1. art and entertainment
2. music

vol. 1 / issue 3
december 2004
[email protected]
table of contents
from the editor...........................................................3
album reviews:
mercery rev...............................................................5
the cure......................................................................6
death from above 1979...........................................7
mf doom....................................................................8
kings of leon.............................................................10
the kinks...................................................................11
show reviews:
animal collective....................................................13
interpol.....................................................15
features:
interview with Blood Brothers’ mark gajadhar............17
jews vs. christians in indie rock.....................................20
an intro to YIDcore........................................................21
voldemort can’t stop the rock!...................................22
gunslingers
editor: anne nguyen
staff writers:
liam andrews, alex benenson, mona elsayed,
ted gorden, sara holdren, matt humphreys,
alex lessard-pilon, alex remington, alex sassaroli,
violet woodard pu, kristen windmuller, tony daggett
graphic design: sara holdren, joseph luna
editorial
anne nguyen
Presumably, hipsters know all about irony. From those
“ironic” little-boy soccer jerseys to the “irony” of having a vintage
turntable in your dorm room, the true mark of hipsterdom is
apparently surrounding yourself with anachronistic gadgets and
treating everything with the same tongue-in-cheek attitude. The
definition of irony, however, seems to get more and more blurry (is
being ironic part of being a hipster, or is being a hipster ironic?),
and Alanis got it wrong in the first place – having ten thousand
spoons when all you need is a knife is certainly unfortunate, but
it is not ironic. Irony is now an excuse to indulge in the most crass
and callow behavior and then to pass it off as social critique (or,
conversely, to hide sincere sentiments under the guise of flouting
conventional tastes – c’mon, you know you love that old Ace
of Base song way too much to claim it’s just about the marginal
feeling of irony you get from listening to it all the time).
In a rather disgusting example of this inability to recognize
irony, Yale’s very own MC Plátano recently released a shitty track
entitled “Lickin’ a Bum.” I’m not sure where the irony comes in here
– the irritating Nintendo noises, a throwback to those elementaryschool days? The oh-so-clever pun on “bum”? Featuring brilliant
lines such as “Hello, I see a bum bitch with some teeth yellow/ I can
hit it doggy-style while she recites a Fellow/ Her pussy’s jiggly like
Jello when she’s near crazy/ A fine specimen, a bum named the
Shakespeare Lady,” I think we can safely say that this particular
song is offensive and derogatory. To try to pass it off as irony – or
even more incorrectly, as “satirical material,” as Plátano’s website
claims, is to presume that it makes some sort of attack on vice or
some criticism of human behavior, which is clearly lacking in this
poorly-written and produced song.
Let’s stop for a moment and just talk about quality, even.
Featuring juvenile rhymes (the “crazy”/ “lady” pattern is hardly
original and quite abused on this track) and rudimentary sampling
that gives this song exactly two layers, Plátano’s affected nasal
rapping over repetitiously-looped Nintendo sounds, this piece is
back on the Internet due to inexplicable alleged “popular
demand.” You’d think that the sheer inanity of the lyrics would
at least contribute to the flow, but this is clearly not the case as
Plátano’s words often jam up into awkward syllabic messes (“an
dthenI’llbuyherflowersforthischickforValentine’sDay”). On second
thought, perhaps even the slight lessening of intelligibility is a relief.
At the end of this track, Plátano repeats “I’m lickin’ a bum/
She can suck my dick ‘til it comes/ And afterwards, you know
where I’ll be stickin’ my thumb.” This enigmatic proposition is
clarified to the delight of all listeners’ hearts when he follows it with
“Plátano’s got the flow to make your booty go pthbblt.” Even
more thrillingly, he then adds a whole slew of farting noises. I
believe that speaks for itself, and when you can convince me that
flatulence and the dehumanization of an already-marginalized
group in New Haven are ironic and acceptable, I’ll gladly join the
December Rumpus’s Remedial column in criticizing well-meaning
YHHAPers. Until then, though, David and Magni, keep fighting the
good fight!
In happier news, gunslinger. wishes you a very happy
holidays and much luck on finals. In this issue, we have exclusive
interview content from Harry and the Potters, whom gunslinger. will
be happy to present on Yale campus in January 2005 thanks to
Kristen Windmuller. Also, Alex Benenson has scored an exceedingly
rare interview with Blood Brothers drummer Mark Gajadhar. Joe
Luna describes an Interpol show while Sarah Holdren tells us what
she thinks of the new Cure album (and lends her invaluable design
skills to the layout of this issue!). Matt Humphries, who left-butnot-really, is back with his take on the DFA1979 release, and Liam
Andrews and Ted Gordon try to resolve whether Christians or Jews
rock harder, respectively. Luckily for Liam, Ted takes the moral high
ground and doesn’t call him on automatic-disqualifier Pedro the
Lion, although the Jewish case is bolstered by Alex Remington’s
article on Jewish-Australian punk rockers YIDcore (Bizarre. Read all
about it!).
May you all have
wonderful winter breaks,
and send holiday e-cards
to gunslinger_mag@
3 4
yahoo.com.
album reviews
mercury rev
the secret migration
liam andrew
In the world of indie
snobbery and pretension, it
sometimes feels like there’s a
stigma attached to liking pop
music. I don’t mean pop as in
Britney Spears or Jessica Simpson or even her stupid sister; I mean music that makes you feel good,
without resorting to screaming, experimental noises,
or other such posturing to find listeners. Legions of
artists, with the Beatles and the Beach Boys as their
canon, have toiled long and hard to craft the perfect pop song, and few bands have come as close
as Mercury Rev. With 1998’s incredible Deserter’s
Songs and the magnificent All is Dream released
three years later, Mercury Rev has set the bar high
for orchestral pop music, with Jonathan Donahue’s
ghostly, Wayne Coyne-esque voice, weeping strings,
steady drums, and dreamy electronic fills that add
up to charming songs with an air of mystery.
