First off is Pinegrove, comprised of Evan Hall on guitar and Nandi Plunkett on percussion. Both croon. Both, sadly for me and other Ohio fans, just graduated; hopefully they’ll go on to ¡make mas musica! The former, generally, has some form of head ware — my favorite being the headband. I picture tabs of acid inside its folds. The latter dons stylish black glasses and bangs on her drums cooly, mysteriously. I can only assume their band spirit animal is the mantis shrimp (pictured above).

Their four songs — On Jet Lag, DAYS, Metronome, and Recyling —  are emotional, marching, surprising. Their Mixtape One is soothing, stirring, and triumphant. Listen to it, HERE, top-to-bottom, with the pauses, as the artists intended. Tell me what ya think. There’s also one song, My Reckless Parts, a bucking piece of primevality, seemingly by Evan himself?, on their facebook page. Shit’s somehow mesmerizing.

The highest and flyest band with a cool low-fi flow, The Young Crooks, were formed in 2010 and have been playing together for a year now; Win Dunham and Mikey Bullister freshmen, Edik Sher a sophomore. Their first gig at Kenyon College was an impromptu unveiling… in a laundry room. Needless to say, shit was hot. (Rocking out atop those washers and dryers, keyboarding and beat-boxing like the funky fiends they are, I’da paid an admission fee of so much more than the $3.50 it costs to do a load of laundry.) That was back in their early days, when weekends we would wear our “Snow Coat,” watch the world, just smoke dope — and it was oh-oh, so, beautiful. (Rocking out atop those washers and dryers, keyboarding and beat-boxing like the funky fiends they are, I’da paid an admission fee of so much more than the $3.50 it costs to do a load of laundry.) Since, they have put out a five-song EP entitled PHONE.

The Young Crooks list a myriad of influences, from The Notorious B.I.G. (big pop-pa) to The Velvet Underground, Arctic Monkeys to MIA, The Radio Dept. (dream-pop) to Jamie T (dude’s awesome; bass-driven free verse brit-blues), Vampire Weekend to Jimmy Cliff, The Cool Kids (low-fi hip-hop) to Outkast. And that’s the abridged version.

They describe themselves as “Dream pop, plus reggae and hip-hop,” and Win calls it “slacker pop.” Adding, “It’s pretty hard to stick in one genre.” Luckily, there are ways other than genre to characterize a band. Win provides what might serve as a key insight: “Our band spirit animal is a penguin smoking a j. Seriously. It has to be smoking a j otherwise we don’t fucks wit it. Pothead penguins only.”

PHONE is the fruit of all three band members’ labors. Edek laid the foundational beats, Mikey played the gui-tar, Win wrote and spat the words while tickling the keys. The EP is decidedly low-fi, optimistic but by no means antiseptic. “Lyrics about love, drugs, and kids these days,” it boasts. Listen here, I think you’ll find it hard to disagree.

Moreover: listen, hear— the abandon. Whether it’s of the heart, utter and complete, as in Sucka Stand Up (Intro). Of all responsibility, listen to it dissipate in Today, because “It’s all okay / We’re just dumb kids anyway.” Or abandon of all sobriety, between “dropping acid like an Aztec” and “40s from Catherine” and “30 milligrams of Ritalin in the minivan;” and of all mortality, “I want to be kid man I won’t never be killed,” in Young Sons.

In Wasting Time, we eventually get the feeling that the gig is up for The Young Crooks. With their hands raised and a smile on their face, there’s an abandon of the chase: “I think I’m giving up and I’m giving in, too.” But they assure, “I’ll get the money, you’ll see, not gonna fall through.” Then, in these final, sage moments of PHONE, steam rising from the piano-and-snare pounded pavement like after a sunrain, not an abandonment of childhood, but a slight turning, and acknowledging, of what’s to come: “And we’re all growing older, but dear, we’re growing up, too.” But it’s all okay – not because we’re just dumb kids anyway – but because of the addendum, “And I don’t mind wasting my time when it’s with you.”

Infuckingdeed.

This year, or at least the first half of it, The Young Crooks will be touring the mid-west, based outta Texas. Unfortunately it’ll just be Mikey and Win, losing Edek’s beat-dropping abilities, but hopefully employing Mikey’s beat-boxing. As Win described it, “We’re gonna do a two-person show with Mikey playing guitar and fucking with a laptop and I’ll be playing keys or maybe even a keytar.” I’ve seen hip-hop artists Blueprint and Budo successfully utilize these toy-looking lightweight keyboard-guitar instruments; Win could kick some serious ass with one. “It’s gonna be pretty crazy. Were trying to get some shows together in Austin, plus we’ve got some gigs in Fayetteville, Memphis, LA”— and hopefully to Kenyon again.

