Recap: Homo/Sonic

Thanks to everyone who came out to Homo/Sonic this past Friday. We had a great turn-out, and reached dancing density much earlier than I had expected. It could have been a bit cooler in the backstage of the Black Cat, but really, what's a night of dancing without sweating through your shirt? Or taking off your shirt for that matter?

Thanks again to Emanuel for capturing the event in pictures. You can view the Picasa slideshow above, or check them out and tag yourself on Facebook.

Thanks again for coming out! Keep checking the site to learn about other TNG parties as well as a whole host of other queer events in DC.

I've posted the full play list below the fold.

Homo/Sonic Play List, July 18, 2008.
(times approximate)

Michael & Zack: (9:30 - 10:00)

• Lykke Li - Little Bit
• Adam Green - Morning After Midnight
• Alamo Race Track - Kiss Me Bar
• Belle & Sebastian - She's Losing It
• The Crystals - Then He Kissed Me
• Cranberries - Dreams
• M83 - Kim & Jessie
• The Thrills - One Horse Town
• Ultra Vivid Scene - Crash
• Catherine Wheel - I Want to Touch You
• Franz Ferdinand - Walk Away

Stephanie: (10:00 - 10:30)

• Monster Hospital (MSTRKRFT Remix) - Metric
• Paris is Burning - Ladyhawke
• Move Your Feet - JUNIOR SENIOR*
• Bizarre Love Triangle - New Order
• Dance and Boogie - The Pipettes
• Paranoid Teeth Attack - The Faint vs. Obie Trice

Michael & Zack: (10:30 - 11:45)

• Björk - Big Time Sensuality (The Fluke Minimix)
• Weezer - I Just Threw Out the Love of My Dreams
• The Go! Team - Keys to the City
• Belaire - You Really Got Me Goin'
• Bloc Party - Helicopter (Peaches Weird Science Remix)*
• The Bravery - An Honest Mistake
• Blondie - Dreaming
• Bruce Springsteen - Badlands
• The Ting Tings - Shut Up And Let Me Go
• Cut Copy - Feel The Love*
• Erasure - A Little Respect*
• Go Gos - Vacation
• New Young Pony Club - The Bomb (Original Version)
• Future Bible Heroes - Hopeless - Claudia Gonson Vocal - Remix*
• The Knife - Heartbeats (Rex the Dog Mix)
• Ladytron - Ghosts

Stephanie: (11:45 - 12:30)

• Fascination - Alphabeat
• Going On - Gnarls Barkley
• On the Beat - Electrocute
• One More Time to Pretend - MGMT vs. Daft Punk
• Shawty Get Looks - Lil Mama vs. MSTRKRFT
• I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked - Ida Maria
• Hella Nervous - Gravy Train !!!*
• Let's Make Love and Listen to Death from Above - CSS*
• Nasty Feel - MGMT vs. Notorious B.I.G.
• Worked Up So Sexual - The Faint
• Club Action - Yo! Majesty*
• Tambourine - Eve
• Deceptacon - Le Tigre*
• Out of the Races and Onto the Tracks - The Rapture
• Shine A Little Love - ELO
• Oh! - Sleater-Kinney*
• Lose Control - Missy Elliott
• Don't Stop Til You Get Enough - Michael Jackson
• Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson
• Standing in the Way of Control - The Gossip*

Michael & Zack (12:30 - 2:00)

• Scissors Sisters - I Don't Feel Like Dancing*
• AbbA - Does Your Mother Know
• KLF - Stand By The Jams (12" Version Feat. Tammy Wynette)
• The Ting Tings - Great DJ
• Muscles - Hey Muscles I Love You
• The Pipettes - Pull Shapes
• The Go! Team - Huddle Formation
• Ladytron - Playgirl
• Hot Chip - Over and Over
• Peaches - Two Guys (For Every Girl)*
• LCD Soundsystem - Tribulations
• New Pornographers - All the Things That Go to Make Heaven and Earth
• Annie - I Know UR Girlfriend Hates Me
• New Young Pony Club - The Get Go
• Los Campesinos! - You! Me! Dancing!
• Depeche Mode - Everything Counts (Radio Edit)
• Dead or Alive - Brand New Lover*
• The Ting Tings - That's Not My Name
• Duran Duran - Girls On Film
• Blur - Girls And Boys - Pet Shop Boys Radio Edit
• The Pipettes - Your Kisses Are Wasted On Me
• George Michael - Freedom '90*
• David Bowie - Oh! You Pretty Things*

* Denotes queer artist. We flagged David Bowie because you just know he's had a few dicks in his mouth. We'll feature more queer artists next time around.

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Review: New Sigur Rós

Another music review from Craig Gidney. This time he reviews the new album by gay-fronted Icelandic band Sigur Rós, the unpronouncable Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust, or in English, With a Buzz in Our Ears We Play Endlessly.

I saw Sigur Ros a few years ago at the 9:30 Club, when they were touring in support of their space rock masterpiece, ( ). (Editor's note: Yes, the name of the album was the open- and close-parenthesis marks. Yet another unpronouncable record. Thanks, guys!) It was the only time I've been at the 9:30 Club where there was absolute silence. No clinking beer glasses, no rowdy frat boys. It was almost like a religious experience. 2 hours of glacial music, with abstract images cast on a screen. I don't even think Dead Can Dance inspired such reverence. Ever since ( ), the boys in the band have tried to balance pop craft with their arty otherworldliness.