The Secret Migration, set to be released in
January 2005, pushes the needle on the pop-o-meter
to maximum. The production puts Donahue’s voice
at the front, while the orchestra, piano, and usual
array of other Mercury Rev instruments blend into
a streamlined monotony. Luckily the songwriting
remains as good as ever, and I find myself entranced
by many moments on the album, such as the
flow of the chorus on “Across Yer Ocean,” or the
ominous piano that opens “Black Forest (Lorelei).” At
times, though, the “air of mystery” that was such a
captivating part of the band is completely absent;
songs like “Moving On” feature vocal
harmonies so sugary they’re kind of
nauseating. The songs are faster than
they’ve ever been; standout track
“Vermillion” takes the tempo
up so many notches that it’s
danceable, which is certainly uncharted ground for the band. In
this case it works, but on tracks like “In a Funny Way,” one gets the
feeling that the pace was increased to mask awkward drumbeats
and wandering bass lines.
All in all, though, this is not what is wrong with the album, and
its ultimate shortcoming only came to me after many listens: The
Secret Migration is almost completely lacking in minimalism. After
a few spins, I find myself longing for songs like All is Dream’s “The
Dark is Rising,” in which the hollow, distant beauty of the verse was
what made its epic, sweeping chorus so jaw-droppingly gorgeous.
But maybe I’m asking too much of the ‘Rev; I might have given
this album more praise had I never heard what Mercury Rev was
capable of on their past two releases. After all, this is an enjoyable
listen, and it feels wrong to ask more of pop music than that.
On a scale of states from Alaska to Rhode Island, this album is
Kansas – solid, but somewhat bland.
the cure
the cure
sara holdren
There are some albums that are just
better when you sample them. Anyone
would be hard-pressed not to like At the
Drive In’s “One Armed Scissor,” but I have
to admit that I wouldn’t exactly listen to Relationship of Command
from start to finish at the drop of a guitar pick. After hearing The
Cure’s new album (creatively entitled The Cure), I found myself
feeling about the same way.
Not to say that I don’t like the album; I was just a little
disappointed to find my beloved Cure (oh, semi-goth British boys,
how I love you) slightly more monotonous than usual. The Cure
begins on a somber note as lead singer Robert Smith repeats the
words “I can’t find myself” over and over on an increasingly intense
mid-tempo track called “Lost.” On its own, the song is musically
interesting, creating a sort of melodic Doppler effect as the
grinding guitars and sorrowful vocals build to a climax of angst and
then slowly fade away. The problem with The Cure, though, is that
like “Lost,” many of the songs are good individual listens, but when
taken together, they don’t have enough variety. Most tracks
5 6
Most tracks move along at about the same moderate tempo and
Smith’s vocals stay in about the same middle range. A few songs,
such as “Taking Off” and “Before Three,” offer some relief from this
pattern: they pick up the pace a bit and show a gleam of light
amid the album’s heavier tracks. To be fair, both of these tracks are
very good songs in their own right, and it’s unfortunate that they’re
obscured by The Cure’s entirety. They’d be better on mix-tapes.
On this same note, The Cure is rather unluckily book-ended.
The dour opener “Lost” is matched by an equally morose closing
number, a tormented 10-minute epic called “The Promise” that
grinds to a halt as Smith repeats “and I waited” and finally “and I’m
still waiting” into oblivion. Not to slight these possibly very personal
songs, but their heaviness bogs down what otherwise might have
been a more vivacious album. I like The Cure’s newest effort, I really
do, but I feel that The Cure never quite “found itself,” and like Smith
in the final song, “I’m still waiting.”
Rating: 3.5 boys with eyeliner out of 5.
death from above 1979
you’re a woman, i’m a machine
matt humphreys
Rock-and-roll is alive and well,
says the swagger of DFA1979’s new album.
You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine follows
the ebb and flow of a relationship, from its
incipient advances (“Romantic Rights”) to
its eventual collapse, evoking that familiar
feeling of release and longing in its title
track. But stop right now if you think this album is some kind of emo
kid’s wet dream concept album – DFA1979’s October release is
articulately-crafted, dirty electro-rock that’s all there. Jesse Keeler
and Sebastien Grainger have studied the canon, and the results
are downright classic rock-and-roll for a new generation: full of the
grime, filth, and intense sexuality of a night of heavy drinking and
whoring.
The whole album, entirely bass and drums, features the odd
electronic trills-and-frills, but is carried by the furiously-shifting guitar
riffs, which tells you something about the lack of subtlety about this
album. As Keeler mentions in their band bio, “We wanted our
our band to be like an elephant in your living room.” And they
get that enormity— the sound fills your headphones like a drill,
unstoppable.
With all their aggression and presence, the band’s most
serious about one thing: getting you to dance, and then getting
you back to their room. They croon the best, sleaziest, and sexiest
come-on vocals that sound like Trent Reznor on Viagra, and throw
down beats that are straight off dance records. They’re good at
it, too: “Sexy Results,” the last track, has a beat like an 80’s club
song, “Go Home, Get Down” and “Black History Month” keep to
traditional punk drumwork, and “Blood On Our Hands” is just one
fluttering snare hit away from a house track that Tenaglia might
play. The Faint should pay attention; “Blood On Our Hands” sounds
like what their new album should have been. The best songs,
however, are the truly raucous tracks at the beginning and the
end—like any relationship, it’s initially fast and heavy, slows down
in the middle, and ends exactly where it began, with the next girl.
