SHOW REVIEW: School of Seven Bells

Tuesday night School of Seven Bells played the first of two sold-out shows at the Mercury Lounge, and thanks to the miracle of Craigslist, the AudioFemme editors were in attendance. The date was of particular significance to the band, as it coincided with the release of their phenomenal third album, Ghostory.  

The year between Ghostory’s release and that of 2010’s Disconnect From Desire was fraught with change for SVIIB, seeing the somewhat mysterious departure of Claudia Deheza.  For a band whose sound and image hinged on the dual vocals and dramatic image of twins Alejandra and Claudia, the parting of ways carried with it many unanswered questions, and is still a sensitive topic that the band does not like to broach.  As longtime fans of SVIIB, we at AudioFemme were interested to see how the band would evolve and adapt. With little idea what to expect from the new album or subsequent live performances in support of it, we're happy to report that on both fronts, all is well.

L: It had been a while since I’d seen SVIIB, the last time being at a CMJ showcase in 2008 at Le Poisson Rouge.  At that time, Alpinisms was coming out or had just been released and I was obsessed with it.  I begged my way into the showcase for discounted admission and was treated to one of the loudest, most psychedelic live experiences I’d had to that point.  It was my first CMJ and I remember feeling so alive and thankful to be in NYC, and nothing embodied that feeling more than SVIIB’s intoxicating set.  It is crazy to think of how many years have passed since then, and even more baffling that I’ve somehow missed every other date they’ve played in the city.

Seeing them at Mercury Lounge was a real reminder of what I’d been missing.  They’re such a solid live band.  It was about halfway through the set, after a particularly rousing tune from the new album, that Ben said “Let’s get this party started” and even though the audience was a bit reluctant to do so (it was an early show, after all) all of the set list was dance-worthy.  Their performances are imbued with this sort of mystical element.  Alley has this shamanistic sort of presence, which her style definitely lends itself to - for last night’s show she was decked in silver chains and shimmery white eye-makeup.  But it’s not just a costume. Her face and voice are so expressive, pleading, and powerful.  The songs become incantations, invitations to let everything go.  They played a nice mix of old and new jams, but it all blended together seamlessly, which speaks volumes not just about strength of the music but also the ability of the band to grow and change and transcend any challenges or hardships or confusion that may have occurred in dealing with Claudia’s absence.  Adeptly filling her shoes was keyboardist Allie Alvarado, a D.C. - based performer who has released solo material under the moniker Painted Face and has played guitar with Brooklyn-based electronica outfit Telepathe. Even on their iconic dual-vocaled hit, “Half Asleep” she stepped up to the challenge beautifully and enthusiastically. Video for the track is below, followed by Annie's ruminations on the set.

A: Holy shit. I was truly floored by this performance. I don’t know exactly what’s changed so significantly about them in the interim months since last I saw them live (I’ve probably been to the bulk of their New York shows since Disconnect came out two years ago), but I have my suspicions. And though I’ve always loved going to see them play, there was something particularly arresting about the way they sounded last night. Perhaps it was their post album-release ebullience--especially considering Ghostory’s ubiquitously positive (fanatically positive, even?) reception in the blogosphere and beyond; perhaps it was the terrific sound mix at what is an otherwise hit-or-miss venue. Perhaps it was the addition of a keyboardist/co-vocalist, or the amazing drummer who played along like a human metronome to such rhythmically complex tunes. Perhaps performing new songs invariably re-energizes any group dynamic. I imagine it’s an amalgam of all those things.

But there was something else too. Something more difficult to pin down; but something also more indelible. What immediately comes to mind is Beethoven’s Eroica - his momentous 3rd Symphony -the two opening chords of which signify, to many, the end of the Classical era in music. You’re probably so damn confused right now, thinking “What the hell is this woman talking about? Why must she bring Beethoven into this? Why???”

