I make movies for Philadelphia Weekly sometimes

Here are a couple:

Promtrash at Bob & Barbara's



This one didn't go on PhiladelphiaWeekly.com for obvious reasons.

Flashlight Tag becomes Cinco de Mayo

P.S. I wrote a review of this British band The Horrors

The Horrors have always walked a delicate tightrope between ridiculous and authentic gothic rock. In spite of gimmicky names like Joseph Von Grimm and Spider Webb (you read right), their music is good, eerie, and deliberately dark, showing undercurrents of Interpol and Deerhunter with an occasional punky edge ala The Sex Pistols. On their sophomore effort, Primary Colours, this team of Bath boys reveals more maturity and professionalism with their efforts.

On opener "Mirror's Image," a slow buildup to the drums and distorted guitar hints at The Smiths’ creepier moments or a more talented She Wants Revenge. The second track, "Three Decades," sounds like surf rock fed through an Addams Family filter while lead singer Faris Badwan's voice reaches out over the steady percussion of Coffin Joe. The record's highlight is the stellar "Who Can Say," in which Badwan channels Ian Curtis beautifully. It's no wonder that their tour often includes a cover of Joy Division's "No Love Lost." With a nearly monotone delivery over languidly soaring key distortion and guitar battery, The Horrors wear their love for this music on their stinky, patched-together leather jacket sleeves.

Even if you didn't wear baggy JNCOs and Cure shirts in high school, The Horrors’ earnest love for and execution of goth is easy to appreciate. And with the NME stamp of approval and bill-sharing with the likes of Arctic Monkeys, Crystal Castles and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, this quintet may be on their way to mainstream appreciation with Primary Colours whether they like it or not. Now THAT is horrific.

THE REALLY REAL DEAL.

Oh, I did this thing about Of Montreal a couple weeks ago

20 Things I Saw Last Night At The OMG Visual Shit Show By Of Montreal
By Bill Chenevert, Make Major Moves intern

1. Lead Of Montreal madman Kevin Barnes wore dramatic silver eye makeup.
2. And tighter than skin-tight black pants.
3. And a blousey teal silk leisure shirt.
4. With purple blazer.
5. And matching neck scarf/tie.
6. The girl on keys wore a miniature black prom dress.
7. With aqua leggings.
8. A 12-string guitar.
9. Angel wings.
10. “Rapture Rapes the Muses,” the band’s third song, was accompanied by a trio of dancers in nude suits.
11. And a guy in a hot pink leotard.
12. A new song called “Coquette, Coquette” was accompanied by the same dancing trio dressed as blond men/women who posed, angry and howling, with arms outstretched.
13. Crowd surfing.
14. Dry ice.
15. More Dry ice.
16. Barnes in a suit that looked like a pine tree. It was smoking. Looked like Christmas. On fire.
17. Sexy George Washington Santas, in crushed red velvet and embellished lace collars.
18. In gas masks on.
19. A tall kitten-headed man became an applause meter during the encore.
20. “She’s a Rejector” from Hissing Fauna closed out the night before Barnes took it upon himself to face-plant into the drum set.

Show was fantastic.

THE REAL DEAL.

My 30 Second Record Reviews in Philly Weekly

On the Record: Bob Dylan, New York Dolls and More
Settle, Apostle of Hustle, Ben Harper and Relentless7, Electric Owls, The Secret Handshake, My Favorite Highway all have new records.

By PW Staff

Settle At Home We Are Tourists
Sounds like: Easton, Pa., boys inspired by social network sites and dance punk.
Free association: Cleverness; carabiners on jeans.
For fans of: House parties.

Apostle of Hustle Eats Darkness
Sounds like: Dreamy Canuck rock with fits of manic poeticism and a dash of Cuba.
Free association: Toronto indie-rock royalty.
For fans of: Stars.

Ben Harper and Relentless7 White Lies for Dark Times
Sounds like: Slide guitar maven going strong with a new band; funk, blues, folk, rock.
Free association: Laura Dern; huge in Australia, not here.
For fans of: Taj Mahal.

Electric Owls Ain’t Too Bright
Sounds like: Guy from Comas breaks up with NYC, finds solace in NC mountains.
Free association: Strummy, synthy storm of guitar pop.
For fans of: Rogue Wave, Neutral Milk Hotel.

My Favorite Highway How to Call a Bluff
Sounds like: Virginia Christians in love with ‘90s pop radio emulating Maroon 5.
Free association: The Hills, The City, Laguna Beach.
For fans of: Vapidity.

The Secret Handshake My Name Up in Lights
Sounds like: Auto-tuned pop punk; ‘80s movie soundtrack meets Fall Out Boy.
Free association: Take their instruments away pronto.
For fans of: Self-flaggelation.

