Dude, I love “Linger.” Don’t give a fuck.

I am completely in love, perhaps an agape love, with the new song Broadcast has been ending all their shows with on the current tour. You know the one I’m talking about… the one with Trish Keenan shredding on a customized electric dulcimer. Like, total “My Dear Companion” meets “Astronomy Domine” meets “Autobahn” meets “Fight For Your Right (To Party)” action. Ya know, the krautrock hoedown. With the help of Pretty Creatures‘ warm analog tape bootleg of the show (you can download it here), I grabbed the finale, cleaned it up a bit (with just a couple of compressors, filters, and a peak limiter – no manipulation of the actual sound), and am providing it below for maximum damage (you can grab the cleaned-up-a-bit version here). No one knows the actual name of this song yet, so I’mma call it “Dulcimer Jam.” Because it features an amplified dulcimer. And it’s a jam.

MP3 :::
Broadcast – Dulcimer Jam [Wexner Center, Columbus, 10.25.09]

I believe that, technically, Atlas Sound is the headliner, but I’m treating this show as if Broadcast was. I love both artists, obviously. However, Bradford Cox, to quote The Spirit of Truth, makes his “ass very available,” whereas Broadcast hasn’t been around in a minute. So for me finally seeing Broadcast, after being a huge fan for six or seven years, is quite huge. They were also the primary motivation for making the three hour trek up I-71. I’m pleased to report that the goods were thoroughly delivered.

Opening was The Selmanaires from Atlanta. They were rad. Think of Gang Gang Dance. Now imagine a non-shitty version of Gang Gang Dance. That’s The Selmanaires. The majority of the set consisted of ambient layers by way of their Mini Korg, which eventually ascended into Mercury Rev-style ornate pop with pervasive, intricate rhythms and nasty low end. Oh, and djembes everywhere. While The Selmanaires were fairly cosmic, they do indeed like the nightlife and/or like to boogie.

One thing I really dug about the Wexner, besides being a nice college facility, was the total absence of fucking around. There was virtually no changeover time. After The Selmanaires finished up their 40-or-so minute set, the crew wheeled out the screen and flipped on the projector. The title card illuminated the screen – Winter Sun Wavelengths. And in the upper left hand corner was the Ghost Box logo, which pretty much guarantees that you’re about to see some shit. Some shit is also known as brain burning hauntological visuals from Julian House’s celestial brain.

So the Broadcast show takes a big fat page from the Wizard of Oz. Actually, spooky technicolor performance piece is a more accurate description, but for the sake of brevity, I’ll keep referring to it as “show.” Anyway, the “show” was divided, as suggested, into two segments. The first was a 20-minute, highly structured dissonant noise jam set to high contrast black-and-white visuals of opitcal illusions, eye exam cards, sine waves, and barren trees. During the epic psych slam, Broadcast was surprisingly loud. I’d put them on my top ten loudest bands I’ve seen list. Of course, their loudness is different than, say, Dinosaur Jr. Their loudness was dependent on frequencies and wavelengths that hit your ear in a very intense fashion rather than Mogwai-style pure horsepower. The permeating zone-out transmissions pulsated hard. My dome turned in to a cottonball and my balls retracted, not unlike my reaction toward My Bloody Valentine’s Holocaust Section (though Broadcast’s was less demonic).

Then, very suddenly, the barren trees faded – replaced with swirling pastels and a lead in to “Corporeal.” This was the latter half of the show. Broadcast treats their set as one long piece, so most of the songs faded into each other. After some atomic deep sea diving, we were treated to more Tender Buttons action a la “Black Cat,” as well as “Lunch Hour Pops” from Haha Sound, and… gobs of new material. It seems that Broadcast is now distinctly within motorik dream pop realms laced with the type of ambiance found on Witch Cults, meaning that the forthcoming effort(s) will be decidedly different than their pre-HaHa Sound retro-futuristic lounge as well as the glitchy IDM of Tender Buttons.

The highlight of the evening, however, was the finale. Trish Keenan strapped on a dulcimer, which is one of my favorite simple acoustic instruments. For the non-musician types, a dulcimer is a popular tool in traditional Appalachian music. It’s a rather quiet instrument, and one that you can often find with build-it-yourself kits for $30 or so. Hence, I figured we were going to get a break in the stratospheric jams and take a load off with a quiet ballad. No fucking dice. That dulcimer was amplified. Wut chu kno bout an electric dulcimer?!

This, folks, is a krautrock hoedown:

Lana put it best I think. She said something to the effect of “Band did not dick around. Girl sets up, throws up hands and cusses at the sound guy, walks on, says hello, rocks out, bumps into the mic a couple of times, gives a grateful thanks plus buh-bye, and they were out.” She also mentioned she felt “haunted,” and I’ll agree with that. This is art. Broadcast slayed it.

Atlas Sound closed out the evening. B Cox, of course, came out with some his world-famous banter while setting up. The Selmanaires returned to the stage to act as Bradford’s full backing band. I was impressed at how Cox reinterpreted his catalog for the live show. The best way to describe it would be “shoegaze Americana” or “truly cosmic American music” (a play on the Gram Parsons quotation) or “kinda like The Byrds but with more effects pedals.” Harmonica and twangy, tinty guitars were given the same amount of exposure as Deerhunter’s ad infinitum stage drones and effects pedal tweaking. It was a good time, but we had to dart shortly after “Walkabout” so we could get home before 4 a.m. and I could be at work Monday morning without being a total zombie. Besides, I love ya B Cox… but it’s fucking hard to follow up Broadcast. I mean, their live set was Old Testament. I still had crazy tinnitus ringing in my ears during Atlas Sound, ya know. Gonna miss those frequencies.

