The Lisps are going on tour for a month. Without you there is nothing. No tacos, no cheerios, no heroes. You are everything to us. Be with us. Complete us. Come with us.
Love, The Lisps
National Tour Dates:
Friday 4/6/07 @ Galapagos Artspace - Brooklyn, NY
Thursday 4/12/07 @ Six Points Music Festival (Red & Black Bar) - Washington DC*
Friday 4/13/07 @ The Werehouse - Winston-Salem, NC*
Saturday 4/14/07 @ The Space - Greensboro, NC*
Tuesday 4/17/07 @ The Spazzatorium Galleria - Greenville, NC*
Wednesday 4/18/07 @ Joli Rouge - Asheville, NC*
Thursday 4/19/07 @ Electric Ballroom - Knoxville, TN*
Friday 4/20/07 @ Club Detour - Athens, GA*
Saturday 4/21/07 @ Nophest at 11:11 Tea House - Atlanta, GA*
Sunday 4/22/07 @ Cafe Brasil - New Orleans, LA
Monday 4/23/07 @ Neutral Ground - New Orleans, LA
Tuesday 4/24/07 @ Emo's - Austin, TX
Tuesday 5/1/07 @ The Make Out Room - San Francisco, CA
Thursday 5/3/07 @ Silverlake Lounge - Los Angeles, CA
Saturday 5/5/07 @ Scene Bar , Los Angeles, CA
Wednesday 5/9/07 @ The Way Out Club - St. Louis, MO
Thursday 5/10/07 @ The Darkroom - Chicago, IL
Friday 5/11/07 @ The Dreamland Theatre - Ypsilanti, MI#
Saturday 5/12/07 @ TBA - Cleveland, Ohio#
Monday 5/14/07 @ Luna Lounge - Brooklyn, NY#
* - w/ Senryu
# - w/ Double Dutch Will Take You Higher
SD, KC, Tuscon still TBA
the lisps - myspace - website
via 3 pints and a towel
"Fallen Snow" - Au Revoir Simone
"The Winter That I Missed" - The Lisps
"Hello Sunshine" - Super Furry Animals
"The Gloating Sun" - The Shins
"Another Sunny Day" - Belle and Sebastien
"Jogging Gorgeous Summer" - Islands
"Oslo in the Summertime" - Of Montreal
Great essay on coolfer about the ridiculousness of SXSW.
My wish for SXSW 2008 is for a trained economist or a consumer behavior expert -- or at least Malcolm Gladwell -- spend four days in Austin examining the competition for attention given scarce resources and even scarcer consumer attention. A marketing researcher would love attending parties at SXSW. The overkill of third-party sponsorships, branding efforts and promotions is a microcosm of American marketing inside a tiny geographical space. An academic take on the week would make for great reading.
This is a new part of my blog where I randomly and undemocratically post my friends shows. I'll post my friends shows on a strictly irregular basis.
Wednesday March 21st - Bell @ Rockwood Music hall 10pm
Breathing for the Whale is my friend Michael Turvin's new band which includes, among many other celebrities, Scott Winegard (of texas is the reason fame...am I allowed to say that?)
Saturday March 24th - The Music Slut's Spring Fling!!!! @ The Delancey. 8pm
Featuring - Locksley, The Silent Years, A Brief Smile, Cassettes Won't Listen & The Midnight Hours The combined myspace friends of these bands is actually 27 billion. Unbelievable.
Monday March 26th - Vague Angels @ Union Hall.
Chris Leo has brought truth and justice to the entire European continent in the last
3 months. Come see if he's washed his hair and hear his amazing band.
Elliott Hundley's terrifyingly detailed, cluttered, colorful, and brilliant work is on display until April 21st at the Andrea Rosen Gallery.
