Mon, 23 Feb


From the heart came the music of La Res on Monday night.  Drawing on all sorts of '70's grit, La Res genuinely arrive at something new, though this last fact is unfortunately not quite yet captured in their recordings.  Nonetheless, it was palpable during their live performance.

The audience picked up on the lead singer's energy right away during the first song, called "Dust Child," and likewise became somber when he announced in the middle of the set that "these next three songs were inspired by conversations I had with soldiers," specifically those suffering from PTSD.  Thus began what he called the "war" portion of their set, leading off with a cover of Bob Dylan's "Masters of War," the singer and guitarist wailing through the verse "all the money you make will never buy back your soul."  During the middle eight section of the dark song "Trapeze," the singer, moving his face away from the microphone, screamed savagely, with very disturbing results.  Continuing in this vein was "Valley of Nowhere": "When this guy gets to his darkest place, some crazy thoughts come into his mind." 

Moving out of the war section, the band played "Freedom Song," the lyrics for which were written after Obama won the election.  In a suprisingly catchy move, the chorus featured Bee Gees-esque harmonizing between the lead singer and the drummer on the lyrics "Can you see the light?"  Underscoring this line was a repeating "lament" bass line (4 notes moving downwards).  After singing happy birthday to their manager, La Res finished out their set with "Stand," which began with the guitarist live looping himself and grew into a rowdy, harder song, inspiring some of the male audience members to form a kind of mini-moshpit. 

Sunday, Feb 15



Warm acoustic guitar; sad and happy songs ringing out sweet and mellow; brief moments of glockenspiel, whistling, pan flute; eager audience clapping along.  Mellisonant Latin-folkers Nutria NN communed with as many sweaty bodies as could get near the stage in the Upstairs Lounge at Pianos on Sunday night.  Headliner Gepe joined the group for their last two songs, singing vox on "Deten el invierno," and playing snare drum on the final song, giving its groove an unexpected military twist.  "Otra! Otra!" cried the crowd at the end of the song, answered by a simple command from Nutria's lead singer to “Stay!” for Gepe.

Sat, February 7


Melancholic lyrics and close-knit vocal harmonies make nice with electronics in Owen Lake’s rare brand of electro-country, as heard in a private performance at Prentis Hall Saturday night.  Performing on his new invention, called the Manta, Owen Lake was joined by the newly added Tragic Loves, with Penny Hunt on vocals and keyboards, and Tommy Byrd on vocals and guitar (all three use aliases).  The timbral blend heard in Owen Lake’s songs was often mesmerizing, and combine with this the flashing images being projected onto the band, it’s no wonder the trio had their audience hypnotized for most of the set.  Curious to know more about his electronic invention and choice of genre, kleineKultur contacted Owen Lake (aka Jeff Snyder) for an interview: 

So, for those of us who are electronically challenged, what is  the Manta?
“The Manta is a controller for your computer, so that you can get tactile data from your fingers into audio or video software, or whatever else you want to use it to control.  It has 48 sensors arranged in a hexagonal array, all of which continually send data to your computer about how much surface area you're covering with your fingers.  I made it because I was dissatisfied with the difficulty of really getting my hands on the numbers I was sending to my computer from more traditional knob/slider/button based controllers. Each sensor also has an LED light that provides feedback when it's touched, or can show other information from the computer if you'd like.  It also has two sliders and four assignable function buttons.  It's a powerful way to get physical gestures into your computer for live audio or video control.”

How exactly did you use the Manta during the performance?
"I was using the manta to allow me to play the electronic drum and bass synth parts simultaneously.  It was a pretty simple setup, with the different drumbeats and fills used in each song set up as loops that were accessible from particular sensors, and the bass notes used in each song also matched to certain sensors.  My right hand was controlling the bassline, and changing notes and octaves whenever necessary, and my left hand was triggering and selecting the drum loops.  I set up the top 16 sensors to give me a visual indication of the beat, so that we could play to a click and not get out of time with the computer whenever there was a rest in the drumbeat.  A quick glance at the top row of hexagons on the manta would give an instant indication of which 8th-note the computer was on in a two-bar phrase. I had to keep things relatively easy for myself, since I was doing most of the lead vocals at the same time.”

What inspired you to create an electro-country alter-ego?
“I love classic country music, especially the hardcore honky-tonk artists of the sixties and early seventies.  I imagine Owen Lake as an alternate universe 1960's honky-tonk artist, from a world where electronic instruments became available earlier and became a traditional part of the American country music instrumental arsenal. It's not that far-fetched - the most identifiable country music instrument in our universe is the pedal steel guitar, which is one of the most complex machines ever applied to the task of making music. I'm also very attracted to the emotional strength of close vocal harmonies, and I wanted to find a way to incorporate them into the types of electronic textures I usually explore.  I'm looking to book some more gigs, make some videos, and spread the electro-country gospel in the future. (of the future??)”

Fri, January 30


Joe’s Pub hosted a New Amsterdam Records extravaganza Friday night.  The first of the two sets began with the flute, viola, and harp trio Janus, a thoroughly modern group performing intricately abstract works.  Guitarist Andrew McKenna Lee joined the trio for their last song, “The Dark Out of the Nighttime,” written by him for Janus.  Lee then performed solo for the remainder of the set, with his now fluttering, now furious fingers, and his music a mixture of esotericism and Hendrixian rock.

The second set started off with Build, a double bass, violin, cello, drum kit, and piano/keyboard group.  Amidst striking purple, pink, and green lighting, Build’s songs sounded like soundtracks for: nighttime journeys; or the moment of star-crossed love-at-first-sight; or, in the case of “Magnet,” heart-pounding anticipation.  QQQ finished out the set, bringing music for a Tim Burton-esque barn jamboree and a casual stage presence that nonetheless commanded the audience’s attention.  The group was comprised of the violist from Janus, a violinist, a classical guitar player, and a drummer playing on a smaller kit made up of floor tom, kick, snare, crash, and hihat (and occasionally, melodica).  QQQ’s first song, “Runaway Puppy” was dark and lively, and their second song began with a drum solo—“drum solo!” calls out the violinist—after which the rest of the band joined him for a drunken sounding old time country ballad.  The set also included the live premiere of “Sister Sparrow,” a pretty, mournful song that featured whistling from the violist and violinist, and built in intensity as the drummer moved from the whispering of brush on snare, to the muffled boom of mallets on floor tom and crash cymbal.