Photos by Nick Pereslugoff

Studio efforts can often belie a band’s strengths. It’s not too surprising that you’ll often find a band that shines just a bit more in a live context, but it’s the pure musical talent that often seems a constant between concerts and studio recordings. On Thursday night, however, as Here We Go Magic celebrated the release of their latest album, A Different Ship, it wasn’t any sort of energy or intangibles that made their set so entertaining. No, Here We Go Magic maintained a similar laid back ethos to their studio recordings. It was their spectacular musicianship that was on display. Though present in their studio work, obviously, seeing the precision with which each member of the band attacked their respective instruments in person made their talent even more apparent.
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Photos by Philip Cosores

It’s not exactly the most revealing of realisations, but watching Bowerbirds play on Saturday night really emphasized to me how much having great musical chemistry between two people can enhance their personal connection, and vice versa. The break up and subsequent make-up between Bowerbirds’ co-leaders Philip Moore and Beth Tacular is an underlying theme in their fantastic new album The Clearing, and watching them play onstage this connection seemed to add more to their performance. They seemed so connected with each other that it made me think that when things had become tough between them, if they had stopped fighting verbally, and decided to have a conversation through instruments instead, the whole break up could have been avoided. Nevertheless, love always finds a way, and now the band is back together and all the stronger for it.

Opening band, Dry The River, also have a similar kind of connection, but as a friends-as-close-as-brothers way. The word has obviously spread about the London five-piece as the venue was fairly packed throughout their set. The five guys’ scruffy, unkempt appearance perfectly suited their bombastic folk style, and as they sung it was easy to imagine them as a pack of wandering nomads that like to go on dangerous adventures and then write songs of celebration to commemorate their triumphs. They have the loud-quiet dynamic down pat, and although the bursts of energy that generally herald the arrival of another grand chorus are the obvious peaks in their set, the true highlight came at the quietest moment of all when the guys stepped back from their microphones and sang a cappella in perfect harmony. The crowd was rapt with attention and you could have heard a pin drop at that point – a notable feat for an up and coming opening act from across the pond.

Bowerbirds decided to subvert the norm with the opening of their set, opting not to play a new song, nor a loud one, opting to go with “Hooves,” the quiet opening track from their debut album Hymns For A Dark Horse. Now, I admire the attempt, but unfortunately it didn’t quite work as there was plenty of chatter and the fragility of the song was somewhat dulled by this – it seems the band had to earn the quiet from the audience, as Dry The River had. On the other hand, those die-hard fans down the front probably blocked out all sounds except for those coming from the stage.

The show really got going a few songs in when Beth Tacular set her accordion aside and took up a new position behind the keyboard in order to play some new songs. The combination of “Walk The Furrows” and “Tuck The Darkness In” switched on anyone in the audience whose attention may have been lacking and for the rest of the set Bowerbirds gave them plenty of reasons for their attention to remain focused on them. Another new song, “Hush,” goes down as the best of the night in this writer’s humble opinion, as it saw the band starting off with the most plain of instrument combinations (violin and cello omitted), but with one of the most tricky-sounding arrangements, including a break down that saw four of the five members playing some sort of percussion. Plenty of these songs seemed to hold even more emotional weight in the live setting, so “This Year” made a nice, somewhat-lighthearted change of pace, but with songs as good as the regal “Chimes” on show, no complaints could be had that Bowerbirds’ set tended more towards the slow and mid-paced numbers.

As the beautiful dying notes of “Now We Hurry On” faded away it seemed like Bowerbirds had drawn the perfect line under their night’s performance, and if they had ended there everybody would have been satisfied. However, the band returned to perform a couple more; “Northern Lights,” which saw audience members mouthing along the words silently, and ultimately “Overcome With Light,” the most delicate song of the night, which was met with the crisp silence from the audience that they had undoubtedly earned with their performance. They seized the opportunity by the horns, and by the time we were leaving the venue not a single person could be said to have been unimpressed.

