New York Music Daily

Global Music With a New York Edge

Category: free download

A Killer Punk Rock Show This Saturday Night in Williamsburg

How cool would it be if punk rock hadn’t been turned into a mallstore t-shirt and a bunch of Warped Tour boybands with matching tattoos?

Isn’t it pathetic how some kids confuse self-centered, joyless emo with inclusive, funny, politically aware punk?

Luckily, there are still some punk bands who haven’t sold out or lost their sense of humor, and one of them is the Car Bomb Parade. They don’t sound much like the Clash, but they have the same cynical, apocalyptic spirit and sense of fun despite everything. They’re playing the Gutter in Williamsburg at 9:45 PM this Saturday night, May 26; cover is $7. Dark psychedelic-and-latin-influenced punks Fisk open the night at 9; funny hardcore band But, Pyrite – whose big hit is Peeing in the Shower – play after at around 10:30. Skum City, who have a similar sense of humor, headline afterward.

Only guitarist Will E. Ramone remains from the band who released their debut World War Anthems – still available at Bandcamp as a name-your-price download – in 2014. Sadly, their killer live album The Car Bomb Parade Takes Queens isn’t available online anymore, but they still have the debut album, their latest release Death Destruction Chaos Filth and Greed, and Live with a Mouthful of Molotov Cocktails – a free download as well – all up at Bandcamp.

The last in that list is their longest one, a bunch of early versions of many of the tunes that eventually made it to The Car Bomb Parade Takes Queens, recorded live complete with crowd noise and drunken between-song banter at Blackthorn 51 in Queens in the winter of 2014.

The show that night kicked off with a bloody take of 50 Shades Of Red, veering in and out of doublespeed with fuzztone guitar crunch. “This song’s about god, because he’s not fucking real,” vocalist Rev. Nicky Bullets snarls, intruducing Fuck Your Gods, Ramone ripping through some Social Distortion-ish leads in between blasts of chords. They follow the doomy hardcore anti-police brutality anthem Occupation with Has-Been, a loping, amusing salute to guys who’ve outgrown getting their brains bashed in the moshpit and are content to just drink instead.

Drummer Dan Brown kicks off Burn with a big flurry against Vic Santos’ growling bass, then the two lead the stampede. The closest thing to Social D here is Fuck the World; after that, the band flip the script with Ninja, a bizarre zombie story. They wind up the set with the fastest numbers of the night, Salvation and then the refreshingly un-PC Riot Girls. The album also includes somewhat cleaner (clean is a relative word) studio “demo” versions of Ninja and Fuck the World.

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Tantalizing Original Surf Rock from the Jagaloons in the East Village Friday Night

Unsteady Freddie is sort of the Alan Lomax of East Coast surf music. Practically every month since the early zeros, he’s made the shlep in from out of town to Otto’s Shrunken Head, where he hosts what can often be a marathon night of surf rock. The crowds have thinned out over the years, but he’s still at it. His youtube channel has thousands of videos from over ten years worth of shows by bands who otherwise probably never would have played here.

This month’s lineup – on Friday the 6th – is pretty characteristic of what you can find there these days. There are cover bands at 9 and 10 PM, then the Jagaloons – who draw on spaghetti western and hotrod music as well as surf – play at 11. Jangly New York original surf rock cult heroes the Supertones headline sometime around midnight, revisiting their glory days when they used to pack the old Luna Lounge on Saturday nights.

If you’re into twang and clang and tons of reverb, you should grab both the Jagaloons’ ep and single, which are up at Bandcamp as name-your-price downloads. The first one, Knife Bumps, kicks off with the title track, built around a catchy descending fuzztone guitar riff, in s Peter Gunne Theme vein.

They do a haphazard cover of the Ventures’ Journey to the Stars and follow it with the wry border rock theme Sexo en la Playa. Then they pull out the repeaterbox and all the fuzz and whiplash volleys of drums for Creature From the Jagaloon Lagoon. After a skittish take of another Ventures classic, Penetration, they end with Deadeye, which has a long, dramatic buildup and then careens all over the place through a catchy bunch of changes before modulating.

