Under the radar
Theo Angell’s album, “Auraplinth,” is a revelation
The musician/filmmaker Theo Angell is an Oregonian who has been living and working under the Lower East Side radar for more than a decade now and recalls how eccentric it used to be. “My old landlord was a cantor and he had an entire apartment floor filled with live roosters.” Nobody was quite sure why. The rest of the building was mostly empty and Angell could crank up his music as loud as he wanted with no reprisal from the neighborhood junkies. Back in the late 90s, when he was paying his rent by waiting tables at Mortimer’s uptown for the likes of Henry Kissinger and Nancy Reagan, Angell’s first band, Hall of Fame, was playing what he called “apartment rock,” which were gigs in downtown lofts. There could be “noise” bands one night and James Murphy - pre-LCD Soundsytem -spinning records the next.
Although he has since branched out on his own, Angell still embodies the eclectic spirit associated with the downtown neighborhood. From recording in his old apartment on Ridge St. with a choir (The Tabernacle Hillside Singers) to screening his “mobile projections” on the sides of Manhattan buildings (including a guerilla showing on the facade of the Guggenheim on Fifth Avenue, alarming the NYPD when he inadvertently left behind an amp on the sidewalk), he has maintained a hand-crafted ethic that has driven him to create one of the most beautifully atmospheric, shape-shiftingly original records in recent memory: “Auraplinth.”
To the uninitiated, there are hints of different influences in Theo Angell’s music: bluegrass legend Bill Monroe, the Italian field recordings of Alan Lomax, Syd-Barrett-era Pink Floyd, Dino Valente, Desmond Dekker, The Velvet Underground, and Moondog. But the way that Angell has crafted this record almost single-handedly, during a two-week whirlwind of improvisational “chanting and jamming,” has yielded unclassifiable and weighty results. It is not classifiably folk, bluegrass, or psychedelic, yet it conjures up dynamic elements of each of those styles. The acoustic guitar treatments and the swirling waves of vocal experimentation create a delirious and cinematic effect that ranges from minimal to kaleidoscopic. The music sounds like hallucinogenic campfire songs with a UFO hovering above the tree line. There are both crawling dirges and scampering ditties here.
Angell claims to have recorded “Auraplinth” during “a heartbroken period of time” (the album cover depicts a “Victorian death mask” of Angell himself). While there are moments of lightness, there are also plenty of shadows and turbulent waters to navigate here. The song “Aurelia” is based on the autobiography of Nerval, who hanged himself in 1855, and features the kind of minor chord acoustic intro one might expect from an Alice In Chains song. On the other hand, the record also includes love letters to the birds and trees.
Growing up on five acres of landscaped church farm property in Oregon, Angell was only exposed to pop music by snippets from passing cars, bus drivers or when playing “black pirates.” That was the name he and his home-schooled siblings had for sneaking around the stringent moral code of their minister father by, for instance, smuggling in tapes from the outside world. What he did get to hear plenty of was hymns and choir voices in his father’s church, where all of the children were expected to sing. His brother, James Angell, a talented singer/songwriter, acquired his piano chops playing Bach in that same church.
Since they didn’t have the standard rock influences to direct their evolution and as they grew older they were able to pursue unusual paths. Theo was compelled by odd sounds like the vibrating drone of the motorcycle he rode around Oregon. Later he discovered Jimi Hendrix and knew it was time to move on. He taught himself the guitar and banjo once he left home and the church, and after moving to New York City in 1993, began to really push his artistic boundaries. He wrote an as of yet unpublished novel, made films and formed Hall of Fame. His recent short films, about the morphing of nature, are powerfully abstract and worthy of being featured in a gallery.
Compared to his first solo record, “Dearly Beloved,” which was old American roots-based, “Auraplinth” (Digitalis) has truly invented its own language. Half of the album was improvised during recording sessions in Portland and much of that was “Glossalia” vocals, which is like an old Anglo version of jazz scatting or gibberish set to music. Some of the songs on the album have very clear lyrics like “Have You Seen The Birds Lately?” and “Stuttgart Summertime” and others, such as “Bountfling” and “Flurdrid Mourning,” are lyrically indecipherable. Bearing a passing resemblance to Daniel Day-Lewis with a serious beard and long hair, Angell works as a carpenter and rides a bicycle around Manhattan and both activities seem to inspire his creative process. The drone of peddling through a teeming city has seeped into his music and so has some of the repetition of working with paintbrushes and hammer and nail.
