Showing posts with label Robert Dean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Dean. Show all posts

Jul 8, 2019

Che Apalache Are Here to Give Us Their Everything

By Robert Dean

When I sat down to listen to Che Apalache, I had no expectations. I didn't have any preconceived notions, because I'd never heard of them, they were just another email in my inbox. Upon listening to their new record, Rearrange My Heart, everything stopped, because in what's one of the rare times in a music critic's life, what's there is something new, something different, and truthfully, it's hard to put a pin on precisely what Che Apalache is doing because it's important. 

How you describe the band is a lot of things, it's like, queer Latin country/gospel/bluegrass? 

Whatever you call it, the music, the vibe, the sound is not your run of the mill yodeling over some banjos we've heard time and time again. Instead, the music on Rearrange My Heart is all over the place, it's a little bit of the hills, but then has world music baked into the soul, as well. Trying to place your finger on what Che Apalache is doing is hard, there's just so much going on, but that's also probably reflective of why world-renowned musician and bandleader Bela Fleck got involved and produced the project. 

The themes featured throughout Rearrange My Heart aren't good timey songs about running from the law or drinking dark whiskey in the hills, but instead, run much deeper. "The Dreamer" tells the story of Moises Serrano, a queer DACA recipient from North Carolina, while this story is heavy-duty, it also doubles with intensity considering bandleader Joe Troop is queer from North Carolina, who also happens to be a polymath, polyglot, and a world traveler – I told you there was a lot going on here.

Needless to say, the record is filled with many heavy themes, broadcasting identity notwithstanding. Troop was raised in the North Carolina Piedmont, in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, and learned his craft hitting bluegrass open mics and all-night jam sessions. But, Troop didn't stick around in the area for long but instead split for Europe's friendlier climate. Troop was a young, gay, musician raised deep within a red state, so instead of battling it out, he studied Spanish in Spain, spent summers in Morocco, and eventually moved to Japan. 


But, despite all of the moving around, Troop kept playing and forming the idea of Che Apalache, while infusing flamenco, jazz, and swing. In 2010, Joe immigrated to Argentina and began teaching bluegrass.

Almost a decade later, Che Apalache, led by Troop, features three powerhouse Latin American musicians – two from Argentina, Franco Martino (guitar), Martin Bobrik (mandolin), and one from Mexico, Pau Bajau (banjo) – and are blowing people away with the album's eclectic mix of sounds, styles, and harmonies. Some tunes are crazy political, while others are sung in Japanese. There are no dull corners for Che Apalache, and throughout the record, there's a never-ending supply of though-provoking progression that simply doesn't sound like anything you've heard. If you're looking for your next musical challenge, this is an excellent place to start. 

Jul 1, 2019

No-Sleep Roundup ft. Hollis Brown, Black Pumas, ASHRR



By Robert Dean

Hey friends, compatriots, Commies, and everyone in between. Down here in lovely Austin, I’ve been busy as hell. Lots of articles and essays to write, and I’m even making a tv show. My therapist wants me to sleep more, so I’m doing that and eating healthier. I haven’t had bread in over two weeks. I miss tacos. 

But, that ain’t what you’re here for. You’re here for the latest and greatest of what the fuck is going on in the world of music. And I’m here to tell you. So, let’s get sloppy. Let’s Roundup. 

ASHRR have just dropped their debut and holy shit if you like David Bowie, Depeche Mode, The Cure, Radiohead, and The Talking Heads, you’ll freak out. How this record isn’t blowing up is beyond me. It’s easily something I’ve listened to over 100 times since dropping last month. It’s synthy 1980’s dancey rock and roll with very little fat on the bone. The record is sleek and sexy and you need to own it. 

Another record I absolutely love right now is the debut from Austin’s own Black Pumas. Think Leon Bridges, Cee-Lo, Sam, and Dave but musically closer to neo-soul without drifting into a place that’s too nichey. When Black Pumas blow way up, you’re going to remember this little tidbit and wave your finger in agreement. 

