When I stumbled upon Maids at a one-off Upstairs CD-R show at Coco66 this Spring, I remember stopping dead in my tracks, covering my ears in pain, and being unable to stop mouthing the words, “Abandon All Hope All Ye Who Enter.” Behind a suffocating wall of smoke, the 2-man rhythm section of New Jersey’s Big Troubles could be seen down on the ground in matching child’s poses, bowing in deference before a projection of a giant floating head — not unlike the Wizard himself, pictured above. I could barely make out what type of gear they were using, but the squall they produced was so debilitatingly loud that I couldn’t help remembering the one time I saw Whitehouse play and actually experienced the sensation of my ear drums being stretched to the ripping point. Funny thing, is Maids sound like nothing like Whitehouse. As I learned when Sam Franklin (also of No Demons here) rolled up to Newtown radio last Sunday, they simply layer purring drones and lackadaisical pentatonic keyboard scales until the room gets so saturated with sound that you actually end up getting a little scared. Probably all the more so because they are clean-cut surburban dudes who play in indie rock bands and show up on stage with their shirts tucked in.
Underwater Visitations Episode #7: The Maids Episode
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SXSW 2010 was as blissed-out an exercise in excess as an exercise in excess can be. All in all, the Visitation Rites mobile reporting team (videographer Samantha Cornwell and I) probably caught more sun, saw more live bands, walked more miles, ate more tacos, drank more beer, laughed more, bickered more, took more photos, tweeted more tweets, shot more video, and reunited with more old friends than in all of 2009 combined. After five consecutive days of non-stop partying and documenting, however, we couldn’t help feeling a bit crestfallen when we realized that SXSW wouldn’t last forever. (more…)
Collage: In-studio photo by Anna Gonick and artwork by Wish
Last Sunday, Visitation Rites returned to Arthur Radio to celebrate the astronomical conjunction of the Chinese New Year, Valentine’s Day, and President’s day, which just so happened be the release date for Excepter’s almost eponymous new double L.P. Presidence (preview inside). Rather than make love songs the ordre du jour, we thought we would simply regale you with some tunes that have been pulling our heart strings of late. In the second hour, Zeljko McMullen of the music/visual/art collective Shinkoyo, and founder of Brooklyn’s Paris London West Nile DIY performance space, took us a thousand leagues under the sea of pop musical detritus with his electronic solo project, Wish. (more…)
This past Sunday, I made my way over to the intersection of Melrose and Heliotrope, a punk pocket that is semi-officially known as the “Bicycle District” of Los Angles. I was there to check out the very first show at the brand new performance space known as The Strange (not to be confused with The Smell). The show was called “No Cancer” and was a benefit concert for a woman named Irene Garcia, presumably the mother of a friend of the organizers. The bill was stacked with a who’s who of LA-based lo-fi artists: No Age, Abe Vigoda, and Nodzzz to name a few. I, however, was there to see Best Coast, who just kicked off a tour of the West Coast with the Vivian Girls. With my video camera tucked under my arm, I headed to the show in the hope of making a live video to be eventually posted on Visitation Rites. I hadn’t ever made a live video before, but I figured there was no time like the present! (more…)
If you are a lady, and indie rock musicians have been swimming the waters of your dating pool of late, you will probably identify with at least one of the stories of misguided infatuation and disappointment that Best Coast has been laying out to dry in the sun. Bethany Cosentino is all heart, belting out her little lovesick pop jewels like its 11:59 on December 31, 2011 and she knows that the world is going to end anyway. When it sparked a viral frenzy via this YouTube fan video last summer, her “Sun Was High (So Was I)” track became everybody’s favorite soundtrack for staring straight into the late afternoon sun and imagining the face of the one that got away smiling back at you. “Up all night,” which has also been floating around for some time now, captures the nocturnal flip-side of that experience: looking up at moon from your bedroom window and being unable to see his mournful hazel eyes there because it’s already three am and he didn’t call when he said he was going to. Oh well, child star. He wasn’t really worth your time anyway, and at least you got another beautiful song out of it. (more…)
When I stumbled upon Maids at a one-off Upstairs CD-R show at Coco66 this Spring, I remember stopping dead in my tracks, covering my ears in pain, and being unable to stop mouthing the words, “Abandon All Hope All Ye Who Enter.” Behind a suffocating wall of smoke, the 2-man rhythm section of New Jersey’s Big Troubles could be seen down on the ground in matching child’s poses, bowing in deference before a projection of a giant floating head — not unlike the Wizard himself, pictured above. I could barely make out what type of gear they were using, but the squall they produced was so debilitatingly loud that I couldn’t help remembering the one time I saw Whitehouse play and actually experienced the sensation of my ear drums being stretched to the ripping point. Funny thing, is Maids sound like nothing like Whitehouse. As I learned when Sam Franklin (also of No Demons here) rolled up to Newtown radio last Sunday, they simply layer purring drones and lackadaisical pentatonic keyboard scales until the room gets so saturated with sound that you actually end up getting a little scared. Probably all the more so because they are clean-cut surburban dudes who play in indie rock bands and show up on stage with their shirts tucked in.