We welcome you back, with hearts as open and warm as dryer-doors.

Finally, I bring you Kid Winter. There’re some (now-)familiar names in this band: Win (drums), Edek (bass), and Mikey (guitar and vocals). Joining them, most crucially, is Rhodes Sabangan on guitar and Lily Zwaan on trumpet. They both sing, and they both have a special way of greeting you from afar, and of saying dude like it’s spelled with five o’s, and Rhodes wears red pants and looks like Scar and Lily’s just the jolliest and–  They’re just really great people.

And, not so coincidentally, they just make really great music. Their Bus EP contains four tunes full of sincerity and fun and energy. Mikey said each song was spearheaded by a different member of the band, accounting for the different sounds in the tracks. One of my favorites, Sunnyside Up, is especially gleeful. You can hear it when Lily says “I’m so readyy” at the start of the track, or as she growls the chorus, or in the growling guitar grooving along or when the acoustic kicks right into the trumpet blaring through it’s just so bloody good! It’s also, I think, the most professional sounding track on Bus.

Kid Winter plays catchy music. Ringing, swinging the rifts so that they reside so easily in your ear; easy enough for even the haziest memories. Big City Strut’s whu-o! whu-0! whu-o! whu-o! w-a! triggers something in the gut, something that you can’t and don’t want to get out. Rhodes trounces this song on the vocals, too.

I happen to like the title track, as well, but I may be slightly biased. Yes, there’s the opening lyrics, so sultry in their lament, and perfectly paired with the guitar picking and electric licks. But, for me, there’s something else. Y’see, I may or may not be in the song’s chorus — the yelling of the “Hey!” — I took part… I’m just not sure if they used the take I helped out on. I’d like to think they did.

For whatever reason you have, and you will have one, I know you will enjoy la musica de Kid Winter. Once you figure out what reason that is, share it with them. They’re good people, and would probably love to hear what you have to say.

The breathless End.

The first service that I’m going to review is Spotify, the European music solution that has been hailed as “the future of the music business.” As soon as it was introduced here in the states I signed up for an Unlimited account, setting me back $5 a month in return for unlimited, ad-free streaming of Spotify’s entire catalog. Also by signing up for a paid subscription I didn’t have to wait for an invitation, and I was excited. I haven’t decided if i’m going to keep paying for my subscription or downgrade to a free account, but I’m probably going to keep it because even though 10 hours is probably enough and I don’t mind ads, I’ve heard reports that it will also limit you to 5 plays of any individual song every month, and I tend to get addicted to tracks and listen to them on repeat so 5 plays a month doesn’t sit well. 5 bucks a month isn’t terrible either. I’ve lightly considered bumping up to the Premium plan, which would unlock the Spotify app on my Droid X (running Android 2.3), but thats a bit pricry for me. Especially for the way I use the service.

After playing around with it for a few weeks, I think Spotify definitely fills a nice in my music listening life but I don’t think its going to totally revolutionize it. For one, I’m the kind of person that likes to own my music. I like that my hard drive is full of songs that I can do whatever I want with. I can put my songs on my iPod and phone, burn them to CDs for the car, and listen to them without any restrictions. I can even toss them into Audacity and manipulate them if I want. Even if I don’t have internet access, even if I don’t have the money to pay a monthly bill, I have my music. If I decided to sail to a deserted island tomorrow I could bring my music. Yes, I would need electricity to power my laptop or music player, but electricity is often easier to find than internet or money. With Spotify your music is never 100% yours. There are major upsides to it though.

I have a lot of music, and I buy a lot of music, but there’s always more. That’s where Spotify comes in. I’ve been using Spotify to listen to albums that I really like but haven’t committed to puchasing yet. For example, last year I discovered the amazing NJ rock band Titus Andronicus and immediately purchased their most recent album The Monitor. After listening to and loving The Monitor Ifound a vinyl copy of their debut,  The Airing of Grievances, but I never got a digital copy. I liked the album, just not quite enough to pay for it a second time. So, when I got Spotify, I added The Airing of Grievances to my library. I’m also a big fan of The Hold Steady but I’ve never committed to purchasing their first album in its entirety, so I’ve been listening to that on Spotify too. Another purpose it to sample new stuff without having to invest ten bucks in an album you might not like.  An example of this is how I’ve never gotten into Radiohead. I’ve always wanted to sit down with their albums and see what I’m missing, but I didn;t want to illegally download them and also didn;t really want to spend a ton of cash on a band I might not like. So with Spotify, I don’t have to.  I just have everything already.

