Strange synchronicities abound lately, and this past week a few of them broke through the veil and showed themselves in all of their geeky glory. As Charles Eames once said, “Eventually everything connects.” Continue reading “Into the Lens: Yes, Roger Dean, and Avatar”
No Regrets: Definitive Jux Changes Gears
Under the banner of “’cause motherfuckers are bored,” Definitive Jux has been bringing its brand of boom bap to the masses for over a decade. Label co-founder and artist in his own right, El-P has been challenging preconceived notions of what it means to do Hip-hop since the early 90s when he was one-third of the germinal crew Company Flow. His ability to channel his frustrations with the world, the music, and himself into creative output is largely responsible for his abrasive sound, as well as that of his label’s roster. He once described the label’s M.O. as, “We don’t put out bullshit.”
Def Jux has cultivated a group of fans that are typically not just into one of the label’s artists. They usually like most, if not all of the artists on the label and thereby the label itself — and they are rabid, much like fans of Dischord, the early Sub Pop, or 80s-era WaxTrax. Their ceasing operations is more like a band breaking up than a label closing its doors.
But the rumors of their demise have been “mildly exaggerated.” The doors are not quite closing. Here’s what El-P had to say about it:
This year, a decade after starting Def Jux and after overseeing the releases of some incredible albums…, I’m stepping away from my duties as artistic director for the label to concentrate on what I love most: being a producer and an artist full-time. This is something I’ve been contemplating for a few years now, and can’t think of a better time or, with the eventual release of Camu’s record, a more poetic way to transition into a new direction.
This means change for Jux. Of course we’ll still have our website, we will still sell our catalog, merch and more as well as bring you news and updates on all our projects and artists… As a traditional record label Def Jux will effectively be put on hiatus. We are not closing, but we are changing. The process is already underway, and the last several months (for those wondering what the hell we’ve been up to) have been spent dealing with the technical aspects of wrapping up the label in it’s current form and re-imagining our collective and individual futures [italics mine].
Though Def Jux was one of the early labels to make the move to legitimate digital downloads via their website, real records were their bread and butter. Brian Eno recently equated records with whale blubber, saying,
I think records were just a little bubble through time and those who made a living from them for a while were lucky. There is no reason why anyone should have made so much money from selling records except that everything was right for this period of time. I always knew it would run out sooner or later. It couldn’t last, and now it’s running out. I don’t particularly care that it is and like the way things are going. The record age was just a blip. It was a bit like if you had a source of whale blubber in the 1840s and it could be used as fuel. Before gas came along, if you traded in whale blubber, you were the richest man on Earth. Then gas came along and you’d be stuck with your whale blubber. Sorry mate – history’s moving along. Recorded music equals whale blubber. Eventually, something else will replace it.
While the sea change of the past decade is hard to argue with, one still wonders what’s going to replace the records. El-P continues,
In 2000 starting a traditional record label made a lot of sense. But now, in 2010, less so and I find myself yearning for something else to put my energy into. I also see newer, smarter, more interesting things on the horizon for the way art and commerce intersect, and as an artist and an entrepreneur, I’m eager to see them unfold. The evolution of this industry is, in my opinion, exciting, inevitable and it would be nice to see the Definitive Jux brand be a part of it.
So, in a move that could be considered a sign of the times, Def Jux as a record label per se is over, but as a progressive entity is not.
“I was saddened by the news,” says Alaska, who was one third of Jux’s legendary Hangar 18. “Being part of the label was an honor and was one of the best times in my life. Thank you to El for giving me an opportunity to see the world and be part of something truly special, and it was a pleasure to be associated with all of the talented and wonderful people on the roster.”
Indeed… Peace to Alaska, Wind N Breeze, Aesop Rock, Rob Sonic, El-P, Big Wiz, Dibbs, Metro, Murs, Lif, RJD2, Cage, Calm Pete, Mike Ladd, and especially Camu Tao. Peace, respect, and power to all of your future endeavors.
In happier times? Aesop Rock, Cage, and I backstage at The Showbox in Seattle, June 14th, 2005 [photo by Yak Ballz].
Black Metallic: Until the Light Takes Us
Described as “the most widely demonized and vilified music scene in rock history,” (O’Hehir, 2009), the Norwegian black metal scene of the late 80s and early 90s took Black Metal to new extremes. The bands and fans all wore head-to-toe black leather, wrist- and arm-bands and boots with spikes or nails, and black and white “corpse paint.” Aaron Aites and Audrey Ewell’s Until the Light Takes Us (2009) tells the story of the scene in stark tones and up-close interviews.