Hollis Brown is back with a new record Ozone Park and it’s taken a new direction. On this one, the boys from New York are a lot less country and more dialed into Vampire Weekend meets Kings of Leon. It’s pop-driven and definitely the kind of stuff you’d hear on a mainstream station. If that’s your bag, you can find it wherever you’re streaming music. 


The mighty dark bastards in Cult Leader have a new video for their gloomy banger, “A Patient Man” and like everything these dudes do, it’s dark as fuck. 

SUNN O))) have a new record. If you’re into doomy, droney low stuff, you’ll have a chance to see them if you’re in Texas or on the West Coast. 

Summer shows - Europe
July 30  Berlin, DE @ Festsaal Kreuzberg w/ Caspar Brotzmann
July 31  Berlin, DE @ Festsaal Kreuzberg w/ Caspar Brotzmann
August 1  Amsterdam, NL @ Dekmantel festival

September 2019  - U.S. West Coast
September 1  Dallas, TX @ Granada *
September 2  Austin, TX @ Emo’s *
September 4  Denver, CO @ The Gothic *
September 8  Los Angeles, CA @ The Mayan *
September 9  San Francisco, CA @ The Fillmore *
September 11  Seattle, WA @ Showbox ^
September 12 Portland, OR @ Revolution Hall ^

* w/ Papa M, Big|Brave
^ w/ Papa M

October 2019  - Europe + UK
October 7  Munich, DE @ Backstage Werk %
October 8  Karlsruhe, DE @ HfG / ZKM %
October 9  Basel, CH @ Kaserne Basel - Rosstall %
October 10  Leipzig, DE @ Felsenkeller %
October 11  Krakow, PL @ Unsound Festival
October 13  Vilnius, LT @ Kablys %
October 14  Tallinn, EE @ Vene Theatre %
October 15  Helsinki, FI @ Kulttuuritalo %
October 17  Stockholm, SE @ Kraken
October 18  Oslo, NO @ Kulturkirchen Jakob
October 19  Oslo, NO @ Blä *duo show (Greg and Stephen only)
October 21 Copenhagen, DK @ Koncerthuset
October 22  Nijmegen, NL @ Doornroosje
October 24  Bristol, UK @ SWX
October 25  Glasgow, UK @ QMU
October 26 Birmingham, UK @ The Crossing
October 27 Manchester, UK @  Albert Hall
October 28  London, UK @  Roundhouse

Hesitation Wounds (Torche Amor, Slipknot, Trap Them, Hope Conspiracy) have a new song, “Paragon of Virtue” and of course it goes hard AF. If you like grinding, straight up hardcore, these dudes bring it every single time. 

Jacob Bannon of Converge has a side project called Wear Your Wounds, which is a continuation of this new trend of heavy bands writing super slow scary sounding music that’s straight from a horror flick. Originally conceived as a collaborative thing with rotating musicians, Wear Your Wounds has an official lineup now along with a new record, Rust on the Gates of Heaven.  


The official lineup features some hardcore all-stars, to say the least:

Jacob Bannon (Converge), Mike McKenzie (The Red Chord, Stomach Earth, Unraveller, etc), Adam McGrath (Cave In, Nomad Stones, etc), Sean Martin (Twitching Tongues, ex-Hatebreed, ex-Kid Cudi), and Chris Maggio (ex-Trap Them, ex-Sleigh Bells, etc). The record also features musicians Ben Chisholm (Chelsea Wolfe, White Horse) and Gared O’Donnell (Planes Mistaken For Stars, Hawks, and Doves) collaborating throughout.

The band has a tour on the books as well: 
WEAR YOUR WOUNDS, ON TOUR:
May 8 Louisville, KY @ Zanzabar 
May 9 Chicago, IL @ Empty Bottle 
May 10 Toledo, OH @ Ottawa Tavern 
May 11 Detroit, MI @ Sanctuary 
May 12 Cleveland, OH @ Grog Shop 
May 14 Richmond, VA @ Gallery 5 
May 15 Baltimore, MD @ Metro Gallery 
May 16 Philadelphia, PA @ Voltage Lounge 
May 17 Brooklyn, NY @ Saint Vitus 
May 18 Boston, MA @ Sonia 
May 26 Seattle, WA @ Highline 
May 27 Portland, OR @ Tonic Lounge 
May 28 San Francisco, CA @ Rickshaw Stop 
May 29 Los Angeles, CA @ The Satellite 
May 30 Santa Ana, CA @ Constellation Room 
May 31 San Diego, CA @ Casbah 
June 1 Mesa, AZ @ Underground 