The high hat’s so fast on second track “Romantic Rights” that you
wonder how Grainger could possibly keep the rhythm for so long,
and Keeler throws down bass lines that might make Maiden jealous
on “You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine.”
The album has a few faults— for one, the slower tracks, while
well-done, don’t break any new ground. All in all, though, this is the
kind of album that’ll take you out dancing, get you loaded, sleep
with you in a cheap motel, and ditch you in the morning…and
leave you dying for more.
On a scale from The Fonz to James Dean, this album gets a Judd
Nelson as John Bender in The Breakfast Club.
mf doom
mm..food?
ted gordon
What’s this? A rap album reviewed
in an indie rock magazine? Yes, you’re reading correctly. Despite the relative unpopularity of rap among the hipster subset, independent rap artists such
as MF Doom and his many-time collaborator Madlib are often
innovative and inspired, a far cry from most flashy, disposable Top
40 rappers. Whereas the stereotypical artist raps about his car’s
7 8
rims or his “bitches” over rehashed 80’s hits, on his new album,
MF Doom spouts cleverly-rhymed poetry over beats that sample
everything from Frank Sinatra to Frank Zappa. And to top it all off, it’s
all about food.
At least that’s what you would think, given that its
anagrammatic title is MM…Food?. The album cover shows MF
Doom, Metal Face and all, eating a bowl of cereal, and the tracks
run the gastronomical gamut from “Poo-Putt Platter” to “Rapp Snitch
Knishes.” Doom does indeed mention food in each of his songs, but
it’s more of a recurring theme than a controlling metaphor. In fact,
most of the tracks on the album are very reminiscent of old-school rap,
with rhymes about rhyming itself rather than gangsta killin’ or wealth
accumulatin’.
The album is very referential, but not
exploitive or nostalgic. MF Doom has produced an intellectual, meta-rap album in
which his rhymes and samples display his
musical education. For example, he samples
Frank Zappa twice: in MM..Food?’s opening
sequence, a clip from “Would You Like a
Snack?”, an obscure little tune from Zappa’s
200 Motels, pokes its head out from the
comic book-themed audio montage. In
Doom’s “Gumbo,” he lifts the entire melody
from Zappa’s “Holiday in Berlin.” You might think this is all just music
snobbery, but interestingly, Zappa did the same thing in most of his
songs, interjecting melodies and themes from Stravinsky and Holst
amidst his 70’s orgiastic rock jams.
“One Beer,” produced by Madlib, starts off with Doom singing
“I Get a Kick Out of You,” but then regresses back to MF Doom’s usual
science-fiction soundscape. On this track and the other montages
interspersed between most tracks on the album, MF Doom liberally
samples the “Dr. Doom” cartoon series and other old-school television/
radio shows. Most of these sequences mix the cartoon clips with what
sounds like dialogue from food industry promotional videos, and there’s
even a Monty Python cat snarl thrown in for good measure.
MF Doom demonstrates that he takes to heart his own philosophy,
as described in a 2003 interview, of having fun with rap and avoiding the
pitfalls of modern commercialism. MM..Food? represents a milestone in
original, independent, self-aware rap music, and its retrospective glances
coupled with its brilliant production make it truly a work of art.
MM..Food?
represents
a milestone
in original,
independent,
self-aware
rap music.
On a scale from “blasting DMX in your lowered ’86 Grand Marquis with hydraulics,
20” chrome rims, and neon lights” to “attending a poetry reading in the new
MoMA building,” MM..Food? rates a “listening to the Grey Album while reading
Foucault.” (Okay, maybe that didn’t make sense, but it’s really, really, good).
kings of leon
a-ha shake heartbreak
alex sassaroli
With A-Ha Shake Heartbreak,
the latest effort from Memphis rockers Kings
of Leon, the band evidently sought to create a work that was deeper and more mature than their debut. As valiant an effort as this may be, the album
fails to resemble anything close to a truly meditative piece.
The Kings of Leon had a nice reputation as a band of dirty
Southern party boys, and perhaps should have kept it that way
instead of trying to create a pseudo-introspective album. Songs
like “Soft” and “Day Old Blue” demonstrate the problems I have
with the album itself. “Soft,” while
having a somewhat-catchy jangly
garage sound, fails to impress simply
mangy-bearded, because
of the disgusting lyrics (“I’d
come all over your party but I’m soft”)
about impotence. Caleb Followill’s stab
at a heartfelt ballad, “Day Old Blue,”
with its abrasive yodeling and selfreferential lyrics like “Girls are gonna
love the way I toss my hair/ Boys are
gonna hate the way I sing,” raises just
one question: is the entire band’s image
as portrayed by this album – longhaired, mangy-bearded, down-home country boys singin’ ‘bout
love, heartache, and erectile dysfunction – an exercise in sheer
camp, or is this crack at a more emotionally developed album a
pure failure?
I would like to think that on the whole, this album can be
appreciated on a purely superficial level. Economical catchy
garage sounds, as popularized by bands like the Strokes and the
Moving Units, are the hook for the album. Songs like “King of the
Rodeo,” a simple, urgent, and uplifting track, demonstrate that the
Kings of Leon still haven’t lost their party side. To try to look beyond
the surface level of the music and connect on a more emotional
level is not something that can be sought on this release.
