Tag Archives: art

Two Gallants – We Are Undone (Album Preview)

Some call this Folk-Rock, I call it kick-ass! Next month, Two Gallants will be releasing their newest album since 2012. Made infamous by a moment of police brutality in Houston, singer/guitarist Adam Stephens and drummer Tyson Vogel have opened up a whole new can of worms in We Are Undone.

The duo’s last full length release, The Bloom And The Blight, pulled us through every possible set of emotions. Free-flowing indie-punk tracks like “Halcyon Days” and “My Love Won’t Wait” cleverly contrasted blues ballads like “Broken Eyes”. In this album, Stephens and Vogel showcased their signature sound – slow starts with tremendous percussive peaks which bring us closer to the fuzz, buzz, and controlled chaos of the band.

This focus on juxtaposition seems to be even clearer in last year’s preview of next month’s release. Check out the lyric video below:

The vocals ring out openly over an ever-changing guitar riff. During the first shift in the guitar’s melody, Stephen’s tone sounds like Muse’s Matthew Bellamy before the band took its ever-famous electronic escapade of 2012. Nothing is overly-complicated in this mix of textures – alterations of simple progressions take catchy Black Keys-esque movements and bring them to a point of epic dance-ability.

If the track’s abrupt closure only leaves you wanting more… check out the band’s webpage for streams, videos, tour dates, and to pre-order the album!

Weekly Digs: Ernie Graham – Artist Profile


It’s easy to feel like you’ve gotten to know an artist just by listening to their music, and sometimes I feel weirdly betrayed if it turns out someone who’s music I really like is a bit of an asshole. With the music of Ernie Graham and a few odd photographs, comes a strange confidence that he was a genuinely good dude. Just look at that smile:

imageIn the end though I suppose it’s probably just the music that matters, not the person who created it. Ernie Graham was a man, and he created some excellent music. Starting out as a rhythm guitarist for Tony & The Telstars in his home of Belfast, Ireland, Graham soon split for England where he met Henry McCullough. The two headed back for Belfast and formed The People, later called Eire Apparent. Eire Apparent is mostly known for recording an album produced by Jimi Hendrix, with a couple songs featuring his guitar work. These are gems for any Jimi fans, but Eire Apparent’s stuff was seriously excellent, and should stand on it’s own merit. Here’s an pretty raw 1968 single of theirs:

Here I Go Again

The band broke up in 1970 and Ernie decided to go solo, releasing the eponymous LP Ernie Graham in 1970. This album is an absolute stunner, and if you’ve got a record player I can’t recommend it enough. On it, Graham takes a new direction with his sound resulting in what most would define as “pub-rock”, a musical movement aimed at bringing music back to it’s basics from the glam rock that was emerging around the same time. Some parts folk, some parts roots; good vibes abound and Ernie Graham captures the soul of the genre perfectly. Here are a couple standouts from the album which was reissued by 4 Men With Beards this year and can also be found on CD:

So Lonely

The Girl That Turned The Lever


The album was praised by critics but sold poorly, and in 1971 Graham joined the band Help Yourself, appearing on their 1972 album Strange Affair. Ernie would go on to form the band Clancy, releasing two albums with them and later going solo again. In the 80s after another failed attempt at success with a new band, Ernie Graham called it quits on his music career and took a job on the railroads. In 2001 he died due to complications with his alcoholism. Perhaps a sad ending for a man who never received a fraction of the recognition he deserved, but I think he must have died proud of the music he helped create. Here’s a song from Strange Affair to send you off:

Brown Lady

Jamie Coughlin

HAPPY SoX DAY: Chance the Rapper & Social Experiment’s Short Film

here is a present: an excuse to take a quick break from studying and watch this 11 minute film by Austin Vesley.

featuring all my favorites, including Chance the Rapper, Donnie Trumpet, Peter Cottontale, Stix, Nate Fox and Macie Stewart, the short film details behind the scenes of the Social Experiment Tour. 

have a look:

i love seeing the guys (and Macie) open up, even if its on camera. the laughter and camaraderie makes you feel welcomed as a bystander and the fun and vibrant footage of their tour makes you feel like you’re actually with them.

i don’t know about you, but this made me laugh out loud. happy SoX day 🙂



Two Sides of the Same Coin: New Electronic from North & South America

Music can be related from all over the world. From the south-eastern shores of Brazil to the Pacific Northwest, artists are always coming up with new forms of expression – especially in the realm of electronic. This week, two musicians have released the perfect example of a such a connection.