Members of the bands Darkthrone, Mayhem, Burzum, Immortal, and Emperor provide more than a full cast of characters. The major players involved in the scene include Øystein Aarseth (a.k.a Eronymous) of Mayhem, Per Yngve Ohlin (a.k.a. Dead) of Mayhem, Varg Vikernes (a.k.a. Count Grishnackh) of Burzum and Mayhem, and Bärd Eithun (a.k.a. Faust) of Emperor, among several others. “Dead’s name was an ever-looming portent of his destiny” write Moynihan & Søderlind (2003, p. 58). Very much into self-mutilation, often on stage, Dead eventually shot himself in the head with a shotgun. His band-mate Euronymous found the body, took pictures, and reportedly took pieces of his skull and brains. One of the pictures ended up as the cover art for a live Mayhem record (Dawn of the Black Hearts; 1995), and Euronymous supposedly made stew out of Dead’s brains and necklaces out of his skull.
The sometime bass player for Mayhem and full-time one-man-band Burzum, Grishnackh, paranoid of an alleged plot by Euronymous to kill him, beat him to the punch: One late night in Oslo, Grishnackh stabbed Euronymous to death. Euronymous had been the figurehead of the Norwegian black metal scene. His record store in Oslo, Helvete, had served as a central meeting place for bands and fans, as well as a place to buy records and paraphernalia. It was darkly lit and Euronymous wanted it to be kept completely dark and to make customers use torches to see the records and their way around.
Underwhelmed by what he saw as posturing without action by Euronymous, Grishnackh allegedly set about burning down churches. Grishnackh’s philosophy is one of nationalism. He sees Christianity as colonialist, having moved into Norway and displaced the native Norse religion. His intentions did not keep the church burnings from being seen as “Satanically motivated” by the media. The heavy metal magazine Kerrang! ran a cover story that read, “Arson… Death… Satanic Ritual… The Ugly Truth about Black Metal” and the spread bore the quotation, “We are but slaves of the one with horns…” across the top of its pages (Moynihan & Søderlind, 2003, p. 100-101). “Copycat church attacks followed throughout the Northern Hemisphere, often accompanied with spray-painted pentacles and 666’s and so forth, and whatever had once been distinctive about the Norwegian scene just became, in Vikernes’ [Grishnackh] words, “a bunch of brain-dead, heavy-metal guys.”
The image of the black metal scene at large was one of darkness and evil. Hebdige (1979) writes, “In most cases, it is the subculture’s stylistic innovations which first attract the media’s attention. Subsequently deviant or ‘anti-social’ acts—vandalism, swearing, fighting, ‘animal behaviour’—are ‘discovered’ by the police, the judiciary, the press; and these acts are used to ‘explain’ the subculture’s original transgression of sartorial codes. In fact, either deviant behaviour or the identification of a distinctive uniform (or more typically a combination of the two) can provide the catalyst for a moral panic” (p. 93). The moral panic that followed the church burnings illustrates how easily such a scene is vilified and labeled “Satanic.” Subcultures are largely imagistic and operate on the level of surfaces: Never mind that half the members of the bands involved are or were serving prison terms for their actions. A movement as such quickly becomes regarded as exclusively stylistic. Attaching Satan to a movement that was largely nationalist in nature is a move that occurs on the surface of the phenomenon.
In order to get under the skin of this scene, filmmakers Aaron Aites and Audrey Ewell moved to Norway and hung-out with Darkthrone’s Fenriz, Hellhammer from Mayhem, Frost from Satyricon, the guys in Immortal, and visited Vikernes in prison, among others. Throughout the film, it is the stalwarts of the scene who tell the story. Aites and Ewell make no appearance. Their placement in situ gives the film an immediacy that many narrated documentaries lack. If you’re at all interested in the Norwegian Black Metal scene or the chaos thereof, this film is indispensable.
Until the Light Takes Us is currently making its way around the country. Keep your eyes open.
Here’s the official trailer [runtime: 2:07]:
References
Aites, A. & Ewell, A. (Directors). (2009). Until the light takes us [Motion picture]. United States: Field Pictures.