Will I keep buying albums? Yes, because I like shopping for and owning music.  Will I continue to use iTunes? Yes, because it has a solid built-in store and I prefer its interface for playing my local files to Spotify’s. Do I like Spotify enough to pay for it? Yes. Having a huge library at your fingertips is amazingly useful. I definitely recommend it.

Before he was where he is now, he was “a classically trained musician and began learning the piano at the age of four,” which is very palpable in his control of the tension-and-release dynamic and the pretty licks of piano that lace many of his songs.

He’s an electronic musician from Cali who seems to specialize in what one could call glitch-hop. Where Baths really gets me, though, is in how smoove his electronics are — the fact of which is due to its deep roots in the chillwave movement.

I tend to find electronica jarring, grating, and impersonal; it rattles around my ears like trashcans in a metallic alley. But Baths strikes somewhere I never thought sounds made from a computer could. I’ve thought, and indeed to a large extent still do, music made with real instruments and musicians (and live, especially) is the stuff of the most soul. Soul, however, is not something his album Cerulean lacks.

The 12 track album was purportedly recorded in two months in his bedroom. It’s a beauty. Baths drops astronomical bass lines like they were too hot to handle, and yet they hum comfortably in and around the glitchy electrics. Accompanied by crooning falsettos singing catchyass melodies, Baths tends to layer in sound samples that some have called “unorthodox,” such as “clicking pens, vocal samples, rustling blankets and scissor snaps.” A perfect example is “Aminals” — note the purposeful misspelling — one of my favorite songs in which bits of dialogue from school children talking about animals are spliced up. (Listen around 2:02 into the video linked above for supercute kids mimicking aminals, and then 2:31 in for an expert, first-hand account of the relationship between elephants and giraffes.)

My roommate this year was a DJ, and he imparted upon me the importance of “the drop” — where it comes, and in what form. I am inclined to dub Baths the king of drops. Listen to “Indoorsy,” and experience the musical climax around 2:02 in. “Lovely Bloodflow,” too, has a bass that kicks just as much ass, with more grace. (Check out the cool visuals that accompany the above video.)

I just bought Baths’ second album, Pop Music/False B-Sides. I’m going to listen to it now. Until next time, World, pop on over to http://turntablr.com/, Pie Tonight Cheese’s new sister site where we post singular songs — as opposed to album reviews and other ramblings — for the general public’s perusing pleasure!

I’m back, and glad to have you here as well for the second installment of At the Newport, Part II: Papadosio! (Man, gotta love proper nouns and exclamation points.)

Just two nights after seeing Atmosphere, Grieves & Budo, and Blueprint for the beginning of The Family Tour, I stole/borrowed another friend’s car and sojourned back to Columbus’s Newport Music Hall to see Papadosio.

Papadosio is an electronic-infused jam-band  that’s been up-and-coming for a while now. The band is based out of Ohio, originally formed in Athens, and was ecstatic to be back in Columbus. The crowd was equally enthused — I went to the show solo, but met a nice hippy couple and had a beer with them before the music started.

Papadosio started with a local cult following, of which my new friends were an avid part of. “Five years ago,” Jerry-with-the-headband told me, gesturing towards the warm-up band Jahman Brahman, “Papadosio would be up there, opening instead of headlining. Now they’re playing festivals all over.” Jerry and his wife were from Ohio; they almost seemed like sad parents, reminiscing about Papadosio like they were their children sent off into the real world. “We see them whenever we can,” Marie said with a smile.

Indeed, Papadosio’s roots are strong, but its fan base extends far beyond Ohio’s borders — and for good reason. Now nearing the forefront of the electronica genre, Papadosio refuses to be confined to a singular definition. As the electronic music site TheUntz.com details, “Papadosio’s music is all about unexpected combinations. From Rock/House to Jazz/Hop to Dub/Breaks and so on, every song has a unique approach to attaining originality. Long improvisational interludes and vocal harmonies quickly set this group in a new category.” In fact, the closest I can come to pinning down Papadosio is provided by their 2008 EP (and my favorite album), By The Light of the Stars, which when it downloads to iTunes simply says “Psychedelic” under genre.

