Apostrophe S

Man, what a weekend. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

It started out like any other weekend; My Friday was uneventful. I watched “The Big Lebowski” and fell asleep on the couch. I needed the rest, anyway, because Saturday was going to be more demanding than usual…

After waking up BEFORE the crack of noon, I dressed, brushed my teeth, and prepared to go to Brooklyn. Roxy and I picked up J on our way, where we were to meet up with Mouse and Talula, and also my fellow Indiana intern Beef, who is at a paper in Long Island. We were to meet at Coney Island, for the Village Voice’s annual Siren Fest!

It was a good day. All in all, I saw 8 bands. Briefly, lets discuss each one.

The first band I saw was a bunch of guys who call themselves The Constantines. I wasn’t a big fan. They looked and sounded like a hipster indie rock band, except for the lead singer, who was trying to do his vocal impression of Rob Zombie. Plus the sound on the first stage apparently wasn’t very good, so we moved on. (Mouse a Talula were at the other stage, and they apparently felt the same way, because they switched and Roxy, J, Beef, and I saw them for only a few minutes during the actual festival. We moved on to the second stage…

…where we arrived just in time to catch a really good band called TV On the Radio. They had a artsy/indie/jazzy kind of sound that sounded pretty good from where we were, near the soundbooth. After they finished, we started to make our move toward the front of the crowd. At the end of the day, I got to touch the fence that seperated us “peasants” from the section reserved for the press and “elite.” However, that did mean standing in the same spot for 4 hours, completely surrounded by strangers who were pushing and generally standing too close to me, all under a hot sun. But we’re hardcore, so we stuck it out.

The next act was this crazy motherf*cker who calls himself Har Mar Superstar. I use that vulgarity because after every song the guy would scream to the crowd “Give it up for me, motherf*ckers!” Imagine a pasty white backstreet boy, 15 years older, 25 pounds heavier, with 3 times less hair, and twice as much attitude. You get Har Mar. He comes out on stage wearing skin tight red white and blue pants, and an equally patriotic leather vest complete with tassles all along the bottom edge. His dress harkened back to those late, great stadium rockers from a bygone era. He gyrated and pranced and danced all over the stage. As his set went on, he began removing articles of clothing, until he was down to his camoflauged underdrawers and white socks and shoes. His music was enjoyable. Nothing fantastic. He’s really a white rapper/rocker who sang over mostly pre-recorded music with a live drummer and bassist to back him up. Completely ridiculous, yet thoroughly entertaining.

What could follow such an act as Har Mar? Nothing less than Blonde Redhead. The group, comprised of one set of white male twins and a Japanese woman, makes decent art rock. It didn’t seem like the kind of music that would lend itself well to live music, especially energetic live music. And it was just that. The songs were good, the players were talented, yet it just didn’t rev you up like a good rock show should. But they were fun to watch. And it’s not often you see twins in a band together, one drumming and the other playing guitar. The guitar-playing one also sang, which makes me wonder if the other twin sings, too. Would they sound the same? Why does one twin get to sing while the other doesn’t? Do they ever trade places? Hmm…

Blonde Redhead was the last band to play before the headliner, Death Cab for Cutie, came on. Death Cab makes excellent records, but I was doubtful as the whether they’d be able to reproduce their sound in a concert setting, as the lead singer’s vocals are rather soft on most of their recorded material. They did very well, though. The first few songs seemed a little rough, but then they got in a groove and played an excellent set, finishing up with a killer encore performance of the title track from their current album, Transatlantacism. Worth standing around for.

That ended Siren Fest. But that’s only 5 bands, you say. What? You mean there was more rock to be had in Brooklyn that day? Damn straight!

We made our way to the west side of Brooklyn, to an area called Red Hook, to a club called The Hook. Mouse and Talula elected to end their day of rock and head back to Jersey. I had lost Beef in the crowd at Siren Fest. I hope he’s OK. Point being the group was back to Roxy, J, and myself. The neighborhood surrounding The Hook didn’t seem like the kind of place you’d find a hipster hangout, but then again I’m not from Brooklyn, so how would I know where hipsters hang out?

The first band, Moving Units, was already playing when we arrived. They were hard rockers, enough to make my ears literally hurt. But the drummer and lead guitarist were playing like they were possessed, or at least chemically possessed. The drummer in particular struck me as extremely talented. Good stuff. Might have to get their record when it comes out.

The next band that graced the stage was called Bad Wizard, and they certainly lived up to the first part of their name. Then again maybe they just didn’t sound good packed into a small bar-type venue. They played as a 5-piece, including the singer, who apparently just played tambourine. They were just loud. You couldn’t hear the vocals at all. Plus it didn’t sound like we were missing much in that regard. So after a couple three songs, the three of us decided to check out the outdoor patio area of the club for the remainder of Bad Wizard’s set.

The final band, the real reason we’d decided to extend our day in Brooklyn, was Ambulance, ltd. They are proclaimed (at least on the front of their record) as one of the best new bands of the year. You probably know they’re big hit, “Primitive (The Way I Treat You).” It’s getting some MTV play, I believe. If you don’t know it, go to their Web site, where you can download it for free. I wasn’t really sure what to expect of them. I didn’t know if they’d be anything besides that one really good song. But they really impressed me. They were talented, fun to watch, and as Roxy put it, unpretentious. They didn’t act all hipster-like and “cool.” They just played great music and had a real down-to-earth stage presence. And to be honest, the impression I got of them from listening to “Primitive” was totally changed. If they’re coming to play anywhere near you, I would highly recommend checking them out. I think they’re going to be big.

After Ambulance, ltd., there was another band playing. But seeing as we had accomplished our real goals for the day, and the Ambulance hadn’t even started playing until 1 a.m., we decided to head home. I certainly wasn’t dissappointed. Not sure I could have heard them over the ringing of my ears at that point anyway. Roxy says I need to get some earplugs.

So that concluded a freaking awesome Saturday.

Sunday was much less exciting, but still good. Roxy and I went to see “I, Robot.” All I can really say is “eh.” It’s got some great effects, but you can’t see any heart or seriousness in the movie because this big buffoon named Will Smith keeps jumping in the way with some stupid one liner. A word of warning: The film is LOOSELY SUGGESTED by the Isaac Asimov book of the same name, which I cherished as a youngster. So if you’re looking for that story, you won’t find it here.

Well, I think I’ve written enough for one day. If there’s anything I forgot that’s really important, I’ll just include it in my next post. Take care…

ON AIR: Nuttin’