Hebdige, D. (1979). Subculture: The meaning of style. New York: Routledge.
Moynihan, M. & Søderlind, D. (2003). Lords of chaos: The bloody rise of the Satanic metalunderground. Los Angeles: Feral House.
O’Hehir, A. (2009, December 6). Sympathy for the devil worshipers: Until the light takes us movie review. Retrieved on December 7, 2009 from Salon.com.
Copyright Criminals
From Kembrew McLeod:
Word up! I want to introduce my alter ego, RoboProfessor, who just finished a dance music video about digital sampling and copyright law, with an interactive component. Here’s the website: http://www.robotainment.net/musicvideo
Also, below is all the info you need about next week’s launch of Copyright Criminals. Please forward this to any interested parties, and feel free to post anywhere!
Best,
-KM
Can you own a sound?
Copyright Criminals, a documentary produced by Benjamin Franzen and Kembrew McLeod, examines the commercial and creative value of musical sampling, including the ongoing debates about artistic expression, copyright law and money.
Copyright Criminals showcases many of Hip Hop music’s legendary figures like Public Enemy, De La Soul and Digital Underground along with emerging artists such as audiovisual remixers Eclectic Method. The film also provides an in-depth look at artists who have been sampled, such as renowned drummer Clyde Stubblefield, the world’s most sampled musician, best known for his work with James Brown, as well as commentary by Funk legend George Clinton.
JAN 19: Broadcast & DVD Release Party with ECLECTIC METHOD, MR. LEN & DJ SPOOKY
FREE with RSVP at IndiePix Evite.
Doors at 8pm. Broadcast Premiere on Independent Lens at 10pm. Brooklyn Bowl 61 Wythe Ave Brooklyn NYC 11211. Facebook Event Page
View the Trailer and promo video for the Broadcast & DVD release party at copyrightcriminals.com.
Watch on JAN. 19th PBS TV!
Check local PBS listings for the COPYRIGHT CRIMINALS broadcast on Independent Lens.
Pre-Order! The Copyright Criminals DVD is currently available for discounted pre-order from IndiePix, which manages the distribution of this film in theatrical, DVD, digital and new media markets throughout North America. The DVD will also be available at Amazon and from local video retailers January 26, 2010.
Copyright Criminals features Bobbito Garcia, Chuck D, Clyde Stubblefield, De La Soul, DJ Qbert, DJ Spooky, Eclectic Method, El-P, Eyedea & Abilities, George Clinton, Hank Shocklee, Harry Allen, Mark Hosler, Matt Black, Miho Hatori, Mix Master Mike, Mr. Len, Pete Rock, Prefuse 73, Sage Francis, Saul Williams, Shock G, and Steve Albini.
Albert Mudrian: Precious Metal
I’ve often quoted my friend and fellow writer Adem Tepedelen as saying that “heavy metal isn’t dead, it’s just wounded and pissed off.” If there’s anyone who would agree and who has set out to prove that adage, it’s Albert Mudrian.
His first book, Choosing Death: The Improbably History of Death Metal and Grindcore (Feral House, 2004), traces the, well, improbable roots and history of two of the most extreme and enduring subgenres of metal, from the teenagers who started Napalm Death and Godflesh to the teenagers who buy In Flames and Slipknot.
His second is an edited collection called Precious Metal (Da Capo Press, 2009), wherein Decibel Magazine — of which Mudrian is Editor in Chief — presents the stories behind twenty-five extreme metal masterpieces (my aforementioned friend Adem Tepedelen has a couple of chapters in there). Everyone from pioneers Black Sabbath, Celtic Frost, and Slayer, to extremists Morbid Angel, Entombed, and Cannibal Corpse, to black metal stalwarts Darkthrone and Emperor, to relative newbies Dillinger Escape Plan, Botch, and Converge — among many others — all get their due.
Having grown up with this genre and having seen it grow up as well, it was a joy to see it taken so seriously. I was interested to see how Albert Mudrian came to document its history in these books and in the monthly magazine he helms.
Roy Christopher: What made you a metal fan in the first place?
Albert Mudrian: I think that heavy metal—and even more so, extreme metal—is largely an outsiders’ style of music. So, when you’re a confused 15-year-old—like I was when I first really started to embrace heavier sounds—it’s a very appealing refuge. I think as you get older, you can look beyond the visceral aspect of the music and begin to identify some of the other qualities (musicianship, independence, progressive-thinking) that so many of the bands and musicians who make up the scene have to offer. That said, it’s a lot of fun to headbang and lift weights to this stuff!