The single is titled All Surfed Up and includes Kanagawal, a sort of twin-guitar update on Pipeline, and the spaghetti western-tinged Rancho Relaxo, their best song so far. Considering how imaginative, and also how purist their songwriting is, it’s a good bet that the band have tightened up their sound since throwing these recordings together.

Goth Music Rises From the Grave in Williamsburg Friday Night

Long after it seemed that emo had finally driven a stake through what was left of goth music, turns out that it’s very much alive – in Williamsburg, of all places. There’s a twinbill at Muchmore’s on Dec 15 at 11 that could be a real throwback to the sounds of the Meatpacking District dungeons in the 80s, awash in digital reverb and tight new wave beats,. It’s not clear whether Safe Hex or Picture One are playing first, but their sounds are very similar. Likewise, each band has an album up as a free download at Bandcamp.

Sidereal, by Safe Hex, opens with Watched Us Fade, which sets the scene: stiff 2/4 drum machine beat, brisk new wave bass and echoey downstroke guitar that pinwheels into a splatter of dreampop. The vocals are the only giveaway that this wasn’t made in the mid-80s in the shadow of the Cure.

The second cut, With What Sacrifice shifts from steadily pulsing early New Order into a more enveloping, hypnotic dreampop ambience. Rachael, with its soaring, watery bass, icy pulsar guitars and ominous chromatic riffage, is the one dead ringer for the Cure circa 1984 here.

Forgotten Bodies, which closes the album, is both its fastest, most atmospheric and anthemic cut, building to a catchy crescendo before the skittish staccato guitar returns.

Picture One’s all-instrumental album sounds less like a band and more like a bedroom project with guitars, lo-fi keys and drum machine. The opening track, Bunkbed Tapes follows a familiar, tense pattern as multi-instrumentalist Thomas Pinkney’s layers of Roland Juno-style faux organ and piano enter the picture and then recede. It segues into the aptly titled miniature Gray Signals, followed by Light Beyond This, Light Before, snappy bass strutting and winding through spare, reverb-drenched rainy-day guitar.

The cover of the Cleaners From Venus’ Only a Shadow is more than a shadow of the Cure’s Pictures of You sped up a bit, with a neat bit of a surf edge (or did was it the Cure who ripped off the original?). Things slow down with the dirgey, cinematic theme Red Rainbow and then pick up with A Dream Like Death Like, one of many tracks here screaming out for a full band to play it behind some black-clad guy who can really croon about things like desperate winter moons and lonely werewolves – ok, maybe not that, but you get the picture.

Robot Heart is another Cure soundalike. anchored by a fast, vamping, percussive bassline. The fleeting closing track, Montrose motors along over an anthemic four-chord riff driven by the bass, swooshy atmospherics looming in the background. There are plenty of gloomy neoromantic one-man-band types all over youtube, but it’s impossible to think of any writing goth songs without words in a vein as catchy as this.

A Playful Change of Pace for New Orleans Chanteuse Carsie Blanton

On one hand, for Carsie Blanton to put out a record of Lynchian retro rock is kind of like the Squirrel Nut Zippers making a heavy metal album. But the Zippers are great musicians – who knows, maybe they’d pull it off. Turns out Blanton is just as adept at allusive, nocturnal early 60s Nashville pop as the oldtimey swing she made her mark in. Her latest album, So Ferocious, is streaming at her webpage and available as a name-your-price download, the best advertising she could possibly want for her upcoming show at 7 PM on Feb 21 at the Mercury. Cover is $10.

Although it’s a switch for her, Blanton is just as badass and funny as she is out in front of a swing band. She sings and plays uke here, backed by guitarist Pete Donnelly, keyboardist Pat Firth, bassist Joe Plowman and drummer Jano Rix. One of the funniest tracks is Fat and Happy, a return to Blanton’s oldtimey days: the theme is “just wait and see,” and the way it turns out is too LMAO to give away.