If only the Kings of Leon could ditch this attempt at writing
long-haired,
down-home
country boys
singin’ ‘bout
love, heartache,
and erectile
dysfunction
9 10
4 rusty Ford F-150s out of 10.
the kinks
lola versus powerman and
the moneygoround [reissue]
alex remington
The Kinks always were a peculiar
band. One the one hand, they were cutting-edge: Dave Davies
was one of the inventors of guitar distortion and poked pencil
holes in his amp to create a dirtier sound. On the other hand, they
were part of the banal British R&B scene with everyone else, from
the Rolling Stones to the Beatles (“Twist and Shout”) to the Who
(Maximum R&B). But the Kinks turned back; they never hurried to
invade America. They took their time, lingered in the sounds of
British music halls, and kept one foot planted in the past and one in
the future.
There have been a few perfect singles since the dawn of
time, and the Kinks are creators of several. “Lola” is one of them.
With an almost innocuous build-up, a tale of trannie love, and a
killer electrified chorus, the structure is more complex than in their
early riff-based classics like “You Really Got Me” and “All Day and
All of the Night.” The title of the album, Lola vs. Powerman and
the Moneygoround (the names of three of the better songs on
the album), is deceptive about the focus of the album. “Denmark
Street,” “Top of the Pops,” and “Moneygoround” are all about the
unhappy plight of a musician—manipulated and played by record
execs, disk jockeys, and friends. Almost every song on the album is
a social critique.
By this time, Ray Davies, the Kinks’ singer and songwriter,
was more cynical than ever, and his voice often sounds thin and
ragged. But there are a few moments where the malaise lifts and
they rock like hell—the Keith Richards-like lick at the beginning of
the verse in “The Contenders,” the tough riff in “Top of the Pops”
that hearkens back to their earliest singles, and, of course,
“Lola.” (continued on next page)
The remastered edition doesn’t add any new songs, just
demo versions of “Apeman” and “Powerman.” “Apeman” is a
jaunty criticism of modern urban life: “I looked out the window and
couldn’t see the sky/ The air pollution is a-fogging up my eyes/
I wanna get out of this city alive/ And make like an apeman.”
“Powerman” is an electrified tale of the kinds of rich men who hold
artists’ fates in their hands, with Beatles-esque harmonies during the
chorus.
The album’s theme itself is as prescient now as ever: the
music industry still fucks musicians, and Ray Davies is a hell of a lot
more articulate than Courtney Love. The Kinks always tried to sound
somewhat musically anachronistic, as they created for themselves
a peculiarly British rock. The album does not hold together quite
as well as their best albums, because some of the songs are duds.
“Strangers,” for example, and the two acoustic songs following
“The Moneygoround” don’t really go anywhere. Overall, though,
the album is one of the Kinks’ hardest, and the best songs buoy the
album. In the end, Lola’s saving grace is “Lola,” a queer love song
floating in an ocean of discontent.
7 out of 10 Harry rags.
artwork by kristen windmuller
self-described “introspective” music, embrace the fact that they
are a garage band that happens to be Southern, and have Caleb
could turn the accent down a little… Well, turning down the
Southern is probably not the thing to ask a bunch of Johnny Rebs
out of Memphis.
11 12
holiday mix tape
1. Death Cab for Cutie – The New Year
2. My Bloody Valentine – Soft as
Snow (But Warm Inside)
3. Pavement – Summer Babe
(Winter Version)
4. Jeff Buckley – Corpus Christi
Carol (For Roy)
5. The Locust – Get Off the
Cross, the Wood is
Needed
6. Modest Mouse –
Jesus Christ was an
Only Child
7. Joanna Newsom –
Bridges and Balloons
8. Stars – What the Snowman Learned
About Love
9. The Decemberists – Grace
Cathedral Hill
10. Tom Waits – Jesus Gonna Be Here
11. Pixies – Holiday Song
animal collective
at the knitting factory, nyc;
show reviews
[a tragedy in three parts]
kristen windmuller
I. Hope
It’s my first real day back home, and I’m
feeling good, glad to be hitting a show near the dirty
streets of Chinatown.
I’m looking forward to the show: with this year’s Sung
Tongs, a stylish layering of avant-garde ambiance
over soaring pop melodies and harmonies, Animal
Collective began a new chapter. Though not an
instantly approachable collection, it marked a turn
for the band whose previous albums, including Here
Comes the Indian (2003) and Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit
They’ve Vanished (2000), were primarily driven by
ambient and imaginative balladry. Sung Tongs, the
creation of Avey Tare and Panda Bear, incorporates
these elements, but beautifully embellishes them
with euphoric and simple verses that reach far
beyond their initial incoherence to become rhythmic
memories of more uncomplicated times.
II. Chaos
After inhaling the brisk, garbage-tainted air, I enter
the bar, where ripped vinyl seats are scattered under
a ceiling tinted with dim red bulbs. The first openers,
Oakley Hall, take the stage in threadbare Western
shirts; male and female singer/guitarists backed by a
drummer and a bassist croon aimless tunes and wistful
duets interrupted by a fiddler. On the whole, wellplayed, well-executed, but nothing special.
Next is Gang Gang Dance, which sounds like either a
dish at a Thai restaurant or some bizarre tribal sex act.
In fact, “bizarre” is probably the most appropriate
adjective, or perhaps “painful.” The performance
consists of the lead singer, a self-enamored relic
of 90s spiritualism, screeching unintelligible lyrics with the tone and
expression of a 3-year-old desperate for attention. To make things
better, the proud brat echoes and loops her cries while swaying
along to keyboard samples.