Boris is back with two reissues of Akuma No Uta and Feedbacker via Third Man Records. They’ve also got a new record dropping, their first in two years: LφVE & EVφL and look, this is what the press release says about the record, “LφVE & EVφL exist as two independent works, encapsulating conflicting connotations that interweave and become intricately entangled with one another, gradually eroding before becoming utterly singular. Continuing to tinker and toil with their sound since the release of DEAR, Boris have pivoted onward a more organic, non-grid literary style that LφVE & EVφL showcases.” 

Did you expect anything less from Boris? I didn’t. Anyhow, they’re coming back to America, too. 

BORIS — On Tour w/ Uniform: 
August 19 San Diego, CA @ Casbah
August 20 Phoenix, AZ @ Valley Bar
August 22 San Antonio, TX @ Paper Tiger
August 23 Austin, TX @ Barracuda
August 24 Denton, TX @ Rubber Gloves
August 25 Houston, TX @ White Oak Music Hall
August 28 Mexico City, MX @ Galera *
August 30 Tampa, FL @ Orpheum
August 31 Gainesville, FL @ High Dive
September 1 Atlanta, GA @ Masquerade
September 3 Nashville, TN @ Exit/In
September 4 Asheville, NC @ The Orange Peel
September 5 Raleigh, NC @ Hopscotch Festival *
September 7 Washington, DC @ Black Cat
September 8 Jersey City, NJ @ White Eagle Hall
September 10 Brooklyn, NY @ Elsewhere
September 11 Boston, MA @ Paradise Rock Club
September 12 Portland, ME @ Port City Music Hall
September 13 Montreal, QC @ Theatre Plaza
September 14 Toronto, ON @ Lee’s Palace
September 15 Grand Rapids, MI @ Pyramid Scheme
September 17 Chicago, IL @ Lincoln Hall
September 18 St. Louis, MO @ Delmar Hall
September 20 Denver, CO @ Marquis Theater
September 21 Salt Lake City, UT @ Metro Music Hall
September 23 Seattle, WA @ Neumos
September 24 Portland, OR @ Doug Fir Lounge
September 26 San Francisco, CA @ Great American Music Hall
September 27 San Jose, CA @ The Ritz
September 28 Camarillo, CA @ Rock City
September 29 Los Angeles, CA @ Echoplex

* no Uniform


Jun 7, 2019

From Amtrak to The Misfits: How I Made it To Chicago


By Robert Dean

Chicago is a place with a lot of memories. It's the city where I was born, and where I'll always cite as home, no matter where I live. It's a complicated, working-class city that takes zero shit. Humble Midwestern town, Chicago ain't. 

When the bat signal went into the sky that the Misfits were playing a show in Chicago, I went numb. They'd played two years prior at Riot Fest, but the impending birth of my second son, Luke prevented me from hopping on a plane to witness Glenn Danzig, Doyle and Jerry Only play together for the first time in forty years. Because our child was on his way, within a matter of days, I watched via live stream in Target. My fellow shoppers were not impressed with my shrieks of joy upon hearing "Skulls."

This time around, a Misfits ticket was my Christmas present. 

Because I lucked out on a cheap flight home, I pulled a few freelance gigs out of the ether. Going up to Chicago from Austin, I took an extra day and booked a roomette on Amtrak. I'd fantasized about writing on a passenger train; I didn't know what to expect. 

Amtrak is not what you think it is. It's ramshackle, a lot of weird, and the experience leaves you to think about the mortal coil. One thing I immediately learned: you're at the mercy of freight trains. I was five hours late getting to Chicago thanks to long haulers clogging up the tracks. 

As the Texas Eagle pulled into the station, I was ushered into my room. While not the most up to date accommodations, the room was clean, and the porter was genuinely pleasant. Whatever millions Joe Biden secured for Amtrak, that cash hasn't funneled down to Texas. 