Sigur Ros play a brand of postrock that is heavily influenced by 'ethereal' music. Ethereal music usually features dense, shimmering atmospheric layers of sound, often generated by heavily effected guitars, melodies that reference classical music, and angelic, frequently wordless vocals. It's a sound that can be a tad precious and pretentious, but Sigur Rós has a muscularity to their playing that mostly avoids those pratfalls. In earlier albums, openly gay tenor Jonsi Birgisson sang his songs in a mysterious, private language, a la Liz Fraser (Cocteau Twins) and Lisa Gerrard (Dead Can Dance) called "Hopelandic" On MSIEVPE, Sigur Ros hone their epic, majestic sound into pop songs… with hooks and lyrics in Icelandic. While the music has more form and is even has some sing-along melodies, it still sounds unearthly. "Gobbledigook," the first single, sounds like a cross between the Beach Boys and Gregorian monks. And while I can't be 100% sure, I suspect its Hopelandic rather than Icelandic. Other songs likewise aim for concision—producer Flood must have had an editorial hand in culling the most compelling compositions. Fans of the older, meandering artsongs, however, won't be disappointed. 'Festival; and 'Ara Batur' are suites that mix orchestral sounds with ambient passages that harken back to ( ).

Jonsi must have had some voice lessons. Where his falsetto tended to 'mewl,' there are passages where his voice simply soars like a boy soprano's. . MSIEVPE is a great album, and their most accessible work. It has a lighter feel, even though it is mostly lights-out, close-your-eyes music. Plus it has cool cover art: a Whitmanesque image of naked youths jumping over a fence in a bucolic field.


Other Editor's note: If you missed the gay-themed and heart-wrenching video from their first album, check it out here.

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Another Gay Movie: The Wedding Banquet

Another movie review submitted by Adam Isn't Here.

You can’t accuse Ang Lee of making the same movie twice. He’s helmed an indie sleeper (The Ice Storm), a bombastic kung-fu genre extravaganza (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), a modern gay touchstone (Brokeback Mountain), a Merchant-Ivory style period piece (Sense and Sensibility), and an underrated, Hollywood super-hero blockbuster (The Hulk). And still, despite the all the variation in setting and style, his films are really about one thing: repressed desire. Judging from his work, it would be pretty safe to say that he thinks that it’s a bad thing.

With that in mind, The Wedding Banquet seems somehow set apart from the rest. Not in it’s theme of course. It’s the story of a gay Taiwanese man who lives in Manhattan with his boyfriend, and decides to marry his female, Chinese, artist tenant to appease his traditional parents. Fits the model, right? The difference seems to be in the conclusions he arrives at regarding a live filled with lies built upon lies.

First, a bit more on the plot. Wai-Tung has lived in the US for ten years, and with his boyfriend, Simon, for five of those years. He owns a run-down warehouse building in Williamsburg where he fudges the zoning laws by renting a loft to Wei-Wei, an artist from mainland China. She can’t hold decent job as she has no green card (I feel that sister!), so she pays rent in her artwork, much to Wai-Tung’s dismay. Also she’s kind of in love with him, constantly lamenting the fact that her lot in life seems to be pining after handsome gay men.

After constant badgering from Wai-Tung’s parents, Simon suggests what could only amount to a win-win scenario. Why don’t Wei-Wei and Wai-Tung get married? That way, Wai-Tung’s parents are happy, and Wei-Wei can stay in the country. Eureka! Nobody expects the parents to actually show up. But, of course, they do and you can imagine what ensues. I won’t spoil it for anyone who hasn’t seen it (though it did come out in 1993).

The most interesting thing about it for me was the ending. These folks are all lying to each other and themselves in one way or another, like all of Mr. Lee’s characters tend to. Well, years of going to the movies have taught us that coming clean and being yourself will set you free. Surely, in the end, everyone will understand why you’ve lied for so long, if only after a montage of anguished looks and swelling music and maybe a boozed-up bender. Alternatively you can keep lying, deny yourself, and suffer the agonizing consequences. Two options: choose one.

We don’t need to leave Lee’s oeuvre for examples of either. We all know what happened to Brokeback Mountain’s Ennis and Jack because they couldn’t face facts, grow a pair, and ditch back-water Montana-or-where-ever-the-fuck and move-to-San-Francisco-already because it’s fucking 1982 and you don’t need to live like this! One dead and one sentenced to a life in mourning. Super! The intrepid ladies of Sense and Sensibility (after much chatter) ultimately, finally, find a way to vocalize their feelings and they all wind up married to the men of their dreams. Dreamy! Crouching Tiger’s got examples of both: Shu-Lien and Mu-Bai flirt and makes eyes all across the medieval Chinese country side, and only while in the actual process of dying does Mu-Bai proclaim his love for her. Tragic! Shu-lien at least learns something from this, and instructs the bratty, wayward Jen to follow her own path and make her own kind of music and all that. She follows Mama Cass’ advice and jumps off a mountain (that one is the happy ending by the way).