Fever Dream builds a surreal New Orleans after-the-storm scenario, darkly spare bass paired against sepulchral toy piano. Hot Night offers a bouncy, energetic contrast, spiced with a distant brass chart; if Springsteen really wanted to write an oldschool soul song, he would have done it like this. Another nocturnal soul ballad, Lovin Is Easy pairs a spare string section against similarly low-key electric piano and Blanton’s unselfconsciously matter-of-fact, tender vocals.

Ravenous, a chirpy look back at adolescent friskiness, has a roller-rink charm that brings to mind both the Kinks and the Cucumbers, a mashup that Blanton revisits on the understatedly biting title track.. She turns the clock back anothe twenty years in Scoundrel, a coy Phil Spector pop tale about a couple of troublemakers.

Musically speaking, the album’s best track is probably The Animal I Am, a defiant individualist’s anthem set to artsy Jeff Lynne-style Nashville gothic pop. The album’s darkest track is To Be Known, part brooding Jimmy Webb chamber pop, part early BeeeGees existentialist lament. “Isn’t it al you ever wanted, to be alone?” Blanton ponders. Or is it “To be known?”. There’s also Vim and Vigor, a funnier take on what Amy Winehouse was up to before she self-destructed. Download this irrepressibly fun, dynamic mix and get to know one of the real genuine individualists in retro rock and many other styles as well.

Raptly Tuneful Middle Eastern-Flavored Pastorales From Surface to Air

It would have been fun to see Surface to Air at Barbes last night. The trio – guitarist Jonathan Goldberger, who rarely plays acoustic, alongside bassist Jonti Siman and tabla player Rohin Khemani – also doesn’t play out much either. Their sparse, warmly tuneful, hypnotically intriguing album is available as a name-your-price download from Bandcamp.

The opening track is aptly titled Simple: built on an elegantly catchy rainy-day minor-key theme played with meticulous touch by Goldberger, it centers around a kinetic tabla rhythm. Heysatan is even more spare, Goldberger’s gentle, purposeful, catchy tune again centered around the rhythm section’s steady anchor. Siman’s similarly easygoing bass intro is a clever fake: as the briskly saturnine, Palestinian-tinged theme unwinds, it sounds like an acoustic sketch for a David Lynch soundtrack set in the most war-torn territory in Gaza. Siman’s drone anchors a suspenseful interlude that Goldberger spins and spirals out of with hints of Django Reinhardt.

The slow, somber Odalisque is sort of a bolero counterpart to a Trio Joubran-style Middle Eastern dirge. Matanzas is Goldberger’s platform for using a catchy, melancholy flamenco-inflected theme to set up a swoopy, morose bass solo. With its steady sway, Arcana follows a steadily crescendoing folk noir tangent that brightens as it goes along.

The Sleep in Your Eyes opens with a dusky, sepulchral improvisation, builds to a spare, galloping pulse and then recedes back to spacious, pensive solo guitar. The final track is the ballad Waltz for Celia, the closest thing to postbop here, spiced with the occasional levantine or south Asian riff over rather ominous low-end percussion, with a gracefully uneasy bass solo.

Is this Middle Eastern music? Sure. Indian music? Rhythmically, yes. Jazz? Why not? Download this delicious disc and decide for yourself. Thanks to Barbes for booking this fantastic band, who otherwise would have flown under the radar here. Goldberger is in constant demand in New York as a sideman and plays with a ton of groups, notably violinist Dana Lyn’s psychedelic, ecologically themed Mother Octopus outfit.

Los Disolados Blast Into the Latino Punk Festival at Don Pedro’s This Weekend

Punk rock has been balkanized and co-opted so much over the years that it’s a wonder there are any bands left who are true to the fearless, funny, politically-fueled spirit that made punk so much fun and so relevant in the first place. But there are. Sometimes you have to look for them. One good place to find a bunch of them this weekend is Don Pedro’s, where there’s a latino punk festival happening this Friday and Saturday. The Friday night lineup starts at around midnight and includes shorts sets by AtruthNamatay sa ingay, Boston’s Los Disolados and Chicago’s Autonomy.