Brazilian dream-pop experimentalist, Kid from Amazon put out a tape last weekend that’s done nothing but displace my concept of reality. As I walk the streets of Budapest, soviet trams passing by, Musgo Vibes breaks through the monotony with its nu-disco beats and ambient vocalizations. Check out the stream (and download it for free) in the BandCamp player below:

Musgo Vibes by Kid From Amazon

Slow and relaxed at first, the tracks begin to build off of with one another between waves of enchanting synths and samples. As one becomes comfortable with the constant state of disassociation, a state of comfort is pursued through tracks like “Shy” and “Lugares”. Yet, as “Summer Haze” breaks and fades, the album returns to its Brazilian trance – birds chirping between cracks in the rhythm.

As my weekend came to a close, the Kid From Amazon was kicked off my “Now Playing” list by Jaapur’s latest release, the first of many continuous mixes of all his previous albums. This Oregon native provided the perfect contrast to the dream-state that Musgo Vibes, had put me under. Check out Tension below (free download):

Glitchy and poppy, the mix does nothing but keep my head bobbing. And as the tracks meld into one another, the album has become my new playlist for any dark and gloomy day.

Both musicians, though thousands of miles away from one another and myself, have managed to make this freezing cold how-can-this-still-be-fall weather feel a little more like summer with every bass-line, synth-riff, and break-beat. Check out their respective BandCamps here and here.

With love, from Hungary,

DJ Desman

Outlander in the Emerald City: King Tuff at Neumo’s (Show Review)


Despite the brutish nature of their name and their look, King Tuff were anything but at Neumo’s Crystal Ball Reading Room this past Wednesday, October 22. 

Front man Kyle Thomas, bassist Magic Jake and drummer Old Gary Goddard burst onto the stage with cut-off, patched up jean jackets and a positivism that permeated the entire room.  For their opening song, a wall of distortion and feedback transformed into the title track of their latest album, Black Moon Spell.  In the interim between the first few tracks, Thomas and Magic Jake continued a banter infused with good vibes, at one point mentioning how honored they were to be performing in Seattle, the “home of so many influential artists”. 

Magic Jake and Kyle Thomas rock with attitude

The love flowed throughout the night, with all members of King Tuff beaming permanent grins at their ecstatic fans song after sloppy song.  As the crowd got rowdier and the mosh pit’s circumference increased, King Tuff’s energy skyrocketed, climaxing during the supremely-catchy “Bad Thing”.  Although the musicality wasn’t much to be amazed at, the constant upbeat energy and no-holds-barred attitude of its members allowed King Tuff’s performance to shine with grungey, shredding, lo-fi mastery.  

Take a listen to their new album (embedded below):

(Photo credits to Alex Ostenberg)

Katie Hanford

Hungary, Hungry Huskies – St. Vincent Rocks a Boat (Show Review)

Annie Clark and Toko Yosuda bow their heads to rock

I arrived with a throng of hip-dressed Hungarians, our eyes wide open as we entered the multicolored array of dance lights that can be seen all along the straight of the Danube. 7pm is, by far, the earliest many of us have ever been on the notorious party boat, who hosts concerts and events every couple of nights – a staple in Budapest’s night life. On October 18, as a part of cafe Budapest – a yearly autumn festival featuring contemporary art, music, and performances – St. Vincent graced the tiny venue with an electronic foray of musical magic.

As the lights dimmed, a robotic voice appeared through the haze. It called to us as fellow analog listeners and urged us to refrain from “digitally capturing our experience.” Luckily, I was able to meet a lovely Lithuanian before the performance to capture the moments I would have otherwise lost due to my phone’s presence in my pocket throughout the show.

The band came forth in tandem, the lights dark and dimmed by the fog-filled room. In a flash, St. Vincent began with “Rattlesnake” and “Digital Witness” – the lyrics of which matching perfectly with the earlier sentiment of experiencing the concert in person, rather than through the lens of a phone screen.

A concentrated Clark focuses on the performance

After a brief pause, the soul-shaking guitar riff of “Cruel” rang through the air – its piercing alternations doubling that of the keyboard, just an octave below. During this song, the contrast between the natural and unnatural established itself as a main theme of St. Vincent’s performance. As each song built upon the last, Annie Clark and her band moved more and more robotically until we all could recognize the synchronized movements as an integral part of the show.

