Sigur Rós / Amiina
The Lyric Opera House; Chicago, IL

[05-09-06]

After taking an elevator up to the
balcony accompanied by a tuxedoed usher while polite applause rippled across
the theater for openers Amiina, I knew this wouldn't be a typical rock show.
In a venue that regularly hosts performances of Die Fledermaus and Cosi fan
Tutte, Sigur Rós' epic compositions and enormous sound still seemed fit to
share the stage, even if the fans in attendance were not typical of the Lyric
Opera House's usual black tie audiences.

The four Icelandic women of Amiina wowed the crowd with their skills on the
strings, incorporating bells, electronics, and even the saw into their short
opening set. The strings were the focus of every song, with the quartet
sitting in a small square atop a tall platform, seemingly unaware an audience
existed. As each song progressed, various members left the platform to
smoothly wander the stage from instrument to instrument, building the sound
gradually in the typical post-rock style Sigur Rós made popular. Amiina's
sound was also very reminiscent of another Icelandic band, Müm, especially as
the precious tinkling of the bells were looped and layered through the Apple
computer that rested incongruously on stage. After thanking the audience with
some very adorable broken English, the band wrapped things up with an
uncharacteristically danceable song with a serious beat.

After taking in the beauty of the Lyric's interior and hitting up the nicest
bathroom I've ever used at a concert, the lights dimmed and the curtains drew
back to reveal Sigur Rós positioned behind a sheer white screen. Easing into "Glósóli"
from their latest album Takk..., the shadows of the band and their
instruments moved across the screen as they played from behind, while faint
gray video of leaves blowing and feet stomping projected onto the stage. The
sound grew gradually, eventually filling the entire room with the final
minute's heart-pounding drums and singer Jon Thor Birgisson's piercing voice,
every note of every instrument crystal clear. As the song finished and the
crowd cheered, the screen rose to reveal the band, the women of Amiina perched
on their platform in the familiar square position, Jon standing awkwardly in
front of the microphone at the center of the stage with his guitar and bow in
hand.

After that stellar beginning, the band's set focused primarily on songs from
their most recent albums, the rockin' Takk ("Hoppipola" and "Sæglópur"
were definite standouts) and the far more mellow and sedative () (Yu-si-yo!),
which often left me wanting to close my eyes and just take in the sounds in
peace. The lighting very much complemented the show as video continued to
stream on a screen behind the band; the greens, blues, and reds flashed across
the stage in perfect timing with the music, while the shadows of the various
band members could often be seen along the theater's side walls. Meanwhile,
the band stood rather rigidly on stage, with most of the movement coming from
the sways of the members of Amiina as their arms flowed with the bows of their
strings. Only once did Birgisson speak, and whether it was broken English or
unintelligible Icelandic (or maybe Hopelandish?), no one in the audience was
quite sure what he said.

After briefly leaving the stage to more of that polite applause, the screen
lowered in front of the band again as they returned to the stage to close out
the show with "Untitled #8" from (). Building their sound very
gradually while the lighting strategically revealed the silhouette of a
different band member each second, the band eventually made its way to a
booming ending as strobe lights flashed across the audience and forced me to
turn away my eyes and plug my ears while Birgisson's ear-splitting siren voice
soared above the massive wall of sound. Blind and deaf, but pleased, I watched
as Sigur Rós dropped their instruments and left abruptly, returning to the
stage seconds later for a final bow to their thrilled audience.

Rodrigo Sigal / Steve Yépez / Various Contemporary Composers
DePaul University; Chicago, IL

[05-05-06]

Encuentros, organized
by DePaul Music School professor Juan Campoverde, is now in its second year
and has expanded to two full nights featuring contemporary music by Latino
composers. The first night focused on multimedia works interspersed with
electro-acoustic pieces. Rodrigo Sigal was the only composer present at the
event and took on the responsibility of running the show, segueing between
pieces and controlling the levels of the eight speakers that surrounded the
audience. The live diffusion was not as impressive as it seemed at first,
though; there were only two channels of audio being output from the computer,
each going to four of the speakers, and Sigal could only control the
spatialization of those two channels, not introduce new sounds to the audience
live. The technological side of the evening felt further compromised by
Sigal's use of the free version of QuickTime. As the pieces were played off of
his computer, the top bar as well as the icon bar was visible.

