Last Saturday, I attended a massive all-day concert down by Brooklyn’s Gowanus Canal. With a dry heat hovering around 75 degrees, the weather was freakishly perfect for New York, and the wind blew in just the right direction so the gonorrhea-ridden inlet rippled with shiny waves, emitting barely any of its usual stench. It got me thinking about the almighty summer mixtape, and I began plotting what songs to burn on CDs to take on vacation with me later this month. The experimental metal scene I profiled last month is full of innovation, but even dark, tortured souls like myself have moms who invite them to the beach once in a while. In these situations, a soundtrack of irregular crashes won’t do, but that doesn’t mean you have have to listen to shitty radio. The following tracks are summery without being stupid, hence they are going in my mix. What's going in yours?

High Places-“New Grace”

All tropical tinkling, sweet vocals, and muffled, pitch-shifted steel pan drums, this song will make you feel like you’re dancing the congo deep at the bottom of a haunted lake on the mythical Caribbean island in The Tempest. The lyrics, which tumble like pretty pebbles from singer Mary Pearson’s mouth, are just evocative enough to spark your imagination without dictating exactly what to picture:

Instead of dank dark night it's all light and warm hues/
The nighttime puts on diff'rent clothes and she takes off her shoes/
She looks so much nicer familiar and softer in December greens and blues/
I can't imagine how we made it through those months of crushing gloom.

That last line resonates on days when the slushy, miserable two thirds of the year seem as far away as can be. Turn up the bass, or better yet, see them live, and you’ll find the sunny highs balanced out by thumping drum hits that will make you want to do a happy booty shake.

CSS-“Left Behind”



By the time the sun sets on the all-day party, you will most likely have had a few. Let’s say hypothetically you see your ex and start dwelling on how much you hate his stupid pretty face, pretentious tone of voice, and the fact that he found a new lover before you, without even trying. When this happens, you must immediately find a club that has angsty '80’s dance tunes, strong drinks, and equal parts girls, gays, and guys you can make out with. With drum machines, synthesizers, and a deadpan reference to “a suitcase in Helsinki full of things I wanna set on fire,” this song is both a campy portrayal of, and suitable soundtrack for, just such a scenario:

I’m gonna jump onto the table and dance my ass off til I die/
And then I’ll hopefully forget you, and quit those nightmares I’ve been having every night…

Some think the Brazilian dance rockers are veering more towards '90s alt-rock than new wave, and that would be ok with me, but this song is pure '80s throwback in the vein of Pat Benatar, so I guess I’ll have to wait for their forthcoming album, Donkey, to see whether this holds true for the other songs.

Vivian Girls-“Tell the World”

This track is a perfect mixture of ‘60s pop, surf, garage, and shoegaze-y reverb. The three female voices harmonize to create an effect similar to The Mamas and the Papas’ "California Dreamin’", proving once again that not all New York bands play ear splitting noise or radio-ready dance rock (not that there’s anything wrong with those). The peppy bass and drum lines are loud in the mix, adding punk energy in much the same way as the Black Lips; neither band is overtly punk, but can get a crowd raging nonetheless. You can sway along to this one without messing up your hair, though if you see them live, be advised that they’re playing faster and louder these days and you might sweat a little. I’d play this constantly by my pool, if I had a pool, and do that dance where it looks like you're swimming in my yellow polka dot bikini. (Does that dance have a name?)


The Death Set-“Negative Thinking”

Remember how much shit I talked about “paper-thin party songs” last month? Perhaps I was too harsh in my judgments. I spent some time at a recent Death Set show sweating balls and jumping around like a crazy chick, and if anyone there read my column, they totes would have called me out. With a beat that grows in volume but not complexity, constantly intensifying distorted guitar lines, bouncy synths taken straight from A-ha and a singalong refrain, "Negative Thinking" makes you want to rock out harder with each second that passes.

Ninjasonik-The Mix #3

This downloads as one track, but is actually composed of many. The hip hop "mixtape," for the uninitiated, was conceived as a way for artists to circulate their constantly evolving jams quickly through the underground. These mixes are still viewed as bootlegs by the RIAA, as they often contain unauthorized samples, but fuck that noise. Mixtapes are about deconstructing and rapping over hot shit as soon as it drops, and I’m pretty sure of the samples Ninjasonik used are from consenting parties; tour buddies Team Robespierre and the Death Set appear remixed frequently. The whole thing is over an hour long, basically an album unto itself, but here are some highlights:

It’s a picture party and I’m ready to leave it

In which Jah Jah, a.k.a. the Reverend McFly, calls out lame Manhattan parties like the late Misshapes for being full of “hipsters lookin’ way too stiff” and girls who wear "slutty clothes they bought with their parents' money," but who are not actually down to fuck, and who pose for pictures before "bumping coke up their noses," which they also bought with their parents’ money (the coke, but maybe the noses too).

I love art school girls

In which Jah travels back to Brooklyn from the island to express his love of girls who make ‘zines and paint pictures:

You’re very abstract…We should collaborate…Do you stretch your own canvas? Maybe you could teach me sometime...And then get a coffee, but not from Starbucks. We should go to that really danky shop, you know on the corner of…

The fun he pokes towards artistes is gentler, because he knows we’re all a little silly here in North Brooklyn, including guys who rap about how tight their pants are (Ninjasonik's Tight Pants EP came out on Chief Records this month), and anyway, at the end of the day what really matters about a girl is not how pretentious her art is, but whether she will suck your dick from the back.

From Brooklyn to England, we get the dancefloor jumpin’

In which Jah shows us that, in addition to shouting, “I’m a tight pants wearin’ ass nigga!” in a bad ass way and rocking said tight pants, he can actually rap as well, and engages in the time honored tradition of talking shit about how he's a better rapper than everyone else. He may not be “the new O.D.B.” like he fronts, but we love him just the same.

She and Him-“Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?”



Unlike most “music” made by actors, the songs on She and Him’s debut album, Volume One, are all addictively good, and not even in a “guilty pleasure” type of way. This one is no exception: a confection of June Carter-era country, '60s girl group harmonies, descending choruses of “aahs” and “ba bas,” and hooks galore, it’s a perfect vehicle for Zooey Deschanel’s perky, quirky voice. The song’s weird video undercuts all the cheesiness nicely: donning various cute outfits, the heartbreakingly adorable Zooey grins and skips through shootings, stabbings, and a downright Vaudevillian death that leaves her lying in a pool of cartoon blood as vultures close in. Girly lyrics like "Why don’t you sit right down and stay a while/We like the same things and I like your style" are simultaneously modern and classic. The icing on the cake? Deschanel wrote most of the music herself. Girl power!