Los Disolados’ new album, sarcastically titled Bonus Trax, is up at Bandcamp as a name-your-price download. The power trio includes guitarist Ghandi G, guitarist/drummer Roberspierre and bassist Mateo W. Everybody in the band contributes vocals; lyrics are in Spanish and as gleefully grim as you would expect. The first track, Atentado Terrorista opens with a blare of sampled martial brass-band music and then the band kicks in with a chromatically-charged menace. The vocals blast back and forth; you can imagine the crowd at a show roaring “terrorista” back at them. Then there’s a icy, echoey guitar solo.

The band gives Profecia Malparida a hard-hitting midtempo minor-key intro and then hits a machinegunning sprint, then goes back again. No Humano is another slow-then-lickety-split number with a blend of watery and gritty guitars. Dusted is noisy and really short, as is the band’s signature song, Disolados. The cut before that, Maquina de Guerra is the most oldschool.

On one hand, songs about terrorist attacks, drug damage, inhumanity, war machines and inscecapable solitude have all been done before: you might be able to find one of each on a random UK Subs album from the 80s. On the other hand, Los Disolados put a lot of imagination into their songs and have a sound that doesn’t rip off a thousand older bands. And their music reflects the state of the world we live in. If you’re not comfortable in that world, you’re not alone. If that’s not punk rock, nothing is. Bring your friends and make new ones at Don Pedro’s this weekend.

Funk Pterodactyl Air Out Their Trippy, Danceable New Album at One of Brooklyn’s Best Outdoor Concert Series

There’s an awesome free monthly concert series this summer at the People’s Garden at the corner of Broadway and Greene in Bushwick, run by the folks behind deliciously slinky psychedelic cumbia band Consumata Sonidera. This month’s installment kicks off at around 3 or so this Saturday afternoon, July 23 and features both salsa dura band Grupo Descarrilao and the psychedelically cinematic Funk Pterodactyl. It’s not clear who’s playing first, but both bands are good.The closest train is the J to Kosciusko St., there’ll be food trucks and delicious vegetarian tamales available, and all-you-can-drink keg beer for $10. What a party, right?

Funk Pterodactyl have a brand-new album, Heights, streaming at Bandcamp and available as a name-your-price download. The opening cut, Starlit, kicks off a distantly uneasy, airconditioned Mulholland Drive noir nocturne, the theme moving to the background with Wesley Maples’ sax airy and calm behind frontman/lyricist Yahzeed Divine’s positivity-charged rap. When the lyrics drop out, Maples keeps the enigmatic, misty ambience going. By contrast, Super Funky is true to its title, with a tightly wound, pouncing oldschool groove from Alejandro Chapa’s bass and Ian Barnet’s drums, Eitan Akman’s chicken-scratch guitar contrasting with Cale Hawkins’ bubbly keys.

Without Dreaming is a psychedelic blend of the first two tracks’ styles, with pillowy vocals from Sarah Mount – listen real close to the bassline and you’ll hear a classic Ian Dury party anthem. Yahzeed Divine’s rapidfire Raekwon-ish wordplay adds a devious element to Glowing Eyes, a mashup of twinkling boudoir soul and straight-up, no-nonsense funk. As far as the final cut, Icarus, you know what that one’s about, right? The band builds it artfully, slowly shifting out of a simple, atmospheric, trickily rhythmic theme and then back, a soft landing for a high flyer. There will be plenty of highs like that at Saturday’s show in the park. 

Walter Ego Brings His Hilarious, Edgy Marathon Recording Project to a Saturday Night Show

Walter Ego could be characterized as Elliott Smith with a better sense of humor and command of a more diverse number of styles. Bass is Walter Ego’s main axe, but he also plays pretty much every other instrument you’d want in a rock band. Last year, he challenged himself to record two songs a month. The result is his 24 in 2015 playlist, streaming at his site and available as a free download. He’s playing his dozen favorite tracks from the project this Saturday night, March 26 at 7 PM at Sidewalk.