RC: Having only recently stumbled upon Decibel, I am surprised by its openness. I remember metal, metal fans, and metal magazines being especially narrow in their views of what belonged and what didn’t. When did metal as a genre open up (or start opening up) to all things heavy?
AM: Even though they’ve been treated as such by countless other publications over the years, I don’t think extreme metal fans are stupid, narrow-minded, or humorless. That’s not to say there isn’t a knuckle-dragging contingent that still exists in the genre, but I think the average metal fan in 2009 is a bit more open and accepting to music that doesn’t exclusively contain blast beats and growled vocals (not that there’s anything wrong with that!). But, really, between black metal, doom metal, noise, ambient, metalgaze, metalcore and all of the other sub-genres and micro genres that have germinated over the past 20+ years, it’s just inevitable that metal fans would have a wider palate today than they would have back in the “good ol’ days” of the late ’80s and early ’90s. I think that helps inform for the scope of what we cover.
I think many of underground metal magazines take things a little too seriously at times and live in a vacuum, where they don’t realize that there’s this entire world of music beyond extreme music, and not making any attempts to connect with people who are maybe only 25% interested in metal.
RC: What do you make of the distance between the theatre of evil/satanic imagery and the actual people making the music?
AM: I think it really depends on the individual and exactly when they are performing in an extreme metal band. I mean, I don’t know if Glen Benton from Deicide really worships the devil anymore. Now does he hate Christianity? Probably. But those are too much different things. Same goes for all of the Norwegian black metallers who were torching churches when they were teenagers in the early ’90s. I’m not sure they’d be so willing to take such drastic measures to “drive Christianity out of Norway” today. On the other hand, take a band like Watain, who are staunch defenders of their own brand of Satanism. I call tell you they’re serious enough to heave buckets of animals’ blood into their audience at the start of their shows/rituals—a friend and I were actually collateral damage a show a couple years ago. That said, burning down a church, and making a run to the local butcher’s shop are two distinctly different levels of “dedication.”
RC: It seems like the new thing is always the next step out. It’s not necessarily progress, but it’s a progression to the next extreme—be it speed, slowness, heaviness, gore, or technical proficiency. What’s the next extreme for metal?
AM: Honestly, I don’t know how much faster, technical, or more extreme things can get at this point. If anything, I think you’ll see a regression to the simple barbarism of the early days of extreme music. There was a thrash resurgence a few years ago spearheaded by the likes of new bands such as Municipal Waste and Warbringer, along with the strong return from genre pioneers Testament. Additionally, there’s an old-school death metal revival that has really taken hold of the scene as well, typified by my personal favorite band of the movement, Deathevokation. They claim their biggest influence is the not one particular band or scene, but simply the year 1990—that’s awesome! Anyway, I think it’s pretty healthy to have this movement happening side-by-side with the Obscuras, Origins, and Necrophagists of the world, who are all really pushing the technical envelope.
RC: Hey, congratulations on your forthcoming marriage. What else is next for you?
AM: Thanks! Really, Decibel keeps me so busy each month that it’s hard to imagine things too far into the future these days. That said, I can tell you that we’re publishing a special edition of Decibel that will feature our Top 100 Greatest Extreme Metal Albums of the Decade. It should be available through our site in late November. Beyond that, look for our us to continue publishing monthly—something that’s quite a challenge these days, or so I’m told—and perhaps doing a few more Decibel “Hall of Fame”-related gigs with some of our past inductees in the coming year.
[photo by Jamie Leary]
Dossier: Brian Reitzell
So, I was watching the Kevin Spacey movie Shrink (2009) yesterday, and I couldn’t help but notice that the score sounded very similar to the one for Friday Night Lights (2004) that Explosions in the Sky did. I opened up my laptop and found out that the movie Shrink was scored by Brian Reitzell… type, type, type… enhance… type, type, type... who produced the Friday Night Lights soundtrack… and used to play drums for Redd Kross. He is also credited with coaxing Kevin Shields out of hiding to do work on the Lost in Translation (2003) soundtrack (subsequently reuniting My Bloody Valentine). Hmmm…
More typing and enhancing later and I learned that Brian Reitzell has been making badass film music for a decade now, not to mention providing the beats for one of my favorite early-90s pop bands. His unique approach to sound has abetted Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides (1999), Lost in Translation, and Marie Antoinette (2006), as well as Stranger Than Fiction (2006). He most recently — before Shrink — scored all of 30 Days of Night (2007), for which he built an instrument out of a potter’s wheel.
