Dropping Through Blackholes

On September 26th of this year, Pitchfork posted a controversial list of albums. Now, there will always be controversy when it comes to rating music. As all art forms do, music relies on emotional impact, and that is inherently going to be different for everyone. As an ardent music fan, I feel that some music is inherently better than other music. To my ears a song by Autolux will always sound better than anything Madonna has put out. Chance the Rapper will always be more appealing than most other Chicago artists to me. And those points are valid to me. At the same point, someone else could say just the opposite and be just as right as I am.

The list I first mentioned is Pitchfork’s 50 Best Ambient Albums of All Time. I saw at least two rebuttals of that list, and I am sure others are out there too. The reason for all the controversy is this: ambient music is a much more personal journey than most other mediums of music. Ambient music, if you’re not familiar, is music that can fade into the background. As Brian Eno famously first defined it in the liner notes to his Ambient 1, “it must be as ignorable as it is interesting.” It is quiet music. While popular music makes impressions through grand gestures and catchy melodies, ambient music is characterized by its subtlety. It’s music for solitude. It’s music for late nights. It’s music for sunrise and sunset. Ambient music is about mood and texture. As Rafael Anton Irisarri notes in his own rebuttal of the Pitchfork list, it’s music for those with patience.

So here I am, creating a list of my own. I’ve complied a list of some of my favorite ambient albums that I have received at one time or another for free. They may still be free for download, and they may not, but they are all most definitely worth paying for. I encourage you to take some time and delve into these albums. I beg of you, expose yourself to something that you may never have heard before. All of these albums (and many others) deserve to be heard!

The list is hardly exhaustive and if you desire to hear more, reach out and I will be happy to give you recommendations because this list is meant to be an introduction. It is only a fraction of the great ambient work that exists out there in the world.

Elsewhere by Asfandyar Khan

This album explores the more post-rock side of ambient music. It’s wonderfully serene and exceptionally beautiful. It’s fantastic music from a Pakistani musician.

L'histoire by Chubby Wolf

All music by Chubby Wolf (aka Danielle Banquet-Long) is tainted with tragedy as she died far too early. Her works all beautifully minimal. It’s built on a slowly changing texture and provides a rewarding listen for those with the patience for such things.

Constellate by Eluder

Eluder is great example of warm drone. It’s music that drifts. He creates some really beautiful moods and textures.

Music For Quiet Mornings by Endless Melancholy

The first album from Endless Melancholy is also my favorite. This is fantastic quiet piano music (and embodies some of the neoclassical side of ambient music). If you think a name like Endless Melancholy is misleading, you’re wrong.

chapter by Hirotaka Shirotsubaki

Hirotaka is one of my favorite ambient artists. He creates pastoral washes of sound. When he uses piano it’s amazing, and creates excellent moods using field recordings.

A Forgetting Place by Ian William Craig

This is without a doubt my favorite album on this list. It is, in my opinion, Craig’s opus. He creates incredible beauty in frailty and darkness.

Dusk by Man Watching the Stars

This is an incredibly intricate album. It sounds to be made by one man, a loop pedal, and a violin. It’s a really beautiful and desolate album.

Through / Out by Moonshine Blues

Technically, this is another relate from Endless Melancholy, but he’s using a different moniker. These are beautiful compositions. There are elements of tragedy and depression in these pieces that are hard to compete with.

A Start On Such A Night Is Full Of Promise by The Mountaineering Club Orchestra

This is, I believe, the only concept album included in the list. It is a series of pieces about the first crossing of Greenland. It is a really fascinating, orchestral release. 

Please Stop Loving Me by Nicholas Szczepanik

This is without a doubt the longest and only single track on the list. While it might seem daunting, the listen is well worth the time investment. This is a complex and incredibly beautiful composition.

Hiraeth by Olan Mill

Olan Mill probably offers more sonic variety than any of the other artists above. These are amazing compositions. It’s probably some of the most emotionally moving music on this list. Great neoclassical works.

Heather Spa by 36

When I pulled up to The Rebel Lounge, I wasn’t expecting to see a line already winding around the small building. But apparently Foxing has developed quite a following since I last saw them open for mewithoutYou.  I didn’t think I was going to have to wait in any line much less stand should to shoulder with people to start the show. The room was beginning to fill up as soon as the doors opened, and a number of dedicated fans crowded the small stage early for a chance to sing along with Foxing.