Dive. Photos by Nick Pereslugoff

Sometimes even the best laid plans falter. Or you know, despite the fact that everything seems in line, you still might not get into the show plan on covering. As I head out on Saturday night, my assumption was that I was headed to see Alcest and Deafheaven two of the most dividing figures — well outside of Liturgy at least — in the post-millennial black metal scene. Unfortunately as I walked up to Public Assembly, I was informed that (due to age restrictions) I would not be permitted admittance to the venue. But the night, and the subway fare to get there, would not be lost.

After a few phone calls and a bit of discussion with the photographer I’d dragged with me, we determined that we’d do the thing that you do in Brooklyn when plans fall through. We went to see Dive. See, Dive is the equivalent of that cover band that plays every bar across town, except, well, Dive is good. Though they’ve since tempered their live productivity, there was a point in time when it seemed like this Captured Tracks signee was playing a show in Brooklyn every night of the week, so it seemed a safe bet to go catch their set. Fronted by Z. Cole Smith, guitarist for fellow Brooklyn indie rockers Beach Fossils, Dive’s brand of kraut inflected indie rock seemed a suitable replacement for the show we planned on seeing and in 285 Kent — which serves as their home base of sorts — they were sure to be at their best.
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Photos by Philip Cosores

Relief is not something I often feel at a show, but it is one of the many things I felt at White Rabbits’ concert last night. Relief because, prior to the support act going on, the venue was looking pretty empty, and I was worried that it might remain that way. I was worried because White Rabbits are one of the bands most deserving of a strong fanbase out there; they create idiosyncratic music, they tour a lot, and they seem like genuinely nice people. So when they came on, and I turned around to see that the whole place was packed, I was filled with relief. Then as the performance went on and cheers started coming in for fan faves and people could be seen singing along, it was mostly just happiness that took over.
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All photos by Matt Draper / The Holloweyed for BPM

Burgerama is a one day festival put on at The Observatory in Santa Ana in Orange County by record store, label and local heroes Burger Records. This was the first year they’ve held the festival, and they drew in an impressive lineup, which in turn brought in an impressive crowd, selling out the venue. We were surprised that this had sold out without any problem since a lot of these bands play in Los Angeles, only an hour’s drive away, on a very regular basis, but upon entering the venue it all made sense – the crowd was surf-punk teens of Orange County, the kind of kids who can’t make it up to LA on a week day because it’s a school night, or maybe they don’t even have a car; the kind of kids who don’t get to see as much live music as maybe they’d like to; the kind of kids who, when a lineup like this lands on their doorstep, are going to go along and mosh the fuck out. And that’s exactly what they did. And it was pretty awesome.

The Strange Boys

We arrived a little late to the festival, and the fact that we had already missed high octane acts like FIDLAR and White Fence was clear from the sweat on the brow of each person in the pit area of the main room.

It was The Strange Boys’ turn to play, and even though their music isn’t exactly downbeat, it did seem like a relatively relaxed set on a day like this. Sensing the urgency for energy coming from the audience, the band played less piano-centric songs than the last time I saw them and focused more on their more garage-y sounding songs from their oeuvre. The crowd appreciated this and by the second half of the set they were finding just about any rhythm to pogo along to in unison.

Ty Segall

Ty Segall’s live show is something of a little legend; from basements, to garages, to clubs, to festivals, he and his band are known to tear things apart. This was my first time seeing him play, and he did not disappoint. The set veered wildly from straightforward pulverizing garage rock, to songs that were layered with destructive distortion. While his whole band (which included Mikal Cronin on bass) remained active throughout, nobody was as erratic and excited as Segall himself who thrashed his long hair around, got up on speaker stacks, went right over to the edge of the audience to provoke them on, and just seemed to have a serious bounce in his step everywhere he went. Segall even took the opportunity to play a new song, which seemed as instantly catchy as anything else he played – and was certainly as quickly mosh-worthy judging from the audience’s reaction.

Segall stage dived a few times, and one attempt to throw his guitar onto the crowd and catch up with it to play it was fairly unsuccessful, but unperturbed he tried something bigger. Firstly, he put his microphone stand into the crowd and tried to get them to hold it upright, and then he attempted to stand on the crowd alongside it and sing and play guitar. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was rather lopsided, but nothing about this scene is about doing things cleanly or perfectly, so it was still pretty fucking awesome and a great way to end their performance.