“I got a pottery wheel because I am obsessed with Doppler, things spinning around your head,” Reitzell told Chaos Control Digizine. “I took this black tube that I got at Home Depot and I affixed it around the pottery wheel. The pottery wheel looks like a turntable, it spins. This particular one cost me $800 so I was a little worried that I wasn’t going to be able to get it to work. But you can put 150 lbs of pressure on it, and it can extend from 0 to 280 RPMs, and you can control it with a foot pedal. So I suspended the tube with bungee cables affixed to cymbal stands, sort of around the circumference of the platter. And then I affixed a felt palette in the center of the pottery wheel using some rigging gear that cinematographers or grips use on film. The mallet would sort of rest on top of the tube, and the tube has ridges on it so when the mallet was spinning around, it would rub on those ridges and create this very eerie sound. The faster I would spin it, the higher the pitch would be. I shock-mounted microphones onto either side inside the tube, and lo and behold, I had the perfect doppler.”
Reitzell, along with Jellyfish alumni Roger Manning Jr. and Jason Faulkner, also scored a non-existant sequel to Logan’s Run (1976). Dubbed Logan’s Sanctuary, the soundtrack without a film was released by the late Emperor Norton Records in 2000, who’d also released The Virgin Suicides soundtrack. “The head of Emperor Norton asked me specifically to do that,” Reitzell explains. “It was his idea. He wanted me to do a real score to a fake movie. And that movie was to be the sequel to Logan’s Run. To do that, I enlisted my friend Roger Manning, who I’ve known for years. He played with Jellyfish, and was playing with Beck at the time. Roger and I set out to do this, but to do it I had to write a plot. So I sat down and wrote a storyline with the help of a friend, and then we started scoring scene by scene. Originally, we weren’t going to use our real names, it was going to be a hoax. But then when we turned it in, the record label was so happy with it that they wanted to exploit it.”
So, while I wait for the Shrink score to be released, I’ll be spinning Reitzell’s other soundtracks and listening to “The Lady in the Front Row” over and over. It’s good stuff.
——————
Here’s the video for TV Eyes’ “She’s a Study” [runtime: 4:52]. TV Eyes is/was (details are sketchy) Reitzell’s band with Roger Manning and Jason Falkner (ex-Jellyfish).
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Read the complete interview with Brian Reitzell at Chaos Control Digizine.
Weekly Good Stuff
Here is some stuff I’m digging for the week of September 26th, 2009:
1. Porcupine Tree The Incident
2. Southern Lord records (more specifically, Sunn O))), Boris [with Merzbow], Oren Ambarchi, Pelican, etc.)
3. This package:
4. A big pile of Daniel Menche CDs from Soleilmoon
5. UT library
6. Rediscovering Sub Rosa’s Subsonic series, including CDs by duos like Justin K. Broadrick and Andy Hawkins, Caspar Brotzmann and Page Hamilton, Bill Laswell and Nick Bullen, Lou Barlow and Rudi Trouve, et al.
7. My thrift-store copy of Dune (the very picture of “classic”):
8. Naked Raygun What Poor Gods We Do Make DVD
9. Mulholland Dr by David Lynch
10. Fez T-shirt by Polytron Corporation (the wait continues):
Grandmaster Roc Raida R.I.P.
Famous people have been passing with an alarming pace lately. It’s weird. It’s weirder when it’s someone you met or hung out with.
I’m not going to front: Roc Raida didn’t know me from anyone, but we did sit down and chat a couple of times. The first of those times was on July 27, 1997 at The Crocodile Café in Seattle. Just before the X-Men’s sound check (during which I took the photos here), I sat down in the Crocodile’s back bar with Rob Swift, Total Eclipse, Mista Sinista, and Roc Raida. I was wearing a Deep Concentration tour t-shirt that had a picture of Roc on the front. San Francisco’s Om Records had put out a compilation of Turntablists — including the X-Men — and the subsequent tour (made up of a rotating cast of beat jugglers and scratch masters) had come through Seattle the night before. As we settled in to chat and I turned on my tape recorder, Roc Raida was noticeably distracted. I asked my first question anyway, but he ignored it, saying, “I want that shirt.”