The first band to play that night was Adjy. Adjy’s baroque pop sound was made in the details. Yes, their guitar and bass players sounded good, but that wasn’t what made them. It was the small things. The band occasionally yelling behind the singer. The claps. The several glockenspiels played by different band members. The Speak and Say that helped to close out the last song. Adjy have a well-orchestrated sound. The band members had fun; they played and sang with smiles on their faces. However, the band seemed somewhat marred by a singer whose abrasive vocals and depressive interludes brought down what should have been a fun set. He seemed like a man that had to shoulder the weight of the world and wanted everyone to know it. He left the audience with the very upbeat message that “Innocence isn’t rewarded in this business.”

The next band to play was Tancred. They were a three-piece band that couldn’t have been more different in sound than the Adjy. Where Adjy used delicate flourishes, Tancred would use brute force. They played an addictive brand of garage rock. The drums thundered. The bass pulverized. The guitars swept everything together. Most of all, the hooks dug in deep.  It was clear that all members of the band were having a great time as they smiled while swaying and moving along with the pop music that they played.  They played a great set that served as a good transition to the next band.

O’Brother took the third spot. They were massive. Their post-metal sound filled the room with gloom and despair in the most pleasant way possible. They use emotion in their music well despite the fact that most of the time they just sound like dread (but just the opposite of dreadful). They played magnificently. The guitarists and bass players flung their heads and hair around lost in the maelstrom that they craft. The singer utilizes his brutal scream for emotional impact. They make songs that leave burns. I could still feel the searing impact after the set ended.

Foxing closed the night, surrounded by adoring fans. From the first song, the audience sang along with the band’s earnest lead singer—to the point where they were sometimes able to overpower the speakers. He didn’t seem to notice and instead was lost in his words. It was clear he was going through an emotional experience for every song. He jumped and twisted and swayed with the music throughout the performance. The band was similarly energetic. The sort of post-rock that Foxing plays is meant to be felt, and it’s clear watching them that they feel it. The band used their own light set up rather than the house lights to an eerie effect. The band moved to the rhythm and their shadows danced on the walls. Lit from below, it almost appeared like they were dancing around a fire. Their music has a primal, emotional energy. Even after they finished playing, I could still feel the energy in the room.

All photos are from my instagram @droppingthroughblackholes

https://adjy.bandcamp.com

https://tancred.bandcamp.com

http://obrothermusic.net

All bands play music for different reasons. For some there is a pull. That’s what I felt when I first started playing. I saw people playing on stage and felt like I needed to be a part of that, and I was for a short time. Unfortunately life sometimes gets in the way of dreams. For others, they play because they must. There’s nothing else for them to do. The music lives inside of them. As I’ve grown older, I think I’ve begun to realize that the music lives outside rather in for me. A sad realization for sure, but perhaps someday I can find a way to bring it back in—or possibly dig down deep enough to uncover what’s already there. Until that time comes, I will continue finding those who feel that music inside of them. I did just that on a March evening at Joe’s Grotto.

Reflectionless were the first band to play. They played a generic brand of death metal that sounded like a conglomeration of influences. Their movement was stifled on stage by equipment from the bands yet to play. The lead singer seemed sluggish. His vocals sounded right, but he didn’t look as if he was really enjoying himself. Perhaps it was nerves. The bass player looked as if he was concentrating too hard on playing the right notes to notice the small crowd in front of him, and although they played reasonably well, it did not sound right. They weren’t playing anything for themselves. Instead they were playing for the bands that influenced them. It sounded as if they were trying to be something they were not yet ready to be. They were reckless apprentices, trying to tame a beast they weren’t ready for. At one point during the set, the guitarist missed a riff and shook his head as he realized the song had gotten away from him. That seems a fitting encapsulation of Reflectionless.

The next band to play that night was sleepmakeswaves, a post-rock group from Australia. They too seemed cramped on stage, but they didn’t seem bothered or hampered. They were still able to play their brand of cinematic hard-rock. One of the important aspects of post-rock is emotion, and it seemed clear watching sleepmakeswaves that they could feel every note that they played. They moved with the rhythm, swayed with the beat, and raged with the sound. They make music that rocks, and it was a pleasure to watch them make it that night.