Abe Vigoda-"Dead City Waste Wilderness"

Denizens of Los Angeles D.I.Y. hot spot The Smell, these tropicali-punksters do a cool take on world pop that is considerably more likeable than that of certain other collegiate, world music-pillaging, Paul Simon-loving bands. Yes, this track has a rollicking tribal beat and steel pan drums, but you get the idea that their hearts are in the right place with it. With a less polished vocal style, fuzzier production, and more room given over to noise and chaos reminiscent of an actual Caribbean island, these kids make music you can enjoy even if you've never owned anything from Louis Vuitton. Would my old pals Vampire Weekend ever write a song called "Dead City Waste Wilderness"? I think not. Then again, I'd be a big liar if I said I wasn't bringing Vampire Weekend to the beach as well. They don't get their own entry because I'm assuming they're already in all of your mixes, and also because I'm tired. I guess this would be as good a time as any to reveal that I'll be passing through the Afro-pop capital of the world on the way to my destination, and will quite literally "get out" of Cape Cod, via ferry, at night. Glass houses, etc. I can't wait.

Stories about the RIAA bullying music fans are so ubiquitous it's nearly becoming white noise. The association has been trying to kill ants with a hammer; when the blow strikes true, it's devastating, but even as you squash a couple here or there, there's an entire Internet's worth of ant colony hanging out underground.

But that’s about the artists who've been "discovered." One thing people don't focus on when the RIAA goes on the rampage is, well, who CAN we download, listen to, and maybe even share without fear of the grand hammer falling on our heads?

One genre of music that's doing just fine without the support of major labels is comedic music. American society hasn't really embraced funny music, allowing "Weird Al" Yankovic to squirm his way into the mainstream only after decades of work. But these days, musicians don't need labels and, using the Internet as their platform, their options are limitless.

One of the hottest funny musicians is Jonathan Coulton, who got attention with his "Thing a Week" podcast, where he released a song a week, coming up with gems such as "Code Monkey" – the anthem for diligent, lonely engineers, and "Skullcrusher Mountain" – the love song from an evil mastermind to his intended. He put a business model around his podcast, making the most recent songs available for free, but if you wanted archives you had to pay a small amount for each. Coulton also is a fan of the Creative Commons license, a way to distribute and share digital content online without losing your copyright.

The comedy musicians – The Great Luke Ski, Rob Balder, Worm Quartet, Tom Smith and Sudden Death - who created The Funny Music Project (FuMP) asked Coulton if they could steal his business model, and then began releasing two songs per week by their members and some guest bands. Again, the most recent songs are free, then available for a small fee, then available on a CD.

Tom Rockwell of the comedy rap group Sudden Death (a favorite on 38-year funny music aficionado Dr. Demento’s show for the past several years, with songs like “Cellular Degeneration” about cell phones that can do everything but make a phone call), a founding member of the FuMP, says the site will be launching a video section too and will solicit fan-made videos. Unlike the RIAA (which Sudden Death released a song about: "Take Back The Music"), Rockwell loves the sharing aspect of the Internet. "When people share [music] with friends, they're making us a new fan," he said.

Grant Baciocco, the frontman of the comedy band Throwing Toasters, agrees. The band gives away ZIP files of entire albums and recordings of live shows, inviting people to pay what they think the music is worth. Also, Baciocco is enjoying the alternative exposure YouTube gets him, as many people have found him through his videos. He actually invites fan video associated with his projects. While he does release albums, he says that the evolving standard is not to wait until an album is done before releasing: "The days of doing full albums are over. Now when you have a song you release it online."

This concept may make the RIAA scream with out rage, but let’s face it – geeks blaze the trail in technology; we were first online, we were first to buy the gadgets, and, as comedy musicians are almost always geeks, they will be the first to try out new things online to get listeners and build a fanbase.

The band Beatnik Turtle created waves in 2007 with The Song of the Day, releasing 365 songs through the year, getting the band thousands of new fans. They proudly proclaimed “quantity over quality”, knowing that some of their songs would be gems, an other would, well, not be. Beatnik Turtle member Randy Chertkow, co-author of upcoming book The Indie Band Survival Guide, says the music industry has changed considerably simply due to MP3s. "As soon as you divorce something from a physical object, it loses value," he said. "MP3s are becoming the preferred format, and therefore not as valuable [as CDs] to the listener. So you have to figure out how to make money giving it away."

But how does one get noticed online? Funny music is not the only genre making waves online: Jody Whitesides, an indie rock musician and the first artist to appear on iTunes who wasn't signed with a label, says it's harder now to get listeners than it was a decade ago. An indie musician has to do something new that will grab attention. "You can't just put music out on the web and hope," he said. He stresses that performance and know-how still matter a great deal.

MySpace, considered THE place to be for musicians to reach new fans, is something that the artists have a love-hate relationship with, although at this point emotions tend to run to hate. Baciocco calls it, "The bane of my existence" and Whitesides thinks it's more trouble than it's worth. Twitter, the 140-character microblogging site, is becoming a more fun and less stressful way to reach fans, (used, incidentally, by Baciocco, Whitesides, Beatnik Turtle's Jason Feehan, and Rockwell, who says, "There are words missing from the language to describe Twitter"). Each artist uses the site to connect with fans, announce shows, and just let people know what’s going on. Some get detailed about their lives, some don’t.

Beatnik Turtle, Coulton, and thousands of other bands also use Myxer, a free site that lets indie bands and other content providers create ringtones and deliver other content to users' cell phones. By accessing a unique code for the band on everything from a website to physical posters, fans can listen to the music from their phone and learn about the band immediately whether online or not.

The thing about the comedic bands – and many indie artists - is that they are not just sitting back. In addition to their music careers, they continue to work on their exposure online. Whitesides wants to bring social networking to his site, creating a Jody Whitesides network that allows his fans to meet, experience his music, and everything they can do on MySpace or Facebook, only on his web real estate. Baciocco thinks UStream, the live video streaming site, has a lot of promise for the future; as wifi becomes more readily available he likes the idea of streaming live shows and other performances, connecting with fans via Twitter or the chat in Ustream, making the show more dynamic.

In his book, Chertkow covers many aspects of surviving as in independent musician in the 21st century. But his number one piece of advice? "Lose the mentality that you must be discovered. You have to take responsibility of every aspect of being a musician. Take ownership of your entire music career."

I know there are tons of bands, both funny and not, that I didn’t cover here. If you want to discover some excellent funny music like Possible Oscar, The Gothsicles, and Carla Ulbrich, visit The Funny Music Project, or listen to Rockwell’s podcast, Manic Mondays, where he showcases funny music weekly. If you want a good resource for indie rock, Jody Whitesides has a blog, The Single of the Day where he gives exposure to other bands.