At this point, I can’t take the band or the heat any more, and go
out for a bit, only to return to the same monstrosity…and then all
I remember is intense heat and waking up in a hallway with two
guys making sure I still have a pulse. Something got to me, and I’d
love to say it was Gang Gang Dance’s music, but it was the heat;
the show was seriously oversold and apparently passing out was
my way of protesting. I sit out the rest of that set in the hallway,
drinking water and staring aimlessly while trying to figure out what
happened. Ah, well.
This must be a
III. Despair
vision caused
Standing at the door to avoid another
lapse of consciousness, I at last hear by some drug
Animal Collective. And it certainly
I’m obviously not
isn’t any Animal Collective I’ve heard
before; the entire set is improvised.
on, because
After a half-hour of moody, swirling
atmospheric tones (admittedly welllayered with rhymed, though mainly
what’s happening.
unintelligible lyrics), Avey Tare, Panda
Bear, Geologist, and Deaken circle up, mics, drumsticks, and
tambourines in hand, to powwow between their amps. This must
be a vision caused by some drug I’m obviously not on, because I
have no idea what’s happening. I leave, disheartened and rather
worse for the wear, thanks to Gang Gang Dance and too many
sweaty indie kids.
I have no idea
Though true to their past albums in the sense of folkie
“togetherness” and a campfire/legend feel, Animal Collective’s set
included completely new music, all improvised, though carefully
planned as the culmination of a long tour. This show was neither a
showcase of their talent nor their past work, and turned out to be
an unfortunate disappointment.
Rating: You know it’s bad when the highlight of the show
is the part you weren’t conscious for.
13 14
Joe Luna
“We ain’t going to the town/ We’re going to the city.” So
began a fedora-topped Paul Banks with “Next Exit” from the latest
album Antics to kick off a 14-song set at the Hammerstein Ballroom.
For some (read: myself and a few friends), who had made the
drunken pilgrimage to the cultural heaven and hell that is New York
City, it was a great start. The somber organ filled the opera house,
floating high into the frescoed ceilings as the crowd was swept
away on delicate guitar strings. The little indie girl next to us even
began crying, and let’s face it, when little indie girls begin crying
during the opening song, that’s saying something.
If this moving episode was one extreme, getting everyone
in the place to move was definitely the other. With songs like “Say
Hello to Angels” and the newer “Narc” and “Slow Hands,” even the
most hardened of indie kids had more than just a head bopping.
The show seemed to hover between these two states with a set
list that meandered between the quiet and stirring echoes of
“Hands Away” and “NYC” to loud and fiery renditions of “Evil” and
“Obstacle 1.” Songs from Antics blended very well with their Turn
On the Bright Lights siblings as the band was met with enthusiastic
applause before and after every
song. They certainly
took advantage of the
amazing acoustics of
the venue to deliver
a sound that was
delicate, sharp, and so rich that each string could be made out in
a flurry of chords.
And of course, they made it look effortless. Bassist Carlos
D. smoked a few cigarettes. A scruffy Dan Kessler fixed his tie
periodically before resuming to pick the same beautiful two strings
for an entire song. A ridiculously well-dressed Banks never strayed
more than four inches from the microphone, delivering powerful
vocals beneath Sam Fogarino’s crashing cymbals. Granted, this
is not a band with explosive stage presence, as the members did
little more than pace around. In many respects, though, this only
seemed to heighten the focus on the music. “Roland” was a song
that definitely stood out as one began to wonder how the calm
and composed band on stage was able to deliver such a potent
and blistering version, with a particularly noteworthy outro delivered
by Kessler. No doubt this song has since climbed the charts on
many iTunes playlists for those who were there.
In the end, the show was a solid performance by the band,
highlighting their best from both albums and leaving a satisfied
crowd emptying into a New York night with songs embedded in
many heads for days to come.
the hipster holiday
wish list
The Hipster Handbook by Robert Lanham
Interpol
The Hammerstein Ballroom, NYC, 11.12.04
15 16
*Used clothes that don’t fit
*Out-of-print Yo La Tengo
single
<<*The Hipster Handbook
*New pair of limited edition
puke-yellow-and-mauve
Asics
*A hand-knit scarf
*Glow-in-the-dark giant
plugs to put in ridiculously
huge ear piercing
*Gay pink shirt
*Jenny Lewis
*A resurrected Jeff
Buckley
*Private Pavement
reunion concert
*1974 12-month
calendar (how ironic)
special features
exclusive interview:
the blood brothers’ mark gahadhar
alex benenson
The Blood Brothers are quickly gaining a cultlike status. With the release of their fifth album last
month, they have made more good music in five years
than most bands make in a lifetime. Starting off as the
prototypical garage band from Seattle, they soon
caught the attention of bigwig producer Ross Robinson
and found themselves headlining tours all over America
and Europe. Last week I sat down with the Blood
Brothers drummer, Mark Gajadhar, to fill in all the gaps.
By the way, get jealous – Mark has only ever given one
or two interviews; this is a Gunslinger exclusive.
drummer mark gahadhar
with the blood brothers
Alex: Little background for the readers, how did you
guys all come together? What was the big break from
the local Seattle scene to headlining your own tours
and getting a major deal with Artist Direct, etc.?