Let me explain: The Eroica symphony is one of revolt and upheaval, evident in the first ten seconds of score. Beethoven defies, even flouts symphonic convention by refusing to offer up any thematic indicators in that famous first phrase, and instead opts for two sharp, abrasive, a-tonal chords in an E-flat major that hits you over the head. They sound like someone wiping their hands clean (of the Classical era?), and I imagine these few measures had the very first audience members as equally confused as they were captivated. Anyway, a ton could be said about the historical context for this gambit (Ludwig was rumored to be a big fan of Napoleon), but in terms of its musical significance, I feel it was more of a move on Beethoven's part to begin paving his own way in the larger scheme of his creative life, not to mention the musical zeitgeist in which he lived; it seems he wished to leave the past in its proverbial dustbin, and instead look onto the unfathomable horizons that lay outstretched before him. Indeed, he dove in, and subsequently shaped for the world a whole new era that would turn out to be (in my own opinion) the antecedent to nearly every genre that you love, that you can name. Classical gave way to Romantic, which gave way to everything.

So anyway, back to SVIIB and how my Beethoven tangent is in any way relevant to this show: The opening interlude to their set was so different from what one might normally hear from them. It lasted about 30 seconds. It was loud and cohesive and joyous, rather than dreamy and introverted and (intentionally) disjointed sounding in that shoegaze-ish kind of way. And everything that followed, followed suit. It almost seemed like they were trying to send us the message that we should just put to rest our expectations and conceits about who they are and what they mean as a group. And it seemed they wanted to surprise us, too. To frame it in terms of a shameless cliche, they actually seemed, right in that moment, to have ‘arrived’, in a way.  

In any case, they played plenty of old songs, but they were all infused with a totally different kind of energy and a noticeable lack of self-consciousness. Their new songs were wonderful and made me look forward to listening more closely to Ghostory. This is a band whose longevity in this industry (whatever the “industry” really is, at this point--beats me) is as assured as their talent is obvious. But they are trailblazing as well. Toward what? I don’t know. But I can’t wait to find out.


SVIIB play their second show tonight at Mercury Lounge, followed by a brief stint in Europe and tour throughout the US in April and May.  Ghostory is available now via Vagrant Records/Ghostly International.

SHOW REVIEW: Tycho w/ Beacon, live at Music Hall Of Williamsburg

I was super excited to go see Beacon last Saturday night. My exposure to them thus far had been pretty limited to their brief stint at Cameo Gallery for the Brooklyn Electronic Music Fest, at which they only played a handful of songs. But they were shockingly good songs. Especially considering what one immediately notices about this duo. They look like a couple of sartorially unassuming white kids from your hometown somewhere in the Midwest. Until they start playing music that is. Then they're magically transformed into bass-blasting R&B/electronic superstars. It was a bit surreal to hear such a cavernous, all consuming sound coming out of the two of them, actually, and it made my attitude toward them swing dramatically from skeptical to deferential in a matter of seconds.

So there I was, waiting outside Music Hall to meet the person from whom I was scalping a craigslist ticket to this sold out show (Tycho, the headliner, is pretty damn incredible as well, which I'll get to). Suddenly the building started shaking a little bit, and my chest cavity began to vibrate oh so subtly. From a distance I heard opening chords of "See Through You". And I knew immediately, that this band is as good as I remembered them to be that night three months ago.

I finally got into the show not shortly thereafter, and settled in toward the front to be enveloped by loud bass, hot beats spun by Jacob Gossett, and Tom Mullarney's smooth reverbed-out voice singing the songs I've come to know pretty well at this point, from their EP No Body. After a few tracks, the crowd was glued. Whoever hadn't heard of them before, or had any doubts about their talent, was elevated to instant fandom, I'm sure of it. And it was then, when these guys knew they had everyone wrapped around their little fingers, that they upped the ante and performed this Ginuwine cover.





And I thought that would be the pinnacle of my experience of this show... Alas, I had no idea what Tycho had in store for us.

Tycho's set was amazing for three reasons.

First, and for those of you who aren't familiar with Tycho, this is a band that puts more effort into cultivating a spectacular audio-visual experience for their audience than anyone I've ever seen live. While the music itself is primarily a blend of ambient sounding electronic and live drum/bass/lead guitar, the video work that Scott Hanson (Tycho's founder) produces and curates to accompany the  music is really quite thoughtful, and heightens every song's sonic impact with total deliberation; each clip of video is stunningly executed, and seems to be timed to accentuate certain beats, tones, and shifts in musical phrase to an ideal degree.