Mur Lafferty is an unapologetic geek, podcaster and author. Find out more about her and her projects at www.Murverse.com, and check out her first novel, Playing For Keeps, released via Swarm Press on August 25.

My memories of the several years I've attended the Vans Warped Tour are as foggy as the next person's, though there are a few that perforate the haze, still clear and shiny in all their awkward glory as if it were yesterday. I worked the tour in 2004 as a photographer, on assignment with
the Vandals to promote their album Hollywood Potato Chip. God only knows why, but as I stepped onto the tour bus I swung my camera bag into a plastic champagne glass, dousing their PlayStation with Mimosa. I can still feel Joe Escalante's penetrating stare. Second to shitting on the tour bus, this is as bad as it gets.

But somehow I survived, nailed the photo shoot and, save dodging a Frisbee from guitarist Warren Fitzgerald later that afternoon, made it out alive. I also traded some videographer my socks for a Pabst Blue Ribbon, but that's another story. It was, after all, just another day on the Warped Tour and these kinds of stories are nothing compared to those of the bands themselves.

"It wasn’t a bus, it was a transportable dance party," Tom DeLonge (ex-Blink 182, Angels & Airwaves) says about some of his fondest Warped memories. The year was 1997 and Blink 182 was crashing on founder Kevin Lyman's tour bus. "It was disco in the back and my bed was one of 23 bunks and I was like on the bottom floor next to everyone’s smelly shoes."

Tom continues, "I remember this kid we just picked up on the Warped Tour, or Kevin did, just out of nowhere. A cool kid, very much a stray, and he stayed on the bus. I remember at the time, Mark [Hoppus] from Blink jumped into his bunk naked -- on him -- and he was screaming for him to get off. He had to spit in Mark’s face [laughs] to get Mark off him. And that’s what I always think about the Warped Tour, it's full of great circus acts."

Mere days before the 2008 Warped Tour kicked off on June 20th in California, I met with DeLonge and some of the other circus acts at the Guitar Center in Hollywood for a special edition of the Guitar Center Sessions -- an educational program designed to encourage discussion amongst musicians and allow fans to seek career-fostering advice from the bands they look up to and admire.

Alongside DeLonge, the Guitar Center Sessions Warped panel included founder Kevin Lyman, Brett Gurewitz (Bad Religion, Epitaph Records founder), Philip Sneed (Story of the Year), Max Bemis (Say Anything), and Joe Escalante.

Back in the green room before the panel begins, neither a Mimosa nor Playstation in sight, Joe Escalante and I are chatting about what brought the Vandals back to the Warped Tour after several years absence. "To play the main stage at the Warped Tour, to me, is the pinnacle of punk rock," he insists. "Go beyond that and you're in some other business. But in the business of punk rock, Kevin has made it so this is the pinnacle. We’re just proud to be there and we feel lucky to come back again."

This year marks the Warped Tour's 14th summer bringing punk rock to kids across America, making it the longest running tour of its kind... ever.

Talking more with DeLonge and Kevin Lyman, I ask Lyman how the years have changed things for the tour and whether or not we can expect any more shenanigans on his bus à la Mark Hoppus' now infamous nude attack.

"My tour bus doesn’t quite break out as much," Lyman smiles. "I used to be a peer to everyone and we used to all hang out and get crazy, but now it's like I'm either a mentor or a disciplinarian in a lot of ways. Now it's more like band guys want to come and hang out under the tent, drink PBR, or play poker. But it usually doesn’t digress into trying to jump a BMX over a picnic table."

I thank the guys for their time and let them get ready for the panel, due to start any minute. I can already hear the swarm of fans talking excitedly in the makeshift auditorium outside the green room door.

As the band members make their way towards the stage, the crowd erupts, and my ears are met with a deafening roar. It becomes clear that the Warped Tour is far from slowing (or quieting) down anytime soon. I think back to what DeLonge had told me just moments before, "The Warped Tour will never go away. It will just get better and better."

For more information on Guitar Center Sessions go here, and for the latest on the Warped Tour go here.

Also, check out pics from the panel below.


Brett Gurewitz (Bad Religion, Epitaph Records founder)


Tom DeLonge (Ex-Blink 182, Angels & Airwaves)


Tom DeLonge and Joe Escalante (The Vandals, Kung Fu Records founder)


Tom DeLonge, Joe Escalante, Brett Gurewitz


Kevin Lyman (founder of the Warped Tour), Max Bemis (Say Anything), Philip Sneed (Story of the Year)

Photos courtesy of Girlie Action and Guitar Center Sessions.

Something is afoot in the dank D.I.Y. venues of New York. It seems like almost overnight, the stupid-happy, rainbow-colored, Sesame Street-themed, keyboard party punk thing is dying down and being replaced by its exact opposite. This new experimental stuff is tough to categorize, but much of it incorporates some kind of metal influence, either in sound or spirit. Metal at its best, as you know, is neither stupid, nor simple, nor happy, but dark, evil, and really tough to play. For this reason, it lacks the ironic delivery that’s upped the obnoxious factor of many Brooklyn musicians; who in their right mind is going to practice their finger work ten hours a day to play music they consider a joke? Not this guy.

As Hunter from Liturgy points out in his blog, metal thrives on contradictions. Black metal has its roots in ancient pagan myth, but looks forward to the ultimate dismantling of society. Avant-garde metal adds an extra layer of modernism (or is it postmodernism?) with its indexical experiments in form; this music has essentially zero one-to-one correspondence with the world, but exists as self-reflexive thought: music about music about music. This hall of mirrors can be fucking scary to enter, but also rewarding, so crawl down the hole of my subjective memory and maybe you’ll find something to love.

Thursday 6/12 @ Death by Audio

Liturgy



This one-man band is the solo project of Hunter Hunt-Hendrix of The Birthday Boyz. (Full disclosure: Hunter is my friend. Try not to confuse us for one another). You can read the theories behind the music in his philosophy blog, but basically, a liturgy can be any manner of ritualized public prayer, and Hunt-Hendrix takes that theme and runs with it. The songs are constructed from looped sounds that, taken separately, are simple enough, but quickly build into something dense enough to make your head spin. The music has range; he’s trying out a new idea in each song. In one piece, he systematically piles one guitar line on top of another until the density reaches critical mass to tip a flood of barely-human screams from his vocal chords. Another juxtaposes time signatures against each other with mathematical precision. I tried to discern the underlying numbers, but after a while realized I was probably counting wrong anyway and just let it wash over me; the tension between these two ways of listening are issues that crop up often. In another song, Hunt-Hendrix puts the guitar away and bravely uses only his voice to create layers of chants that weave together until they’re a deafening swarm, reminding me of the postmodern vocal tapestries of György Ligeti.