Mark: Johnny, Jordan, and I started a band called
Vade after I met them at a local show. Johnny sang,
Jordan played bass, and I played guitar. Jordan’s twin
sister was on drums and Devon, a one-time member
of Blood Bros, played guitar as well. So, one day
we got together and wanted to start a thrash
band and I wanted to try the drums. I called
my friend Cody to see if he wanted to
play with us, and the birth of the
Blood Brothers was there.
After a few changes, the lineup was Johnny and Jordan on vocals,
Cody on bass, Devon on guitar, and me [Mark] on drums. We put
out a few 7”s and eventually came into contact with Morgan.
Morgan went to bass and Cody moved to guitar. This lineup didn’t
last too long due to differences, so Devon decided to leave the
band. There we go; the lineup as it is to date.
We put out a few records on smaller labels: This Adultery
is Ripe on Second Nature, and March On, Electric Children on
3oneG. One day we got this e-mail from some guy named Ross
Robinson; we had no clue who he was, so we ignored it. He sent
us a few more e-mails and after a while we decided to talk to
him to see what he was about. Through bands that we knew, we
gathered it might be a good idea to work with him ourselves. So we
agreed and did our first “major label” record with Ross. Artist
Direct had some problems supporting us, so
we moved over to V2 Records to put out
Crimes. Things are going great with them so
far, and I think that puts you up to date
with the history of the Blood Bros.
“On Crimes,
we did things
differently – we
all sat in the
A: Your last two albums show an
incredible amount of growth and
practice room maturity;
the jump in production value
and jammed alone from March On to Burn Piano Island,
Burn is amazing. What do you think has
for hours until been
the most important factor in your
something growth as a musician, and the growth of the
came out.” band in general?
M: Well, when we wrote the last two albums we devoted all of our
time to writing music. We wrote five or six days a week for many
hours a day. When we did the first few records we were all in school
and had day jobs, so practice and writing took a longer. The fact
that this is now our full-time job helped us grow as a band and as
musicians – I mean, playing drums every day has definitely made
me a better drummer.
A: What is the song writing process like for you guys? Who does
what and how do things come together?
M: On Crimes, we did things differently – we all sat in the practice
room and jammed for hours until something came out. Johnny
and Jordan would just sing melodies and establish a vocal pattern.
Sometimes Cody or Morgan might have a guitar line that they
wrote at home and we would just jam on that for a while. I thought
this process worked really well for us. We were able to write
17 18
a wide variety of songs and we didn’t feel constrained to make
anything that had to sound like the old Blood Bros.
creative in the style and approach that I take.
A: What’s next for the Blood Bros.? Any plans on a new album or tour?
A: In a lot of ways Crimes was an extension of the more melodic and
bluesy style found on Burn Piano Island, Burn, but for the most part, its
song structure was completely different – was this a practicality issue in
terms of being able to play more songs live?
M: It’s a perk to be able to play easier songs, drum-wise, at least. But
that never really crossed my mind when writing drum parts. As for the
simple song structure, it was mostly a result of our songwriting process
– not overthinking things and just jamming.
M: After a record comes out we tour the shit out of those songs.
When we start a new tour, we get rid of all of the ones we are sick of.
Because of this we forget how to play certain songs and never really
relearn them unless we all sit down together and really try. Like, we all
love playing “American Vultures,” but we haven’t played in at least
two years, and no one has taken the time to learn it.
A: My inside source also tells me I should ask about your Halloween
costumes.
M: Halloween!! Good stuff. We played a show in Orlando with Against
Me!, and yes, we dressed up. Morgan, Cody, Jordan, and I were
giant bananas and Johnny was a hula girl with a coconut bra. The
video footage is really fucking funny. We rocked out as much as we
normally do while wearing these costumes. During Against Me! I was
in the pit while wearing
the banana costume.
It was great: a banana
crowd-surfing? Great
stuff!
M: When I listen to hip
hop, I listen to the beat
mostly, but I don’t it’s the
hip hop that actually influences me.
I think it’s that I don’t listen to hardcore
or other heavy music that helps me be
point/counterpoint:
the holiday holy war of indie rock
liam andrew
--Having a cross tattooed on your
forearm is way cooler than having a
Star of David.
A: On that note, I remember hassling Johnny, to no avail, to play
“American Vultures” at a show (sorry, Johnny). With a growing
repertoire of songs how do you pick the setlist, and what are three
songs you personally hate to play live?
A: I know you listen to
a lot of hip hop. How
has that style of music
influenced your work
with the Blood Brothers?
M: We are always writing new music, and we love to record. Who knows,
maybe an EP, maybe not! Nobody has really told me anything about
upcoming records. As for a tour, we are going back to Europe in February
– it’s not booked yet, but that’s the plan.
--The Velvet Underground wrote a
song called “Jesus.” And they’re the
grandfathers of indie rock, people.
How can you deny them?
vs.
ted gordon
--Nothing screams “Indie Rock!” louder
than payos and a big, black felt hat.
--We were indie rockers wayyyy before
the goyim could even conceive of the
concept (Allen Ginsberg—prototype
hipster, not to mention Maimonides [his
first name was Moses! How ironic!])
--Sufjan Stevens’ amazing Seven
Swans, released this year, is an entire
album about his Christianity. And it’s
great. Obviously, this is a pattern.
--How can you write angst-ridden song
lyrics about your traumatic childhood
without having gone through
circumcision and a bar-mitzvah (where
your Aunt Gladys made you dance, in
--Stryper threw Bibles into their mosh
your awkward black-framed glasses,
pits in the ‘80s. Nothing spells badass
to Havah Nagila, much like the way
like sweaty fat guys tripping over Bibles you now dance awkwardly in your
in seedy clubs while they’re trying
black-framed glasses to Junior Senior)?
to run into each other. I would have
laughed very hard had I been there.