Second, there isn't so much going on, even despite the crazy visuals, that you can't focus on any one musician in particular and feel captivated by their technical abilities. For Example, the bass player was so good, and stalwart (many of these tracks were over five minutes long), that it was easy to get lost in his playing and forget everything else that was happening. The band's first encore performance had Scott playing solo, and apologizing to the audience for the noticeable  absence of bandmates, with the candid admittance that he "just needed to give them a rest". 

Third, these songs are pretty mellow, generally, but they never ever bore. There was a dude standing about six feet in front of me who was breakdance-fighting/shadow boxing/going into epileptic shock for the entire set. I swear to god, he never stopped moving for the full hour and a half they played. There were also any number of fist-pumpers and of course the occasional girl who would burst into tears at the beginning of a certain song...

Anyway, please enjoy a video from the show, and hopefully get a sense for what I'm talking about here. Do trust though, that this little clip in no way does Tycho justice.

EP REVIEW: Headcage by Matthew Dear (Ghostly)

I remember the first time I heard the Matt Dear track “Tide”. I was driving around Detroit with my sister. It was the dead heat of summer. We were trying to find the Masonic Temple to attend what was rumored to be an amazing dance party thrown by a little known record label out of Ann Arbor that was, and still is, near and dear to us both.

As we circled 'round and 'round the Cass Corridor trying to find parking and hoping not to miss anyone’s set, she (this sister of whom I speak) put “Tide” on, and asked me if I had heard it yet. At the time, Matt Dear—one of said label’s co-creators and first signatories—was still just some enigmatic DJ who composed exclusively techno; so I was surprised to suddenly hear his deep, now distinctive singing voice emerge from the noise. And although I didn’t think too much of it (the singing thing, that is) I secretly hoped it wasn’t some weird gimmick, because I could imagine him parlaying this particular genre-hybrid he had created, into something quite extraordinary. It was 2004 then. In 2011 Black City came out and blew everyone’s mind, and to me, was the culmination of something seminal about that particular summer.

During the three or so times last year that I saw him and his band (handsome and dramatically impeccable in their three piece suits) perform Black City—with trumpet player and all—I felt that same little kernel of anxiety that I remember from the summer of 2004: that this amazing music might go away, like a vanishing mythological creature. I felt like I shouldn’t get too attached, for fear that it may turn out to be just another fleeting iteration of one of his many aliases.

**Listen to "Tide" Here, because apparently I'm not sophisticated enough to copy and paste code from Soundcloud.**

Anyway, you can imagine my sigh of relief upon learning that the band version of Matt Dear, Matthew Dear, would be putting out an EP in the New Year. And Headcage is pretty awesome indeed. In four tracks it both assuages the fear I spoke of, that he'll cease to make the songs that I love the most--those that simultaneously propel the listener into new frontiers of artsy electronic, and take him or her back to some unnameable era of dance music--and suggests to me what the next phase of his polymathic (no, I don't really know if that's a real adjective) career might entail . 

The first track, "Headcage" is an immediate nod to the highlights of Black City (namely "Shortwave" and "You Put A Smell On Me", I think). It combines entrancing beats and heavy, nostalgia-inspiring synthetic melodies with insightful lyrics that juxtapose Matt's laconic persona. "Around The Fountain" and "Street Song", are a bit slower and more psychedelic, but pack a punch for their marked lack of traditional "techno" indicators. For example, "Street Song", is underpinned by what can best be described as a barely perceptible, irregular sounding heartbeat.

"In The Middle (I Met You There)", is the wild card of this EP. It starts off sounding like a hip hop jam, with a line from the chorus looping over a funky beat. The melody slowly emerges from a distant synth without the listener even knowing it. Then, Johnny Pierce (from the Drums) starts to croon what has become an addictive opening verse, building up to the refrain, during which all the background music stops. Then the chorus hits, with Matt Dear's baritone voice entering dramatically, singing along with Pierce, only an octave lower. It's at this point we find out that "In The Middle" is actually a love song ("The waves will keep on crashing in/sometimes we lose sometimes we win/you saved me from myself again/baby I don't know how this will end"). This lyric repeats for a minute or so before the whole thing descends into instrumental chaos. It's both familiar and surprising, and it's the moment of Headcage that hooks me, in typical Matt Dear fashion, leaving me yearning for more. Good thing the full length album will be out next year.

At a Matt Dear show, right before we lit a fire in a bad location