Liturgy is one of a small group of exciting metal deconstruction projects that have been doing all kinds of cool things lately, and it’s a shame Ben Ratliff of The New York Times couldn’t get to the last big show in time to include him in this feature and prevent some chick on a porn site from scooping him on the next transcendental black metal sensation.

Extra Life



This is great music for anyone who, like me, will always be a goth at heart, but whose tastes have broadened somewhat since she last laid on the floor of her parents’ house crying to NIN (shut up). They draw from all over the musical map to create songs that fluctuate in a weird, clever way. A single song can sound simultaneously like an Elizabethan madrigal with its lilting vocals, free jazz with its syncopated crashes, and death rock with its relentless beat and ominous violin. The songs go from creepily quiet to frighteningly loud in a way reminiscent of Xiu Xiu, except vocalist Charlie Looker has more versatility and sweetness to his voice than Jamie Stewart, especially when obsessively repeating lines like “I can only sing one thing, one thing/every dream is the same dream, same dream.” Each song creates an open-ended narrative for Looker’s voice to wander through, traversing a bipolar spectrum of moods ranging from happy-ish, to pissed off, to stone-cold dispassionate, to utterly insane. Sometimes he sounds a bit like Maynard James Keenan, in a good way.

Little Women



This is some serious avant-garde shit. I wasn’t sure I’d be into their “noise-jazz” but as soon as I heard them at a house show a couple weeks ago, I was hooked. Not because they’re catchy, but because I needed to take some time with the music if I was going to try to wrap my feeble brain around it. This band combines instruments that don’t normally go together, namely two blasting saxophones (Darius Jones and Travis Laplante), Jason Nazary’s erratic drumming, and Ben Greenberg’s sweet custom guitar, which spits out complicated melody lines with the distinctness and harsh timbre of speed metal. I saw folks attempting to nod along, but the most fitting movement you could probably do to it is that little kid spazz-dance where you move every body part haphazardly as if engaged in a seizure. Unfortunately, nobody did this.

All the reviews I’ve read of this group refer to them as “terrifying,” “horrifically complex”, “throttling” and many other synonyms for “unpleasant.” I think what these folks are reacting to, more than the sheer force of noise, is the music’s unfamiliarity. Like many modern composers, they’ve broken away from the practice of following the human body’s natural rhythms and scales to create a visceral, almost uncanny discomfort in the listener that’s different from the feelings inspired by equally raucous but simpler modes, like punk and hardcore. I’m reminded of a study Dr. Susan Wagner did on the effects of music on dogs, which found jazz and complex classical music created more disturbance in the animals than a simple, harmony-less, major piece in 4/4. The same thing is going on here, except we have worse hearing than dogs and are less likely to leak pee when distressed. To attempt to follow each note and be-bop/no wave sax bleat causes serious sensory overload.

Fortunately for Little Women, the human world is populated with a small number of weirdos who enjoy this experience. The fear is made manifest when their set ends with both saxophonists down on the ground conjuring otherworldly roars from their instruments that sound alternately like dying dinosaurs, sexually enraged monsters, and the unseen rumbling terror from Mark Danielewski’s terrifying novel, House of Leaves. The first time I saw them, they turned out all the lights for this part, and I almost shat my onesie. Don’t bring your kids.

Bloody Panda



The most straightforward metal act of the night. After all the craziness preceding them it was nice to get a little break from active listening, but I was exhausted by this point, and their normal time signatures, pounding drums and drony, stretched out riffs made me lean sleepily against the wall. They get extra points for spooky executioner costumes, a powerful female vocalist, and a name that describes them perfectly, preparing fans to experience the devil’s music sung by an adorably insane Asian female. I’d like to see them again when I’m feeling more awake.

Friday 6/13 @ Death by Audio:

Best Fwends

This band stuck out like a sore thumb (ok, technically it was only half the band that night, but whatever). From the cutesy name to the electronic tracks with lyrics like “What’re you doing in my car?/What’re you doing in my car?” the whole thing made me feel like I’d eaten one too many Vegan Treats donuts. The kids were all jumping moistly up and down like they were at a Dan Deacon show, but it was way too hot for me to waste any of my precious fluids doing that. I still respect some folks in the genre, like Deacon, for their facility with sampled sound and getting crowds happy, but when something becomes a trend, most of its hangers-on inevitably suck, and this was made even more apparent when juxtaposed with Pterodactyl’s epic greatness. I think I’d like Best Fwends better at outdoor venue McCarren Pool; the shows there are more about hanging out than listening to music, and if I get hot and bored, there’s a water slide(!)

Pterodactyl


Photo by Nate Dorr

I should mention that this show was a zombie party in honor of Friday the 13th, and that’s why everyone looked so scary. Pterodactyl seems to sound different each time I hear them, and Calamity agrees with me, so I must be right. Much like an actual pterodactyl, their tunes this time were heavy, carnivorous, and awesome. Some guy was running around squirting everyone with a water gun to cool them off, which was nice until I caught a blast straight to the face. Semi-blind from tears and melted makeup, I swayed back and forth and tried to fine-tune my listening in the absence of distracting visuals. The high pitched vocals and occasional harmonies make for more accessible noise rock, and by the end of the set everyone was thrashing around regardless of how sweaty and gross they already were (it was approximately one million degrees in there).


Photo by Nate Dorr

Saturday 6/14 @ Monkeytown:

Ocrilim

This dude’s set took one aspect of metal, the almighty solo, and stretched it into a twenty minute finger workout. As impressed as I was with his endurance, virtuosity, and ability to remember so very many notes, I can’t say I exactly enjoyed it. Luckily, Monkeytown is oddly comfortable for a place that throws shows like this, and I sank further into the couch as I enjoyed the AC, sipped a cool beverage, and munched some veggie paté on a baguette. Does this mean I'm getting old and bourgeois? Whatever, man. Someday, when I am frail and wealthy, I’ll be extra glad there’s at least one place where I can hear interesting music without endangering my physical happiness. And the paté was delicious, so fuck you. Added bonus: you can sit on the toilet seats!

Zs



I know most of these bands are hard to describe, but this one takes the cake. At present, it’s a three-piece consisting of Sam Hillmer, Ian Antonio, and Ben Greenberg (the same Ben from Little Women). Out of all the bands I saw this past weekend, I think Zs is the most likely to end up in the curriculum of a Western music class; though they’re a part of the Brooklyn rock scene, they have more in common with modernist composers like John Cage and Phillip Glass. Shifting time signatures, invented scales, and long, oddly structured pieces give them an academic feel, but I don’t want to imply that they're at all stuffy. These are still dirty Brooklyn kids after all, and they attacked their composition with an energy not usually found in the halls of academia. Howard Stern just spent a week hating on them after somehow getting his dirty hands on their last album, so I expect that they’re about to get a lot more famous. I think Robin secretly liked them, and I will not be surprised if she follows through on her joking promise to use Zs for the intro to her news segments.