New York Dolls ‘Cause I Sez So
Sounds like: A 60-year-old wheeled to the mic by his new young bandmates.
Free association: Red pleather, raisins, Keith Richards’ face.
For fans of: Face lifts.

Bob Dylan Together Through Life
Sounds like: He’s 68 and sounds it; dirty, slow bluesy old-man mutterings.
Free association: A bum singing for change in Memphis.
For fans of: “Intellectuals,” pencil mustaches.

THE LINK TO THE REAL DEAL!

Some hotness.

Did you know that I wrote poems once in a while?

Here are some I've written lately:


I wrote this one today in the Italian Market.

Untitled

I walk around and hope for open doors
Not figuratively, but for a view
Living rooms, kitchens, dining rooms will do
Dwellings that have been domesticated
For months or years, interiors are a reflection
I can see your life out here on the sidewalk
Books, plants, mirrors, flickering television sets
Oh, they have tubed Christmas lights up in May
Some spaces seem more permanent than others
She's been in that house her whole life
Her mother cried in the guest room as a child
But those boys with their shirts off, they're new
The walls are bare, the kitchen is empty, no rugs
A new start, a new space, a new neighborhood
I've been relocating and hunting for years
For the right spot, a home for good
I year for permanence of some kind
It seems like that place will be a house with a yard
Maybe a lover, some animals, big furniture
I'll be sure to leave the front door open here and there
So some boy on a walk's heart will swell


Dorky music enthusiast poem:

Untitled

There's nothing quite like it
When you love a record or a singer so much
That you watch where they're playing
Maybe you buy a ticket months ahead
Even drop a couple hundred
It doesn't matter what's going on in your life
You will plan around it
Just to catch a musician in person
As if some kind of miracle will be performed
If you don't get there you'll die a little inside
The next time they're in town might be years from now
This songwriter who has changed your life a little
She might just go cray or stop touring
Sometimes it's tough to prioritize
Even flipping through the Weekly
You can spot ten shows you'd like to see
But you sat on the couch and smoked bowls instead
I've never seen her before, always wishing and imagining
To think that I'm writing about it for an audience
It makes the night even more exciting
It's my responsibility to pay good attention, take it all in
Helpful, that I know almost all of her records by heart
And adore them, absolutely worship them


I wrote this on the bus:

Untitled

The biggest man I've ever seen on a bus
Wears a black t-shirt and leans over his belly
He digs through his canvas tote full of shit
Finds his discman and places it on the seat next to him
Then his CD of choice, then back in for the headphones
He has chosen the furthest back corner to occupy
He wears navy suspenders that might actually keep his pants up
Am I wrong to be fascinated by this enormous man?
As I sit with skinny cord on listening to my tiny fucking mp3 player?
I wonder where he's going and who he loves

Some recent Flavorpill listings.

Knyfe Hyts

Knyfe Hyts' Shahin and Shahryar Motia started out playing in no-wave bands in high school, then, with the help of Oneida drummer Kid Millions, began to hammer out a series of even more distorted thrashers. Sometimes the pummeling drum beat strays off the constant guitar churn, but their eventual reconvergence is the best part. Vocals are there, but beside the point — you'll be front and center at Monster Island not for tunes, but for a brazen, face-slapping freak-squall.

Note: Only exact change will be accepted at the door. ($4.20 ticket for tonight's show - April 20th; it's a special day for some.)



Mr. Lif

Following last year's stopover with his crew the Perceptionists, Mr. Lif returns to SF to drop more Bean-town slang. Foregoing the crypto-futurism of his past releases, 2006's Mo' Mega found Lif showing some genuine emotional vulnerability; the album was proof that there's more to this Def Jux crew member than backpacker hubris and inner-circle big-upmanship. Lif continues to grow as a lyricist on his newest album, I Heard It Today, on which he sings the praises of our new president in his silky baritone.



Bishop Allen

When a group of Harvard alums pulls a band name from a Cambridge street sign, comparisons to hyper-literate, "collegiate" acts like Vampire Weekend are inevitable. Fortunately, Bishop Allen's Christian Rudder and Justin Rice have chops to rival any pack of preppy calypso kids. Their elegantly simple pop arrangements are re-created live with the help of friends on drums and vocals. With songs on Scrubs and in Sony commercials ("Click, Click, Click, Click"), and an appearance in Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, these Crimson boys (and girl) are certainly getting their fair shot at the spotlight.

Switches review live on Mix Down yesterday!