Roc Raida worked with everyone from O.C. (on the classic Word…Life LP from 1994), Big Pun (R.I.P.), Big L (R.I.P.), and Immortal Technique to Linkin Park, Mike Patton, The X-Men/X-Ecutioners (of course), and, more recently, Busta Rhymes. He was known for his innovative body tricks and lightning-fast yet super precise scratch moves, and they won him countless DMC and ITF competitions. He was dubbed “Grandmaster” by the O. G. Grandmaster himself, Grandmaster Flash. He was, simply put, one of the best doing it.
My thoughts go out to his family, friends, and all who knew him. Hip-hop and the world have suffered a great loss today.
Rest in peace, Anthony Williams.
———-
Here’s Roc Raida’s winning routine from DMC 1995 [runtime: 6:20]:
The Lies Are All True: Alien Workshop’s Mind Field
In the late 80s and early 90s, skateboarding started a transition from a five-company economy to an independently-owned, skateboarder-run, hundred-company industry. All of the sudden everyone had a company, a brand, a team, a video. Most of them are long-gone, but for a few years there, it was difficult to keep up (Foundation’s Tod Swank tells the story best).
Alien Workshop was one of the original skateboard companies to emerge from the cacophony of skateboarding’s new-found independence, and for twenty years hence they’ve maintained a uniqueness that sets them apart from the changing trends of the SoCalcentric skateboard industry at large. This uniqueness manifests itself in all aspects of their existence. Their team and their videos are no exception.
Mind Field (2009) is a reminder of everything Alien Workshop stands for, a reminder less like a post-it note and more like an atomic bomb. While one might describe Alien Workshop films as “artsy,” it never gets in the way of the skateboarding. Besides, artful clips of J. Mascis noodling around at home on his guitar, writhing plastic robot bugs, twisting weathervanes, high roaming clouds, interesting buildings, and flocking birds all ultimately coalesce into what Alien Workshop — and indeed skateboarding — is all about: individual artistic expression.
And what about the skateboarding? Well, Omar Salazar’s part, which emerges seamlessly from the clips of him strumming along with Mascis, is pure four-wheel fun. Whether it’s the over-vert full-pipe 50-50 or his huge hippie leaps, Omar just looks like he’s completely enjoying himself the whole damn time. It’s infectious.
Arto Saari’s part (my favorite here — embedded below) proves he can combine tech with gnar like no one else this side of Chris Cole. He peppers his part with subtle flips and shoves here and there without a single slippage in style or steez — and most of his tricks are big-man burly. Do not sleep on the boy.
Self-styled enigma Jason Dill keeps skateboarding weird and wild at the same time. His parts in Feedback (1999) and Photosynthesis (2000) are two of my most-watched, and his part here is hereby added to the pre-session playlist.
One can’t help but think of the mighty Jason Jessee when watching Anthony Van Engelen’s part, but he also channels some old John Lucero (the tailslide to noseslide ledge switchers). He skates mean like the both of them used to, but his update is all AVE. Where others hesitate, Anthony just monster-trucks it.
All of the rumours
Keeping me grounded
I never said, I never said that they were
Completely unfounded — Morrissey
Heath Kirchart’s closing clip doesn’t just make me want to skateboard, it makes me want to put my head down and go hard for everything I’ve ever dreamt of doing. It takes more than talent to make top-notch street skating look this clean. From the opening BS 360 and FS allie-oop lien boosters (ten feet up?) to the motorcycle tow-in street-gap BS flip, Heath just slays everything in sight, and he does it all with style and smoothness not seen since Ethan Fowler’s heyday. Determination is evident, and his thanks list in the credits says it all (“Nobody.”).
I don’t want to geek and gush much more, but let’s not forget the rest of the team. Grant Taylor kills is with big tricks and stamina to match. Steve Berra and Rob Dyrdek turn in short but impressive parts. Kalis keeps it gangster as usual. Dylan Rieder’s opening montage ollie impossible is the cleanest execution of that trick ever committed to video. His part — as well as those of Tyler Bledsoe, Jake Johnson, and Mikey Taylor — illustrate why The Workshop has one of the best teams out right now.