So there you have it: all types of weird shit to blow your fucking mind. Move over, Matt and Kim. It's nothing personal. Your paper-thin party songs might beat cold, lifeless indie rock, but there's a little guy named scissors headed your way, and we all know what he's made of.

There is a shit ton of good music out right now. If I didn’t have a job to go to, I would sit in my room all day reading blogs, acquiring new tunes, and doing the Elaine dance with my headphones on. In the future, all work will be done by robots, jet packs will take care of any necessary locomotion, and my dream will be a glorious reality. Until then, I will continue staying up too late so I can hunt down (harr harr) everything that’s aurally awesome, then listen to it to keep from falling asleep during those loathsome daytime hours. I’ve made a list of new music I’ve been enjoying in the hopes that you, the Internet, will enjoy it too.

Man Man
Rabbit Habits

Ever wonder what it would sound like if Tom Waits got his heart broken, drank a bottle of whiskey, hijacked a vaudeville brass band at knifepoint, then got in a rumble with Frank Zappa and some gypsies in the basement of a dirty, West Philly punk house? Though nothing in this world is as crazy as that (thank goodness), this album comes close. With horn flourishes, accordion, fiddle, crashing percussion, and xylophones that will make you picture skeletons dancing, this album walks a fine line between artistry and kitsch, but lead singer Honus Honus’ emotional authenticity keeps it from teetering over the edge. Whether he’s mourning his own romantic misfortunes (the frantic “Ballad of Butter Beans”), calling out a femme fatale headed for an early grave (the jazzy, slow-building “Hey Jackie”), or expressing his less savory desires (on “Top Drawer” he rasps, “People claim I’m possessed by the devil/But mama, I know I’m possessed by your daughter”), his imperfect voice both croons and snags; he is equal parts evil ringmaster and sad, lonely spectator. Though they sometimes veer into cheesy Tim Burton territory, the group choruses are thankfully closer to a chain gang than a gothic kick line most of the time. Some of the best moments come when all that camp is juxtaposed with darker sentiments; “You strut like a stallion/but you fuck like a mule” would probably make your girlfriend cry if you said it to her, but Honus sells it as downright festive. The group’s excellent live show is louder than the album but just as tight; a participatory melodrama led by maniacs in white outfits and war paint. Go see it.

Portishead
Third

I understand if you are skeptical about listening to this for fear of having a '90s relapse. I was much affected by their spooky/sexy music back in the day; I didn’t even think to touch myself until I started listening to Dummy, and then before I knew it, funny-strange (not funny ha-ha) things were happening to me like breasts, pimples and the perverse urge to see a penis. That was horrible enough at the time -- God forbid I should be forced to re-live it via a mid-late-90s, trip-hop revival. Why not call Tricky and have a reunion tour while we’re at it?

Good news: the band hasn’t been living in a time capsule for the last 11 years. Darker, heavier, and with far different timbres, the only recognizable elements are Beth Gibbons’ expressive, quavery voice and a general commitment to innovation. The samples that once formed the basis for their sound have mostly been eschewed in favor of live instruments, drum machines, and bizarre synths. The excellent “Machine Gun” is true to its title in a chilly, Krautrock way, and “Nylon Smile” delivers with a tensely stretched arrangement of plunky drums, guitar, and electronic squeaks. The brutal cymbals and low, menacing keys on “Plastic” sound downright dissonant, as does Gibbons’ voice at times, giving me hope that this album will be more resistant than the last to being co-opted by Hollywood as a backing track against which strippers in movies make their sexy establishing shots.

Gibbons uses her full range this time around, sounding alternately angelic, demonic, frightening and frightened. Sometimes her voice fades into the mix as if just another instrument, like with her computer enhanced performance in “The Rip”. Conversely, when she’s marooned in a capella territory, you feel like it’s your heart and not hers she’s liquefied and poured into your ear. But the most important question of all is, is Portishead still baby making music? Maybe, if you’re weird. Try it and report back.

No Age
Nouns

This album rules so hard. It’s loud and fast like punk, and the band's live shows are certainly mosh-inspiring, but there’s something else going on here. Fuzzy distortion jams on opener “Miner” hint at Sonic Youth’s experimentalism, while “Teen Creeps”, with its poppy opening chords, manages to be both catchy and complex. “Things I Did When I Was Dead” is a great exercise in counterpoint, with its off-key sampled bleep mimicking that of a (slightly janky) EKG machine while effects on the vocals make them sound like they’re coming from six feet under and sunny guitar chords jangle away obliviously. And that's only the beginning! This is definitely an album that rewards repeat listens.

I saw these guys twice in the same day at SXSW, first at the Pitchfork day party, then around 3 a.m. at a giant party on a bridge where everyone was hopped up on something, and both times were equally insane. These guys know how to bring it. I also just found out they’re vegans, which makes me like them even more. Someday I will have them over for dinner and feed their faces with tofu until they are too bloated to run around cheerfully destroying things, as the songs on this record would seem to demand.

Black Mountain
In the Future

Burn this for your dad! From the Zeppelin-tinged opener “Stormy High” to the disaffected, Pink Floyd-esque “Tyrants”, to the witchy psychedelic “Wucan”, to the Sabbath-y stoner-metal jam “Evil Ways”, this album takes a tour through the best of rock-and-roll history. Do you miss the spooky keyboard lines of the Doors? How about the sexy wailing of Robert Plant? It’s all there in one convenient package. One might be tempted to cut out the middleman and just listen to Zeppelin, but there are some scattered elements to distinguish In the Future from the past. In the tracks on which she sings, Amber Webber’s creepy vocals sound decidedly modern (think Feist possessed by Cthulu), and the sound effects on some songs veer a little towards sounding like a Nintendo game. There is also something to be said for the power of time and place; you can’t go see Zeppelin tear up a basement in Brooklyn, now can you? Smoke a bowl, let the sounds wash over you, and chillax about whether it’s original.

The Kills
Midnight Boom

This is the record to play when you’re blow drying your bangs stick straight and pouting into the mirror in an effort to convince yourself that yes, you actually are that fucking cool. Then, if you’re anything like me, you catch a glimpse of yourself shaking your be-pantied derriere and remember you’re a dork. The perfectly sparse opener “U.R.a. Fever” is a constellation of sampled telephone sounds, handclaps, bluesy his-and-hers vocals, and teen rebellion assertions like “We are a fever/We ain’t born typical.” Most of the songs rely on a similar formula of simple lyrics, chilled out vocals, well-placed electronic sounds, and catchy choruses. Some songs go beyond that, though, like “Last Day of Magic”, which builds in a more intricate way that recalls Of Montreal’s “The Past is a Grotesque Animal”. Some of the lyrics border on inane (“he’s the alphabet pony”? O RLY?) but if this bothers you, you can ignore them and pretend they’re nonsense syllables.