The album was recorded in both a basement and an attic; the songs reflect the quilt-like sense of each being different rooms unto themselves. He weaves together tasty guitar tracks, alternating between a late night spoken-word grumble and a high-end “crying voice.” Some might try to hang the “freak folk” tag on him (think Devendra Banhart and friends) but he doesn’t consider himself a part of what he refers to as the “Elfsploitation movement.”
Instead of paying overt homage to his influences, Theo Angell’s music is less genre-specific and whimsical. Although he admits to having the occasional elfin moment himself, his music possesses more substance and is unpredictable. The name “Auraplinth” is a word, according to Angell, that means “combining the ether with a foundation” and sums up well the anchored yet spectral grooves that this record delivers in spades. The overall sound feels effortless and true and invokes a resonating world with every song.
Published in The Villager
February 2008
Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
RADIOHEAD}}}}} In Rainbows
Radiohead: In Rainbows
It’s ancient history at this point that Radiohead released their first new record in four years with a pay-what-you-want download on their website, months in advance of a standard release. While fans rejoiced and scooped up the “free” record, the music industry shuddered and Gene Simmons of Kiss asked, “Are they on crack?” But we might have hurried past the real story: In Rainbows is the most cohesive and sensual album the band has ever made, and one that allows every member to shine in a way that seems almost effortless. While economists and music industry experts debate the revolutionary impact of a platinum band leaking their own record for what amounts to hefty gratuities, the rest of us can marvel at this collection of songs from a veteran group at the height of its abilities. Whether or not the record’s confident, relaxed quality sprang from the opportunity to finally create without any label interference, In Rainbows is a shifting of gears from the dread and defiance of Hail to the Thief to a sound that is both dreamy and propulsive. It’s the finest record of 2007 at any price.
Hurtling along a terrain of dizzy rhythms, the album’s opener “15 Step” whirls out of the gate with drum and bass–like beats and Thom Yorke’s undulating vocals:
How come I end up where I started
How come I end up where I went wrong?
Won’t take my eyes off the ball again
You reel me out then you cut the string
A jazzy guitar progression mellows out the upper layer, while the frenetic pace of the rhythm section carries on below. “Bodysnatchers” follows, a surging tune with taut drums and dense, driving guitar chords that has Yorke bellowing, “I have got no idea / What / You are talking about / I’m trapped inside this body / And I can’t / Get out!” The faster and louder songs on In Rainbows find Yorke passionate but less feisty than on Hail to the Thief. There is a seasoned coolness to the record’s first single, “Jigsaw Falling Into Place,” a cautionary sexual tale of trolling around the urban nightlife landscape while not in control of one’s faculties. While the song skips along to a coiled, infectious beat, Yorke, aware of his prodigious talents, lies back and rises up to hit his mark only when he needs to.
The spirited opening tunes notwithstanding, In Rainbows is Radiohead’s least angry record to date. It is no straightforward production and not exactly jovial, but it is a stunning collection of songs through and through. The lyrics are sometimes cryptic yet always evocative, and Yorke’s voice is as amazing as it’s ever been. His lilting falsetto and soulful crooning is spine-tingling on songs like the Portishead-esque “Nude.” On “Reckoner” he sings:
Because we separate
Like ripples on a blank shore (in rainbows)
With multiple wrenching vocal tracks layered upon each other, the jaunty yet wistful gospel track evokes Antony and the Johnsons. (Yorke told BBC radio that “Reckoner” is the center of the album, with the other tracks flowing to and away from it.)
With six previous records and a dozen or more quality B-sides under their belts, Radiohead has settled into a groove that is a deft amalgamation of their various shades of experimental music, and encompasses aggressive rock songs, hypnotic mid-tempo tunes, and oddly timed ballads. In Rainbows is colored with an atmosphere that may have seeped into the music from the dilapidated house in Oxford that the band recorded some of it in. Yorke told BBC radio that they wanted to make a more “direct” and “energetic” record, and that the band really wanted his voice out in front again as it was on his 2006 solo effort, The Eraser. They were also urged by producer Nigel Godrich to drastically narrow down the number of songs they usually bring into the studio (there were dozens during the Kid A and Amnesiac sessions) and concentrate their energy on those. That narrowed focus has clearly paid off.