The first piece of the night, which ran independently of the supplied program,
was "Snout" by Ricardo Giraldo. The multimedia piece used quick, almost
stop-motion edits of close-up shots of a dog as well as video of the ocean as
its primary visual sources while the primary sound source appeared to be
strictly canine. The fast edits of the video were matched by the audio
portion, which featured a pointillistic collage of dog growls, snuffs, and
other sounds. Of the two most traveled categories for this kind of work,
ominous and ambient, "Snout" fell into the more ominous camp, particularly in
the climatic portion of the piece, which was denoted by sharper sounds and
strobe-like images of the dog's teeth. The images were treated with a filter
that increased the contrast and made the white fangs stand out against the
darker background. The focus moved back to the treated shots of waves
crashing, and the piece ended.

At this point Sigal segued into a tape piece by Alejandro Viño called "The
World We Know." This piece seemed much more in the pop realm than most of the
audience seemed to expect. As I listened to the metallic clanks, drill sounds,
a baby crying, and, I am 90% certain of this, an "Unh!," I was reminded of the
cheesy, proto-techno type tracks a friend of mine used to do in high school.
Viño's work was decidedly more professional, but the feeling of dressed-up pop
music shone through the composer's stated purpose of exploring the clichés and
traditions associated with rap and hip hop. That's not to say it was not
enjoyable or lacking in complexity, either. The drum and bass breakbeats would
at times begin to play over each other, creating polyrhythms and the thought
in my head that this is what John Cage's aleatoric "Imaginary Landscape No. 4"
would sound like if it were performed in Chicago on a Saturday night. The
eight speakers worked quite well for this piece, though more for the depth and
life they added as their outputs phased and added a slight delay effect to the
listeners' ears, not for the diffusion. The piece ended as it had begun; the
layers began to fall away, and the steady, beating pulse that had sustained
throughout disappeared, leaving what once again sounded like a sparse
collection of unrelated clanks and bangs.

The second video piece of the night was Dennis Miller's "Vis a Vis." A change
from "Snout," "Vis a Vis" was ambient with its primary video source
unintelligible, though I'd venture to guess it may have been either video test
patterns of simply abstract images run through video filters. Similarly, the
audio portion of the piece seemed either electronically created through FM
synthesis or possibly a combination of that and some vocal sounds. Possibly
the result of antiquated equipment (the program notes mentioned that Latin
American countries rarely have up-to-date technology for this kind of work) or
a lack of creativity on the composer's part, the piece seemed little more than
a reworking of John Chowning's revolutionary "Stria" set to abstract video
that was obviously processed using recognizable video filters. Compared to
Giraldo's "Snout" and even Viño's pop-sounding tape piece, "Vis a Vis" came
across as amateur-ish. The only sense of form was given by the introduction of
a gray area to the sea of floating, spinning, undulating colors that sustained
through the piece.

The next piece that left a mark on me was one of Sigal's tape pieces, "Mambo a
la Braque." This piece was entirely based on samples of others, centered on a
mambo by Damaso Perez Prado. Every two bars the mambo would pause for a break
and a quick burst from a symphony, and then it would return to the mambo. The
samples built in layers with piano sounds, baritone saxophone, and percussion
all playing over, around, and in between each other, their layers
differentiated by their individual fidelities, ambience, and equalization. I
spoke to Sigal the next night about this piece to gain a greater understanding
of his intent. Taking the idea of quotation within a piece to an extreme,
Sigal wanted to use clips of different musical styles as a way to expand the
meaning of his work. Quoting, or in this case, using samples of different
styles, drew certain ideas from the audience about what they knew of that
style. By layering these samples/styles/ideas in a surrealist juxtaposition,
Sigal hopes to challenge their conceptions of what would be considered
well-understood forms in other circumstances.