Some naysayers hold it against singer Alison “VV” Mossheart that she used to be a chubby teenager in a Florida pop punk band, and now she’s a thin twenty-something in an indie-blues-electro-whatever band who thinks she’s English. These people are just jealous. Maybe next she’ll be a sexually mature thirty-something in an acid jazz band with an affinity for Brazil, and she would rock then, too. Haters can go cry into an issue of Star on the elliptical trainer.

All right, porn friends, now it’s your turn. What’s been making your ears happy lately?

It's no secret that Trent Reznor is awesome. He's brought industrial music to the forefront and given the dark side of ourselves a kickass soundtrack. Pretty Hate Machine, The Downward Spiral, The Fragile, With Teeth, Year Zero, Ghosts I-IV, and now, we have The Slip, the newest, and might I add, free album.

That's right, this one's on Trent:

That's the word from the website. How fucking cool is that? A whole goddamn new album, free to download. All the major music outlets are buzzing with the news. And rightfully so. Not only is NIN one of the biggest musical acts ever (side note: they turn 20 next year), but ever since leaving Interscope, his former label, Trent has gone through a sort of Renaissance in terms of musical output. Back in March, he dropped Ghosts on us, an incredible instrumental album that, when released online, crashed the servers due to the immense traffic it generated. I shuffled into work the next morning a zombie because I stayed up all night waiting on my download. And just a couple weeks ago, we were treated to a free download of the single "Discipline" and a cryptic message that said "Two weeks." Naturally, fans were up in arms about this. Two weeks till what? More tour dates? Another album? God help me, the suspense is unbearable!!! And so, at midnight PDT May 5th (actually, just a little after, I noticed), Trent gave us "The Slip," an inspired and very danceable effort.

From the site:

This one, like 'Ghosts' before it, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share-Alike agreement, and of course, you can remix it if you so choose. Hell, after you download it, you'll get a page where you can email three of your friends a download link. Spread it all around, share it with everyone. Get a listen here. And how much money does TR stand to make? We won't know till the physical sales numbers are released. All I can say is that he must be very confident in making up that money in other ways. He made over a million dollars easy in the week after 'Ghosts' was released, just through online sales.

Here's the tracklisting:

Yeah, it's short, but it's great. I'll leave the discussion of its merits in SG's very own NIN group (join if you haven't). What I'm excited for are the setlists for the upcoming tour. With all this new music, are the shows gonna be 3 hours long? Not that it would bother me, but it may prove a logistical nightmare for the band and crew. Speaking of touring, go register with nin.com if you'd like to get presale tix. It's a new system they're using, and here's their logic:

Once again, check the performance page for the show dates/times/locations and presale info.

While I, like others, lament the decline of traditional record stores and the physical media they provide (there's just something about actually holding an album), I do embrace the new path that NIN and others (i.e. Radiohead) are blazing with digital downloads, and the subsequent closer, more direct relationship with fans that normally would be blocked by the record labels. The times change and we must change with them. For some opinions on this brave new world we are entering, check out David Byrne and Thom Yorke in Wired Magazine.

Does your town suck? Are you bored as hell? Got a band but no place to play? Or maybe you live in a city where the only venues to see live music are greedy, stuck-up clubs that make local bands pay-to-play and hate you for being poor and/or under 21 (you dirty little criminal). Through exhaustive research, I have compiled a list of tips to help you and your clever, creative friends build your very own D.I.Y. scene using only a second-hand P.A., your dad's guitar, some punk rock chutzpah, and several un-bent paperclips. 



I asked my friend Todd Patrick, better known as Todd P, to advise me on how it's done. He's been putting together shows since high school, and at 32, knows a thing or two about doing it yourself. After throwing events in Austin, Texas during college and then running an all-ages club in Portland, Oregon for a few years, he made his way to New York and single-handedly built an energetic, eclectic scene in the crumbling neighborhoods of North Brooklyn. Through a combination of charisma and reliability, Todd can make people open their ears and give his weird line-ups a chance. Or, as an anonymous denizen of the scene put it, "He could put his name on a polka party and people would show up."




The crowd at one of Todd P's shows (photo courtesy of Impose Magazine)

Patrick is at an all-ages punk show in New Brunswick, New Jersey when I call him on the phone. This might come as a surprise considering that, as one of the premiere curators in the Brooklyn underground scene, he's known for his impeccable, avant-garde taste. He'd never book a straight-up pop punk, ska, emo, or hardcore band. And yet there he is, rocking out to those very genres alongside the kids. "It's a rowdy, awesome rock and roll show," he shouts above the noise.

Patrick respects the people who make fun happen, regardless of whether their tastes align with his. "Local shows are the last vestige of real, straightforward community art for middle class people in this country," he tells me. "Everything else is controlled by an industry…music is the last one where people can literally put a band together, start playing, and the community votes with their feet and their dollar to see who they endorse and that is who the industry has to pick from. There's no other form in this country that's like that anymore.”


Deerhunter at Market Hotel (photo courtesy of Impose Magazine)

His desire to make this community mojo happen is sincere, and it shows. The myth that Brooklyn's avant-rockers are too cool to dance is shattered as soon as you step inside one of his sweaty, raucous warehouse operations. People get all up in your shit, in a good way. It's a visceral respite from the cold, corporate city in which we must all behave in order to make a living. Patrick has presented a laundry list of great musicians over the years: Aa, Deerhunter, Xiu Xiu, the Dirty Projectors, Dan Deacon, YACHT, and High Places are just a few bands who have graced his stages and subsequently gained increasing recognition, thanks in part to him. "That makes it fun," he says with no small amount of pride. "You have an impact on your community, spotlighting people you think have talent and helping make certain people rise…that's how you improve the national culture." A culture which, let's be honest, is in need of some serious rehabilitation at the moment. 



You need to put in a goodly amount of time before you can go about improving the national culture, but the good news is that anyone can do it. "It does not involve anything you can go to school for," Patrick says. So here it is, a list of advice gleaned from the master for building a happening D.I.Y. anti-empire from nothing.