OFF!

OFF!’s live performances come across in much the same way as their recorded material: in short, brutal bursts – except it’s much louder. Backed by his enthusiastic band, Keith Morris screamed his garbled-yet-awesome vocals consistently and precisely down the microphone. The backing of the bass, drum and guitar rambling along, slowing to a crawl and then re-shifting gear into pulverization mode as tight as ever, was repeated time and time again, but they’re just so good at it, it didn’t really matter. And each song, despite their brevity, made its own mark. All the noise coming from the band fanned the flames coming from Morris’ mouth, both during songs and when speaking between them about various things that he loves and hates. The band took the opportunity to air some tracks from their upcoming full length, and needless to say, fans of their First Four EPs will be deighted come May.

Wavves

The headliner for the evening was Nathan Williams’ Wavves, who maybe don’t quite have as much edge as the previous two acts, but it was evident that the crowd was down to mosh along to their more streamlined and catchy punk pop from the off, as all kinds of clothing from bras to shoes were thrown up onstage more or less from beginning to end. They kicked off with “King of the Beach,” which got kids moving and singing, and the volume and energy stayed consistent throughout. Williams somewhat annoyingly kept mentioning how drunk he was throughout the set, but he redeemed himself midway when he forced his band to replay a song against their will, because he thought they’d played it too drunkenly and could do much better – and he was right.

The set consisted almost exclusively of songs from King of the Beach and the recently released Life Sux EP. The highlight for me was “Idiot” from King of the Beach, but saying which was the highlight for the crowd is an impossibility since everyone down the front seemed to know every word to every song. By this point crowdsurfing had gotten pretty out of control too, with people jumping off ledges onto the top of the crowd – which only added to the fun.

Wavves rounded out their hour-long set confidently, and although the audience would have loved them to continue, it was nearing 1am – surely past their bed time?

I figured it was about time I’d see an Odd Future show. Having followed Tyler and crew since their early stream of releases, I’ve watched their rapid rise with interest. I’d never been quite as consumed by them as kids just a bit younger, but it’s been refreshing to watch a more-or-less organically rising hip hop phenomenon take hold for a new generation of listeners.
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It’d be fair to say that I was more curious than excited as I prepared to catch my first Poliça show. They’ve consumed a fair amount of hype since Bon Iver declared them his current favorite, but while I’d found their debut perfectly pleasant, it hadn’t struck as deep a chord with me as it seems to have for Mr. Vernon. To me, the record was a collection of interesting ideas, potentially brilliant in theory, but the final product had failed to quite reach its noble goals. This isn’t to detract from the album, it’s quite good, but leaves the impression there is “more” to find in Poliça’s fledgling sound. So, again, I was curious; curious as to how it would all turn out in a live setting and as to just what the Minneapolis band was capable of.
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This being my first time seeing The Magnetic Fields playing live, I had no idea what to expect. Combining a band that has a long history with a classy downtown seated theater venue that has a much longer one, on a Friday night, I had my suspicions that I might sitting amongst a crowd that was apathetic, merely out on a Friday night to see a band they liked when they released 69 Love Songs back in college. I was totally wrong. The crowd at The Orpheum Theater was attentive, passionate and grateful throughout the evening. I still believe I was amongst a bookish bunch, but heck, so are The Magnetic Fields, and so am I, and together we had a great time.

I had previously seen opening act Bachelorette play at the El Rey Theater, supporting Low. Although Bachelorette is a one-person act (that person being New Zealand native Annabel Alpers), the project’s sound was much more suited to this larger venue than the last in which I saw it performed. Alpers’ grand compositions really found space in which to breathe inside the tall theater, and her swirling synths rose up to the very top of the seemingly-cavernous venue. At times the basis of a Bachelorette song seems as though it could easily transform into an 80s pop gem, but instead Alpers prefers to keep the songs introspective, using a sing-songy drawl with added reverb to bring character to the sound. I think another advantageous aspect for her of playing at The Orpheum was that she was playing to a seated audience; an audience that could get comfortable and really concentrate on what she was doing – which can seem simple, but further inspection at all the equipment she had strewn around her paints a different picture. From this seated vantage point the crowd is more easily lulled into the sound and once they were there, they were certainly more than happy to inhabit that warm aural space for the duration of her 45 minute set.