Riding by train as you might expect is steeped in tradition rather than expectancy. It's not for anyone in a hurry, but instead, is meant to spend the time watching the American landscape whip by from a window while sipping coffee. 

In the dining car I was seated with two older gals from somewhere up in the nether regions of Wisconsin. It’s a pleasant experience mixing it up with complete strangers, people you'd never met in any other circumstance. I had the burger and was surprised at the quality. 

There's something romantic about a sweeping conversation with strangers about love, politics, and our future as collective when you've already forgotten the names of those you're riding with. It becomes less about the pretense of the subject matter and more about honesty. While a steady sound of Motown rocked the car back and forth, the meal was one of the most honest experiences I'd had recently. 

Throughout the trip, I'd stumble my way to the observation car where people talked over hands of low stakes poker, old men chatted up anyone willing to sit down for a cup of joe, and I met an old trucker who told me I was 'cockblocking' him because I was reading and working, but the young stripper who'd just got out of jail wanted to talk to me about what I was reading. "I got my rubbers, and I'm gonna fuck, youngblood.”

I massaged his ego for serving in the infantry and finished my one beer. I gathered my books and laptop and split. Something about a guy who brings crackers and mini-bottles of gin for a train ride doesn't seem like the kind of dude you want to argue with over intention as you're inching somewhere in the middle of a murder dark Arkansas in the rain. 

I met a lovely couple from Belgium, finishing their cross country odyssey through America, sampling our endless supply of meats covered in cheeses and salads topped with fried chicken. 

The more meals I took in with the dining staff, I was entertained by their lack of fucks. As soon as we broke past St. Louis and picked up new passengers with every stop toward Chicago, they grew less and less patient. Requests for tape, (does this look like Home Depot? Why would I have duct tape in a dining car?) or something free to drink (there's a little store full of chips, sandwiches and plenty to drink. If you're not sitting down for a meal, you can shop there for ten Cokes.) As a whole, though, the Texas Eagle staff were wonderful and accommodating, at least to me.

Waking up in my roomette, my anxiety was in full bloom, I missed my family. Laying there, watching a fog hover over craggy hills of nowhere, Missouri, I battled with existentialist, "what does life mean" moments. Dogs roamed property unchained, staying far from the muscle of the roaring train. People sat behind the wheel of rusted out Toyotas, annoyed they caught the train, but thankful our small convoy wasn't hauling freight. Reaching Union Station in Chicago hours late, I was happy to see the skyline.

Chicago was a hurricane. I had one healthy meal while visiting. In preparation for the Misfits, Preston, my best friend and our friend Ben from New Orleans ate with little scruples in regard to our well-being. We had sloppy beef sandwiches at Al's, hot dogs at Superdawg, along with pizza standing with our friends celebrating the opening of Rocket Tattoo. I chowed down on breaded steak sandwiches with my great aunt at Ricobene's. And I successfully avoided Malort. 

We hit Rainbo in Wicker Park, witnessed the awful yuppification of one of my oldest watering holes, Tuman's. We downed cold ones with my editor Jacob in Bob Inn, listened to the classics at The Exit, and paid homage at the wondrous Old Town Ale House. If there's anything you need to know about Chicago, we appreciate a good tavern. 

Pre-gaming around Wicker Park, we took the EL train to the venue out in Rosemont, but two stops away somewhere near Harlem Avenue, those tall Old Style's needed an exit strategy. Racing off the EL through the one-day "only in Chicago snow-cum-sleet" we ran to a Wendy's bathroom for a three-man race to the finish line pee in two toilets.

Because my brothers, friends, and other randoms were all in the house, we didn't go in till just before Fear took the stage. While I love Fear, Lee Ving and Co. didn't translate well into the room full of onlookers dressed in black, ready for one thing: to hear Glenn Danzig belt out the hits.  