I just Discovered EarFarm's 8+ series...Which is another example of why i love earfarm.
from the site:
EAR FARM's 8+ is a weekly feature that showcases songs longer than 8 minutes. In the recent past these songs were featured on EF's 8+:
Sleep - "Jerusalem (Pt. 4)"
The Velvet Underground - "The Gift"
Elton John - "Funeral for a Friend / Love Lies Bleeding"
Jenő Jandó - "Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2"
The Temptations - "Take a Stroll Thru Your Mind"
Deerhoof - "Look Away"
Tan Dun - "Symphony 1997: II. Earth (Yi3)"
Jane's Addiction - "Three Days"
To see a full list of every song featured in EAR FARM's 8+ click HERE
So I checked out the Velvet Underground "The Gift" and I liked it so much I went and bought this:
This video is absolutely amazing. I'm not even going to try and speak intelligently about it. It's just really unbelievable. This is the complexity and crooked hyperactivity that I've been looking for all over my apartment, and it's completely consumable. And the dancers...indie rock needs more dancers. I'm working on that on my end.
Oh and Olga Bell made me do it.
olga: arctic monkeys really are amazing, for all the shit everyone's given them
olga: no really
me: I see about that
olga: just look up the live jools holland show
me: I don't think i can take arctic monkeys right now but I'll put it in the queue
olga: they would be nowhere, i think, without (1) the RIDICULOUS charisma of their lead singer
me: and 2?
olga: (2) big holy holes between their oy-oy-oy loud parts and parts when just Alex was all by himself
come to think of it, the band is just pretty tight
me: I believe it
olga: anyway, i'm sure you've things to attend to besides arctic monkeys smalltalk :)
me: yes I'm procrastinating
working on a Haitian gangster film
Here's a bit on the wonderful Nico Muhly. I got to share a bill with Nico while I was hanging onto Corey Dargel's coattails last year at the New Yorker Festival. Brilliant, precocious, friendly, unpretentious, and quite attractive if I do say so. Some people got it all.
Young Composer Finds His Fuel in Restlessness
Two of my favorite guitar Goddesses Kaki King and Marnie Stern make headlines.
Guitar Heroes, Make That Heroines, in Indie Rock
Reverse engineering Glenn Gould for a computer to play is always fun to read about. But I'm confused because I thought John Oswald was working on this very thing, but there's no mention on him or his cohort Ernest Cholakis.
Is It Live ... or Yamaha? Channeling Glenn Gould
I can never resist reading the new york times writing about indie rock. And my mom always forwards it to me: "This article made me think of you." I love you mom, and yes I've heard of (insert name of absurdly popular band)
Auditioning for the World Stage at an Austin Festival
[pipettes at luna lounge 3/12/07]
1. Let's be clear...I have no prejudice for bands which seek to invoke the sublime and ineffable musical past.
2. I myself am in a band that does that very thing.
3. Maybe it's that I couldn't put my finger on anything new about their music.
4. costumes were great, hand motions and choreography was cute, but what's below the surface?
5. I'm all for cute. I love cute. But in order for me to give myself over to it, cute needs to be a vehicle for something more subversive, interesting, or unexpected.
6. Music Snobbery, in a moment of total un-snobbishness, said that last night all the jaded new yorkers left their cynical self-consciousness at home and let loose on the dance floor. er...I guess they all read that blog and got self-conscious again tonight.
7. There is something irritating about music that's inexorably happy and un-complicated. I just feel like I can't give myself over to something that seems like it has it's head in the clouds. I guess it's fine to be monochromatically sunshiney, but all the hemming and hawing from bloggers makes it seem like there should be much more to this music.
8. Am i like the Grinch trying to talk about Christmas?
9. Yes they are all beautiful and clearly talented musicians, but why should I go see them instead of drinking a beer at home and renting Grease? I wanted to find the answer to that and i didn't. The songs and choreography in grease are WAY better. But The Pipettes are better because ___________. (someone please fill in the blank)
One great thing about the night was I got my first chance to see the new Luna Lounge. Holy God what an amazing new venue. The sound was excellent, not ear bleedingly loud and the space is so huge. Kate of Mattison was there and everyone was very nice.