Radiohead has the uncanny ability to take chilling (some would say gloomy) themes and transform them into albums that are hauntingly beautiful. This is largely due to the band’s democratic approach to collaboration, gently led by Yorke and Jonny Greenwood. The members of Radiohead have been friends since they were teenagers, and their faith in one another seems evident. Despite possessing significant chops, Greenwood is willing to put his guitar aside at times in order to navigate various electronic gadgets or play the keyboards while Yorke and Ed O’Brien handle guitar duties. There are songs in which the mighty rhythm section of Colin Greenwood and Phil Selway simply step outside for a cup of tea while the machines take over. And yet this is a band that has been gigging and recording for over twenty years now. Nobody’s face is on the album covers and nobody (including cutting-edge producer Godrich and visual collaborator Stanley Donwood) seems overly concerned with taking credit.
Thom Yorke drives the process with singular vocal style, a unique creative vision, and a determination to operate with integrity. Jonny Greenwood’s inventive guitar riffing and instinct for electronic sound provide further fuel to the fire. Both Yorke and Greenwood have produced solo projects in the last few years, and perhaps the result is less of a need to squeeze all of their ideas into a Radiohead album. Yorke released The Eraser between recording sessions for In Rainbows. An electronic album featuring Yorke’s singing over clipped and fuzzy beats, the record was a finalist for the Mercury Prize. In 2003 Greenwood scored the documentary Bodysong; he has since “curated” a reggae compilation called Jonny Greenwood Is the Controller and composed the score for the new P. T. Anderson film, Their Will Be Blood. These additional outlets for sound experimentation could be one of the reasons there is more space on In Rainbows, which exhibits more fluidity than any previous record. Their other albums swerved into oblique corners, leaving traditional rock structures behind while they stirred up ominous and ethereal pieces of music rather than actual songs. In contrast, every track on In Rainbows is a song in the traditional sense, regardless of its atypical structure or oddly timed beats.
That Radiohead are still the most dynamic live band around is impressive. Many bands lose their steam without the aid of studio effects, but Radiohead strides with even more intensity on stage. Radiohead concerts are moving and explosive, and with dozens of hook-filled songs to pull from, you will never hear the same set twice. The band’s tours sell out immediately regardless of venue size or album sales. The anticipation of them stepping on to the stage is palpable in the crowd; there’s a jet-plane roar when the first chords ring out from the band.
Radiohead’s OK Computer show in Los Angeles was the most thrilling gig I’d ever seen until I took the ferry over to Liberty State Park for the Amnesiac tour in August 2001, weeks before 9/11. The stage was erected on New Jersey landfill with an audience view of the harbor, the city’s bridges, and the Manhattan skyline at night. The shimmering Twin Towers rose up behind the stage as Radiohead tore through a set of big, electronic rock and roll that was utterly breathtaking.
The most uncompromisingly innovative studio and live band of their generation, Radiohead have a healthy distrust of the system. Any system. So it comes as little surprise that they would throw a wrench in the music-industry works by releasing In Rainbows directly to their fans. The band’s fear and loathing of corrupt powers and bullies with credentials is well documented—their previous album was entitled Hail to the Thief, after all. But despite all that, there is something decidedly graceful and refined about the new record.
In Rainbows could describe that striking but elusive thing that is impossible to capture and is magical every time it’s spied on the horizon. Of course, it could also be the kind of oily rainbow you find in Brooklyn’s Newtown Creek—pretty to look at but sinister in nature. Either way, it’s as potent as anything we have heard from Radiohead. Deftly produced, textured with layers of tasty guitar, and highlighting the strongest vocals in rock and roll, it is further evidence that there isn’t a more compelling band at work today.