In The Wedding Banquet the resolutions don’t come so neat-and-tidy. Here, no one ever reveals all, no one person gets the whole picture. Everyone has to compromise. While there may be a lot less outright deception in the end, it’s replaced only by a tacit understanding that everyone knows only what they need to know, and that not everything is for sharing.

The liberal in me wants to reject this. I want to think that total transparency would do away with the necessity of all the lies. The truth will set you free, right? But I think that leads to another big part of what the movie is about: what do these people expect of each other? Can Wai-Tung expect his traditional Chinese parents to ignore years of cultural sexual-repression and embrace him and his boyfriend without reservation? Can the parents expect their son to be the rich, handsome, family-man despite his own wishes? Can Wei-Wei expect Wai-Tung to fall in love with her because she feels that way for him? Can Simon expect Wai-Tung to tell his parents to just fuck off back to Taipei?

Well…no, no, no and, uh…no. But there is a way to make sure everyone isn’t totally miserable. And in the end it mostly works out. This is still movie-land after all.

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New Music: My Brightest Diamond, "A Thousand Shark's Teeth"

Yet another music review submitted by Craig Gidney.

Shara Worden has been likened to the late Jeff Buckley and Rufus Wainwright. Like both artists, she augments her quirky, dark compositions with rock, cabaret and symphonic influences. Her compositions are complex as mid period Joni Mitchell (The Hissing of Summer Lawns, Hejira) put out. Vibraphones, wurlitzers and odd percussion decorate songs that change tempos and tones, from waltz to rock to art song.

Worden's voice is a powerful and rich alto, with a rarely utilized awesome operatic high end. The romantic ballad "If I Were Queen" belongs in some bizarre Sondheim musical, while "The Top of the World" is a twisted, sauntering sea shanty. "Black and Coustad" is gothic in the Flannery O'Connor sense (rather than the black eyeliner kind): scratchy, twenties-style singing, sinister bassoons. "To Pluto's Moon" hangs out in David Lynch's cabaret lounge, on skittering harp strings. Some songs rock, like the blistering strings and guitar opener "Inside A Boy." Her lyrics full of convoluted imagery that occasionally comes across as precious. But that's a small quibble. Most listeners will be lost in the cinematic grandeur of "A Thousand Shark's Teeth."

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New Music: The Twilight Sad. Point and Counterpoint.

This week, contributors Mike Dyer and Craig Gidney have both supplied reviews of the new album by Scottish band Twilight Sad, Here, It Never Snowed. Afterwards It Did. Full reviews below the fold.

Point

Post Adolescent Idealism, Craig Gidney
"Cold Days from the Birdhouse" opens the album on a sea of droning postrock guitars and the strident brogue of singer James Graham's voice. It's melodic but it also has the passion and drama of the instrumental band the Dirty Three. The lyrics are about love lost, but the overarching theme is about the fate of Young Men as Artists than ones that got away. "And She Would Darken The Memory" (love those titles!) simmers with angelic glockenspiels and violins mixed into ambient leitmotifs. The title track is restructured dreampop, with a little more testicular fortitude. "Mapped By What Surrounded Them" and "Walking for Two Hours" have an epic, chiming feel and are almost pop songs; they have enough hidden sounds and twists to stop them from becoming Coldplay. The closing "Some Things Last A Long Time" starts as a plainsong, with just Graham's voice before being drenched in My Bloody Valentine reverb. There's a Scottish spirit that pervades this music, but its less obvious than Big Country-style bagpipe guitars, and it is more than the vocals. The surreal lyrics and artiness of the project reminds me of fellow Glaswegian Alasdair Gray's novel Lanark, which mixed the male bildungroman with a wacky SF mediation on death. Like Lanark , the Twilight Sad capture post adolescent idealism without the earnestness in bold, symphonic—and original—strokes.

Counterpoint:

The Twilight Same, Michael Dyer
So, this weekend I was doing a little work at the coffe shop and decided to give Twilight Sad's new album, Here it never snowed, Yesterday it did a cursory listen ahead of this review. Maybe three songs in, I noticed iTunes was repeating one of the tracks; it must be set to "repeat one," and I hadn't realized it. So, I open iTunes and find that, no, in fact it's playing through the entire album, one song after the other. It's just that every song sounds more-or-less the same. Here's the recipe for the everytrack:

1) fade-in deep electronic ambients

2) layer on a few heavy, synthesized guitar riffs, and some percussion supported by electronic microbeats

3) intersperse lyrics sung by a gravely Scottish Bono

4) have Scottish Bono occasionally screams the lyrics

5) continue mix for four to eight minutes

So, if you like all those things, and can't get enough, you'll absolutely love this album. I think this list makes for a really attractive mix (in some cases, it comes together beautifully, like in the track "walking for two hours"), but, in the aggregate, it's too much of a good thing. More variation and this album would be killer. But there's isn't. It's incredibly repetitive, which ultimately damages what is good about it. My advice would be to pick your favorite track (if you can tell them apart) and add it to a larger playlist . . .

The Twilight Sad'sHere, It Never Snowed. Afterwards It Did is available online via .