Maybe the pipettes are just playing it safe and cute so that they get super famous
and then they're going to blow everyone away with 6 hour psychedelic 3rd-wave feminist rock opera directed by Matthew Barney. Call me when that happens because I have a date with Greased Lightning.
Here's a shaky video of their last song (before encore) for you devotees and skeptics alike...Pull Shapes is their single and was definitely the most lively of the set:
This is a brilliant and refreshingly optimistic take by Alvin Curran (in the nytimes music blog) on the massive garbage pile of modern music. "Contemporary humans have become pathological music junkies reduced to searching obsessively for the ultimate 'Ode to Joy' cell-phone ring."
and this quote is going up on the wall:
"I continue, as do so many musicians today, to produce original music for the sheer pleasure of composing –material and existential consequences notwithstanding – and amazingly I actually live off it. Even if all these efforts only wind up as grand compost for some future musical species, they will at least have served the practitioners of this ancient craft well in our magical and sometimes enviable activity of making sound for a living."
I'm posting the whole thing because timeselect is stupid.
The human animal is eminently musical, a creature that consciously builds its own instruments and organizes and projects repeatable sound structures in time, heard in selected spaces on occasions of special purpose. Human music is a vehicle for personal and collective enjoyment and expression, and a means to transcend time and place. Its widespread presence and diversity suggests an underlining socio-physiological necessity. Apparently there are no people on this planet during the last 30,000 years who did not and do not make their own music. So it is no surprise to wake up in the year 2007 and find music everywhere all the time.
MUSIC OF OUR TIME/ALL TIME
Until the advent of consumer music publishing in the 19th century, and particularly until the beginnings of sound reproduction – piano rolls, wire and disc – in the early 20th century, what we now call “art music” (the highbrow stuff as distinguished from working-class pop music) was live music made by various artisans and artists for the elite classes of their time – music composed, published, and often performed by living composers for the enjoyment and cultivation of their noble, religious, or bourgeois patrons. The European masters of the last 500 years are clear examples of this proposition: Monteverdi, Purcell, Vivaldi, Bach, Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Berlioz, Brahms, Chopin, Wagner, Verdi, Mahler – even Debussy, Ravel, and Stravinsky in the early 20th century – were the most in-demand composers of their respective times and places.
The rapid rise of duplicated, recorded, and broadcast music changed this forever, offering such quantity and diversity to listeners as to challenge the fast turnover of newly commissioned compositions and even the longstanding tradition of live concerts, and in the second half of the 20th century the increasingly globalized music business, with its growing production, media and distribution technologies, made the music of anyone from any time potentially available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, to anyone else anywhere on our planet – a state of affairs that is unique in the history of human music.
With this unprecedented universal availability and vast consumer potential, a new parity between the musics of living composers and dead ones, and those of any other nation and time, has come to be a permanent fact of life. The “music of our time” has become the “music of all time,” period.
One factor in this new picture, bigger than Beethoven, is the powerful influence and ubiquitous aura of Afro-American musics now evident in practically every musical culture on the planet; this poses a formidable counterweight to a once exclusive, essentially white European cultural monopoly and at the same time offers a mesmeric source of alternative musical energy – witnessed particularly by my own generation in its successive attraction to blues, Dixieland, swing, be-bop, rock, free jazz, post-free, hip-hop – and leaving its stamp on art music from Debussy to David Lang.
To complete this story, we must consider that the events of “our time” take place nearly a century from the time Arnold Schoenberg caused a massive rift in Western compositional practice by conferring equality on all 12 equal-tempered tones. Schoenberg’s historically natural proposition has on the one hand liberated composers from the imposing weight of Europe’s musical past, encouraging them to experiment endlessly with new musical syntax. On the other hand its unnerving dissonance has contributed to the consolidation of reactionary tendencies, among these the almost religious preservation, restoration, and performance of all previous Western music. Schoenberg’s revolution is even responsible, in the end, for today’s trendy escape from his democratized 12 notes into exotic tunings ranging from Balinese microtonality to cool scientific French spectralism.