-Published in The Brooklyn Rail
January 2008
It’s ancient history at this point that Radiohead released their first new record in four years with a pay-what-you-want download on their website, months in advance of a standard release. While fans rejoiced and scooped up the “free” record, the music industry shuddered and Gene Simmons of Kiss asked, “Are they on crack?” But we might have hurried past the real story: In Rainbows is the most cohesive and sensual album the band has ever made, and one that allows every member to shine in a way that seems almost effortless. While economists and music industry experts debate the revolutionary impact of a platinum band leaking their own record for what amounts to hefty gratuities, the rest of us can marvel at this collection of songs from a veteran group at the height of its abilities. Whether or not the record’s confident, relaxed quality sprang from the opportunity to finally create without any label interference, In Rainbows is a shifting of gears from the dread and defiance of Hail to the Thief to a sound that is both dreamy and propulsive. It’s the finest record of 2007 at any price.
Hurtling along a terrain of dizzy rhythms, the album’s opener “15 Step” whirls out of the gate with drum and bass–like beats and Thom Yorke’s undulating vocals:
How come I end up where I started
How come I end up where I went wrong?
Won’t take my eyes off the ball again
You reel me out then you cut the string
A jazzy guitar progression mellows out the upper layer, while the frenetic pace of the rhythm section carries on below. “Bodysnatchers” follows, a surging tune with taut drums and dense, driving guitar chords that has Yorke bellowing, “I have got no idea / What / You are talking about / I’m trapped inside this body / And I can’t / Get out!” The faster and louder songs on In Rainbows find Yorke passionate but less feisty than on Hail to the Thief. There is a seasoned coolness to the record’s first single, “Jigsaw Falling Into Place,” a cautionary sexual tale of trolling around the urban nightlife landscape while not in control of one’s faculties. While the song skips along to a coiled, infectious beat, Yorke, aware of his prodigious talents, lies back and rises up to hit his mark only when he needs to.
The spirited opening tunes notwithstanding, In Rainbows is Radiohead’s least angry record to date. It is no straightforward production and not exactly jovial, but it is a stunning collection of songs through and through. The lyrics are sometimes cryptic yet always evocative, and Yorke’s voice is as amazing as it’s ever been. His lilting falsetto and soulful crooning is spine-tingling on songs like the Portishead-esque “Nude.” On “Reckoner” he sings:
Because we separate
Like ripples on a blank shore (in rainbows)
With multiple wrenching vocal tracks layered upon each other, the jaunty yet wistful gospel track evokes Antony and the Johnsons. (Yorke told BBC radio that “Reckoner” is the center of the album, with the other tracks flowing to and away from it.)
With six previous records and a dozen or more quality B-sides under their belts, Radiohead has settled into a groove that is a deft amalgamation of their various shades of experimental music, and encompasses aggressive rock songs, hypnotic mid-tempo tunes, and oddly timed ballads. In Rainbows is colored with an atmosphere that may have seeped into the music from the dilapidated house in Oxford that the band recorded some of it in. Yorke told BBC radio that they wanted to make a more “direct” and “energetic” record, and that the band really wanted his voice out in front again as it was on his 2006 solo effort, The Eraser. They were also urged by producer Nigel Godrich to drastically narrow down the number of songs they usually bring into the studio (there were dozens during the Kid A and Amnesiac sessions) and concentrate their energy on those. That narrowed focus has clearly paid off.
Radiohead has the uncanny ability to take chilling (some would say gloomy) themes and transform them into albums that are hauntingly beautiful. This is largely due to the band’s democratic approach to collaboration, gently led by Yorke and Jonny Greenwood. The members of Radiohead have been friends since they were teenagers, and their faith in one another seems evident. Despite possessing significant chops, Greenwood is willing to put his guitar aside at times in order to navigate various electronic gadgets or play the keyboards while Yorke and Ed O’Brien handle guitar duties. There are songs in which the mighty rhythm section of Colin Greenwood and Phil Selway simply step outside for a cup of tea while the machines take over. And yet this is a band that has been gigging and recording for over twenty years now. Nobody’s face is on the album covers and nobody (including cutting-edge producer Godrich and visual collaborator Stanley Donwood) seems overly concerned with taking credit.