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Roundup — Mousetrap: Pride Edition

Thanks again to everyone who came out to the TNG-sponsored Mousetrap: Pride Edition party at the Black Cat on Saturday night. We packed the house with homos, or so it seemed from the DJ booth/stage. Thanks again to Mark Zimin for allowing us to co-host his monthly dance party with him. Mark reports that 727 people turned up!

To all of you who weren't aware of the Mousetrap before showing up on Saturday, it's always a fun night and I encourage you to check it out again. It's usually held on the 2nd Saturday of the month, and the next one is on July 12. Hopefully we'll see you there.

We are still in search of some pictures from Saturday night's event. I brought my camera but was too busy DJing and having fun to remember to take any photos. Got pics? Send them to me!

Finally, we have a few irons in the fire for a regular TNG dance party. Keep your fingers crossed and your eyes open for news along that front. In the mean time, make sure to swing by our "Pride Recovery" party this Thursday.

I've reproduced the set list from Saturday below the fold.


Michael & Zack

• Love and Rockets, So Alive
• Magnetic Fields. I Don't Love You Any More*
• Supergrass, La Song
• Alamo Race Track, Northern Territory
• Andrew Bird, Fake Palendromes
• New Pornographers, All For Swinging You Around
• The Blow, Parentheses*
• Depeche Mode, Everything Counts
• The Go! Team, Bottle Rocket
• Grandaddy, Now It's On
• Stereolab, The Seeming and The Meaning
• RJD2, Through The Walls

Mark

• The Kooks, Stormy Weather
• The 6ths, San Diego Zoo*
• The Las, There She Goes
• The Smith, There Is A Light That Never Goes Out*
• The Shins, Turn On Me
• The Cure, Close To Me
• Belle and Sebastian, Another Sunny Day
• Camera Obscura, Hey Lloyd I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken
• Vampire Weekend, Walcott
• Cloud Room, Hey Now Now

Michael & Zack

• Raveonettes, That Great Love Sound
• The Pipettes, Really That Bad
• The Ting Tings, That's Not My Name
• Annie, Chewing Gum
• New Young Pony Club, Get Dancy
• The Sounds, Tony the Beat
• The Strokes, Hard to Explain
• Le Tigre, Decptacon*
• Supergrass, Alright
• Neutral Milk Hotel, Holland 1945
• Apples In Stereo, Seems So
• Metric, Succexy

Mark

• Pelle Carlsberg, Clever Girls Like Clever Boys Much More Than Clever Boys Like Clever Girls
• Belle and Sebastian, Sleep The Clock Around
• New Order, Blue Monday
• Naked Eyes, Always Something There to Remind Me
• Soft Cell, Where Did Our Love Go?
• Echo and the Bunnymen, Read It In Books
• The Clash, Rock The Casbah
• Pulp, Common People
• Joy Devision, Love Will Tear Us Apart Again
• Pixies, U-Mass
• The Church, I Am A Rock
• James, Laid
• Primal Scream, Movin' On Up
• Charlatans UK, The Only One I Know
• The Ting Tings, Shut Up and Let Me Go

Michael & Zack

• The Pipettes, Pull Shapes
• The Gossip, Standing In The Way of Control*
• Future Bible Heroes, Hopeless (Claudia Gonson Vocals)*
• The Blow, Fist Up*
• Stone Roses, She Bangs The Drums
• The Smiths, Ask*
• Los Campesinos, You! Me! Dancing!
• The Ting Tings, Great DJ
• The Raveonettes, You Want The Candy
• Arcade Fire, Rebellion (Lies)
• Supergrass, Pumping On Your Stereo
• The Killers, When You Were Young
• Hot Chip, Ready For The Floor
• Ladytron, Playgirl

Mark

• Iggy Pop, The Passenger
• Belle and Sebastian, Boy With The Arab Strap
• The Cure, Just Like Heaven
• The Smiths, Big Mouth Strikes Again
• The Strokes, Someday
• The Damned, Jet Boy Jet Girl
• The Jam, Town Called Malice

* Denotes queer artist.

Oh, and apologies to anyone who requested a song that we didn't play. We had quite a few requests and a pretty long list of "essentials" that we tried to work in. Between that and keeping with the britpop theme of the evening, a few requests slipped through the cracks. We'll play 'em next time!

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New Music Tuesday: Part 2

This post was submitted by frequent contributor Mike Dyer.

Too spare. Too full. Just right.

I felt too much like Goldilocks listening to Windsor for the Derby's How We Lost: it's an album of extremes that left me wanting the opposite of whatever I was hearing. When it was spare, I thought it was too spare to be interesting. When it was textured, the sound was too full to be enjoyed. And those are really the qualities of this album: too spare and too full. I kept wanting them to dial the extremes back just a bit. In two great cases, they did, and it was... just right.

It's too spare

In many artistic mediums, space thrills. In theatre, the long silent pause between lines is when the audience leans in, searching for a hint of where the drama is headed; in film, it's the slow reveal reaction shot, not the action shot, the really kills; and in the visual arts, it's the expertly-placed single drop of paint on an otherwise pristine canvas that can turn your head in a gallery. But creating space in art always teeters dangerously close to artistic self-indulgence.