The band is currently comprised of Anthony on guitar, keys, vocals; Billy on keys and vocals; Mike on drums; Rob on bass, vocals; and Sam on keys and vocals. At the Newport, the band was joined for one jam — because somewhere around the fifteen-minute mark, it stops being a song — by a spritely “[hula] hoop dance artist” named Lindsay Nova, another Ohio resident. She, along with Jerry and Marie, is a perfect example of the wide swath of people Papadosio appeals to.

A friend and fellow music enthusiast, Chad Weisman, has seen Papadosio before. He distills them down to a “funk/improv feel of jam bands like Phish with a newer techno/electronic feel. This combination of past and present is where they get a lot of their strength from and where they resonate.” The band can fit many moods, from relaxed ‘n reclining jams to up ‘n at ‘em raves. As put most eloquently by Mr. Weisman, Papadosio is “funky as fuck.”

At the Newport, Papadosio played longer than I could stay… and boy did they play! I took some video of the concert, linked below, but unfortunately something went wrong: what are supposed to be double-digit length videos came out to be mere minutes. (My only guess is that somehow Macs can shrink time… damn you Steve Jobs!)

Once again, proseful words, no matter how purposefully written, can hardly handle what music holds. Nor does the video record what really went down. The lights, the sounds, the smells, the love… Papadosio continually transcends description. Feel it for yourself: http://eventful.com/performers/papadosio-/P0-001-000112513-8.

Musically, the band, led by the golden-voiced Robin Pecknold, takes its inspiration from folk rock groups of the 1960s/1970s such as CSNY and contemporary peers such as Grizzly Bear. By far one of the most distinctive elements of the band is their gorgeous vocal harmonies, giving songs such as the opener “Montezuma” an epic musical scope. It’s pure ear candy, and the band’s best instrument is by far the voice of Robin Pecknold. In the age of auto-tune and studio magic, Pecknold’s voice is a true gem. It has such a natural, pure tone, but never clouds the emotion behind the lyrics in overly pretty delivery. For the perfect contrast, listen to the tender crooning of the lovelorn “Someone You’d Admire” and then hear the angry crack of Pecknold’s voice as he belts during the climax of the 8-minute epic “The Shrine/An Argument” (a rare moment in which his voice becomes strikingly raw). 

However, Helplessness Blues carries musical pleasures in spades, not merely confined to the vocals. The album deals with a wide variety of instrumental approaches, including the chugging guitar lines and pounding piano of “Battery Kinzie” and the plaintive folk of “Bedouin Dress.” Fleet Foxes have a penchant for unexpected tempo and mood changes, as their songs will often begin with quiet acoustic moments and then erupt into lush, majestic full-band arrangements, as with “The Plains/Bitter Dancer” and the aforementioned “Shrine.” Above all else, Fleet Foxes make music that is simultaneously intimate and sweepingly epic. The album’s stirring closer “Grown Ocean” races along with driving guitar lines and beautiful vocal harmonies, while the instrumental “The Cascades” sounds like the medieval soundtrack to an epic about Camelot.

Beneath the album’s sonically beautiful textures, Pecknold’s lyrics carry a much weightier message. As its title might imply, Helplessness Blues deals in the themes of finding one’s purpose in life and confronting one’s own age and mortality. Pecknold sets the tone fairly quickly with the opening lines of “Montezuma,” singing “So now I am older / than my mother and father / when they had their daughter / now what does that say about me?” His mortality is clearly on his mind, and as much as he may fill his songs with mystical references to “old stone fountains” and personal dreamscapes, the album’s general mood is one of anxiety. As he sings on the gently rolling “Lorelai,” “So, guess I got old / I was like trash on the sidewalk.” Hardly a worry-free message. Yet, Pecknold never dips into the overkill melodrama of bands like Death Cab for Cutie (no offense meant to DCFC). He’s a musician who is strikingly aware of his own humanity and in turn, helps listeners reconnect with their own humanity as well.