There’s plenty more to say — especially about the parts I just yadda-yadda’d — but the last thing I want to mention is the soundtrack. It’s mostly a solid mix of current Pitchfork-rock (Animal Collective, Battles, Elliott Smith, etc.) and individual style (Dyrdek’s Traffic, AVE’s Adolescents, Heath’s creepy Morrissey song, and you know Kalis skates to the Boom-Bap: “Boom Box” by Bullymouth). Aforementioned Workshop friend J. Mascis and his skate-video stalwarts Dinosaur Jr. contribute several songs (“A Little Ethnic Song” and “Creepies,” and “Almost Ready,” “Grab It,” and “Crumble,” respectively), and original Workshop pro Duane Pitre contributes two pieces (“Music For Microtonal Guitar And Mallets” and “Study For ‘Sun AM'”). The Workshop is a family.
Skateboarding is about pushing yourself and having fun with your friends. Mind Field may lean a little more on the former, but it’s still fun. If nothing else, it proves that Alien Workshop and solid skateboarding are here to stay.
———–
Here’s Arto Saari’s part in Mind Field [runtime: 3:57]. The hyped kinked rails are only a fraction of the story.
Russian Circles in DIG BMX
My recent feature on Russian Circles for DIG BMX Magazine has hit the stands. It’s in issue #72, if you’re interested. Also be on the lookout for their new record, Geneva (Suicide Squeaze), which hits the stores and sites on October 20th.
The full text from DIG is as follows:
The subgenre of instrumental post-rock has grown into its own over the last several years, and many of the bands emerging to represent the subgenre sound remarkably similar. The inherent irony of classification is that even as the category grows (i.e., the more bands there are that sound enough alike to lump together), the harder it gets to stand out (i.e., to be considered a part of the group, but to distinguish your work from the rest of that group). As My friend Max Bristol might say, Explosions in the Sky is a band — not a genre.
“I suppose it means there are quite a few more reference points,” says Brian Cook, who’s also done time in Botch and These Arms Are Snakes, “both for us as artists and for our audience. It means that we’re somewhat self-aware of what we do, and for the audience it may be tempting to weigh the merits of what we do against other bands and artists instead of judging it on its own terms.” Russian Circles stand out from the crowding in with sheer brut force. They are a power trio with the emphasis on power. Where other groups’ slow builds often leave one dissatisfied with the release, these guys drop it like it’s too heavy. They can simmer with the slowest of boilers and riff it up with the most metalest. It’s a difference difficult to describe but easy to hear, leaving many writers — myself included — sounding stupid.
At the time of this writing, Mike Sullivan (guitar), Brian Cook (bass), and Dave Turncrantz (drums) were just finishing up in the studio with Brandon Curtis (of Secret Machines) behind the boards, working on a follow-up to last year’s massive and majestic Station (Suicide Squeeze). “We were less concerned with perfect takes and more concerned with perfect tones,” Cook says of their studio time. “We switched up a lot of ideas as we were recording and we were less concerned with making sure we could replicate the material live as we were with making a compelling album. both Enter (Flameshovel, 2006) and Station were pretty faithful to how we play live, so we felt we could get away with doing an album where we elaborate on the material a bit more.” Apparently, the new album will incorporate strings and brass, as well as a howling dog — none of which they’re planning to take on tour.
“The new album is a bit longer than we had planned,” Cook continues, “but all the material made sense together. We don’t want to overstay our welcome, so we feel that six or seven songs is about the extent of material people can put up with in one sitting.” Of course, six or seven songs, an EP for most bands, for Russian Circles is an epic, album-length amount of time. Knowingly, Cook adds, “We’ll take our chances that our ADD-afflicted culture can put up with our self-indulgence.”
Upon seeing me ride my bike one day, jumping curbs and such, a friend of mine commented that while I was out learning to ride BMX, he must’ve been in his room learning to play his guitar. The same might be said of Cook. “Once upon a time,” he says, “my friend was packing me on the handlebars of his BMX. He went off a really big curb and my foot slid in between the spokes of the wheel. I was barefoot. I broke eight of the spokes with my foot and flew headfirst into the asphalt. Remarkably, I didn’t break anything, but that was the last time I’ve been on a BMX.”
So, no more bikes for Russian Circles, but they are planning to thin out the instrumental post-rock competition. “On a side note,” Cook concludes, “I am starting a ballot initiative that would require people to apply for a license before they can buy a delay pedal. That should help stymie the popularity of this brand of music.”