*Just as a disclaimer, people chose to watch concerts in different ways. I often chose to do that right in front of the stage. Had I been in a different place, the following would likely be different, and should not be taken as a reflection of the band* Entheos was the third band to play. Before beginning their set, they asked that the preamps on the stage not be used, which is what I was listening through. All I could hear during the set was drums and the occasional vocal. They seemed like they were having fun though. Hopefully they sounded good to the rest of the audience. Thanks, Joe’s Grotto, for your shit sound system.

Monuments were the second to last band to play. Their sound was monstrous. Their sound is a good mix of the djent style and death metal. The four men on stage played a primarily instrumental set, but they played the hell out of it. At their best, the two guitarists would reach their heads almost past their knees while head-banging. The bass player would rotate his head around swinging his dreadlocks in a circle in what an audience member termed “the dread fan.” Despite not having their lead singer with them on tour, they put on a performance that was not at all lacking. For the last song, the bassist asked the audience to sing if they knew the words, and one dedicated fan got up onto the stage. He gave the audience a sneer, grabbed the microphone, and kept his mouth shut. He was directed off the stage by security not long after. Despite the intrusion, Monuments were great to see and hear.

The Contortionist closed out the night, and rightfully so. They put on a fantastic show. The light was on point. Back lit, rather than from the front, the musicians looked more like silhouettes moving across the colorful rig against the back wall. They all played great and sounded amazing.

The lead singer is particularly captivating to watch. He moves slowly, purposefully across the stage and looks out at the crowd as if discovering them for the first time. His movements are purposeful, but strange, like he is learning how to use his body. Discovering what it can do and how it moves. When singing he doesn’t seem to singing out to the audience, but rather for himself, for the music. When donning his more guttural yell, he is much more confident and aggressive. Then he addresses the audience. Letting them know that The Contortionist’s version of progressive metal is a statement. These guys aren’t exactly doing this for fun. They’re doing because they have to. Because this is what they are meant to do. They know what they are doing, and they play the shit out of it.

all photos are from my instagram @droppingthroughblackholes

https://www.facebook.com/ReflectionlessAZ/timeline

https://sleepmakeswaves.bandcamp.com

https://entheosofficial.bandcamp.com/releases

http://thisismonuments.bigcartel.com

6/7 - The Garden - Valley Bar

6/19 - Sunflower Bean - Valley Bar

6/24 - Nothing - Yucca Tap Room

There are some things that are universally appreciated. Movies like Forrest Gump and Jumanji are hard to dislike. What’s puzzling is when we feel that way without it being reciprocated. I’m sure we can all related to seeing or hearing or tasting something that clicks with us, and then finding that other people just don’t understand the appeal. How can others not like this amazing thing that I’ve found? Surely anyone who experiences this thing will fall in love with it just as I have. But, no. For some reason others cannot connect to the allure of our beloved thing. This lack of general appeal is very pervasive in the world of music, which brings me to the subject at hand: Autolux.  They are one of my favorite bands of all time. Since I love them so much I expect that others will love them as well. I expect that their shows will sell out in minutes, and that their albums will be universally beloved. It makes no sense to me that radio stations choose to play Drake and Justin Beiber instead of Autolux. But, all is not right with the world, and Autolux are not the superstars that they deserve to be.

I was dismayed when I arrived at the Crescent Ballroom to find that there were not hoards of people crowding the dining room. Instead a handful of the dedicated were scattered among other patrons. The sound check went long, but it was exciting to hear them rehearsing. When the doors finally opened, no more than ten people walked into the ballroom. It was painfully obvious that the friend texting me would have no problem buying a ticket at the door.

Eureka the Butcher opened the show. Still a one-man band behind a drum machine and a synthesizer, Eureka’s set was more consistent this time around. His playing wasn’t inconsistent when I last saw him, opening for Antemasque. However, his genre and sound seemed more consistent. It didn’t feel like he was bouncing between styles. He looked more self-assured. He played dark electronic/house music. It sounded like the kind of music that would be coming from the coolest dark alley in the city. Trendy and frightening people would crowd the space between buildings, glowing with lights of muted colors. The set was both appealing and foreboding. Eureka the Butcher did well putting the set together.  It showcased his growing ability as a solo performer and was well suited to open the show for Autolux.