When the Misfits came out at 900 MPH, complete with Jerry Only coming from a fucking coffin, it was one of those few times in life that when you want something so bad, to see it actually deliver. It's was a transcendental moment, the songs I'd loved since I was a boy, hearing them, "20 Eyes", "Who Killed Marilyn" or "She" – I've still got the setlist saved in my phone. I was so happy with the performance, the vibe in the room, that it wasn't a bunch of corporate dudes there to drink beer and sit in the suites, I cried. I was that happy. 

Relentlessly, the Misfits delivered. Danzig sounded a little beat up when he spoke to the crowd, like the throat pipe might burst, but as soon they counted off in their signature “1-2-3-4,” Danzig didn't miss a beat. It actually looked like he was enjoying himself, like sure, I'm making a fuckload of cash happy, but a legitimate joy that I hadn't seen in any of my times catching him previous. 

Spending the $150 for the tickets felt like a fair exchange to hear all of my favorite songs in a row as the encore, including my all-timer, "Hybrid Moments," followed by "Attitude" and finally, "We Are 138." 

I accidentally punched the guy next to me in the face, and Preston's glasses were knocked off and we spilled a few beers. Anything is possible when you're high on seeing Jerry Only do a bunch of power slides across the stage. I mean, those shin guards have to serve some kind of purpose, right? 

Despite my utter joy and later elated drinking with my friends at the Exit, the significant moment of the trip came from the bond between myself, my brothers, and Preston. 

My brother Brandon was tight on cash since finding out he was becoming a dad, Preston stepped in and bought him one, which facilitated him and his girlfriend Katie attending. That was a class move so he could be there with me and my other brother Bryan. 

Bryan, like me, is a huge Misfits fan, we both have crimson ghost tattoos. When I rolled into the show, I had my eye on one of the posters. At $30 a pop, it was a pricey piece of memorabilia. I ponied up the cash and bought one, but immediately following found out, they had signed ones for a cool $100. Being that I was already on vacation, spending that extra $60 seemed like a bad idea. I went without. My brother and his wife Samantha knew how much the show meant to me and bought me the signed poster. When they gave it to me, I was touched by their act of kindness. They didn't have to do that. So, by accepting the gift, I gave my $30 unsigned poster to Brandon. 

And now, sitting in my office, I have that poster framed on my wall. It's a reminder that while yes, I had the best time at the show, the bonds with my brothers are unbreakable, despite living across the country. Getting to share that experience with them and Preston and Ben will be a highlight at the end of my movie. A guy can only be so lucky, devil lock or not. 

“In hybrid moments, give me a moment.”





Jun 5, 2019

Say 'How Do' To Austin's The Barnyard Boys

by Robert Dean

Definitely not taking themselves too seriously, The Barnyard Boys have dropped their debut e.p. Barn Yesterday, that covers everything from taking out the trash to just hanging out drinking some beers. And you know what? It's sweet as hell.

While most of the stuff we write about is always super serious and driven by artistic integrity, The Barnyard Boys ain't having any of that. It's fun to hear a band that patently doesn't give a fuck, that isn't chasing stages or streams, instead, these are the kinds of dudes psyched to play their local bar for some friends and drinking plenty of beers in the process. If The Barnyard Boys were a drink, they'd be a cold tallboy of Lonestar; it's accessible, goes down smooth and you can always grab another to keep the party going.  

There are tunes about tractors, getting laid, recruiting new members via song and a whole bunch of other lighthearted concepts. But, while the lyrics aren't serious, the musicianship is top notch. The Boys' don't miss a lick and continue to keep the listener's attention, no matter what rabbit hole they venture down. 

If you're around our fair city of Austin, Texas, you'll probably catch The Barnyard Boys stomping around a local brewery somewhere, or maybe just out playing you know… in the barn. 

Apparently, they play in it every weekend. They even wrote a song about it. Just be sure to bring enough to drink for everyone, it seems like that's their vibe. 





Jun 3, 2019

Album Review / Willard Gayheart & Friends / At Home in the Blue Ridge

Dori Freeman isn't the only person in her family with chops; apparently grandpa has them too

By Robert Dean

In the random goodness section of Farce The Music, I was given the link to check out Willard Gayheart's new record, At Home in the Blue Ridge. While it's straight ahead, down-home bluegrass, that's entirely capable of captivating even the most stringent of fans, what's endearing about the project is that this is Gayheart's first record, and he's 87 years old. 