After almost an hour of multimedia and tape pieces, the audience was ready for
a step in the live direction and was awarded with a piece for flute and tape
by Sigal called "Sonic Farfalla," performed by DePaul student Steve Yépez. The
piece made use of several extended techniques, most notably flutter tongue as
well as key clicks and whisper tones. The piece once again included a drum and
bass portions that faded in, unrelated to the flute part and layered over each
other, creating a three-part polyrhythm. The tape also had a very present
flute part on it. Some of the parts were reversed and used percussively, but
other parts were of an unprocessed flute, and toward the end the sound of a
muted trumpet could be heard coming out of the speakers. I generally have a
prejudice against pieces for mixed media since my feeling is that tape is
static and therefore can't truly interact with a performer, but I do
understand that certain sounds can only be achieved in a studio setting and
cannot be created live. Following that logic, unprocessed instruments have no
place on tape in a mixed media piece. Listening to the piece, I also began to
question the compositional process that Sigal had spoken of earlier, beginning
with the acoustic portion first and then writing the electro-acoustic part as
accompaniment, as this piece's tape part was far more interesting and Sigal
amplified it over the live flute.

The final piece of the night was "Blink," another multimedia piece with the
video done by Ricardo Giraldo and music done by Rodrigo Sigal. Once again
falling into the ominous realm of multimedia works, this piece began with
reversed sounds and FM synthesizer tones playing, accompanied by black and
white video of the inside of an abandoned building. The immediate feel was
that of a low budget horror film along the lines of The Blair Witch Project
or Saw. The piece developed into more than that, though, as the video
switched to color and the exterior of the building was shown followed by
several other buildings in similar disrepair. Samples of a classical aria and
trumpet piece drifted through like the memory of better times as the less
obviously assembled sounds continued. The video eventually went to black as
the trumpet piece came to the forefront and cadenced with ambient sounds
floating around and eventually fading away. I later found out that this piece
is somewhat political, reflecting Giraldo's disillusion with the civil
conflict in his native Columbia, focusing on the long-term destruction it has
caused.

Overall, the night was an interesting experience of work that far outshined
the student multimedia performance held at DePaul a few weeks earlier. Still,
an amateurish feel lingered through the performance, mainly due to the
conspicuous presence of the computer's tool bar and the overbearing hip hop
and drum and bass influences in several of the pieces. Multimedia works are in
the process of fighting an uphill battle to claim legitimacy in the many parts
of the classical music world, and when a performance put on at a
university-level music school that is run by composers with PhD's still comes
across like this, legitimacy is not gained. Performances, practices and other
precedents need to be established for the presentation of works like this, as
the works themselves are relatively free of classical structures. The first
night of Encuentros was presented in a way that felt like a slipshod
classical performance, and it did not work. People did not know whether or not
to applaud between works, especially in the sometimes long pauses. In most
cases there were not performers and the composers were not present, so who
would the applause be directed towards? If works are going to break with
classical styles as much as these video and tapes pieces did, then their
presentations need to break with classical practices as well. Otherwise, isn't
it only half new? Still, there was a second night to resolve these questions,
and I eagerly looked forward to it.

The Fall / The Talk
Stubb's Barbecue; Austin, TX

[05-02-06]

The
Fall have so much material that the small chunk I own seems to be strewn all
over my apartment. As a result, when I returned home from The Fall show, my
roomie was shocked that I hadn't been fanatically talking up the fact that I
was going to see this band whose merchandise he has been forced to look at all
year. My only explanation was that I didn't know what to expect. Although I'd
consider myself a pretty big fan and I'd heard that they could be brilliant,
it would be more likely that they would be in shambles. Nonetheless, I had
been nervously looking forward to my first experience with a band that I
consider no less than legendary.