NEW CONFUSION OR NEW COMMON PRACTICE?
As a composer of art music I find this new ballgame disorienting, perfectly natural (because it all happened in my own lifetime), and marvelous in its anarchic essence and unknowable consequences. To quote an apt phase in John Cage’s Norton Lectures “I-VI,” “This is the new confusion…” – and indeed it is in this new confusion that I suspect we may find both the seeds and the genesis of a New Common Practice – the very practice of endless possibility and confusion we now inhabit.
Nowadays, composers must cope not only with an infinite world of recombinant sonic potential – the placing and joining of any imaginable sound with any other sound, often disregarding their original meanings and contexts – but also with putting these sounds in untried containers and spaces not always within walking distance – as in Internet music and sound installations: the new big buzz.
One group of composers (the majority) sensibly consolidates its contemporary experience within acceptable and reasonable limits dictated by prevailing academic, economic and cultural trends. The other group focuses on unfettered creativity and experiment even if at the expense of career or general acceptance — Maryanne Amacher, Laurie Anderson, Robert Ashley, Anthony Braxton, Glenn Branca, Morton Subotnik, Steve Reich, Pauline Oliveros, Frederic Rzewski, LaMonte Young, John Zorn, to name just a few — and seem to be constantly stirring up trouble, not knowing or even caring whether we are unleashing deadly germs or finding new cures.
As today’s composers are left with a compass pointing in all directions at once, much of the general public is like so many derelict ships, adrift on endless seas of musical offerings, searching for some life-saving detritus. In megashops they anxiously seek new thrills by diving in the Vivaldi bins, the doo-wop bins or in the bins of Baroque, ska, metal, bluegrass, Gregorian, Kraut, space, house, goth, Mannheim, grunge, gypsy, salsa, Tuvan, free, Bulgarian, Elizabethan, Indian, dub, bebop, scratch, noise, chamber… all of them “music for the end of time,” mute rivers of immaterial sonic memory cleverly recorded on cheap materials with guaranteed short life-spans.
The offer never stops, the shops never close, new products never cease to appear. The inventory contains every imaginable recorded sound in the universe, and the dispensaries are everywhere. Who needs them? The whole shebang is now downloadable — in an Internet mall the size of Jupiter and Mars combined. But like those photos we see of wretchedly poor people combing mountains of garbage to extract anything life-sustaining, there’s always somebody somewhere searching in these endless bins for a new musical experience.
And the same people will listen to the stuff while they sleep, eat, meditate, work, shop, travel, procreate, and run. Contemporary humans have become pathological music junkies reduced to searching obsessively for the ultimate “Ode to Joy” cell-phone ring.
The contradiction is clear: Business has never been better, despite the territorial clash between composers of art music (presently the underdogs) and pop music (the undisputed top dogs) as both struggle in a contest for cultural and economic space with each other and with all the musics ever made: Feldmanesque string-quartets are pitted against feel-good muzak, 5.1 home-symphonic blowouts against unmediated sub-woofer rumble, songs of endangered peoples and animals against dub, art-ensemble free-soup against concerti for viola da gamba, concerts of ship horns against sonic meditations, sunspot flurries controlling Max Patches against mobs of detuned mandolins, gangsta against Zydeco cocktails against amplified gastric juice installations, Klangforum Germanic perfection against Turkish rap stars against experimental Internet improvs with strangers who you cannot see, touch, smell, or even hear very well.
SURVIVING IN THE SONIC MAELSTROM
Among the new critical theorizing – Stochastic, Phat, and Fractal – and in this sonic pandemonium of apocalyptic consumerism, everyday normality, and the post-post modern substitution hypothesis (i.e., any audible music or noise is as good as any other), certain questions float to the surface: Where’s the art music? Where’s its beloved ritual? Its new direction? Its discerning listeners?