Gayheart is a famed visual artist in the small town of Galax, Virginia and has been in the bluegrass scene throughout the Blue Ridge Mountain area, but At Home in the Blue Ridge is a substantial collection of songs that is nothing but a sweet surprise. Gayheart should have released a solo record decades ago considering how well the songs are put together. 

The songs on the record are clearly rooted in the Appalachian traditions as well as respect for the local culture. Despite playing in bluegrass bands throughout the years, Gayheart hadn't flexed his songwriting muscles, till it became a family affair as At Home in The Blue Ridge features his granddaughter, the Americana songstress Dori Freeman, her husband Nick Falk, plus Dori's dad Scott Freeman. The record was produced by Teddy Thompson, who's long been a collaborator with Dori.


What gives At Home in The Blue Ridge it's unique and inviting tone is that it was recorded live in Willard's frame shop where he proudly displays and sells his pencil drawings. How homespun is that? One of the most endearing things about Gayheart's songs are the stripped down, honest themes of the bygone days of Appalachia, good times and bad when people still scraped livings from the mountains themselves, growing what they had to eat and sharing what they grew. 

—————


At Home in the Blue Ridge is available on Amazon and other music sites.

May 31, 2019

On Poem, Jeremy Squires Has Finally Found His Sound

By Robert Dean

Jeremy Squires never disappoints. One of the better voices creeping out from the backroads of North Carolina, Squires is back with his new record, Poem. And once again, it’s a slow-burn stunner that reminds listeners of backyard bonfires, and tall tales told over tall boys of PBR in quiet confidence. 

Poem is moody and takes what’s considered “Americana” by its ear and dares us to explore what works within the confines of genre. Much like how Lucero dove on Among the Ghosts and Jason Isbell did with The Nashville Sound. What works about Poem is that it feels like Squires set aside what he couldn’t do, but instead, focused on what was possible by testing what he was capable in the studio. 

Poem is dreamy with haunting guitars that aim more towards My Bloody Valentine or Radiohead than what Squires country-inspired contemporaries are focused on and it’s imprinted all over the record. "Stargazer" and "A Calm Around" aren’t bangers but float through the collection of tunes in a haze, which is perfect considering the vibe of the record overall.


It’s also refreshing to hear songs that that feel earnest instead of trying to catch a wave or appeal to an audience that might not exist. On Poem, Squires has found much more of himself than on his previous releases, which were also solid, but this time around, this batch isn’t as self-serving, this is a man comfortable in his own skin, but also satisfied with what he does. For a lot of us, we’re always chasing that dragon that might never land, and we could all be so lucky to finally our moment as Squires has. 

The back half of the record is decidedly more country but holds its presence nonetheless. If anything, the second half sounds a little more Tom Petty country than it does hard Nashville. 

One thing to definitely take note of is the record’s cover. Whoever did it rules. It’s got this metal well of skulls thing going on. Super cool. Thank you for not wistfully staring out at the sunset or body of water, Jeremy. 

Poem doesn’t go overboard, and no track overturns the applecart, but instead, the songs are dreary, rainy day bummers, which will forever have their places as long as people get sad and need someone else to feel their pain. 

—————

Poem is available on Jeremy’s Bandcamp page and most everywhere you consume fine music.


May 20, 2019

Get Creepy at Nosferatu Festival

By Robert Dean

If you’re going to be around lovely Austin, Texas around May 31st- June 2, one of the coolest festivals (among the many we have) will be taking a bite out of the Capital City. 

Local horror + music + girls covered in blood magazine Gore Noir is throwing their first annual Nosferatu Festival, which celebrates the 90th anniversary of the U.S. release of the most influential silent horror films of all time — Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.

If you’re a weird horror nerd like me, this gives my soul a boner. Of all of the iconic figures in horror, Nosferatu remains one of the creepiest still. Whatever the combination of the black and white, the way Max Shrek pulled off Count Orlak, whatever – it’s still 100% viable almost a century later. 

The festival will have a whole load of shit to do: screenings, music, burlesque, games, costume contests, vendors, and photo ops.