For a band that made quite a big deal about making a return to synthesizers for their latest album, The Magnetic Fields had surprisingly few onstage with them for their performance – precisely one in fact, and a very small one at that, placed atop Stephin Merritt’s pump organ, alongside his melodica. This, I quickly came to realize as they opened with i’s lead off track “I Die,” was because these instruments (grand piano, Spanish guitar, acoustic guitar and cello accompanied Merritt’s aforementioned array) were what the band were most comfortable with, and with them they could draw from any time period in their 20+ year history. The second song of the evening was “A Chicken With Its Head Cut Off,” the first of many cuts played from their beloved 69 Love Songs, and Merritt’s sardonic drawl sounded more fitting than ever. It wasn’t until the third song of the set when they finally played something new, opting for “Your Girlfriend’s Face” to brighten the mood with its chipper lyrics and Claudia Gonson taking over lead vocals for the first time.

Throughout the night the band strived not only to satisfy fans of all ages (9 of their 10 albums were represented in the 27-song set) but to surprise them too. This was both in the non-obvious song choices (the delightful b-side “Plant White Roses,” and debut album cut “Tar-Heel Boy” are just a couple from out of left-field), and the decision to have songs sung by different members than those who sung on the recorded version – Merritt taking the lead on “Come Back From San Francisco” was probably the high watermark on this, with his deep booming voice betraying more agony than the wistful vocals on the Shirley Simms-sung studio version. The new songs nestled in nicely amongst the older ones, aided greatly by the fact that that the garish synths of Love At The Bottom of the Sea were replaced by more traditional instruments (although kazoo was used on “The Horrible Party” to add some more of that color). This made a lot of them sound like theme tunes to children’s cartoons (by no means a bad thing) and some it changed more profoundly; none more so than peppy album highlight “Quick!,” which became a melancholic affair amidst the minor keys of the piano and cello.

Although it would be foolish to waste my time and yours by mentioning all the highlights of the set, there are a couple that should be given attention. For me, it was the sadder songs that really stood out, from the heartbreaking “Busby Berkeley Dreams,” brought to life by Merritt’s pump organ and impassioned vocals; to “It’s Only Time,” a song full of almost foolish hope. Before the final song of the set both Claudia Gonson and Shirley Simms oddly left the stage, but it became clear why as the three remaining men played “Smile! No One Cares How You Feel,” a song officially attributed to The Gothic Archies and one for the true Stephin Merritt fans to savor.

The Magnetic Fields were not an exciting band to watch, all five of them remaining firmly locked at their stations all night, but their grace and good humor made up for any lacking in stage presence. The band were more often than not ready to offer up quips or stories behind any of their songs, unafraid to show their age (Merritt seemed bamboozled that the lead single from their new album, “Andrew In Drag,” was released as a ‘limited edition’) and consistently provoking laughs from the audience (a brief discussion between Gonson and Merritt about who they’d forgotten to invite was just one highlight). All in all, The Magnetic Fields have reached the point in their career where they’re ready to please audiences, because that seems to be what pleases them (although they jokingly admonished a shouted request from the crowd, stating that they hadn’t played requests in years). By performing 27 songs from all eras of the band, and each played with as much passion and fervor as the day they were written, The Magnetic Fields have ensured that they are still a must-see band in 2012.

The Magnetic Fields set:

I Die
A Chicken With Its Head Cut Off
Your Girlfriend’s Face
Reno Dakota
Come Back From San Francisco
No One Will Ever Love You
I’ve Run Away to Join The Fairies
Plant White Roses
Drive On Driver
My Husband’s Pied-A-Terre
Time Enough for Rocking
The Horrible Party
Smoke and Mirrors
Goin’ Back to the Country
Andrew in Drag
Quick!
Busby Berkeley Dreams
Boa Constrictor
The Book of Love
Fear of Trains
You Must Be Out of Your Mind
Grand Canyon
Swinging London
It’s Only Time
Smile! No One Cares How You Feel [The Gothic Archies cover]

Tar-Heel Boy
Forever and a Day