For me, the album’s entire aesthetic and personal appeal can be summed up by the title track, an early contender for my favorite song of the year. In “Helplessness Blues,” Pecknold reflects on his youth and the problem of growing up “believing I was somehow unique.” As the song continues, he expresses his disillusionment with his preconceived notions about life and realizes that he may have to consign his life to serving some greater corporation where he would just be a “functioning cog.” I have always tried to write my posts on this blog from the perspective of a college student, whether it’s in supplying studying soundtracks or reflecting on party music. For my life as a sophomore in college this year, which included turning 20 last month, becoming an uncle, trying to figure out a potential career path, and finally realizing that I’m becoming a young adult, are there any more appropriate lyrics than “What’s my name, what’s my station / oh please tell me what I should do /…or bow down and be grateful / and say ‘sure, take all that you see’ / to the men who move only in dimly lit halls / and determine my future for me”? At the end of the day, for 20 year-olds like me, faced with an uncertain economic climate and the realization that we’re not teenagers anymore, do we actually know what we want to do with our lives? Should we follow through on those dreams we had when we were younger that may no longer be financially feasible? Or do we sacrifice those dreams and take a straighter, perhaps less spiritually fulfilling, path and become a corporate “functioning cog,” as Pecknold muses? The song’s first three minutes incorporate furious guitar strumming, reflecting the consternation and anxiety of the words. Then, the song effortlessly transitions into a dreamy, rolling breakdown with beautiful harmonies and soaring guitar. Pecknold reflects on a simpler existence, filled with working in his orchard and singing. It’s one of the best musical moments of the year in my opinion. Maybe these issues, when juxtaposed against everything else going on in the world, aren’t ultimately that significant, but this song, and album in general, have been speaking to me at a confusing and challenging juncture in my young adult life. This is an incredible album, one that a lot of people can relate to. Isn’t that the ultimate purpose of music – with all of its bells and whistles, to actually make you feel something, regardless of what that feeling might be? If that’s true, then Helplessness Blues is the work of some truly masterful musicians.

Enjoy the album’s three best tracks below. My words can’t do them justice. You have to hear it to experience it.

Helplessness Blues:

Montezuma:

Grown Ocean:

For this, I apologize. I’ve been distant, and I want to soothe the emotional scars with some minty-fresh reportage — it’s the balm, yo.

Recently, I saw two shows at Columbus’s Newport Music Hall. Similarly arranged to Boston’s House of Blues, but on a smaller-scale. The speakers were stacked and the ceiling’s gothic engravings spun with the shows.

The first show was a Rhymesayers fiesta, a tour called The Family Tour: Minnesota-based Atmosphere headlined; Budo and Grieves opened, along with Blueprint (who also opened for Macklemore at Kenyon College a month before). Oh, and on top of all this goodness, it just so happened to be on April 20th, a very special day… because my sister Zoe flew to Ohio to see the show with me! What’s more, m’dude Scotty came along, and we met two more Kenyonites there… yay friends!

Budo and Grieves were the first on stage. The duo are long time friends, not to mention amazing artists. Grieves raps and croons while Budo lays down the beats and plays the trumpet, guitar, and keyboard.

Grieves’s lyrics are typically atypical, as Rhymesayers rappers tend to be. In the song “Scar Gardens,” Grieves laments over lost love, singing, “Purple hearted scar garden harvesting my thoughts song / and, with the chalk gone, / the problem still exists. / At least the outline of its death prevents another fatal kiss.” He’s one of the best I know at rapping about the opposite sex since Snoop sang “We don’t love dem hoes.” Grieves’s best known song is “I Ate Your Soul,” and he TORE IT UP at the show. The song also provided Budo a chance to display his skills as an DJ. Listen to the song, but key-in on 2:54 … that is Budo.

Budo was actually the most impressive performer of the whole night, in my opinion. His unrestrained passion was violently refreshing. In the song “Gwenevieve,” he alternately tore electric licks into the guitar and screamed the refrain “Burn it down!” in an unbridled cry. Powerful stuff. I may or may not have teared up a little.

Blueprint was on next. I already talked about him in an article linked above, but I’ll add some brief commentary. Both when I saw him at Kenyon and at the Newport, Blueprint was the most down to Earth artist I’ve ever seen. Before and after shows, he is so personal with and receptive to his fans. Zoe got a picture with his ugly/goofy mug. On top of this, he gives every performance his all — visceral, full of grit and experimentation.

Finally, we got atmospheric. At the first show of their tour, promoting their new album The Family Sign, Atmosphere delivered a stirring performance through the smoke-clouded room to a weed-addled crowd.

The relentless rage; the unfeeling feeling; a cigarette burn scarring skin… Elation in relating over resentment; angry at ourselves and society; an empty glass just grinning to be filled… I know it’s cliche, but words really can’t capture the energy and emotions that Atmosphere draws from and injects doubly back into their music. Hearts swelled with the throbbing bass in “You,” limbs lurched with each line in “Puppets,” smiles widened with the landscape laid out in “Sunshine.” And those were just the old standbys.