Instead of sitting down behind her drum kit, Carla Azar started the show standing on top of it. Greg Edwards played keyboards next to her, while lines of light projected onto them. They were little more than silhouettes on the stage, part of the canvas on to which patterns were painted.  The lights were a big part of their live show. After three or four songs, Eugene Goreshter asked for the lights to be turned up.

Seeing Autolux perform is a treat. The three members were spread out on the stage, each with their own area to perform in. Eugene was energetic. He sometimes seemed not to be playing his bass, as much as fighting with it to make the impressive sounds that it did, and it did sound amazing. Eugene’s playing would sometimes take him to other parts of the stage. Sometimes, playing intensely in front of Carla’s drums, the two of them making eye contact, fully engaged in the song. Occasionally he would venture towards Greg, but Greg often seemed aloof. He kept to himself while creating the atmospheres of the songs. He always sounded in synch with the others, but often looked separate. Carla Azar is one of the greatest drummers I’ve ever seen play. She plays precisely and passionately all while making it look easy, and I’ve never seen anyone else make such difficult drumming look easy.

After such an amazing performance, I wonder again, how is it possible that everyone else does not know and love Autolux. How can it be that something I experience so viscerally does not resonate with other people? I don’t understand it. However, it seems there are others that do understand. I am grateful for them, for supporting Autolux. I’m grateful to them for helping to ensure that a band I love continues to survive and create. But, mostly I’m grateful to Autolux for creating music for which I’ve always been searching.

all photos are from my instagram @droppingthroughblackholes

https://eurekathebutcher.bandcamp.com

Torche - 5/8 - Crescent Ballroom

Damien Jurado - 5/21 - Valley Bar

Andy Hull/Kevin Devine - 5/21 - Crescent Ballroom

Strfkr/Com Truise - 5/26 - Marquee Theatre

Braids - 5/27 - Valley Bar

Sumac - 5/30 - Valley Bar

In mathematics, there is the idea of different sized infinities.  For example, in between zero and one there are infinite amounts of decimal numbers that come between.  .01, .001, .0001, and so on and so forth into the void.  Also, there are an equal number of decimal numbers that come between one and two.  Thus, there must be more numbers between zero and two than between either zero and one or one and two.  As there are different infinities in mathematics, there are also different infinities in metal music.  Every metal band exists on some continuum of sub-genres and influences.  No band is more debated and infinite that Deafheaven.

However, the first band to play that night at the Crescent Ballroom was Gatecreeper. Bathed in red light throughout their set, Gatecreeper are death metal.  They have heavy wicked riffs.  They have growling vocals.  They kicked things off right, and their heavy but not oppressive songs got the crowd pumped. In their slower moments, they sounded more like doom metal than death metal. Although the crowd enjoyed their set, no one seemed to be having as much fun as Gatecreeper.  They head banged along to every song.  

The next band to play was Tribulation. They have a sound that stands between genres.  They seem strongly influenced by early metal of the 60s and 70s.  The lead singer’s growling vocals would fit well into death metal.  The soaring, heroic guitar riffs seem as if they would fit well into adventure metal. The gothic and zombie like appearance of the band are also reminiscent of that genre—each member of the band wore some kind of face paint.  The singer/bass player had a candelabra made of bones and chains hanging from his microphone stand.  The two guitarists to either side of the singer were in constant movement.  The one on the right almost resembled Billy the zombie from Hocus Pocus.  The guitarist on the left bared his teeth at the audience when he was prancing and dancing around the stage.  He was, of course, prancing and dancing in the most brutal, metal way possible.  They moved around on stage as much as their music moved.  They were fast-paced, and put on an energetic show.  They are certainly a band worthy of such a heavy name.

The headliner was Deafheaven.  Before they began their set, several of the members came out for sound check, including lead singer George Clarke. Clarke warmed up by stretching his legs and leather shoes on the monitors at the front of the stage.  I thought he might be testing how much weight they could bear.  When the full band came out and the show began, Clarke started his set by provoking the crowd.  He motioned with two fingers for the audience to get closer, and they did.  It was close quarters up front, to say the least. Deafheaven blends the genres of shoegaze and black metal.  However, they also add elements of death metal and post-rock.  Their sound is enormous.  