Locate a Location



This can initially be tricky. Luckily, you are tricky too. Drive around looking for un-used spaces, investigating anything that looks promising. Warehouses, backyards, basements, and empty lots can all be put to good use. All you need is electricity, or barring that, make it an acoustic show. Find out who (if anyone) owns the space you fancy, and be persistent. Todd P's first show was in an abandoned lounge above a coffee shop in Austin: "I asked the owner, and he said no. I asked manager, and she gave me the keys." And once you've put on a few good events, he says, "the offers come out of the woodwork." A house here, a rooftop there, and before you know it you're drowning in rock love. This is especially helpful if you need to move a show at the last minute for whatever reason.



Find Talented Talent



It might make sense to have your friends' bands play; scenes are all about friendship, right? That all depends if you want your shows to actually be good. If you're into your friends' tunes, by all means give them a shot. But don't be afraid to cast a wide net in search of that perfectly bizarre band to play your party. Patrick recommends "random MySpace checks; search for bands who sound like bands you already like, or check out their friend lists.” Also, get to concerts on time and “see who opens for your favorites…those are people you can probably get.” He continues, "Put your heart and soul into it…stuff you find interesting, and sooner or later touring bands are calling. You do a good job, people appreciate it. Learn by trying."



Matt and Kim get happy in a temporary warehouse space (photo courtesy of Impose Magazine).

Broaden Your Taste



No one is going to stop you from booking the 1,000th Black Flag clone your high school has produced, but for a bit of artistic freshness, look to Todd P's shows as an example. There's no obvious commonality between the bands he picks; in a single night, you might hear the curious, tinkling loops of High Places, the incantatory ghost punk of These Are Powers, and the pounding electro-metal of Genghis Tron. None of these bands sound like each other, but none of them sound like anything you've heard before, either. "You can be really great at what you do," says Patrick, "but if it doesn't strike my ear as fresh, I don't care about it. If it's a new idea, I usually like it. I'm easily bored." If nobody likes your oddball choices, they can throw their own damn shows. Some bands take warming up to, but assuming your selections are intelligent, people will come around. "There's a lot of bands that a few years ago would have been too weird for people to appreciate who are getting big now," says Patrick with the joy of a man vindicated. In time, the world will catch up with your genius. 



Don't fight the law, 'cause the law will win

When I ask how to deal with the cops, he says it’s simple, really: "Don’t attract them." Choose an out of the way place where either the neighbors are chill with parties, or there are no neighbors. This is harder in big cities where everyone lives on top of each other, but even New York still has under-used or abandoned sites. Of the last 400 shows he’s thrown, Patrick says maybe seven have been shut down. Use your common sense to determine where people should not be allowed to go. “Make sure your patrons aren’t destroying the neighborhood. Don’t drink in the street, piss, etc. The kind of stuff you wouldn’t wanna see in your front yard.” And don’t be afraid to get in their faces about it; a few assholes should not be allowed to ruin everyone’s good time. If the cops do show up, be polite. Arguing with them won’t get you anywhere but jail, and wouldn’t you rather go to an after party at someone’s house than jail?



Keep it all-ages

“It’s classic discrimination to say someone who the government calls an adult isn’t allowed to see music because it’s wrapped up in alcohol,” Patrick says, pointing out a logical inconsistency that’s become the norm. There’s beer everywhere at baseball games, and that’s ok, “but if you’re watching shows, someone bad’s gonna get you.” Though it may be a slight added hassle to worry about having minors present, it kind of defeats the point if you don’t let them in. “Rock is youth culture, it always has been. To exclude under-21 pretty much kills off the scene.” And giving kids things to do is constructive to the community. “They take away the right to congregate, kids turn to things that are worse than drinking or going to a rock show.” Think back on all the dumb shit you did as a teenager that got you in trouble. Don’t you wish you’d been too busy rocking out to stick those fireworks in the cat’s butt?

Don't rape wallets

“Places seem to bleed money,” says Patrick. “I think you should make shows cheap, and keep them quality.” Try to keep the cover charge under $10. If you keep a low overhead, you should be able to pay the bands a decent amount after covering the cost of your crappy PA rental. “The majority should go to the bands, because that’s why people pay to see shows.” Take only a celebratory pittance for yourself. You’re in this for love. “It’s not good for grassroots culture” to exclude poor ass college students and other people who can’t afford high ticket prices. If you want piles of money, become an i-banker or open a horrible club that charges eight dollars for a Budweiser, and see how much fun you have.


No Age fucks up Silent Barn (photo courtesy of Impose Magazine).

Don't write off NYC

Despite lawmakers’ best efforts, New York still has one of the most exciting scenes of anywhere. It only took me a few stops on my recent tour to realize there’s no place quite like Brooklyn in terms of energy, turn out, and general joie de vivre. Sayeth Todd Patrick: “There are amazing musicians here, a lot of really good vibes. People are hungry for new things. They love to absorb and enjoy art forms of all kinds. Everyone is interested in culture.” This benefits promoters and musicians alike. “If you are talented and you’re putting your stuff out,” Patrick says, “you will find some level of success in New York. You can be an awesome person in small towns and find nobody to care. If you are good in New York, you’re a national band.” Suck it up, get a job, find a place, work to party.



Don't write off East Buttfuck, USA, either

If you are stuck somewhere that’s not New York or any other place with a thriving scene (L.A., Chicago, Atlanta, Baltimore, Austin, Portland…the list goes on), chances are you are still in high school (if not, perhaps it’s time to move out; it’s nice to be able to have sexy time without worrying your mom will hear.) But even if your local culture is legally dead, you can still attract talent. Don’t be afraid to ask bands from nearby cities to come out; you’ve got the mystique of the unknown on your side. Your shitty town is an exotic adventure in the countryside to them; they will come “because it sounds interesting.” And a town that was previously a cultural wasteland will appreciate you much more for your efforts. “You can really make an impact,” says Patrick. “I won’t say it’s easy, but it’s something anyone is capable of…and people will respond because there’s so little shit of any consequence happening in America.”



Have fun!


There’s no need to be a perfectionist. "If it doesn't work out, it's just a rock show,” Patrick reminds me. “No one's gonna die if you can't hear the vocals. Ultimately, the stakes aren't that high. Everything's got a learning curve.” So grab your friends, make some fliers, and see how far you can take it. You’ve got nothing to lose but your crushing suburban ennui.



Dan Deacon at Todd P's birthday show (photo courtesy of Impose Magazine).


A rare snap of the man himself (photo courtesy of Impose Magazine).

Maynard James Keenan doesn't do many interviews. But when he does, one thing is certain: it is never your run of the mill chit chat. Last October, SuicideGirls hopped a plane to the Tool frontman's Arizona vineyard and got some amazing insights into winemaking, his creative process, and his latest multimedia, multi-personality project, Puscifer. More recently, last week Maynard stopped by SGHQ for some lively conversation about Puscifer's newest album, V is for Viagra: the Vagina Remixes, out today, April 29th.