Atmosphere played songs off of The Family Sign, as well. The album is darker than some of their others have been. Here’s some other commentary on the album as a whole:

The Family Sign is Atmosphere’s most personal and intimate album yet; it involves and engages the listener like never before.

[It] comes from a place well refined and firmly planted, from a universal perspective.

[It] is a tribute to their true extended family: their fans, their loved ones, and each other.

– http://www.rhymesayers.com/atmosphere/releases/

The concert was amazing. My sister had a good time. I bought a t-shirt. Couldn’t get any better.

I realize this blog doesn’t exactly specialize in rap or hip-hop; I also realize that all of my posts, even covering the band Why?, have been at least semi-hip-hop oriented. Which is why I’m happy to say that my next post, the second installment of At the Newport, will feature an electronic-infused jam-band called Papadosio that’s been up-and-coming for a while now. Look out for it, here, on PTC!

What follows is a review I wrote for the Kenyon Collegian of Macklemore & Ryan Lewis’s party… I mean performance at The Horn on March 23rd. (All photos by Jake Wayler)

Dust particles, caught in a spotlight momentarily, drifted hesitantly down from The Horn’s rafters this past Wednesday, as if questioning gravity. They never got a chance to settle on the floor: the combination of heat and hardwood bending under feet-bouncing beats stirred the status quo, leaving everyone elated and aloft.

In their first concert in a tour of the Midwest, Seattle-based hip-hop group Macklemore & Ryan Lewis took Kenyon by storm and soul this past Wednesday.

Opening for the headliners was Ohio-based rapper Blueprint. Signed to the Rhymesayers label, Blueprint is part of a faction in the hip-hop industry stressing lyrical consciousness and experimental instrumentals, alongside contemporaries such as Atmosphere, Brother Ali, Grieves, and P.O.S.

Blueprint’s performance was raw, in a style similar to Tyler the Creator, especially when he threw down “The Clouds.” Most of the songs were from his recent album, Adventures in Counter-Culture. His lyricism was witty and cocksure like Childish Gambino, but ranged to the the political in songs like “Hand-Me-Downs,” where Blueprint passionately lamented society’s general apathy: “Used to give us world news – now it’s all videos, / replaced Tavis Smiley with reality shows.” In the chorus, he cynically evokes James Brown’s black power anthem: “Come on say it loud / Look what we handed down / Don’t it make you proud? / Look what we handed down.”

Towards the end of his set, Blueprint released his inner rock star, breaking out the handheld keyboard and hammering out some hammer-ons. Said Leland Holcomb ’14, “Blueprint’s intensity fired me up for the wildness of Macklemore.”

And the rest is modern history.

Macklemore rapped, Ryan Lewis laid out tracks, and the duo was joined by trumpet player Owour Arunga. Arunga began the concert, wading and playing his way through the back of the crowd to the front of the stage. The sentiment was plain: we are here, for you, with you.

The live trumpet imbued the music with an intimacy further heightened by Macklemore’s sincerity. Indeed, sincerity seemed to be Macklemore’s modus operandi for the night. Between impassioned singing, cunning lyricism, stage antics, costume changes, and preaching a feel-good gospel, Macklemore put everything into the performance.

Macklemore is proud of his heritage, Irish, and his hometown, Seattle. In his last song of the night, “Irish Celebration,” he lionized his heritage, singing, “In the night sky we fly it / In pride for the life we fight to live / History, I write with it / Spit it with the dialect / And this is a celebration of course / The green, white, orange.”

In “The Town,” Macklemore spoke on Seattle’s rich hip-hop scene, referencing numerous artists and influences from the area: “This is our scene, our music, our movement, the history lives through us.”

Carl Crow ’14 is from Seattle. He saw Mackelmore there at a sold-out show over spring break. He compared the hometown show to Kenyon’s, “In Seattle there were 700 people, but the concerts were the same in terms of energy. The Horn had better intimacy.” The personal nature of the show was a selling point for many. “I got a fist bump,” said Carl with a grin.

O’Neill Cushman ’11 recalled a show his freshman year in which students got on stage with rapper Wale, and Wale reacted angrily, telling them to “get off my stage.” (Wale’s still kinda tight.) Macklemore didn’t mind the people surging towards him; rather, he fed off of it. When it seemed the crowd would swallow him whole, Macklemore rose above to a whole other level.

“He was in the rafters, we were on the stage… It was by far the best show I’ve seen at the Horn,” said Elise Economy ’14.