Regular readers of this blog will be familiar with my usual bellyachin’ about how my camera leaves much to be desired. However, I think the camera’s fuzziness in low light, combined with the high contrast visual element of the show, actually worked to our benefit this time. These photos, perhaps ironically, truly capture the telescopic mood of the show better than, say, a big boy camera like the Canon Rebel. I’m extremely pleased with how these turned out, considering troubles I’ve had with concert photos recently. Lana took ‘em all, so please send her some love on her Flickr page.

::: BROADCAST (a.k.a. <3 U TRISH KEENAN!!!1)

::: ATLAS SOUND

Bedroom recordings/one man bands can obviously suffer from a lack of third party editing, indulgence, and impulse. But sometimes these caveats can also prohibit the growth of an entirely original, immersive, and painstakingly personal product. Seems like the ideal position for music junkie/nerd hero Atlas Sound, whose love for hushed, ghostly melodies have turned him into one of rock’s most beloved wet blankets. Bradford Cox doesn’t exactly share this sentiment anymore, though, and with his second album for Kranky, we find the project head trying to outrun his introverted nature on Logos.

The result is an album that is autobiographical not by it’s lyrics, but by the source of it’s sounds, it’s homages, collaborations, and cerebral passageways. It’s not self-mythetization so much as process of association. As children, we learn who we are by pretending to be others, and similarly Atlas Sound has begun to find it’s own unique shape through it’s loving mimics and costume changes. On “Quick Canal”, the soundtrack to a light-headed departure from our atmosphere, Cox recruits Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier for vocal duties. His sparse production of bio-luminescent synths and an unrelenting kraut shuffle allows his teenage hero to gracefully develop her siren call over Cox’s idiosyncratic groundwork. Another symbiotic marriage is formed on “Walkabout”, the albums sunniest cut. With the help of recent tour mate Panda Bear, the two successfully transform the Dover’s “What Am I Going to Do”, into a big beat ode to childhood of hiccuping organs and blissed out vocal camaraderie. But while this will be considered the album’s leading single, it would be a shame to let Cox’s commanding presence on the solo tracks go unnoticed.

Atlas Sound’s approach has always been admittedly loose and comprised largely of first takes. “There are songs on here I don’t even remember recording,” he said in a recent interview with Stereogum, but never before has this technique been so adaptive and fitting as it is now. Take the title-track “Logos” for example, which ends the album on a note of confidence (and is my current vote for song of the year). The churning synths explode over a swing beat and descending bass line, all filtered through a garage rock lens. Cox’s vocals, picked up from some passing transmission, hang on to the beat like he’s experiencing slight lag time through his head phones. His verses curl and drag, adding and cutting syllables at the drop of a dime, all fueled by a bravado that makes it impossible to have it any other way.

As a man with such an efficient connection between his ideas and his process, we loose the courtesy of presentation, but in it’s place we gain the opportunity to witness occasional moments of phenomena that only flows when you’ve desensitized yourself to the red recording light. Consequently, Logos has trouble holding on to a cohesive statement. Rather, each track seems to have been selected for how well it captured an individual mood. Birthed across the world in various studios, back stage at Deerhunter shows, hotel rooms, or forever lost locations, it plays more like a collection or anthology than an album. Cox seems to be utilizing a supposedly “baselined” music industry to take some risks on Logos, and I think everyone would benefit to try the same. If there’s one album you pay for this year, this should be it.

Logos in available October 22nd through Kranky Records, and is currently being supported by a tour with Broadcast.

Fagen-Becker Quality Rating

MP3 :::
Atlas Sound – Quick Canal (with Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier/Monade)
Atlas Sound – Logos

Told ya the bootlegs would come fast. Yesterday’s Atlas Sound ATP set is provided below. Lots of new stuff, lots of jammage, lots of Bradford gabbin’ and trying to fix his shit on stage. Enjoy.

Also, my boi Nathaniel from IGIF is at All Tomorrows Parties NY right now (bastard) and he’s reporting that B Cox told the crowd later that night during the Deerhunter set that yesterday’s show will be the last for the group “in quite a while.” This might be disconcerting if you don’t consider the fact that “quite a while” in Deerhunter years probably means “a couple of months.” I’m sure attention will turn to Atlas Sound, Lotus Plaza, and whatever other side projects the dudes are instituting in the interim. Fear not (hopefully).

Logos is still set to come out on October 20, which will be a super Tuesday (new Tickley Feather and Do Make Say Think also drop that day), courtesy of muhfuckin’ Kranky. Considering how much free shit Bradford gives you, buy it when it’s out. Seriously, guys.

MP3 :::
Atlas Sound – All Tomorrows Parties, Kutscher’s, Monticello, NY, 9.12.09

When I think of summer and the hot weather that we’ve been sometimes enjoying, I often conjure this majestic image in my head:

Treated. It’s the Tornado at Six Flags Kentucky Kingdom. You can probably see this thing from space. It’s huge. I’ve made one pilgrimage across town this summer to do bidding with the mighty Tornado, and plan to go five more times (as per the season pass). Not that any of this matters to you, of course. You probably just want the jams. Fair enough. Here is a summerish mix that, despite my admiration for Brian Wilson, does not feature any Beach Boys songs. That’s just too obvious, ya know:

As a buddy of mine once said “keep it crunk, but keep it positive.”

MP3 :::
Darker My Love – Summer is Here
Shop Assistants – Almost Made It
Sun City Girls – Radar 1941
The Jesus and Mary Chain – On the Wall (the better Barbed Wire Kisses version)
Atlas Sound – On Guard
City Center – Gladest
Amen Dunes – In Caroline
Friends – Summer Sunday Blues
Seals & Crofts – Summer Breeze
The Clean – Beatnik