In Windsor's case, there seems to be too much self-indulgence when it comes to space in their music. At times, certain tracks feel like think pieces that were created without thought of the audience. There isn't enough going on to keep it interesting; more than once I glanced at the counter to see how long I had left in a track. The extreme example of this extreme is "Robin Robinette:" it's just space. It's totally empty, low-level undulating and repetitive guitar chords. It's silence with no dialogue. "Let Go" and "Troubles" also fall victim to this too-spare-ness, but not to the same extent.

It's too full

Admittedly, "too full" isn't as much of a problem as being "too spare." I don't think many people criticize Jackson Pollack anymore for too many drops of paint on his canvasses; even I liked The Bourne Supremacy, with it's cuts paced every second or so; and I've completely lost count of how many times I've seen Spring Awakening. So, yeah, "too full" can work really well. I just can't think of a great musical example off the top of my head. I guess that tells me Windsor isn't it.

The problem is that including both extremes on one album is really jarring. It's not even that there's a single song that swings back and forth between spare and full; it's an album-wide, song-by-song yo-yo that didn't sit right with me. The heavy, racing riffs of "Maladies" coming right after the wide-open "Let Go" doesn't create a sort of tension between the two; you just notice they're really different, too different maybe. That sort of extreme transition is replayed throughout the album. You'll see. FWIW: "What We Want," is probably the "Robin Robinette of the too full tracks. Not a smidge of room to breathe.

It's just Right

All that said, there are two pretty great, dramatic and interesting tracks, however. "Forgotten" is--finally--a textured and intimate track that, even now, I find myself going back to listen to again and again. It has a sense of human-ness that much of the album, in it's extremes, doesn't. And then there's "Spirit Fade," which ends the album on an upbeat, hopeful note. It's a complex track that is never overpowering, and does the best job on the album of balancing between the extremes I've mentioned. If you're not inclined to check out the whole album, these two tracks are definitely worth your time.

How We Lost by Windsor for the Derby is available on

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New Music Tuesday: Part 1

Frequent contributor Craig Gidney does occasional music reviews for TNG. This week, he provides two short reviews of new (out today!) Spanish language albums. The first is the new album by Natalia Clavier, released on DC's own ESL label. The second is the new album by Allá, a Chicago three-piece that creates latin-influenced psychedelic rock.


Natalia Clavier, "Nectar"

DC's 18th Street Lounge Records has been creating suave and sophisticated downtempo with an an international flair for years. Natalia Clavier is a perfect artist for the label; her music weds trip-hop, downtempo and classic latin sounds into lovely brew. Clavier has a pure, sweet voice (like nectar) that avoids the cliché "sultry" sound. There's a smattering of Morcheeba in the "Azul" that recalls the best of the band. Most of the songs, though, a fairly straightforward ballads that use electronica and triphop sounds (like scratching) as decoration, rather than organic part of the craft, and as a result, the album is dangerously close to mojito and Armani suit cocktail party music. Just a dash of edginess would have made the album more than pleasant.

Allá, "Es Tiempo"

Allá proves the experimental music doesn't always have to be dark and depressing. These 3 Chicano/a Chitowners mix Spanish lyrics with a sound that mixes Stereolab, a dash of shoegazer and smattering of 70s pop and soul. I don't what guitarist Lupe Martinez is singing about, but I don't care. Her voice is at once airy and powerful and soars over the intricate arrangements. She's a sweeter Laetitia Sadier, or less spacy Juana Molina. Glitch pop, disco-era strings, wurlitzers and other hybrid forms simmer in these songs. Steve Reich-like minimalism crash into electropop with kitschy nods to lo-fi and Philadelphia soul. The whole album is shot through with a sunny surrealistic vibe that's simply infectious.

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Boston Boy(s) Make Good

This post was submitted by Mike Dyer, the del facto founder of TNG's nacent Boston franchise.

Eli "Paperboy" Reed	Chester French

Two worthy acts making their home on the north bank of the Charles River (that's Cambridge, MA, formerly known as Newtowne, for anyone unacquainted with geography or American history) have found their way onto the cognoscenti music scene during the first half of this year: Eli "Paperboy" Reed and the Trueloves, and Chester French. Both of them are talented enough, and innovative enough, to warrant a close listen. (And not just because they, like myself, happen to call Boston home, meaning that among other things, to us the "reflecting pool" is this and not this. But, I digress…)

Eli "Paperboy" Reed and the Trueloves

He's been described as the "male Any Winehouse," but that doesn't fairly account for just how earnestly Eli Reed is pursuing Otis Redding's intimate wail ethos. Nor does it account for just how comparatively well-behaved he is. Fine that Miss Amy *sounds* like an early 1960s songstress, but Eli *feels* Redding-esque, like a 21st century Sam Cooke or Teddy Pendergrass. Not too shabby for a mild-mannered Boston boy.

The thing that makes his debut album incredible to me is that it manages to take a long glance back at Otis Redding and Wilson Pickett without coming off as referential or nostalgic (unlike Amy's Back to Black). And, when you're wailing over a sharp horn section and crispy guitar riffs, that's saying something. Eli somehow manages to find new musical ground to till here, and he does so with an energy that, like all great soul singers, makes you believe he's discovering the emotions behind the wail right there while he's singing…every time out.