The centerpiece of their live show is Clarke.  He thrashes.  He screams. He provokes the audience every chance he gets, and they scream along with him.  He’s also considerate.  Several times he checked in with those of us up front, asking how we were doing.  Clarke also fell on top of girl after surfing over the crowd and asked her at least three times if she was okay.  While the guitars and drums fill the room with chugging, enveloping, and ethereal noise, Clarke brings it to a human level.  His lyrics, although often difficult to understand, are poignant.  

However you might want to categorize them, Deafheaven are more than you can establish through genres. Their sound is often otherworldly and infinite.  Also, they put on a hell of a show.

all photos are from my instagram @droppingthroughblackholes

https://gatecreeper.bandcamp.com

http://www.tribulation.se

Whenever I go out, I worry about what I’m doing.  I think about how my actions might be perceived by others, and I want to the “right” thing.  You know, because people care about how you start a conversation and will hate you forever because you said something a little off.  I know that it’s not realistic, but the fear is still real. It was there when I went to the Valley Bar.  I sat down next to a couple on a date and ordered food.  Don’t keep looking at them, you’ll seem weird. Try to talk to the bartender.  Maybe you can make a bartender friend.  He talked about the times when it got busy at the bar and walked away to do something behind the bar.  

Doors were late for the show, so I wandered back and forth between the lobby and the bar.  You could talk to the ticket girl about her deathly hallows phone case.  You can talk Harry Potter.  Wait, there are people now.  You don’t want people seeing you being awkward.   I waited quietly until the doors opened, and I was one of the only people there on time for the show.  I went up to the front of the stage, as usual, and watched people trickle in.  You’re the only one standing up here. Maybe you should go sit down at one of the tables in back? Nah, you don’t want to lose your spot.

Mrch (pronounced like the month or the action similar to walking) was the first band to play.  Unlike the pervious time I had seen them, they preformed as a two-piece. Erin, the keyboard/synth player, was replaced by Jesse’s laptop for this show.  They still sounded good, although Erin’s contributions to vocals were definitely missed.  Mrch’s light show was a bit overwhelming for the smaller, uncrowded room at the Valley Bar, but it made for a decent picture.  Does it seem weird that I’m the only one standing this close to the stage? Should I be moving around more or dancing? By myself? I least have to take a couple pictures, even if it looks odd. They still had an infectious energy despite being one woman short. Jesse’s electronic drums were mixed better for this show than the last time I saw them at Pub Rock, which blended better with the sound of his acoustic kit.  If you have a chance to see them, you should. It might be a good ‘I saw them way back when’ story.

The second band to play that night was Puro Instinct. They have a sort of 80’s dreamy vibe to them, although they are definitely dance music first and foremost.  The lead singer looked like she had come out of the 80’s with messy platinum blonde hair and leopard print top.  She seemed angry, about the small turnout, and a little drunk.  She asked that everyone come forward to the front and dance. I guess I need to dance more.  Should I move my arms more? Other people move their arms when they dance, but I feel weird about it.  If I start dancing more does that mean I’m dancing out of pity? They played a good set of 80’s inspired dream pop.  Eventually the lead singer let go of the chip on her shoulder and seemed to be enjoying herself.  The crowd also seemed to be having a good time and danced along with the synthetic drums and reverbed guitars.  

The final band to play that night was TOPS.  Each of the four members looked relaxed on stage, unconcerned about how many people were there to hear them play.  Instead they got lost in their music.  The four members play guitar pop, but with an R&B groove.  They were appreciative of the crowd and fed off of their energy.  Their dreamy brand of pop music really seemed to affect the crowd. They danced to their music and so did we.  When the tempo came down, we felt the shift in energy.  Their plucky guitar lines kept us going, and the delicate, but powerful, vocals enveloped us in their sound.  

For just a little bit I was able to get out of my head and be present. Rather than second-guessing everything I did, I was living in the moment and letting the music guide me. That’s part of the allure of live music. It can take me out of the past and future and let me live right now.

all photos are from my instagram @droppingthroughblackholes

http://www.mrchmusic.com

https://puroinstinct.bandcamp.com

4/2 - Mac Sabbath - Crescent Ballroom

4/4 - White Denim - Crescent Ballroom

4/13 - M83 - Comerica Theatre

4/14 - Beach House - Marquee Theatre

4/14 - Savages - Crescent Ballroom

4/20 - Foals - Marquee Theatre

4/24 - Chvrches - Marquee Theatre

As someone who was trained to help people deal with their past, I often struggle with just how much to keep and how much to let go.  Some can be tortured by what has happened.  Others can’t seem to learn from their mistakes and continue to repeat them.  It’s a difficult balance to maintain and let go at the same.  You need to need to keep your past with you without letting it weigh you down too much.  After all, who would any of us be without a past?  I bring up issues of the past because it seems to be a conflict for the core members of Antemasque, Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, who were once known as The Mars Volta.