The show was in downtown Austin near where I currently work, so I was able to
spend a leisurely evening out before heading over to the venue. I convinced a
friend whom I'd turned onto the band via the albums Hex Enduction Hour
and Levitate to join me but made it clear that I couldn't vouch for a
stellar performance. The band played at Stubb's, the venue that has recently
housed LCD Soundsystem, Interpol, and The Arcade Fire. The catch? The Fall
were playing the inside bar, which houses a fraction of the amount of people
the main stage does. That didn't deter The Fall, though; they still charged as
much or more than those bands.

Well, we missed the first band, The Talk, but arrived in time to see a
videographer "open." He was actually pretty great, manipulating images and
sound of Elvis, Freddie Mercury, Barbara Streisand, and Michael Jackson with
thoroughly hilarious results. Then, finally, the band took the stage and
ripped into "Hey! Fascist," an earlier tune recorded as "Hey! Student" but
revived in fascistic sheen this evening. Fittingly, some unknown guy sang the
first few lines, giving Mark E. Smith ample time to saunter out and mumble out
a few chants of "Hey Fascist-ah."

You may have noticed that The Fall's last few albums have featured a number of
raging rockers with huge riffs that sound like songs that a drunk could really
pound his fist to, namely "Theme From Sparta F.C.," "Pacifying Joint," "What
About Us?," and "Assume." Well, that drunk was pretty much Mark E. Smith, and
of course, he treated us to all four of these songs. In an album context, they
work pretty well, but when they comprise the bulk of a short set, it truly
sounds like a bloke just wantin' to shake his fist while he rocks out.

Onstage, Smith spent the whole time skulking around with his eyes
three-fourths of the way closed, grabbing other band members' microphones for
the sole purpose of singing into two microphones at the same time. When he
wasn't singing, he was looking at the gear and obnoxiously chewing gum that
wasn't there. After about 30 minutes, he left the stage to let the band finish
a song that was only half done. They came back for about three more songs,
though he didn't perform on the last one, which was obviously not an
instrumental. The band itself performed pretty energetically, especially on
the fantastic "Aspen," though they all looked like they really, really hated
Mark.

While this may sound horribly dissatisfying, Mark E. Smith played the
character of Mark E. Smith to a tee, and I couldn't have been more delighted.
When audience members started angrily yelling at him to play more songs, I
couldn't help but feel like they were naïve newbies who had bought 50,000
Fall Fans Can't Be Wrong
and thought there was really a chance they were
going to hear "New Face in Hell." However, I reconsidered my glee when talking
to a guy from Melbourne who had seen the Fall many-a-times in the '80s and
ribbed my friend about being too easy to please and placing Smith on an
undeserved pedestal.

In the end, I would have to say I enjoyed the set, but not on the one-to-one
level of "this was a good performance, therefore I liked it." Rather, it
provided another enjoyable piece to the immense and baffling puzzle that is
The Fall. In fact, it got me excited enough that I put on the Peel Sessions
Box Set
first thing when I got home.

Bell Orchestre / Snailhouse
Wexner Center for the Arts; Columbus, OH

[04-29-06]

Bell
Orchestre was pre-empted by singer/songwriter Mike Feurstack, who can
regularly be seen as guitarist/vocalist for Wooden Stars but who, on this
night, played a handful of songs under the guise of Snailhouse. The music
wasn’t groundbreaking or revolutionary but was still pretty and distinguished:
all members of Bell Orchestre also joined Feurstack for several songs prior to
their set, and then Feurstack returned the favor by diddling with electronics
during the Bell Orchestre set. Arcade Fire multi-instrumentalist Richard Reed
Parry, upon leaving the stage after the group had finished backing Feurstack,
stood about 5 feet to the right of where my girlfriend and I were sitting. He
really doesn’t look a whole lot like Napoleon Dynamite when you’re that close
to him; he also lacked his trademark black glasses, an absence that prevented
anyone from mistaking him for the lanky Mormon. Yet another few feet away,
some guy was wearing the ever-present Vote for Pedro t-shirt, as if to rub
salt in the deepest of wounds. Parry briefly chatted up a friend who had
arrived, and after meeting his sister (and bowing politely), he took his leave
and headed to a quasi-backstage area.