And, of special personal interest, Where are its composers? The honest answer is: here we are – a small curious obdurate and often threadbare band who for unknown reasons cannot do otherwise. Us and a few imaginative producers and caring patrons – the same ones Mozart begged work from, and Beethoven wrote pleading letters to. This is what I tell my befuddled students when they ask me how to make a living from this perplexing “confusion.” Yet, the bottom line in bucks tells us there simply is not enough demand for music which insists on simply engaged and focused listening attention – and which, without aid of visuals and without shaking your booty, asks you take this as “the” music of our time, as if it were made by the village shaman next door. In a world where most music is made by corporate harmonists, kick-ass tunesmiths, and turntable fakirs we, the artisans and curators of the traditional cultured musical forms, are a tribe of job hunters out on the prowl.
Admittedly between the memory museum and the maelstrom there’s a lot of stuff going down, and the new music thing is far from over. A struggling but very lively and resistant new musical culture continues to appear like weeds in the cracks of the sidewalks everywhere … in clubs, labels, festivals, in university music departments, in organizations like Meet the Composer, The American Music Center, and the A.A.C.M. and its many spinoffs, through sumptuous foundations, grants prizes and residencies, commissioning programs for symphonic, choral, chamber, live-electronic and band; in the new jazz, the long-overdue prominence of women composers, a phenomenal burgeoning of new forms of electronica, DJ, multimedia-opera, radiophonic sound-art, urban and Internet sound installation. In this vast field of cross pollination and morphing-genres, musical creativity is booming, producing numerous evolving forms that are being cultivated – on the American scene, in Europe, in South America and now Asia and Africa – with increasing audience and respect – always pleading for more money but, like it or not, always there.
This is the world I have been working in for 50 years and on reflection lucky to have been a part of. Neither my mentor and teacher Elliott Carter nor I could have known that I would go off and write successful string quartets and works for fog horns, 6-hour piano concerts and radio soundscapes of insects and moving air. The sheer openness and wackiness of our times demand constant migration and survivalist invention; they promise everything but guarantee absolutely nothing.
John Cage was penniless but immovable in purpose; by the end of his life he could hardly satisfy the demand for new pieces. Some of my colleagues have gone on to make laudably successful careers. I continue, as do so many musicians today, to produce original music for the sheer pleasure of composing –material and existential consequences notwithstanding – and amazingly I actually live off it. Even if all these efforts only wind up as grand compost for some future musical species, they will at least have served the practitioners of this ancient craft well in our magical and sometimes enviable activity of making sound for a living.
P.S.: As the recent YouTube concert given by a kitten-on-the-keys improvising feline pianist is in my opinion some of the best music of the year, maybe the “new confusion” is beginning to bear fruit.Alvin Curran playing two keyboards at a concert at RAI studio in Rome,
When we Lisps walked into the studio up at Bard to start work on our new full length in January we found the admirable and brilliant Bob Beleicki mixing a dark yet bouncy and intensely catchy live recording/video by Elvis Perkins. What's amazing about this video is that the sound Bob got completely live in a house (with nearly all his mics hidden) is so much more vibrant than the actual single from the album. Unfortunately the youTube is a low quality compression but I still love it. That was the first I had heard of Mr. Perkins, and now he's everywhere.
enjoy the video...
Elvis Perkins - Mypsace - Website
Alright guys. This is it....please come out and get down with us tonight!
Fontana's is at
105 Eldridge btwn Grand and Broome
(B,D to Grand or F, J, M, Z to Essex/Delancey)
Fontanas is 1.5 blocks south of Delancey on Eldridge which is s one block west of Allen
click here for map
8pm The Subway Band
10pm The Lisps
11pm Scary Mansion
w/ The Music Sluts DJing!!!