This album is absolutely solid from top to bottom, and deftly oscillates between Otis-like intimate soul ballads and Wall-of-Sound 50s era rock-soul. Personal fave: "I'm Gonna Getcha."

Two other NBs: 1) He put out a 45 of the album, and it is, by far, the best way to listen, assuming anyone you know has a record player. (A what? Exactly.) 2) Eli's sweat-laden live performances/musical brushfire revivals could be a whole other post by themselves but, suffice it to say, they have more raw energy and musical ability (including the band's) than the already-powerful album conveys. Lucky for you, he's touring this summer.

Chester French

(Not to be confused with the duo's namesake, this Chester French)

One part Beach Boys. One part downbeat Weezer (or maybe early Cake, I can't decide.) And at least two parts self-indulgence. That, more or less, describes Chester French, Cambridge's alt-hipster sonorous cause celebre. Their Pharrell Williams-produced debut album isn't out yet, but a few tracks are available on their Myspace page.

I've been listening for a few weeks, and while I'm not sure it's quite deserving of all the praise, it is musically interesting and, dare I say, innovative. It's oddly pleasing to hear smooth, Beach-Blanket-Bingo melodies undulating beneath Brian Wilson-esque lyrics about a nymphomaniac girlfriend or, yes, Jimmy Choos. (Really? Two straight boys singing about footware? I know. What a fascinating and ambiguous modern age we live in.) Plus, you've got to give them credit for taking the Big Pony, popped collar gestalt out for a spin. (Musically, I mean. The Big Pony has obviously been making the rounds in the gay scene for a while now. In fact, it might have overstayed its welcome.) Style points aside, CF is musically debonnaire, even if it's not entirely my thing. Overall, I'm glad the Harvard boys are giving it the Old College Try, and I highly encourage you to give 'em a listen.

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New Music: The Kooks - Konk

The Kooks' Shine On

A colleague of mine referred to The Kooks as "quite possibly today's best pop band." I wouldn't go quite that far, but they do have a few things going for them. First, they do indeed write great pop songs. Secondly, I'm a sucker for harmony and The Kooks' formula includes a lot of it. But perhaps most importantly, their lead singer sings in an adorable cockney accent that just makes me melt.

Their latest album, Konk, delivers what a fan would expect: medium- to fast-paced guitar-driven melodic pop songs. Not unlike the latest from We Are Scientists, it's good stuff but it's not going to change the world. If my CD collection were organized by the way the bands sound, I'd file Konk right next to albums by Franz Ferdinand, Supergrass and The Strokes.

The songs are solid, with only a few annoyances. The song "Do You Wanna" puts all the narrator's cards on the table with the oh-so-discreet statement, "I know you wanna, I know you wanna make love to me." Barf. The song "Mr. Maker" is so reminiscent of Belle and Sebastian's "Me and the Major" that I can't take it seriously. But tracks like "Shine On" and "Always Where I Need To Be" steer clear from stereotypes and cheesy lyrics and provide what my college was referring to: great, pure pop.

One final note: many of their YouTube videos from the new album don't seem to work. You might be better off listening to tracks off their myspace page.

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TNG "Party Etiquette" Party Recap

Our fourth party was a great success. Perhaps it was the holiday weekend or the fact that the last party was way too packed, but we avoided major overcrowding yet had a nice sized crowd all night long. I'm tempted to chalk it up to the "Yoga Berra Effect". The fact that "no one goes there anymore, it's too crowded."

You'll note in the pictures that someone even wore flip-flops. And the world didn't come to an end.

Thanks to everyone who came out. Keep your fingers crossed for a potential TNG Pride event.

** Addendum ** Party pictures are also available on Facebook. Browse and tag at your leisure.

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Review: Alison Bechdel's "Fun Home."

Some people hold a low opinion of the graphic novel, and say that the art form doesn't actually count as literature. Those people are wrong. Allison Bechdel's "Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic" is the author's memoir of growing up with a closeted, unloving father. Her coming out as a lesbian prompts him to share the details of his own sexuality, four months before he is hit by a truck in an incident suspected to be suicide. "Fun Home" gets its title both from the funeral home her dad manages when not teaching high school English (and having sex with his students) and from the gaudy decor of the victorian house that he restored by hand.

Those familiar with Bechdel only through her awesome "Dykes to Watch Out For" comics series will be surprised at the depth of emotion in "Fun Home." Her literary cartoon alter-ego looks a little like DTWO's Mo, and the dry humor is still there, but the pain and sadness evident throughout the book separate it from something you'd read in the back of the Sunday paper.

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New Music: The New Bloods and M83

Occasional contributor Craig Gidney has supplied reviews of two new albums: The New Bloods, "The Secret Life" and M83, "Saturdays=Youth". See the reviews below the fold.


The New Bloods, "The Secret Life."