The first “band” to play that night was Eureka the Butcher.  Eureka is the alias of Marcel Rodriguez-Lopez, former keyboardist/percussionist of the Mars Volta and current drummer of Zechs Marquise.  Eureka the Butcher does not have the progressive sound of either of the former bands.  Instead, Marcel uses this alias to create music that you can dance to.  The crowd, ready for Anetmasque, seemed wary of one man with an electronic drum set, a synthesizer, and a microphone.  It took only one song to get the crowd in the Butcher’s groove.  His sound ranges.  Sometimes Eureka the Butcher sounds like a hip-hop producer, other times he sounded like Jungle’s little brother, while on one occasion his frenetic drumming sounded more like Death Grips than anything else.  Whatever he sounded like, the crowd was with him.  Marcel seemed nervous at first, but looked like he was having fun by the end of his set.  His drumming and singing seemed more confident by the end of his set, and deservedly so.  Marcel clearly knows what he is doing with this project, and it could put him into completely different spheres than his past projects.  

The crowd, full of Mars Volta and At the Drive-In fans, was eager for Antemasque.  Some of the younger people in the crowd were talking about how they were too young when the Mars Volta when still around.  They discussed wanting to see Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez play De-Loused in the Comatorium.  When Antemasque did take the stage, they seemed preoccupied with the future.  They played only two songs from their first album, “In the Lurch” and “People Forget.”  Everything else was new.  

However, Antemasque does not feel like a new band. Cedric has frontman chops that are honed.  He knows how to make a show and how to own a crowd.  His vocals, although not as high a register as they used to be, are on point. He occasionally flung the mic behind his back, kicked it with his foot, and caught it.  Certainly not a trick you can master on your first try.  Omar’s guitar playing is virtuosic.  His playing does not sound like a guy just working on his second album (nor is he, he’s over 20 albums in just counting his solo work). His stage presence well worn.  He floats around the stage easily while accentuating his guitar playing.  And, not just any band can get former Blink-128 drummer Travis Barker to come out on tour.  Antemasque is rounded out by Manfred Rodriguez-Lopez, whose bass playing, although understated with such big personalities, was rather impressive.  It’s almost a compliment that he can go unnoticed since he plays so well.  But, Manfred’s playing added needed character and propulsion to Antemasque’s energetic songs.

On stage, they were just four men unadorned. Many bands that can’t afford cases of Fiji water, but have interesting light rigs.  Not Antemasque.  They don’t need any extra frills because they’re seasoned performers, and they play their asses off.  It’s because they are so propelled forward by their past that makes their dismissal of that past so interesting.  Cedric and Omar don’t seem to want any recognition that they were once a part of At the Drive In or the core of The Mars Volta.  

I understand wanting to start over, but completely dismissing the past seems like too much.  I’m not saying they should start playing “Eriatarka” at their shows, but don’t be afraid to acknowledge the past.  All the people at the show know Cedric and Omar from their previous projects. It’s why we love them and follow the new music.

all pictures are from my instagram @droppingthroughblackholes

https://eurekathebutcher.bandcamp.com

I’m going to assume that the Monster Mash music festival was one of the biggest music festivals that Arizona has ever hosted (if not the biggest).  Somewhere between 25,000 and 30,000 people came out on Saturday, Halloween.  When, from the only stage, the promoter asked how many people came from out of state about half the crowd raised their hands or shouted.  The big draw for that day was Tool playing their only show of 2015 with Primus and Coheed and Cambria opening.  

Now, I could talk about With Our Arms to the Sun opening the show with their broody alt-metal.  I could talk about Aeges (pronounces like the word “ages”) playing their more radio-friendly brand of alt-rock while their bass player wore a Michael Meyers mask.  I could talk about Coheed and Cambria’s fun prog-rock and lead singer, Claudio Sanchez, and his impressively large hair.  I could talk about how I was reminded of just how amazing Primus are.  I could tell you about the inflatable mushrooms that surrounded the stage while Primus were playing.  I could tell you about how everyone in Primus sounded amazing and that Les Claypool’s bass playing will never stop being amazing.  I could tell you about Les Claypool making a joke that if you look Maynard in the eye you turn into an omelet.