“His stage presence was so energizing,” said Rehan Bhatti ’14. “By the end it just became a dance party.” Which is exactly what Macklemore wanted.

During the concert he also commented on Kenyon’s energy, and how it was one of the best show’s he’s played. Indeed, only one song into the concert, Macklemore had to take off his jacket. Sweat permeated his white tank top, a testament to his effort. He wasn’t done changing outfits for the night, though.

During one of his addresses to the crowd, Macklemore conjured up the image of David Bowie as Jareth, the Goblin King from the film Labyrinth. He proceeded to dawn a denim jacket, with a stud-encrusted mural of Bowie’s beautiful visage and tassels hanging along the arms. Straight stylin.

Macklemore got on his soapbox – or, rather, speaker monitor – before beginning his last set.  He spoke about good and evil, about the heart and the ego. Speaking from his own heart, Macklemore testified to the inhibitory nature of the ego, how it gets in the way of a good time. He asked the crowd to choose heart over ego, to make the night a party and “just dance.”

Then Macklemore did the inconceivable. Yes, that’s right… he brought David Bowie to Kenyon! The English pop-rock legend himself, flown in all the way from London, England. Ziggy fucking Stardust!

Ducking behind a table, Macklemore resurfaced in a 80s-style blonde wig, a gold headband, and a bejewled black cloak. His attitude was contagious, the crowd was liberated from all inhibitions, And We Danced.

It was the perfect way to end the night.

So far, this reporter has only heard two voices of dissent about the concert. The first came from Kenny Loggins ’13, who didn’t even attend the show: “Macklemore? More like Mackle-less…”

The second came from Lily Bullit ‘13 who said “The only disappointment was that he didn’t take off his shirt.”

And don’t worry, PTC will always come first in my heart. Just wait until after exams, this site is going to spring back to life.

Here’s a live version of this post’s namesake Springsteen song:
Drop On Down and Cover Me, Bruce Springsteen

Even though I was in the front row and Sam’s setlist was right on the cusp of my vision, I can’t remember the exact order of the songs played. I have a pretty decent idea of what they were though, so its better than nothing. Here’s my best guess- if anybody remembers better please comment and let me know.

Iron and Wine, 4/16/11 Mass MoCA, North Adams, MA
(Setlist tentative)
Boy With A Coin
Freedom Hangs like Heaven
Summer in Savannah
Walking Far From Home
My Lady’s House
Wolves (Song of the Shepherd’s Dog)
Big Burned Hand
Half Moon
Lions Mane
House By The Sea
Tree By The River
God Made the Automobile
Love And Some Verses
Rabbit Will Run
E: Flightless Bird, American Mouth (Acapella)

First off, The Low Anthem were great. They’ve pretty close to perfected their delicate, beautiful compositions, underscoring their elegant lyrics with ephemeral organs, sustained clarinets, finger-picked guitars and alternative instruments like singing saws and bowed banjos. Their performance had an endearing folksiness to it, with the quartet performing several songs gathered around a single microphone and band members swapping instruments between each song. They ended the set with one of the most fasicnating and gorgeous bits of crowd participation I’ve ever heard, asking audience members to pull out their cell phones at the end of “This God Damn House,” call the person they went to the concert with (which disqualified solo attendees like me), put both phones on speaker and position them next to each other. This creates a feedback loop that produces a whirring, almost cricket-like drone that sounded otherworldly with so many people together. Ben Knox Miller even joined in himself, grabbing bandmate Jeff Prytkosky’s phone and whistling into both of them to manipulate the pitch of the humming. Grab a friend and try out the phone thing for yourself, then make your friend come with you to see The Low Anthem.  Check out an awesome video (including the speakerphone outro) below.

The headliners started their set after the Rhode Islanders hauled their quirky gear off and the stage was prepared for Iron and Wine’s 10-piece ensemble, which included a 3-piece horn section, extra percussionist, female backup singer, as well as a standard bass, drum, guitar and keyboard lineup behind Mr. Beam. The set started off on a shaky note, with Sam accidentally dropping his walnut Gibson SG and needing to take a minute to retune it. However, this initial awkwardness was soon forgiven when Beam led the band into an amazing, blown out “Boy With a Coin.” If you aren’t familiar with the difference between I&W’s acoustic side and the full band incarnation, here’s a video that shows the layered, polyrhythmic elements of their live show:

The next highlight of the set (if I have my order right (doubtful.)) was “Walking Far From Home,” which has a looming electronic drone on the album but came off more traditional and simpler live, with the synths not coming in until the end. This song exemplified Sam’s knack for catchy vocal melodies that he showed off all evening.