"Oh, Deadly Nightshade!" is the song worth the price of admission on this queer Portland trio's debut. It has a wickedly catchy violin riff, chanted declamatory vocals, and tight, herky-jerky irresistible rhythm section. This art punk outfit mix outré elements into a percolating brew that doesn't always hold together, but is always interesting to listen to. The violin is the centerpiece of their sound, and it veers from bluegrass fiddlin' to pizzicato punk, highlighting the more aggressive sounds of that instrument. (An occasional gypsy violin figure will fly free). The odd time signatures the band employees are short, sharp shocks. The lyrics are lost in the production—which has a live show feel, which is a shame, because the bits and pieces that one can make are intriguing—allegedly "Behind Mountains" is influenced by Haitian novelist Edwige Danticat, and other pieces hint at feminist and post-colonialist subject matter. DIY Punk lives on, and it ain't white or male. The New Bloods will be playing at the Black Cat on May 29 with Turboslut, & Equinox which, according to one reader, will be "a night of furious fun and fierce queercore."

M83, "Saturdays=Youth"

Shoegaze or dreampop is my favorite genre of music. It's timeless, gorgeous and edgy all once. It's exemplified by shimmering guitars, hypnotic rhythms and a focus on atmospherics and texture over linearity or 'catchiness'. It's been having a revival, with the imminent return of My Bloody Valentine as one of the signs. M83, along with Ulrich Schnauss, leads the way for second generation shoegazer music. M83 adds kitsch electronics alongside twee male/female vocals into the mix of ethereal guitar textures and driving rhythms. The result is a dreamy, sundrenched soundtrack of halcyon days. Electroclash meets Slowdive on "Saturdays=Youth." Irony-free joy abounds. M83 plays the Black Cat on June 7.

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New Music: We Are Scientists - Brain Thrust Mastery

My first exposure to We Are Scientists was actually when I was studying in Buenos Aires. I went to see Franz Ferdinand at an old boxing arena and some kid in the crowd was wearing a t-shirt reading "I ARE SCIENTISTS". I thought that perhaps this was one in a long stream of shirts I'd been spotting that had funny English-phrases on them, not unlike stuff available on Engrish.com. I found out nearly 2 years later that it was not what I had thought, but instead a clever t-shirt from the band We Are Scientists.

Since then, I've had the chance to preview their new album which was released today. And it's pretty good. I've heard them compared to Flock of Seagulls minus the hair, which I can't necessarily hear. Tracks on the new album are a good mix of fun pop and modern rock. Think The Killers mixed with The Bravery combined with a little Bloc Party.

They have some fun videos, too, usually involving dogs. The video below for "After Hours" (probably my favorite song from the album) includes a guy going on a blind date with a dog. And the video above for the song "Chick Lit" includes the guys from the band herding Pomeranians. Could there be some Brokeback Mountain references in that video, too? Hmm. Obviously these guys have a good sense of humor. And they're pretty cute, too.

Will these guys change the world with their music? Probably not. But they're definitely worth checking out and listening to while waiting for another band that will.


The new album Brain Thrust Mastery by We are Scientists is available on iTunes.

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Review: Portishead's Third

This post was submitted by Craig Laurance Gidney, a native Washingtonian who blogs and publishes the occasional piece of fiction.

The trip-hop pioneers have returned with a difficult, dense album. Theirs a hybrid sound, full of aural trompe l'oeil: film noir soundtracks festooned with industrial beats ("Silence"), tender folk songs that evolve into bleak early 80s synth pop ("The Rip"). Sci-fi sound effects and jazz samples underscore and frame songs, decaying away to reveal nude beats.

Adrian Utley and Geoff Barrow have created a claustrophobic song cycle filled with menace. They've also added snippets of early New Order and proto-electroclash to the mix ("We Carry On")—astringent atonalities that roughen their cinematic leanings. (More David Lynch, less 40s noir). Singer Beth Gibbons' voice is at its most stark and vulnerable. On past Portishead albums, and on her underrated solo recording, "Out of Season," she explored various vocal styles, wedding the bent blues of Billie Holiday with the iciness of early Siouxsie Sioux. Now, she sounds wounded and lost, stripped of her affectations, lost in the shadows. She's not afraid to sound unpleasant—the slightly off-key harmonizing of "Small" is effectively eerie, and elsewhere, her voice is distorted twisted through the compositions.

If 'Third' has a weakness, its that it's relentlessly dark. 'Third' creates a singular mood that can bring full-on night on the bright of days.

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What Goes On in Lou Reed's Mind?

There aren't many queer music icons that hold personal significance to me. I feel that the user's manual of contemporary gayness was written before my birth and such accepted gay go-tos like Madonna, Cyndi Lauper and Elton John are part of a homo certification that I never received. I like their music, but when bop around to "Into the Groove" it has nothing to do with my sexuality.

The one queer musician that really means something to me is Lou Reed. Between his years in The Velvet Underground and the occasional genius of his solo albums he's one of the few gay artists whose songs even come close to reflecting my gay life. When a last minute opportunity arose to see his sold out 9:30 Club show last week, I was thrilled. I could barely concentrate all day. Would he play Pale Blue Eyes? Would his encore be Goodnight, Ladies? Could I possess a brief, secondhand scrap of Greenwhich Village in the '60s, the countercultural Shangri-La that a too-recent birthday will forever leave out of my reach?