I could tell you about Maynard’s “Rupert Plant” costume and Tool opening with “No Quarter”—they had a similarly impressive opening song when I saw them last year, with “Third Eye.”  I could tell you about the amazing visuals that backed Tool as they played some of their best songs like “Parabol/Parabola,” “Schism,” “The Grudge,” “Forty-six & 2,” and, my personal favorite, “Jambi.”  

But, I’m not going to spend my time with those because anyone who actually went to Monster Mash knows that the crowd was insane. So, I think people need some crowd etiquette lessons.  Here are just a few thoughts about being trapped in a sea of people that Tempe promoters tried to call a music festival, in no specific order:  

·      Pushing through a crowd of people is a dick move.  Everyone ahead of you got there before you did, and I will guarantee that they do not want to give up their spot to you.  If you really want a good spot in the crowd, get there early.  The person who got there at 12 in the afternoon deserves that spot on the rail way more than the person who got their just to see his or her “favorite band.”  It was a Saturday.  You have no excuses.  

·      Just because you’re bigger than me does not mean that you deserve to be in front of me. You’re a bully.

·      Drinking to the point of passing out is not helping you to enjoy the show.

·      No one believes that you’re looking for your friend/boyfriend/girlfriend/wife…etc.

·      Just because the festival is outdoors does not mean you should chain-smoke three packs of cigarettes.  I’m always amazed at how many people still smoke.  I’m probably going to get lung cancer now because I also unwillingly smoked the equivalent of three packs of cigarettes.

·      Tall people are the worst

·      Not all moshers are created equal.  The good ones help you up if you fall.  The rest are dicks.

·      To festival designers/promoters: don’t put a horizontal wall through the crowd.  The assholes pushing through the crowd don’t listen to the people trying to tell them that they can’t get through.  

·      As good as an idea as it may seem like at the time, don’t try to carry a beer through the crowd.  It will spill on someone.

I wasn’t initially planning on going to see DIIV, but it seemed like a good show to take a date to.  I thought I would be able to take someone into my world, have a home field advantage.  Also, the Crescent Ballroom has a good atmosphere, so I thought it would go over well. However, she cancelled on me two and half hours before we were supposed to meet.  She was busy with something or other.  Rather than being excited and nervous on my way to Phoenix, I was sad and despondent.  At one point I thought of going back home, but I figured that going to a show would be better for me than sitting at home, wallowing in sadness.

I sat down at the bar as usual, ordered food, and had a drink.  The bartenders and other patrons around me were watching the World Series on TV as I read tweets about the Republican Debate on my phone.  I didn’t much feel like interacting with people, but my friends tried to comfort me through text.  As it got closer to show time, I could feel the negative mood lifting off me.

The first band to go on was Sunflower Bean, a shoegazey trio from Brooklyn, New York.  The three members looked as if they could have been fresh out of high school, all wearing black clothing from head to toe.  The bass and drums always provided a heavy rhythm section, but the guitar’s presence changed from song to song.  The first song that they played featured light picking that created a steady flow like a finely woven tapestry to cover the heavy machinery of the rhythm section.  (I felt justified in deciding to wear my Phantogram shirt to the show.)  At other times, the guitar became unwieldy with reverb, chorus, and distortion.  The guitar became domineering and the feel of the set shifted from 80s shoegaze to psychedelic noise.  Sunflower Bean was strongest in the later mode, although they played a great set all around.  

The second band of the night was No Joy (who I at first thought were No Age).  No Joy are four-piece shoegaze outfit.  Their sound is darker and heavier than Sunflower Bean—if you couldn’t already tell from the name.  The venue did a great job of accenting their sound by keeping the lights low.  Their guitar sounds are thick and ethereal.  They wash over and surround you.  They don’t produce individual notes, but rather clouds hazy sound. The bass player had a Gretsch bass, which had an interesting shape and what appeared to be Renaissance styled art between the pick-ups.  It sounded amazing, and the bass player was energetic. He didn’t just play the bass, he made a show of it.  I’m always excited to find new shoegaze bands, and these guys will fit in with others like A Place to Bury Strangers and Autolux.  