As the energy following “Cruel” faded (Clark waited patiently for our cheers to subside), Annie spoke of the things that “we had in common”. This song-break spoke like poetry, her words desperately pulling us towards what she wanted us to be: a child in an inescapable world. The break ended with an anecdote about us wanting to “jump from our beds” on a “parachute made of blankets.” And, even though we “landed on the carpet… on our knees, we never gave up hope!”

St. Vincent tells us a story

Through our screams of consensus, the keyboard and drums spelled out the opening notes of “Marrow” whose chorus, “H. E. L.  P. Help Me. Help Me” rang through the mouths of two-thirds of the audience – demonstrating St. Vincent’s enormous following that must exist in Eastern Europe. After the show, I met with humans from all nationalities – Hungarian, Serbian, Lithuanian and the like. As we all intermixed within the 300 or so person crowd, we not only witnessed – but participated – in Annie Clark’s wildly orchestrated madness.

A director of the stage, Clark waltzed around through strobes and flares. The band’s movements lined up with every beat, flash of light, along with each other. When the moment came for her to remove her instrument, Annie approached the stage crew and they fluidly made the change in a coordinated measure. Every time the lights blacked out, the crowd would erupt in a thunderous boom – the noise of the audience multiplied by the ship’s steel enclosure.

As the lights came up onto the stage, the figure of St. Vincent stood asymmetrically in front of us. The music began to ebb and flow as “Jesus” began. The ballad broke the reoccurring pattern of digital imagery – the movements of the band and the lights behind them mimicking that of the wind or the ocean. The natural sounds became distorted in the crescendos of distorted guitar riffs that introduced “Chloe in the Afternoon” – the keyboardist, Toko Yasuda, joining Clark with her punching electric guitar. The song ended in a clustered mess of arpeggios and slammed strings, Annie approaching the edge of the stage multiple times to show off her ardent talents – playing the strings of the instrument like grass in a meadow.

Yasuda leads the background vocals and harmony

After waiting again for the crowd to quiet, Clark continued her story about the times we had in common as a child. She spoke of a fire that we built when we were younger, and “as we watched it burn, we knew we were supposed to be scared but…” she inquired deeply, her words appearing naturally although they were obviously a perfectly practiced insight.

The set continued and, in-between the songs “Actor Out of Work” and “Birth in Reverse,” Annie Clark did nothing but amaze us with her skill and passion when the time came for her to play the guitar. The solos in “Surgeon” and “Prince Johnny” stood out as two the strongest instrumental moments I have ever heard. By the time “Birth in Reverse” tore through the speakers, the crowd was so riled up that the boat was literally shaking in time with the music. The band and the crowd sang in sync during ballads like “Cheerleader” – the natural colored lights blinding us until Clark had been reduced to nothing but a silhouette.

We became a part of the performance as the show evolved into what felt like a Black Sabbath concert on shrooms. Strobes flashed, heads banged, and – as the band shuffled and snapped – the worlds of modern art and classic rock collided in the storm that was “Bring Me Your Loves.”





Powerful performers command the stage with their music and movements

Quicker than they came, the band snuck off the stage immediately after the final song. We chanted in a chorus for Annie yet their return to the stage only came after the audience dimmed its cheers in sadness that the show may already be over. Yasuda entered and smiled from behind a glass of water as Annie played from back stage. When Clark was finally illuminated by the light of the stage, she squinted over us into the back of the club’s smallest room before flying into the center of “Strange Mercy”’s complicated drum-line. At the end of it, she threw herself into the arms of the audience. Guitar in hand, Annie played above us. She passed off her guitar to the members of the front rows so that we could play for her as she held her head back in ecstasy.



Photos by Vilius Kubekas – Facebook

When she returned to the stage, the leading women fell to her knees and crouched next to the beat-up Stratocaster. As she slowly lifted her head, a member of the stage crew adorned her shoulders with a new guitar, like a crown of thorns on a weary Jesus-like figure. She once again amazed us with her final solos strewn throughout the song, “Your Lips Are Red.” With the magic of the fourth wall already broken, nothing could stop us all from singing along and creating the music with the rest of the band. They soaked in our melodies and cheers as they held their heads high – taking a bow with smiles on their faces.

DJ Desman