Those mistaking Parry for the heart and soul of Bell Orchestre are sorely
mistaken. He’s obviously an integral part of the greater whole, but this
evening the subtle spotlight shined a little brighter on violinist Sarah
Neufeld, who also plays a big part in making The Arcade Fire so impressive
live.

Pre-recorded oceanic sounds preceded the quintet as they carefully made their
way through the darkened performance space; small lights at each group
member’s wrists led the way. Neufeld was placed firmly in the center of the
stage with Parry to her right and a French horn and a trumpet player to her
left, the drummer behind her, and Feurstack to the drummer’s right, almost
hiding behind Parry. Parry played upright bass for a majority of the
performance, an instrument he not only played to perfection but also slapped
and pummeled during the “rock songs.” A majority of the songs were from the
band’s debut LP, Recording A Tape The Colour Of Light (Rough Trade),
and there were little surprises and variations in the performance of each
song. Neufeld is easily the center of attention for each song, as she plays
beautifully and thrusts her squat, sturdy arms into the air and saws at her
instrument as if she’s been tied to train tracks, a ferocious locomotive
barreling down upon her. The group played cohesively together, and each song
sounded as fresh as its counterpart on the LP. The only newish song played was
one Parry had recently commented on in interviews; during this song, the group
gathered together in the middle of the stage. The song was played without mics,
with Neufeld and the two brass players to Parry’s left. Parry played his
massive bass with the thin bow while the rest of the group kneeled on the
floor, clapping the floor once Parry had finished. Parry explained that the
song had been created at a “great old theater in Sweden when we were in
Europe.” And it did have a slight European vibe that well matched the other
songs performed. At one point, the group spoke at length about their newfound
hatred of all things Cleveland, a hatred discovered at a show a couple of
nights earlier at nearby Cleveland’s Beachland Ballroom. They claimed that the
audience “hated them first” and that it was much nicer playing to a “quiet,
attentive crowd” rather than in a smoky dungeon where half the people weren’t
even paying attention.

A highlight of the show came near the end of the performance when the band
played what was announced as an Aphex Twin cover, a song that sounded
incredibly familiar and was played incredibly well. They ended the song with
what sounded like an electronic rubber band — stretched across the entire
stage — that snapped back and forth and continued to snap as the group members
quietly left the stage.

Ladytron / The Presets
The Metro; Chicago, IL

[04-21-06]

I
walked into the sold-out Metro just as the opening band was beginning their
set. I wasn’t expecting much from a band I knew absolutely nothing about, but
I was pleasantly surprised by the Presets, an Australian, electro-goth duo
clearly influenced by Joy Division/New Order; it’s the type of stuff the Faint
has been trying to do but has succeeded at only on occasion. The singer’s
Flock of Seagulls haircut, excessively tight jeans and ill-fitted t-shirt made
for quite the spectacle as he thrived around the stage, occasionally pushing
buttons on the electronic equipment that littered the floor. Meanwhile, the
drummer kept the pace alongside a booming bass that ripped through my insides
for 45 minutes straight. Further research revealed that this band has a debut
album coming out this month, which would definitely be worth looking into.

After a short break, Ladytron's four, disgustingly beautiful band members came
on stage joined by an additional drummer and bassist and proceeded to play
almost robotically. This fit their robo-sound very well and was pretty much
exactly how I would have expected them to play, though it did get boring at
times. I wouldn’t be surprised if frontwomen Mira and Helena were actually
fembots (fembots sporting very weird priest/nun-like clothing that only people
in bands can pull off), and watching them perform made me wonder if their home
country of Bulgaria is actually a land of gorgeous, fair-skinned, dark-haired
androids. Thankfully, the band broke the image in time for the encore, when
they began to show a bit of emotion and get the audience involved with some
dancing, handclapping, and an extended electronic jam of "Seventeen," by far
the most exciting moment of the night.