After a gorgeous version of “My Lady’s House,” a standout from 2005′s Woman King EP, the band launched into the deliciously percussive “Wolves (Song of the Shepherd’s Dog).” For this performance the band traded in the layered, bass-driven funk from the album for an extended and hyper-spacey free-jazz jam, teasing the audience with chorus after chorus of guitar-string scratching and wahwah’d out banjo riffs. Stream the album cut below, and just imagine something twice as exploratory and inventive.

My favorite moment of the night was the unique presentation of “Lion’s Mane,” the opening track from one of my favorite albums of all time, 2002′s “Creek Drank The Cradle.” While the album cut is low-fi and acoustic like the rest of Iron and Wine’s early catalog, the live arrangement featured a simple, steady drum beat and bright, optimistic horn blasts over pretty banjo picking. It was sunny and lovely, reflecting the lyrics beautifully. I was just beaming in the front row, I’m sure Sam saw me smile. I wish there was a higher quality video to show the arrangement, but this will do. He also played it slightly differently at MoCA, with a stronger drum presence.

The set ended with uptempo, rocked out versions of two of his most melodic songs, “God Made the Automobile” and “Love and Some Verses.” On these songs the band went for a guitar heavy, early-sixties rock sound, recalling the first few Beatles albums. The energy brought out the melodies of the songs, but I don’t think they were as affective (or effective for that matter) than the acoustic versions. These songs are beautiful for their simplicity, and the superfluous decoration of a ten-piece band overshadows their power.

For the encore Sam came out solo, as he usually does, and seemed like he was going to take a request. There was a near consensus for “The Trapeze Swinger,” but he ignored the calls (he probably didn’t feel up to tackling all seven minutes) and kicked into his acapella version of “Flightless Bird, American Mouth.” It was chilling and gorgeous, with fingering the chord shapes on his guitar to keep his mind straight. As if the rest of the evening wasn’t proof enough, this closing moment further emphasized the melodic genius of Sam Beam. This recording is almost identical to how he performed it in North Adams:

Of all the shows I’ve been to, I’ve never been to a venue that rewarded me so much for arriving early as Mass MoCA. I pulled into the lot with three hours to spare, spent the first two wandering the galleries (which were pretty amazing but far too artsy for me to try to write about), then I hopped in line an hour before showtime, securing a spot right on the stage. The hall was spacious and sounded good, and best of all (for me) there was no photo pit, so the front row had unrestricted access to the front of the stage. It made for an intimate exchange between the band and front row, with crowd members occasionally conversing with Sam in at a natural volume, and a few times I found myself catching eye contact with the drummer, locking into his pulsing jazz patterns. Basically I had an awesome time start to finish, and I’d suggest catching Iron and Wine or The Low Anthem live as well as visiting Mass MoCA, for a concert or even just for fun.

So this is my first blog post, so I hope everyone enjoys it. I don’t know how many of you have heard of Barefoot Truth, but they’re an up-and-coming folk-rock band that can be compared to Dispatch in a lot of ways. Before you scoff at another one of those bands trying to be the next Dispatch, Barefoot Truth expands upon that catchy lyrically driven style that made Dispatch famous. Originally an acoustic duo, Barefoot Truth has expanded into a quintet with guitar, keyboard, bass, harmonica, and various percussion instruments including drum kit, djembe, and bongos. They bring various other world music elements into their music including didgeridoo. Their first two albums Changes in the Weather (2006) and Club House Sessions (2006) are more similar to the acoustic rock many Dispatch fans are used to. However, one of the attributes of their music that really sets them apart from the rest of the bands following in Dispatch’s footsteps is the jazz style that they bring into many of their more recent songs as a quintet. Their two newest studio albums Walk Softly (2007) and Threads (2010) contain some of these jazzier elements. On the Walk Softly album, I would recommend checking out the songs Walk Softly and Mama’s Minstrel. On the Threads album I would recommend checking out the song Threads. All of these songs exemplify the fusion of folk-rock jazz-fusion style that sets Barefoot Truth apart from other bands of this genre.

Two summers ago they toured with Pete Francis of Dispatch and released a collaborative EP containing both originals from Barefoot Truth and Pete Francis, Wake the Mountain (2009). They are still touring and have just released a live album, Live at Higher Ground (2011). Their music is available on itunes, and you can also listen to their music and check them out on their website.

Walk Softly, Barefoot Truth