The Text:
Matt Bishop has come a long way from recording T. Rex songs on his Fisher-Price cassette player. He and the rest of Switches are some brilliant Brits who have done their homework and bring their own energy and royal spirit to the crowded table of British music. Their assuring sophomore album, Lay Down the Law, will make listeners want to throw on a mod suit, sling back some pints, and get all sweaty at a random rock show in Leeds.

"Drama Queen," a strong opening single anchored by hand claps and Bishop's growling delivery, evokes the cheeky raunch of Louis the XIV. The royal theme provides playful lyrics and the choral background vocals hint at Gorillaz circa Demon Days. Meanwhile, the title track is more sonically related to Franz Ferdinand. The riffs are classic and the chorus is so infectiously easy to sing along to ("We lay down the law, so what the hell are you here for?!"), you can almost hear it getting the iPod commercial treatment.

While these are catchy anthems, Switches sport a few different suits before the record is over. They make a better version of The Killer’s "Mr. Brightside" with "Coming Down," borrowing from Metric synths and Rivers Cuomo vocal stylings. Jimmy G's almost disco drumming helps add to a timeless UK flavor that could've rocked a Liverpool basement bar in '72. "Message from Yuz," the title track of their debut EP, is a gem worthy of Bowie or Jagger, with Bishop fine-tuning a dance friendly strut that screams sex and classic punk. Ollie Thomas' lead guitar work shines on The Law's deeper tracks. The Brian Wilson-inspired surf rock anthem, "Lovin It," features a stellar solo reminiscent of their former tour partners, The Darkness.

Whether they don a mod suit or a Mohawk, it doesn't matter because Switches have created a strong case for themselves with Lay Down the Law. Bishop and his mates can throw back a few knowing they've made their own impressive contribution to the endless Brit rock beat down.


The Link: Switches' Lay Down the Law

A video:

Check out some Philly Weekly videos I've done.

Promtrash.

Tickley Feather.

Ape School.

No, they didn't!

I saw Neko Case at the Keswick Theatre in North Philly and wrote about it for Philadelphia Weekly's music blog, Make Major Moves. Check it out!

A good song pops into your head at unexpected moments. A line, a verse, a chorus that you suddenly realize is brilliant when you’re not listening to it. Neko Case has dozens of phrases that are so striking, and when you listen to her records as much as I have, titles are insignificant. Many will cite her opening track to “Middle Cyclone,” “This Tornado Loves You,” where Case embodies a tornado’s destructive capacity but in a loving way. “Carved your name across three counties” is an act of devotion. She closed her 16-song set at the Keswick on Friday night with this one but that was by no means the end of her show. A standing ovation brought her and her band back onstage for a five song encore. Her crystal clear voice and the power in which she controls it had the North Philly audience begging for more.

She played primarily songs from her latest album Middle Cyclone, some of them to great effect with her full, loud band that filled every corner of 91 year old theatre. She opened with Fox Confessor Brings the Flood gem “Maybe Sparrow” while cartoon imagery filled a canvas behind her and her stellar team of co-conspirators. With a wicked slide guitar, stand-up bass, electric bass, drums and a backup vocalist to support her, “I’m an Animal” achieved the apex of the set’s energy.

Animal imagery is rampant on Middle Cyclone, a continuing trend from previous records. For her second song she sang of killer whales and elephants on “People Got a Lotta Nerve,” singing the convincing chorus “I’m a man man man maneater.” As if she really does eat men but not out of vengence, just necessity; nature. She revisited an old classic, “Favorite,” halfway through her encore which has my favorite animal line in her catalogue: “Last night I dreamt that I hit a deer with my car/ Blood from his heart spilled out on my dress, it was warm.” After that she gave us the gracefully gorgeous “Magpie To The Morning” before closing out the night with “Star Witness” and “Knock Loud.”

Though titles don’t always match up to the lyrics and the chorus, it’s pretty easy to note key lyrics, like “You said I was your blue, blue baby” and “I love girls in white leather jackets” on “The Pharaohs.” Or “I love your long shadows and your gunpowder eyes” on “Prison Girls.” Or on the sad cover song by Harry Nilsson, “Don’t Forget Me,” the words “when we’re older and full of cancer” and “You know I think about you, let me know you think about me too” have haunted me for days.

She played every song brilliantly, sometimes donning a guitar and other times just standing with her hands clasped behind her tilting head to sing into the microphone. She put her gorgeous hair up and down, riffed with her backup singer, and gave some much-needed humor to break up the near silence between songs. It’s not a new thing to say, but Neko Case, like the Mother Earth she is so fond of singing about, is a force to be reckoned with. (Bill Chenevert)



The link.

I did an interview with Tickley Feather for Philadelphia Weekly.

Tickley Feather at Johnny Brenda's!!