"I, personally, have only done Viagra once," Maynard revealed. "I took a half a tab and it did nothing. Later that night I took the other half and it did nothing. By the time it actually kicked in I was actually at the airport going through security. Not a fun situation."

With V is for Viagra, Maynard wanted to "abandon the idea of the songs being finite" and enlisted an array of musicians to tackle the remixes including Paul Barker (Ministry), Lustmord, Michael Patterson, Aaron Turner (Isis), Danny Lohner (Nine Inch Nails), and Dave Ogilvie (Skinny Puppy), among others. With titles like "Desert Porn Mix", "Disco Viagra Mix", "Guns for Hire Mix", and "Dirty Robot Mix", the resulting tracks are as varied and unique as the minds that created them.

James and Chloe Suicide sat down with Maynard at SGHQ where he answered a few questions about the remixes, Puscifer's touring plans, and the new "DoZo" music video, which confirms that dildos do in fact make excellent weapons.

Watch the hilarity ensue and check out Puscifer's YouTube for a special, alternate version...


Dozo Music Video, directed by Meats Meier.

Los Angeles International Airport... en route to SXSW... I sit on the floor of the terminal, waiting to board, hoodie pulled over my eyes to avoid the wait-at-the-gate small talk, when over the loud speaker comes the nasal whine of an airport attendant, "Last boarding call for passenger Vince Vaughn... Vince Vaughn this is your last boarding call for flight [redacted] [redacted] departing to [redacted] [redacted]..." I peer up through a tangle of my hair to catch Vince Vaughn himself, within seconds, come barreling out of a bar... hauling ass down the walkway towards his gate. And I think he has the right idea; I should be in that bar, preparing for this monster music festival that is going to hit me like a tsunami the minute I land in Austin, Texas.

But that was three weeks ago now, and the SXSW 2008 Music Festival has wrapped and left town. Packed into four non-stop days were 1,580 bands, hundreds of panel discussions, and what felt like a million bloggers scouring the city and leaving no beer-stained flyer unturned. What started in 1987 as a who's who of up and coming artists has transformed into perhaps the largest, annual music festival and media gathering this side of Rick Rubin's living room.

Ahem, so let's get started. This year I decided to liven things up a bit and forgo the pen and notepad for something with more of a pulse, per se. So, armed with a video camera and handy SG mic that doubled as a baton if needed, I took to the guitar pick-strewn streets to chat up some talent. There were the bands that stole my heart, and the bands that stole my cabs. There were SGs I couldn't wait to meet, ex-lovers I couldn't wait to avoid and, by the end of each night, a hotel bed I couldn't wait to throw myself in. My partner in crime, Hunter, filled you all in last week with her recap of the week's events, so now some SGTV video footage to round out this year's music week coverage.



First up, Hunter landed a curbside interview outside of Spiro's with metal band Black Tide to chat about SXSW babes, their debut album Light From Above and what it was like getting kicked off Ozzfest for being underage.



That night, I made camp at the Definitive Jux showcase at the Scoot Inn and talked with label head and hip-hop artist EL-P about signing Dizzee Rascal and Del the Funky Homosapien. I also sat down with Del himself to chat about his new album, The 11th Hour, and being one of what he calls, "the nephews of funk."



Later, Hunter covered some distance as she talked to UK imports British Sea Power, new Austin local Ladyfingers and LA's Barrio Tiger about SXSW survival tips.



I also tracked down John Reis (Rocket from the Crypt, Drive Like Jehu) to talk about his new band, The Night Marchers, before they took the stage at a Vice party.



On our last night in Austin, we partied with SuicideGirls Selket, Illyria, Zak and Sheila at the Indie 103.1 FM showcase (home of SG Radio) at the Cedar St. Courtyard, where the station had been broadcasting live all week.



Zak and Sheila talked to band Io Echo and got the scoop on their upcoming collaboration with She Wants Revenge, while Selket met up with The Airborne Toxic Event backstage to talk about their recent success and playing SXSW for the first time.

It has always been frustrating for me to read new CD reviews … What are the critics saying about ____? The more important questions have always seemed to be Who are these critics and Why should I be interested in their value judgments?

So much of modern culture revolves around codifying, describing, and categorizing art products, arguing for the supremacy of one product, one CD, one painting over the other. We send our opinions into battle as logical concepts with Kant smiling in his grave over our ambiguous taste; we too smile – smiles of silent contentment about knowing the truth, understanding the right answer, possessing good taste, having a better appreciation of the artistic facts than the man next door.

It’s unavoidable, really, both the observation and experience of these phenomena, but today let us appreciate the fact that we will not have to do this with the new Nine Inch Nails material. I won’t tell you that the songs are good or that the songs are bad, that NIN has improved over time or has become rubbish. I won’t write that way because Nine Inch Nails' Ghosts doesn’t ask to be critiqued in such a manner.

Nine Inch Nails, oh, Nine Inch Nails. We’ve seen you practically establish the industrial rock genre. We’ve been wowed by your live performances. We watched as you won multiple Grammy Awards. And, now, seven studio albums later, we’ve witnessed you really and truly probe the creative process. And that very idea is what this article focuses on: the artistic process entailed in producing Ghosts, NIN’s latest work. And, reader, you will soon understand why… why this thematic focus is practically necessitated.



The material was released on March 2nd via NIN.com. That website has also recently announced some dates for an extensive tour that begins in July and will be promoting the new tracks.

These songs. How were they made; how did they come about? Well, Trent Reznor has released several audio clips of him discussing that very process. The tracks certainly weren’t intended or anticipated; they just happened. “Much to our surprise,” Reznor says, “we ended up with thirty-six tracks.” Thirty-six tracks. Thirty-six tracks in ten weeks. TR had given himself a ten week timeframe within which to create, essentially, anything. One song might have come out, or one hundred. With the time period as the only structured preconception, Reznor was free to create. Free to do as he pleased. And a significant portion of this freedom is attributed to being without a record label, as he states, “I wouldn’t have been as comfortable trying to pull [this] off on a major label…something I wanted to do…that felt exciting and different and kind of fun.” This album is the band’s first that has not been released by Interscope since 1989’s Pretty Hate Machine. Without limitations imposed by a label, TR was able to avoid the effort of funneling his music into a pop song mold.

The freedom involved in the composition process, which engendered songs that may likewise be described as free, went something like this… Reznor would sit down and picture a visual image; he would conjure up some vision and then attempt to create it with sound. The end results, he says, “[are] basically soundtracks to daydreams” that formed as he “just pictured something in [his] head.” This idea is similar to European classical program music that in