Much as a lot of these songs are very funny, they’re also relevant. Walter Ego doesn’t suffer fools gladly, he abhors gun violence and blind obedience. The project’s first songs are typically just a single instrument and vocals; as it goes on, the songs get more fleshed out, Walter Ego as a one-man orchestra. The first number, Triangle Player, is a characteristically tragicomic one. See, Walter Ego is also a classical music fan. This elegant piano waltz contemplates the job of an orchestral triangle player, who doesn’t have a very hard job…yet it has some unique frustrations. The second January tune, Why Can’t It Stay Exactly Like This Forever is guitar and vocals, a subtly sarcastic look at how change might not be such a bad thing after all:

Dylan goes electric
John Henry is replaced
She loves you not, she doesn’t care
Dylan stays acoustic
John Henry keeps his job
She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah

The punchline after that, like a lot of them here, is too good to spoil.

February’s first song is a darkly chromatic noir cabaret piano number, We’re Going In the Wrong Direction, with another metaphorically-charged lyric and one of the album’s more vividly icy vocals. Be My Enemy also has a noir cabaret feel, an irresistibly amusing reference to an iconic Pink Floyd song, and the kind of subtly savage political message that will recur many times throughout these songs.

March’s first song is In Threes, an art-rock piano ballad, Walter Ego having fun with numbers and celebrity death myths. The second one is The Banishment Button, a swinging phaser-guitar rocker that seems like it’s going to be punk rock but has a lot more depth than that. April’s recordings include the darkly catchy art-rock anthem Everything’s Captured, weighing the “pros” and cons of the surveillance state, and Do Over, a sardonic new wave vignette weighing the dilemmas of ontogeny recapitulating philogeny.

The diptych Difficult Street is a slinky, sarcastic organ-and-drums number told from the point of view of a spoiled one-tenth-of-one-percenter. After that, the Moody Blues-esque folk-rock anthem Making Money – a droll counterfeiter’s tale – makes a good segue. June is represented by This Is What Happens, a coy right-brain-versus-left-brain scenario, and the absolutely brilliant I Woke Up In the Modern World, a vintage Springsteenesque sendup to paleoconservatives.

Set to swinging parlor piano pop, My Manifesto offers a subtly creepy look inside the head of a Unabomber type. If You Could See Inside My Head continues the theme – as goofy as this shuffle is, in a way it’s even creepier: “I guess that you think that amatuer brain surgery is fun,” the narrator taunts.

The surrealistically bouncy Radio Backwards is a twistedly hilarious counterpart to Elvis Costello’s Radio Radio. Say What’s On Your Mind take a snidely slinkys slap upside the head of a passive-aggressive type, one of the few songs here where Walter Ego really cuts loose on the bass.

Who Says I Have to Be Consistent is one of the funniest and most spot-on tracks here: as usual, it’s the song’s implication that’s funniest. The punchy psych-pop tune What Was I Thinking About? introduces horns for the first time; it’s one of the most poignant numbers here, bringing to mind Lee Feldman‘s recent work. By contrast, the swaying paisley underground-tinged White Bones offers a cruelly accurate answer to anyone who might dispute the science that establishes Africa as the birthplace of humankind.

Electric lead guitar makes its entramce in The Red Mercury Blues. a salute to a dangerous element that’s not easily labeled. I Am Here Now is the most surreal number here, a vamping Velvets-ish look at a post-Facebook world, with a trick ending.

The playlist winds up with three of its strongest tracks. With its jungly drums, blippy organ and synth brass, Welcome to Us blends elements of Afrobeat and psychedelia: finally, twenty tracks into the album, Walter Ego takes a guitar solo, and it’s good! Give Me a Gun For Christmas is just plain hilarious as a spoof of Xmas songs in general. And Martin Luther King Zombie Killer is just about as amusing, imagining a secret life for the civil rights leader, who “had a dream but also had a nightmare.” As usual, the subtext is murderously funny, and cruelly accurate. If the best album of the year is measured in terms of both quality and quantity, it’s going to be next to impossible for anyone to top this in 2016.