Thom Yorke drives the process with singular vocal style, a unique creative vision, and a determination to operate with integrity. Jonny Greenwood’s inventive guitar riffing and instinct for electronic sound provide further fuel to the fire. Both Yorke and Greenwood have produced solo projects in the last few years, and perhaps the result is less of a need to squeeze all of their ideas into a Radiohead album. Yorke released The Eraser between recording sessions for In Rainbows. An electronic album featuring Yorke’s singing over clipped and fuzzy beats, the record was a finalist for the Mercury Prize. In 2003 Greenwood scored the documentary Bodysong; he has since “curated” a reggae compilation called Jonny Greenwood Is the Controller and composed the score for the new P. T. Anderson film, Their Will Be Blood. These additional outlets for sound experimentation could be one of the reasons there is more space on In Rainbows, which exhibits more fluidity than any previous record. Their other albums swerved into oblique corners, leaving traditional rock structures behind while they stirred up ominous and ethereal pieces of music rather than actual songs. In contrast, every track on In Rainbows is a song in the traditional sense, regardless of its atypical structure or oddly timed beats.
That Radiohead are still the most dynamic live band around is impressive. Many bands lose their steam without the aid of studio effects, but Radiohead strides with even more intensity on stage. Radiohead concerts are moving and explosive, and with dozens of hook-filled songs to pull from, you will never hear the same set twice. The band’s tours sell out immediately regardless of venue size or album sales. The anticipation of them stepping on to the stage is palpable in the crowd; there’s a jet-plane roar when the first chords ring out from the band.
Radiohead’s OK Computer show in Los Angeles was the most thrilling gig I’d ever seen until I took the ferry over to Liberty State Park for the Amnesiac tour in August 2001, weeks before 9/11. The stage was erected on New Jersey landfill with an audience view of the harbor, the city’s bridges, and the Manhattan skyline at night. The shimmering Twin Towers rose up behind the stage as Radiohead tore through a set of big, electronic rock and roll that was utterly breathtaking.
The most uncompromisingly innovative studio and live band of their generation, Radiohead have a healthy distrust of the system. Any system. So it comes as little surprise that they would throw a wrench in the music-industry works by releasing In Rainbows directly to their fans. The band’s fear and loathing of corrupt powers and bullies with credentials is well documented—their previous album was entitled Hail to the Thief, after all. But despite all that, there is something decidedly graceful and refined about the new record.
In Rainbows could describe that striking but elusive thing that is impossible to capture and is magical every time it’s spied on the horizon. Of course, it could also be the kind of oily rainbow you find in Brooklyn’s Newtown Creek—pretty to look at but sinister in nature. Either way, it’s as potent as anything we have heard from Radiohead. Deftly produced, textured with layers of tasty guitar, and highlighting the strongest vocals in rock and roll, it is further evidence that there isn’t a more compelling band at work today.
-Published in The Brooklyn Rail
January 2008
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Them Crooked Vultures
Looks like "Supergroups" don't have to be super boring after all. When John Paul Jones and Dave Grohl linked up to form a rhythm section, it turned out to be exactly what you'd hoped to get from equal parts Led Zeppelin and Nirvana. Loud and bad ass funky. With the vastly underrated Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age on vocals and guitar they created such a beautiful racket that Roseland was systematically shrunken to the size of your stoner rec-room. It was gravy and candy for lovers of hard, classic grooves and thunder-clappin' power chords. Despite no album to stump for as of yet, this show sold out in minutes and the crowd was primed. Dave Grohl, back behind the drum kit where he is a straight up Warlock pounded the crowd into submission. John Paul Jones on bass and keys, grinned all evening like he thought he'd won the audition. You know the audition where Grohl is pretending he's in the reunited, touring Zeppelin because Jason Bonham had other things to do? He didn't hurt his chances here let me tell you. Josh Homme demonstrating that he alone is willing to carry the classic guitar God mantle until somebody more interesting steps up to claim it. Which is doubtful. The man is a sick guitarist. You think it's an accident that JPJ and Grohl formed a band with this guy? Frankly, he was their leader all night and they provided his formidable backing thunder. But the songs were his it seems and they all looked happy about it. With QOTSA touring guitarist Alain Johannes filling in the rest of the sound it was a concert to remember and if you were there you are gearing up to hear the album whenever it arrives.
Them Crooked Vultures are for real.
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