--The Silver Jews. Self-explanatory.
But that would have required me to see
Stryper.
--The only other population group that
lives in Williamsburg is the Hasidim. You
--The Minutemen wrote a song called
don’t see much goyim mingling with
“Jesus and Tequila,” which was
the indie rockers down in DUMBO…
supposed to sum up the two greatest
things in life, even though they listed
--From www.overheardinnewyork.com:
them in the wrong order.
“Hipsterism was made for Jewish guys
and Asian girls.”
--Mannheim Steamroller. Enough said.
--John Zorn’s Tzadik Records
--Wilco’s “Jesus, Etc.” is a great song.
(promoting “radical Jewish culture”)
I guess those Jews don’t care about
rules the Lower East Side avant-jazz
their faith enough to write a “Mr. X.,
scene, including collaborators such
Etc.” What’s keeping you from it, guys? as Miho Hatori (from Cibo Matto
Don’t you love Mr. X enough? Huh?
and Gorillaz fame), Mike Patton (Mr.
Bungle/Fantômas/Faith No More),
-- The Jesus Lizard is awesome. They
and even Dave Lombardo (yes, the
have the word “Jesus” in their name.
drummer from Slayer)—through this
Therefore, by the commutative
label, you could connect the Beastie
property, Jesus is awesome.
Boys (Paul’s Boutique era) to the Buena
Vista Social Club to Beck to Björk in
--”King of Carrot Flowers, Part 2” by
less than two steps each.
Neutral Milk Hotel opens with the line,
“I love you, Jesus Christ.” Jeff Mangum --They may not realize it, but all indie
has spoken. He loves Jesus Christ.
rock guys are trying so hard to be a
Therefore, you should love Jesus
young Woody Allen.
Christ.
19 20 --Creed.
--Creed.
kristen windmuller
an intro to YIDcore
just another australian jewish punk band
alex remington
Three old women are gathered around a
table. “Why isn’t there any more nice
music?” one of them asks. “It’s all just
noise. My grandson played me something
once and I almost died.” “Tell me about it,”
says another. “All it is, is men talking about
sex and bad language. Would their mothers be
proud of them?” “Well, thank G-d my
Sammy’s a doctor,” says the third. “If
he were in this music business, I’d
stick my head in the oven.”
Well, worry no more, bubbe:
YIDcore is here. They keep kosher, they
sing “Dayenu,”
“Oseh Shalom,” “If I Were a Rich Man,” and
the Hava Negila, and
they’re obsessed with Natalie Portman and
chicken soup. Oh—and they’re a punk band. From Australia.
YIDcore travels the world playing balls-out punk music, and if it
weren’t for the fact that you probably danced a lot of their songs with
your grandmother at your bar mitzvah, they’d be a serious band and one
of the better straight punk outfits going. (But man, it sounds satisfying to
hear “Dovid melech Yisroel, chai, chai-yi-yi yaaaah!”)
Their music digs in on many levels. They tap into the sound of
a youth rebellion; they translate the songs of yesterday into the music
of today. It’s a universal experience: we all grow up with our parents’
culture, our parents’ language, our parents’ ideas. Then we make them
our own. Bram, Myki, Tim, and Dave’s music is our music; their song is our
song. It’s real, old-school punk, and the songs are fastloudhard. “Hora
#5” is a medley of popular Hebrew songs, including a Hava Nagilah pisstake that’ll wake the dead. It’s a simple formula: apply lighting-fast guitar
chords and a screaming frontman to songs both well-known and original,
and watch the sparks fly.
Here’s a Chanukah story – Two years ago, the band wrote a punk
version of Adam Sandler’s Chanukah Song: “Natalie Portmanika is what
I want for Chanukah… Joey Ramone ate matza at the seer/ Just like
Richard Hell and most of the Dictators/ Lou Reed danced the hora at his
bar mitzvah bash/ With little Johnny Richman and Mick Jones from the
Clash…” Unfortunately, Sandler denied their request and then swiped a
number of their names for his Chanukah Song #3: Lou Reed, Perry Farrell,
Joey Ramone, and even “Natalie Portmanika” all found their way in
there. Bram is also a lawyer (such naches to his mother!), and he mulled
a lawsuit, but instead wrote a song called “Why Won’t Adam Sandler Let
Us Play His Song?” declaring “Thanks to you my Chanukah was not very
funikah… Copyright that, bitch!”
The song connects YIDcore to the tradition of Jewish punk rockers,
a glorious tradition in itself. Handsome Dick Manitoba (born Richard Blum)
literally wears his Judaism on his sleeve at concerts, a big Star of David on
a black bomber jacket. Though Lou Reed may have made a bigger deal
out of being a junky than a Jew, he’s still the punk Bob Dylan. But YIDcore
are the real deal—they care about music and religion. See, bubbe,
they’re proud to be Jews! I would be happy to have them at my table—I
would even let them date my daughter.
artwork by
voldemort can’t stop the rock!
exclusive interview: harry and the potters
kristen windmuller
Paul DeGeorge, 25, and Joe
DeGeorge, 17, are Harry and the Potters,
a band from Massachusetts dedicated to
singing about a young wizard and “turning
up the volume when you read.” I caught
them before their November 12 show at
the West Haven American Legion:
Kristen: The story of your founding – elaborate?
