To focus is to settle. To arrange experience into molecular parts, packable, like boxes arranged in a closet. To focus is to let go. To release arbitrary details and clip onto a steady perch, in tune with the unshakeable light at the end of an unbreakable tunnel.
Unsure what the hell I’m talking about? Let music be your guide. Listen to Cautious Clay, who deftly points out that it’s, “matter over mind if we’re being honest.”
And of course there’s Bonobo, whose new remix personifies the hair raising moment of awareness, the tactile sensation of zeroing in on a target.
The last four seats in The Greek were to the far left of the stage, fifty yards up past the pit. After a quick-spot, we climbed the amphitheater stairs, shuffled past a couple dressed in all-black, and staked our claim. Below, a seething crowd suddenly came to life, incensed by the feral, weaving drumbeat of Glass Animals’ opener, Life Itself.
We quickly established good community relations with our neighbors, offering what little supplies we had – a green tea bottle with clear tequila, two limes and a pinch of the devil’s lettuce. In return we received cigarettes and more space, a rare commodity that night.
All of us were eager for a familiar groove that would validate our ticket expense, a reenactment of countless private interactions. But that night the unexpected ruled, most notably, Cane Suga, an outburst of boot-stomping trap that liquefied body parts and set in motion a series of amphitheater antics.
Link in bio. Three words from Jamie XX that require an immediate detour in whatever you’re doing.
Last month The Boiler Room released a recording of Jamie XX’s live set in Reykjavik. There’s the usual vaudeville attraction of watching unfamiliar people bump up against each other but compared to other Boiler Room’s (see Kaytranada’s production), it felt sweetly tame.
Except for about seven minutes when Jamie XX spins his remix of the XX’s On Hold. This morning he released the studio version, not on Spotify or Soundcloud, but on YouTube, because this experience is as much about the visuals as it is about the snaking bass.
We’re known for being a bit long winded in our write ups of live shows. To give us an unfiltered, top line breakdown of the Sylvan Esso show at Lagunitas Brewery, we turned to one of our musical correspondents, QuarterLifeCrisis, to give us his thoughts.
First day of school year
No plan, left two behind
Pre food beers
Tiny venue w no stage
Local vibe/ split audience
Asian girl culk shirt possibly rolling
Drunk in and out puke
A lot of knob twisting outta that guy, she’s got a killer voice
Are they in love
Scratch the surface of Francis Lung’s A Selfish Man and you’ll find a clear message. A directive unearthed from his past: the decision to leave his band, WU LYF, and go solo.
Whirling guitars and fuzzy synths create a merry-go-round of echo and delay peddles. It’s dreamy and upbeat, but like his shoe gaze counterpart, Wild Nothing, a smoldering emotionality pierces through, and Francis Lung confronts the unknown.
They say you can’t come back
S’why I never left
They say you can’t come back
Babe that’s why I never left
As legend tells it, Kim Jung Mi was a quiet student in the early 1970s when renowned songwriter, composer, producer, and South Korean legend Shin Joong Hyun brought her on to sing on Now. Kim, Shin, and their backing group taped a 10 song record together, with Haenim as the opening track.
The result was a soft psychedelic folk number that’s simple and warm. Listening to Haenim, I imagine it may stand out more now, in an era of Chainsmokers and Ed Sheeran, than it ever did amidst the release of The Rolling Stone’s Angie and The Allman Brother’s Ramblin’ Man.