“Nosferatu is a film that unites the community; whether you’re a punk, or a goth or just a fan of horror films,” says, Mitch Rafter of Gore Noir Magazine. “The film brings people together.” Mitch is also the creator and producer of the Nosferatu Gore Noir Edition.

(Spoiler: I’ve seen it, and it’s sick. If you don’t believe me, go look at the Nightmare on Elm Street special edition. I wrote the spread for that issue.)

Here’s what information was leaked from the crypt: 

The kick-off will be at Kick Butt Coffee on Friday night followed by 2 full days at 4th Tap Brewing Co-op. Somehow, they managed to dig up three different versions of Nosferatu, including one with live score by the Invincible Czars, and another that will be the “Gore Noir Edition” with an all-new soundtrack by Austin composer/musician Steven Canham.

And the other fun stuff includes sideshow performers, burlesque (wouldn’t be a fest without that, now would it?), live tunes by the skate punk band Nosfera II, and of course, Nosferatu screening all night. There’s also a coffin race, a costume contest and a whole bunch of other nerdy things that go bump in the night. 

If you see me there, say hey and I’ll buy you a beer.



Tickets and VIP packages are available now at nosferatufestival.com.

May 6, 2019

No Sleep Roundup: Cave In, Jericho Woods, Sara Trunzo, Culture Abuse



By Robert Dean

Looking for some new music? My inbox has been overflowing, so let’s do the roundup. Last week, I ventured to Chicago to see a show I always dreamt about but never thought I’d get to see: The Misfits. I saw Jerry Only, Glenn Danzig and good ole’ guitar puncher himself, Doyle. I’m going to write this up into a long form piece, so stay tuned for that. 

But, for now: 

Cave In’s newest and (probably last) record, Final Transmission will hit the streets on June 7th. It’s a mixture of the Until Your Heart Stops hardcore, but a lot of the out there Jupiter stuff, as well. Gone-way-too-soon bassist Caleb Scofield appears on all of the tracks. From what interviews and press releases tell me, the band were all torn up when finishing the record, and rightfully so. Losing a band member and a best friend is never easy. But, at least we’ve got 20+ year’s worth of records and one last time to hear Caleb’s weird ass basslines. 


Sara Trunzo’s got a new record dropping soon, Dirigo Attitude, it’s meat and potatoes bluegrass/country stuff. I like it, it’s very “clean” sounding, reminds me of mountains or long grass near a creek. Can’t go wrong with that.

Jericho Woods have a new one out that’s a little poppy for my tastes, but if you lean toward the more “Nashville” driven stuff, this will totally bang for you. It’s not cheesy whatsoever, but it does have to those massive harmonized hooks that people love to holler along with. It reminded me Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s “Fishin’ in The Dark” – so if you love that late 1980’s – early 1990’s country, you’re going to love this. 


Speaking of Stephen Brodsky of Cave In, New Idea Society is back for their first record in a few years. Think shoegaze played by a bunch of hardcore dudes. It’s frantic, heavy and quenches a thirst when waiting for new stuff from We Lost The Sea

Three records you should really listen to: 


All of the bands are out on tour and instead of just being lazy and firing up the good ole’ Spotify, get your fat ass to a show. 

If you’ve got an itch for stuff that sounds like Depeche Mode, The Cure, or other awesome synthy bands, Drab Majesty has a new record dropping this summer. This stuff is unbelievably pleasing. If you’ve ever spent a night drunk out of your mind dancing with goths at 3am, this will speak to you on a different level. 


If you’re sitting on public transportation and want to beat the ever-loving shit out of the person next to you, put this on: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76WDd27SWtM&feature=youtu.be

It’s Full of Hell’s newest and boy is it not for beginners into metal. 

If you were psyched on whack ass Vampire Weekend dropping a new record, get hip to the new Culture Abuse, it’s a more realized, non-shitty version of what those preppy nerds are doing. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i6zm0qp8TQU&feature=youtu.be

Plus, Culture Abuse is going on tour, like all summer. You’ll get to enjoy music that’s not next to some asshole in salmon-colored shorts. 

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