Above the Moon Bring Their Edgy Intensity to a Jersey City Triplebill Friday Night

This Friday, March 11 starting at 8 there’s a solid bill of three female-fronted acts at the Citizen, 332 2nd St. in Jersey City, about six blocks from the Grove St. Path station. The opening band, Pepperwine, works a sassy saloon blues vibe. Headliner Debra Devi, one of the most exhilarating and bluesily purist lead guitarists in psychedelic rock, plays a rare solo set.. In between there’s Above the Moon. who have an edgy, very 90s sound, blending noisy indie rock and propulsive powerpop in the same vein as Versus. Frontwoman/guitarist Kate Griffin has an edge in her voice that brings to mind Fontaine Toups and Ursa Minor‘s Michelle Casillas, although Above the Moon have a heavier sound, with their two guitars.

Their debut ep is up at Bandcamp as a free download. The opening track, Coat, has Griffin and lead player James Harrison’s guitars punching at each other up to the big, catchy chorus where they join forces. It’s an escape anthem of sorts: “It’s so warm I’ll leave my coat behind, for someone else to find, I won’t need it anymore,” Griffin asserts.

Bassist Shawn Murphy and drummer John Gramuglia give Easy a brisk groove that anchors it rather than letting it drift into skittish Strokes territory. Out of the Woods,with its burning, multitracked downstroke guitars and Griffin’s calmly warm vocals, is the closest thing to Versus here;  The final cut is a kiss-off number, Loving & Leaving, Griffin clear and resolute over a web of stabbing, bellicose minor-key guitar.

These songs have a sense of defiance and optimism despite it all. Blast this on your way home from work or school and feel good about yourself again. Discovering bands like Above the Moon makes all the drudge work of a music blog worth the effort.

A Smartly Enigmatic New Album From the Shapeshifting Parlor Walls

Parlor Walls – part of the Famous Swords art collective – call themselves trash jazz. It’s a modest handle for their ferociously kinetic, shapeshifting, noisy songs. Much as their sound is distinctly teens, their esthetic looks back to the no wave era of James Chance & the Contortions and Lydia Lunch’s various projects, if with a lot more focus and emphasis on melody and memorable hooks. In music-school terms, their songs are pretty much through-composed. Not only do verses and choruses tend not to repeat: the music just flows, or leaps and bounds, rather than following a distinct progression. Tempos and meters shift in a split-second.

Onstage they’re a lot of fun to watch. Drummer Chris Mulligan anchors the music with a mighty rumble and crash while playing organ, ambitiously, with his left hand. Frontwoman/guitarist Alyse Lamb spins and pounces and fires off shards of noise one second, then evilly lingering, noirish phrases the next. Alto saxophonist Kate Mohanty provides a calm yet similarly brooding presence with her resonant, minimalist lines and astringent, boxcutter tone. Parlor Walls also find a way to join a lot of really good lineups onstage. This Thursday, January 14 they’re at Aviv at 496 Morgan Ave. (Division/Beadel) in Williamsburg starting at 8 with the restlessly noisy, hypnotic, surprisingly groove-driven, bitingly lyrical Pill, then the more assaultive, noisier Guardian Alien, Parlor Walls at around 10, darkly psychedelic art-rock legend Martin Bisi and finally guitarist Arian Shafiee of dance-punks Guerilla Toss at the top of the bill. Cover is $10.

Parlor Walls’ latest album, Cut is up as a name-your-price download at Bandcamp. It opens with Bloodsport, a maze of guitar loops quickly giving way to a mashup of circling indie classical riffs and what sounds like wry faux urban corporate pop. The Key, clocking in at just a little over two minutes, sets haphazardly lingering guitar, warping organ and sax over a drum stampede.

Mulligan and Mohanty work a creepy/jaunty contrast for all it’s worth on Me Me My, Lamb adding a similar dichotomy with her menacing guitar flares and enigmatically playful vocals: “Push me out,” is the mantra. The build up to bell-like hypnotic ambience over Mulligan’s tersely dancing drums as the surprisingly dreampop-influenced Sundress reaches toward escape velocity is a lot of fun. Likewise, the final track, Birthday, which rings and clangs as it follows an unexpectedly warm, Afrobeat-tinged triplet groove before a tempo change, Lamb and Mohanty throwing off sparks over Mulligan’s pulsing syncopation. Get this album, crank it and revel in the fact that we live in such uneasy, interesting times.