Ladytron's set leaned heavily on songs from their latest album, The
Witching Hour
, including highlights "Destroy Everything You Touch,"
"Sugar" and "The International Dateline," while still managing to please the
crowd with older hits like "He Took Her to a Movie," "Playgirl" and the
aforementioned "Seventeen." For the first half of the show, it seemed the
audience wasn’t sure whether or not it was possible to dance to Ladytron’s
methodical electronica, as heads bobbed and feet shuffled nervously.
Eventually, as the beer flowed and the end of the set approached, all
pretenses fell to the wayside as people began pushing up to the front of the
stage to flail wildly in my personal space, completely out of sync with the
music. The Metro’s recent (and otherwise welcome) switch to a smoke-free
environment revealed its sole flaw: no cigarette smell to cover up the sweaty
BO scent. Blech.

This is Your Captain Speaking / This Melodramatic Sauna
Pannonica; Nantes, France

[04-10-06]

This Melodramatic Sauna is a group
from Nantes fronted by 23-year-old Jonathan Seilman. They released their first
full record, et les fleurs eclosent à l'ombre, on Effervescence at the
beginning of February, and the few tracks I had heard prepared me for some
pleasant indie folk, and not much more. In fact, the performance blossomed
from its delicate folk roots into colorful bursts of polyglot pop – whenever a
song was in danger of becoming too pretty for its own good, the dainty
fingerpicking and plucked strings were inundated with strident keyboards and
eccentric percussion. Theremin, the rims of half-filled brandy snifters, and
even a length of twirling plastic pipe complemented the drums and packed the
songs' conventional folk structures with savvy appropriations of pop, funk,
and jazz. Seilman blew injured saxophone melodies that were looped into the
rising cacophony along with his guitar. His voice was breathy and fragile,
bordering on cloying at times, but otherwise serving as a cool balm that kept
the songs from overheating. After playing through most of the cuts from the
new album, Seilman and the string quartet returned for a bashful encore,
offering a reprise of "Stronger Strongest" before breaking down their
equipment and coming into the crowd to talk and have a few drinks.

This Melodramatic Sauna's genial folk calamities segued nicely into the
polished post rock of This is Your Captain Speaking. The Australian trio - a
drummer (David Evans) and two guitarists (Nick Lane, Steve Ward) - relied on
lanky riffs and loads of tidal delay to create thickly layered songs that
surged and spent themselves in 7-minute stretches. Evans pounded his kit with
energy and poise and frequently abandoned the skins to tap out melodies on the
xylophone to his right. "6 PM" started with the friendly mechanical ratchet
and ping of a typewriter before the guitars overlapped, crested, and slid back
toward silence. "Henry and Maximus" was my favorite number: a playful melody
and jazzy cymbals gave way to contrapuntal riffage and a series of hungry
crescendoes. One of the guitarists had an effect on his guitar that made it
sound like a cello, and with all the delay, the tinny clatter of his pick
against the strings anticipated each wash of vibrating bass by several
seconds. The Aussies also gave a brief but lovely encore.

After a long weekend at a festival dedicated to the obscene, provocative,
noisy, and just plain weird, an evening spent with artists focused on
songcraft and musicianship was a soothing pleasure. The lively, if somewhat
tight, performance confirmed my hunch: I'm going to be sure to look for more
from This Melodramatic Sauna and any other Seilman releases. Any fans of
Sufjan / Andrew Bird / Akron/Family should do the same.

Setlist:

This Melodramatic Sauna

Stronger Strongest

For Respect

Automat

Home and Away

L'alchimie

Ô my sun

New

God

La Triste Comptine

Au Café

Fin de Partie

Encore : Stronger Strongest

This Is Your Captain Speaking

A Wave to Bridget Fondly

Weathered

Henry and Maximus

Gathering Places
6 PM

Lift

Encore : [unfinished new song]

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