Joe DeGeorge (Harry Potter, year 4): We were
putting on a show, and that morning Paul was
in our kitchen and we were like “Let’s start
Harry and the Potters,” ‘cause we had been
kinda brewing...
J: Yeah…I was playing with my other band
and somebody screamed “I love you, Harry
Potter,” and that’s kinda when we got the idea to do it; we thought it
would be pretty funny to see Harry Potter play in a rock band… we wrote
a bunch of songs at our kitchen table that morning about the first book
and it was a pretty bad show.
Paul DeGeorge (Harry Potter, year 7): We have it on video. It’s pretty
funny; some of the songs still have all the same words.
K: What do you think of the witchcraft controversy surrounding the books?
J: In Ohio, [the audience members’] parents forbade them to read Harry
Potter; they read it in secret in their attics with flashlights —it was totally
punk rock.
K: How does it work with [Paul]
having a job and [Joe] still in high
school?
P: It works, we book all our shows
on weekends. This is our big CT
tour; we’ve played in thirty other
states.
K: Big summer tour?
J: We drove out to the west coast
and back; played 46 shows.
P: I think we were gone for 45
days.
K: So what’s your travel mobile?
Do you have a Potter van?
J: Yeah, there’s a lighting bolt on
the hood.
P: You can see pictures online…it’s
got a “Republicans for Voldemort”
sticker on it.
K: Is the reception of your shows
different coast-to-coast?
P: It’s more dependent
upon the type of crowd
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Harry and the Potters will play on January 14th at The Space in Hamden, CT
and (hopefully) somewhere on the Yale campus the next day.
Visit http://www.eskimolabs.com/hp for more about the band.
23
show list
december/january
of crowd than location, ‘cause everyone’s read the books, but there are
some shows where it’s in an art space and it’s just all these hipster kids that
show up, and those are really fun; then there are other shows where it’s at
the library…
J: Sometimes those can be really awesome or sometimes you get
librarians going “Shhhh, I want to study!”
K: I noticed you had a couple potentially racy [songs]…
P: Oh, we like to push our boundaries.
J: We like to expose [kids] to new culture...
P: Well, it’s in the Bible and Shakespeare. You’re talking about “Cornelius
Fudge is an Ass”? Yeah, that gets some people to leave our shows in the
South, but it’s generally not a problem.
K: Have you shown up at Borders or Barnes & Noble at midnight to pick up
the new book?
J: When the fifth book came out, we played at five different Borders.
J: 5 shows in 24 hours. Hundred-mile radius [in MA].
P: We played at five different Borders, just went from show to show to
show to show. One right at midnight, but they weren’t too interested in
us; they were more interested in the book. They were like, “Let’s stand in
line instead of watch the band.” We also played at the opening of the
third movie, but they were like, “Let’s stand in line and talk while this band
plays…” Now we don’t really have to try and book shows too much,
unless there’s a Harry Potter event…We played at the New England
Aquarium IMAX theater…
J: They projected our CD cover.
P: Oh yeah, our 4-story high CD cover.
J: We’ve never been that big.
K: Outside of Harry Potter, who’s your biggest influence?
J: I think Jack Black or Andrew W. K.
P: I would say They Might Be Giants, too; they have that wide age range
appeal. Their songs are cute and silly enough for kids but clever enough
for adults. I think we try to emulate that as much as possible so when a
parent brings their kid to see us they’re not like “Uhh, this is Raffi, singing
about bananas or something.”…That was the original idea, to kinda get
kids when they’re really little and kinda get them…
J: Punk rock; tell them it’s okay to party.
P: When we play to little kids it’s very much like School of Rock, trying to
get them to participate – swear or something. [The timing] worked out
really well for us; the fifth book came out and Harry was really angry and it
would be the perfect time for him to start a band. He’s got all this angst.
J: Harry Potter’s band would probably be a hardcore band.
P: Well, no, anti-authority and rock-and-roll go together always.
K: I got your George Bush comment when you emailed me... I guess you
aren’t too happy with the state...
P: Well, more reason to rock, I guess. When we play “Cornelius Fudge is
an Ass,” I draw an analogy to Bush, loosely; it’s a similar situation in Harry
Potter – there’s a Minister of Magic who ignores all the facts…
K: Any last words?
P: Joe’s got a running quote machine.
K: Okay, Quote Machine, go!
J: There’s: “We like to take the themes in the book and amplify them with
our rock music”–“Turn up the volume when you read.” I usually sign CDs
with that. Some words of inspiration to leave with.
mandatory show:
Le Tigre Toad’s Place, December 13, $17.50
advance $20 door. One of the superpowers
from the fondly-remembered-by-many Riot
Grrl era, Le Tigre can still bring on the rock.
recommended shows:
Stylex BAR, January 9, Free, 21+.
Stylex brings Devo-like quirkiness and witty,
nonsensical lyrics to electronic beats.
An interesting concoction and a fun band.
The Toasters Webster Theater, January 23.
The first American ska band, and they’re still
touring like madmen after almost 25 years.
I saw these guys last year and it was one of
the most fun shows I’ve ever been to.
other shows:
DJ Still BAR, December 26, 21+.
Solo show by a member of underground hip-hop
group Dalek. As always, shows at BAR are
free, so there aren’t many reasons not to go.
Big D and the Kids Table/Planet Smashers/MU330
West Haven American Legion, January 21.
I don’t know why greater New Haven puts on
such a stupidly high number of ska shows, but
these are actually three of the more interesting
ones out there.
(Directions, questions, comments, or requests
for the addition of a show to next month’s issue
can be directed to our email address.)