll Writing.” The assignment asked us to defend a hated piece of popular culture.  Continue reading

A personal piece written for “Rock N’ Roll Writing,” a class I took in spring of 2011. The assignment asked us to describe a song that made us cry. I wrote about the song that always makes me cry: Continue reading

I’ve spent the last month or so trying to clean up a lot of the spam and viruses that have come my way. Unfortunately in the process, I lost a lot of data, and–due to my idiocy/negligence–I forgot to back it up. So, about 2 months’ worth of work is corrupted and unrecoverable…but, such is life.

I apologize for the inconvenience. The site is back up and running now.

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This summer, California’s FYF Fest organized a series of concerts at a balmy warehouse in Greenpoint, informally known as “The House of Vans.” The keyword in the poster above–”free”–applies to nearly every inch of Chez Vans, from the price of admission to the availability of beer. Before your fuck-the-man sensibilities prompt you to gripe about the auspices of corporate sponsorship, keep in mind that unlike Central Park’s Summerstage or even last summer’s Jelly Pool Parties, “The House of Vans” keeps its branding to a minimum. Coupled with a surprisingly stacked lineup, the concert series comes across less like a shameless marriage of advertising and youth culture, more like an opportunity for Vans to convert cash into cred. In other words, the “House of Vans” message sounds not so much like, “buy our sneakers because we listen to hip young music just like you do!,” but more like, “buy our sneakers if you want, but for now, here’s some great music.” How else do you account for last Thursday’s quadruple header of Pissed Jeans, Screaming Females, Fucked Up and Cro-Mags? Continue reading

Trying to describe a Reggie Watts show is like trying to describe a night spent at home amusedly browsing the Internet. Behind a mass of untamed facial shrubbery that would make even Kyp Malone blush, the Seattle-based entertainer presents an improvisational blend of stand-up comedy and loop-based musical compositions. In the process however, Watts twists and mocks the conventions of both traditions so well that his show inhabits a brand of live performance entirely of his own creation. Continue reading