Ravioli Me Away
Ah Ravioli, the most radical of pastas. While those ugly strutting spaghetti strings roll around the pan singing Robin Thicke and sliming together like a fraternity gang bang, Ravioli just chills, mysterious. Ravioli, the edible present with a mystery inside, happiest drizzled in olive oil with a bit of grated cheese. Unpretentious. Gregarious, but not some little hollow sheeple like those mothefucking macaronis. The perfect structure of a square pasta pillow fused with all improvised spontaneity of a mushed up filling. Prepared for hours but rustled up in minutes.
Listen to those mewing synths. Feel each word, like a thrusted upper, cut straight out of “Self Defence for Women and Girls.” Catch that creeping bassline.
I’ve been blasting this tune for a few months now, wondering how it could get any better. A video, that’s how. One with PVC vogueing, bleak post-industrial PowerPoint backdrops, hand sandwiches, and the best use of a can of Boost on record (I’m keeping a record). As the songs joyous coda implodes into a monologue that would have made Polly Styrene proud, I’m left with the taste of something utterly empowering, yet clearly not aimed at empowering me, a bloke by most societal standards and afforded a privileged cat-call free life on that basis. Unlike almost all my women friends, I’ve never had to shout down a prowling arsehole in the street. Here’s an almighty shout-down, with anger and humor alchemised into a uniquely liberatory amalgam. It’s been a long time since a song has left my head in such a feminist tangle, and been such righteous fun.
Ravioli Me Away release The Inevitable Album on August 18 through Good Job Records, followed by a UK tour (also Inevitable).
My good pal Landon is convinced Tonstartssbandht is the best thing in music right now. Well, one of a VERY VERY FEW (maybe three?) BEST THINGS. I think what I find so impressive about their style is that complete blend of jam and practice and completely controlled mind-broken instrumental freak-out-to-breakdown swag they front seamlessly. And seeing them game live is even more of a treat, ‘cause it just proves how they DON’T fuck around. 12 strings on stage. A drums set that – even when left alone – looks like a tornado. And a presence that is both humble and emotional in performance.
Last year’s Russian Tour Tape 2013 with Dirty Beaches went HARD in the paint, and since then I’ve been hooked. But when I write “since then…” I mean the moment my battery died while parked in a single car spot, in the rain, and I had to drive my fiancee’s car across the lawn in order to jump it as “Wet Ass Mornin” blared across my block, competing with the sound of rain smacking everywhere, and my car starts, and it’s playing “Wet Ass Mornin” too. There-after, everything was beyond what I imagine peace being in my every-day life.
Tonstartssbandht released a double LP (that’s already sold out) entitled Overseas on Arbutus Records in May, but these tracks are detrimentally important for y’all to hear for the rest of your life, and luckily, they’re on Bandcamp currently for FREE, so PLEASE listen below and continue enjoying this wonderful Wednesday:
In The Light
When I heard Andy Boay was releasing an album called In the Light, I figured I was gonna get some Zepp in my life. Was really #PRAYING for that end jam to pop up somewhere. Oh, well. Guess this’ll do. Actually, this will really do. And In the Light is kinda Zepp-y, after all. But it’s also characteristically Beach Boys-y and Doo-wop-y. Noisy and hyper, too. So many things combining together in one place. Definitely fucked and freaked and free. True to the past, but still progressive. A celebration of impermanence in endlessness. Frightened positivity. Strayed homestyle. Sacred exploration. Take ‘em to church, AB!
Recently birthed into the physical world (fuck you internet!), copies of In the Light are still obtainable, so all you good little consumers can go ahead and fill that 4” x 3” hole in your lives. And if your feeling especially consumptive and greedy, Andy’s brothery-united rock and/or roll band Tonstartssbandht just released some jazz too (streaming here and here). Check it all out! I dare you!
• Andy Boay: http://andyboay.bandcamp.com
Bugged on all of the same color/design/mind-hologram, Looks Realistic harnesses that true-to-name swag, providing exactly what’s needed in visual form for single “SUPERCLARENDON” off their newest Beer on the Rug release VA/A. There’s almost a game to be played here within the sound’s breadth and scope of illusion via video. As if the confusion between the two draws you closer and closer to your monitor. Is it the flicker of light? Could the Looks Realistic trans-gaze-lock be that pulsating drone beckoning you toward a higher sensation of aura?
“SUPERCLARENDON” really begins to reveal itself around the three-minute-thirty mark when that synth line comes in, worshing out all the nonsense, and gets straight to living. Looks Realistic’s music WAS the one pulling me in. That call-to-arms initial lull, harkening what lingers and sits inside us all, stirs a fury of energy in listeners’ stomachs and… well Looks Realistic basically makes the sorta music (now-our-daze) is what makes riots and protests happen. So expect the faces of Joe Bastardo & Ryan Mulhall to dawn the front cover of Time as “Person of the Year” this coming December, ‘cause if they’re not moving bowels, then they moving crowds of people against the established order of what is right within – not only this country but – the world, leading people to… SHIT! Ah… shit, conveniently I split Beer on the Rug. ‘_’
Pre-order VA/A by Looks Realistic IMMEDIATELY from Beer on the Rug and continue living life without regrets.
“Eggs” is one of those songs for when there’s no more coffee in the pot and you have to walk to work through the rain because the street has turned to custard. It’s just as well too, because the sky looks mushy and it might leak onto your clothes if you don’t bring an umbrella.
Waking up feeling like play-doh, MNDSGN threw his fingers heavy and fat on the bass, mashing a lethargic groove as the rain washed the custard streets into an oozing river. The thump of the kick sends fingers of custard up the walls outside his house as the river plods along apathetically. In direct contrast to the woozy bass and keys, the tom hits are mechanically precise, and cut through the hot tape hiss. MNDSGN’s vocals sound like a junkie out of claymation Pulp Fiction. That tape hiss though… that tape hiss is the Sound of the Summer 2014, and its going to be frying eggs on every sidewalk for a lonnng time to come.
When the sun comes out later, (if at all) and the custard droplets morph into spastic yellow birds that flap their milky wings.