None of these things happened. The show was actually boring. And not just boring for a Lou Reed show. I mean it was unabashedly, bad songs and lazy banter, low-energy boring.

My sister Molly always says that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. By that definition, I'm insane. (And the pope is Catholic. And Larry Craig sucks dick in the woods. ) The latest sign loose screws is my habit of seeing aged music legends and expecting them to rock like they did in their prime. Debbie Harry and Donovan both just made me sad about not being alive in their respective 80's and 60's heydays, and to this cavalcade of disappointment I must now add Lou Reed.

Half the letdown was the set list: Lou barely played any songs that the I or the audience seemed to know or be excited about. I'm far from a paragon of Velvet Underground knowledge but I consider myself a pretty big fan. I can tell you what Stephanie, Candy, Lisa and Caroline said. I once got bored and memorized the entirety of The Black Angel's Death Song. None of this mattered, as all but four songs were from the last 15 years. I know that Lou Reed has a back catalog of about a bajillion albums, but I also feel like legendary artists who rarely tour have a certain obligation to play their classic songs. Not begrudgingly, not while skipping verses and flubbing lines (like he did for Sweet Jane) but actually throwing a bone to the fans that made him famous in the first place.

(And I should say that I'm not just being bitter at being deprived of "Cool It Down." The songs he played were were rambling to the point of masturbatory. Several times I had to lean over to TNG Michael and say "Songs like these are the reason that people don't like Lou Reed.")

It was also distracting that Lou wouldn't let any of his bandmates do their jobs. During songs, he would put his back to the audience and non-verbally instruct his drummer to drum harder or his keyboardist to play faster. This man's supposed to be an asshole, but a control freak asshole? The bars on the main floor of the club had to close before the performance started, as if all that pouring and sipping would disrupt his flow.

Of all this though, the biggest cause of my disappointment was that there was absolutely nothing subversive about the performance. I discovered The Velvet Underground at 19, when a friend of mine filled an 8-hour car ride with their comprehensive box set and the sweet acid strummings of "Who Loves the Sun" opened up a new world. I was astounded at the range of moods and subjects that one band could cover. The S&M drone of "Venus in Furs." "All Tomorrow's Parties'" pity stomp. "The New Age's" hopeful nostalgia or "One of These Day's" swagger. These songs all mean something to me, both for the various stages of my life when I discovered them and for the way they could uncannily reflect my state of mind while still providing enough distance to allow me reflection.

However, I had years of fandom under my belt before I found out that Lou Reed wasn't straight. After I graduated from college, a friend of mine mentioned that Lou would fuck anything and has slept with bandmates of both genders. A little research dug up the fact that his parents sent him to electro-shock therapy at an early age to "cure" his homosexuality. So many of his solo songs ("Take A Walk on the Wild Side," "Makeup," "Hangin' Round") espoused a sexual freedom that is different from the "be fabulous" attitude of today's gay music. He gave permission to lick boots and give head and come out of your closet and have sex in the hall while never losing his voice as an outsider. Even when I first moved to D.C., I could listen to a gorgeous love song like "I Found A Reason" and think that maybe, just maybe, Lou had written it for a guy.

So Lou Reed is queer, but damned if his stage show wasn't a vanilla bombast on par with listening to the Foo Fighters play over the loudspeaker CVS. I didn't expect him to put on fishnets and blow a roadie but even songs about a Halloween parade in New York, and Lou's mumbled regret that so many of it's participants had died of AIDS, seemed like the polished motions of someone who forgot how important he was to his audience. An audience that felt some connection to one or another underbelly of society.

So Lou Reed has grown up and gotten older and married a woman. That happens. I knew that going in to the show. But there's a pleasant middle ground between nostalgia act and experimental dad-rock, and I certainly didn't see it.

So I can check one more "see 'em before they die" artist off my list (and hope that Jeff Lynne stays on our mortal coil just a little bit longer) but I might've been better off staying at home with a spliff and an LP. Come to think of it, there is probably no way that the show could live up to my expectations. I guess that's the thing about heroes — you get closer to them and they're just people. Old, wrinkled people in awkwardly-fitting t-shirts.

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What We're Listening To: Day-Late-Dollar-Short Edition

Tuesday has come and gone, but unlike last week, there's a "What We're Listening To" in the works. This would have made the midnight Tuesday deadline, but I was out shopping for a new bathing suit in preparation for my weekend trip to Vegas. Alas, time spent at Filene's Basement can't be spent assembling music reviews for TNG. C'est la vie. Luckily, "I Just Got a Bargain" because this post is a day late and a dollar short, featuring Meredith Bragg, Emily Wells, Born Against, and Lykke Li.


Meredith Bragg—Silver Sonia

If you like your music both sad AND edifying you can hardly do better than DC's own Meredith Bragg. The man (who's not a woman) released Silver Sonya in December, gave me a copy on New Year's Eve, and it's remained firmly in my everyday playlist since. All eleven tracks are gorgeous, but my favorite is Plinian, Pliny the Younger's imagined eyewitness account of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D., naturally. And who doesn't love a concept album? Pick it up at The Kora Records. - Jenny Miller

Emily Wells—Joan of Ark