The lead singer of DIIV, Zachary Cole Smith, came on stage wearing the baggiest clothing I’ve ever seen.  He was preoccupied during their first song, as the video that projected over them had shut off.  He helped the Crescent Ballroom staff get the projector back on. The video that projected behind him appeared to be a home video shot by Smith—given that Smith’s girlfriend, Sky Ferreira, was featured several times.  After the video was playing, Smith seemed relaxed in his, no doubt, comfortable clothing.  DIIV plays dream-pop music that fits well their East-coast contemporaries Real Estate and Dum Dum Girls.  The music is relaxed, and Smith seemed to embody that feeling, sometimes taking the strap off of his guitar while singing.  The music is also fleeting.  It’s fun (and the crowd was having fun with it), but hard to pin down.  It’s not hazy, but it’s light and it floats.  DIIV played a set that was likely half and half, new and old.  It all sounded good.

By the end of the show I was in a better mood, and I thank music for that.  It has the amazing capability of being able to lift even the heaviest of moods, and I’m glad I didn’t stay in.  

all photos are from my instagram @droppingthroughblackholes

https://sunflowerbean.bandcamp.com

http://www.nojoymusic.com/music/

She must have walked in when I was on my phone because before I knew it she was sitting down next me.  We exchanged smiles, but she was quickly on her phone after taking a seat.  I saw that she was texting someone, so I figured she was going to meet up with someone else.  I was intrigued though.  I don’t associate red lipstick and a floral print dress with a 90s rock show. Her companion arrived shortly after. I overheard him say that they hadn’t seen each other in about 10 years.  Nostalgia drifted off them as they talked about people they both knew from back then.  

Nostalgia is a feeling high in demand.  Facebook asks us remember posts from years ago. Buzzfeed makes lists of things 90s kids will remember, and Nickelodeon is launching a programming block of 90s cartoons.  It makes sense then that bands from the 90s are back on the road.  However, Failure was before my time.  I didn’t go to the show for a sense of nostalgia, exactly.  

Local H was the first band to play that night. They are a two-piece rick outfit with an impressively full sound.  They play a sort of angsty punk with plenty of 90s fridge buzz.  Although you might not know their hit song “Bound for the Floor” by name, you would likely recognize the chorus “And you just don’t get it, you keep it copacetic”—I know I heard it plenty of times growing up and listening to the old 101.5.  Although Local H has aged, their energy hasn’t.  They played well.  The drummer, Ryan Harding, played at an exhausting pace for the entire set.  Guitarist, Scott Lucas, sounded good too.  His vocals sounded just as strong as their old recordings, and his riffs were on point.  They played a good set, but it didn’t stay with me.  But, it was still exciting to hear a song that used to get played on the radio.  

Unlike Local H, I have never heard Failure played on the radio.  I came to them through multi-instrumentalist Greg Edwards’ other project: Autolux. Although Failure has many 90s tropes like heavy distortion, power chords, and a gravely voiced singer, they are more than just a 90s band.  Their intricate brand of space-rock and lasting influence on bands today has helped to keep them relevant.  Failure played this leg of their tour with former live member Troy Van Leeuwen (of A Perfect Circle, Queens of the Stone Age, and Sweethead, among others).

They came to the Crescent Ballroom to play songs from their new album The Heart is a Monster, which they did for the first seven songs of their set.  They also played favorites from their 1996 opus, Fantastic Planet—including my personal favorite “The Nurse Who Loved Me.” Andrews encouraged the crowd to sing along at several points and noted that we knew the words better than Tucson. Suck it, Tucson.

Failure’s songs are an interesting combination of brute force and cerebral finesse.  The heavy drums, bass, and guitar aren’t your typical rock instruments for Failure: they’re a sonic palate.  Edwards and Andrews use their instrument to create feeling and texture, which Van Leeuwen helps with in the live setting.  Their live set-up shows their dedication to sound.  Each member had a large pedal board, and Van Leeuwen and Edwards had keyboards beside them.  Whereas other artists from their era of origin might keep you grounded in the song, Failure expands and lifts you in the stratosphere.  What starts out simply ends up surprising, like the tunnel that Willy Wonka took from his candy garden to the laboratory, “Strange, but it’s fun.”