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Late Night Listening: High Lonesome Ark, Sloppy Gospel

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When I created the Late Night Listening category, it was intended to be – for lack of a better metaphor – my own personal 120 Minutes file: a home for things that might be fleeting, might be soothing, might be weird, might be soothing and weird. The blogging equivalent of sitting in the garage twiddling radio knobs just to see what might be out there.

The latest entry into this file is Sloppy Gospel, from High Lonesome Ark, a band which popped into existence last week and is the latest project of Martin Bemberg (Memphis Pencils), along with Dick Darden (drums), Sean Johnson (rockin’ rhythm) and Cody Troglin (dreamy lead, pizza)

Or as they further expanded on it: Nasty Marty Bemberg is bass and baritone, Cody Pizzaboy Trogdog the reverie on strings, while SeanJohn Hard Like A Johnson just rocks all six real hard, and Slick Dick Darden straight up brings it on the pounders.

At present they have turned six songs loose upon the world. I am going to share two:

First, the title track, Sloppy Gospel, because it was not at all what I was expecting, but I wasn’t mad about that, and, also, it persuaded me to jump the rest of the way down the rabbit hole and see what was at the bottom.
 

 

And second, Take You Home, which is more of a mellow groove.
 

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A Good Read, A Good Listen, and A Good Drink: Astro Zu

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

Astro Zu, also called Ronnie, spent his formative years with his parents, an astrologist and a yoga teacher, in a hippy/New Age commune in Staffordshire, England, but has since moved to East London. Ma Body Sayin’ is on of two songs he recently released as a follow-up to his first EP.

It is both trippy and chill; calming, but possessed of a subtle, otherworldly spark.

 

 

His selections for us this evening are a similar mixture of the practical and the fantastical:

Good Read:
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy [by Douglas Adams] is one of the first books I read. It’s got a mad, eccentric energy, weird, very English and drags you into such a fantastical world. I also got the Stephen Fry narrated audio book about a year ago too and is so good. His voice suits so perfectly. I’m not usually a sci-fi book fan, but this is just genius.

Good Listen:
Flying Lotus – Los Angeles – The first Fly Lo album I heard and was instantly obsessed by him. The subtleties are what make it special. The disjointed beats and lush string samples and the beautiful and often simple melodies. Then you get spikes of cosmic darkness from ‘Riot’. Such a perfect album for me. To be honest I could be describing any of his albums, as they’re all amazing and he keeps pushing forward his artistry.
 

 

Good Drink:
A Cuba Libre is a classic and it is almost impossible to make a bad one. So the further you go into the night and your measuring skills are failing you badly, you can rest assured. Its all gonna be OK :)

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Stefan Weiner, Potluck

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potluck

Potluck is the first solo EP for Stefan Weiner (Town Hall), self-released in a partnership with Mason Jar Music, an audio-visual production company and creative collective in Brooklyn. It is the product of extensive collaboration with other musicians and songwriters, and is quite aptly named.

Like a potluck dinner, the record is diverse. That said, while Weiner and his partners experiment with numerous different kinds of sounds, they don’t stray far from the confines of dreamy, sweet indie folk.

The following are two songs I especially liked:

First, Sardines, written with Mree, which is the first single from the record, and is about giving a children’s game a subtle adult twist.
 

 
And second, Frozen Ground, co-written with Hanna Stenson, of Sweden, because it’s a simple folk-pop gem about the joys of finding the person who pries you out of your own head, when you need someone to do that.
 

 
Also in the spirit of collaboration and creativity, Weiner is offering free songwriting session to anyone who submits a demo, lyrics, and joins his mailing list. The first 100 sessions will be free. Interested? There is more information here.

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Late Night Listening: Goldboot, The Electric Eccentric

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April 2003

I’m in library school. Spring Break is coming. We’re all too old and over it but talking about our plans anyway.

“Vegas,” I say, trying to keep a straight face, because I am living a cliché. “I’m going to Vegas.”

They widen their eyes and make appreciative noises and ask For what?

I pause, organizing all the possible explanations. A music festival, I say, finally, because that’s mostly what Convergence is. There will be a fashion show and a lot of other shenanigans, I will hang out with a friends from home (by which I mean New York) and friends from afar and maybe even some people I have known for years but never met, but basically it’s a music festival. It’s close enough.

A few days later I finish my last exam or paper or whatever it is and pick up my bag and backflip myself into the slipstream, destination: Nevada. When I get there I am surprised that there really are slot machines in the airport, and that I can, in fact, see the lights of the Strip glimmering in the distance.
 

 
Unlike Pittsburgh, where I have been living, Vegas in April is hot and sunny. And now full of people in black. We learn not to make metal fingers at each other because apparently it looks like a gang sign and attracts unwanted official attention. This cuts our ability to communicate in public by about a third.

While the others are sleeping or primping I go to a fine art museum in the basement of a casino (The Bellagio?) because I have museum design homework to do and no car and I can walk there from The Flamingo. I discover that this museum is the only place in the whole town where there are no slot machines. The silence is both blessed and deafening. The art is a respite from the non-stop glitter, blinky lights and vast tides of humanity upstairs.

I also go to Siegfried and Roy’s Secret Garden and Dolphin Habitat because because I like tigers and dolphins and also it is quiet there.

The fake Rialto in the Venetian gives me déjà-vu induced vertigo.

I decide I may be constitutionally unsuited to Las Vegas.

 

 
In the evenings we go out.

Convergence is a national event. People come from everywhere, often from places with no clubs and no scene, where they are all alone, and the only other goths they know are the ones that live in their computers. But the city mice come too. This year the LA goths have shown up in force. They are all impossibly thin and have perfect teeth and remind me vaguely of preying mantises.

At one point I repair to a handicapped stall with a friend so she can fix my corset, because I’m wearing it upside down. She knows because she made it.

Later that same evening I hide in a different stall to have a five minute meltdown because everyone has one Convergence blow up in their face, and this one is mine.

 

 
At some point during the weekend I end up gaffa-taped to a slot machine. I am wearing a Poison tank top and maybe a skirt covered in tiny silver bells and am completely sober. I am with other people. We’re waiting for someone, losing nickels to kill time. Someone we vaguely know drifts by and they have gaffa tape in their pocket, because of course they do, and the next thing I know I’ve been affixed to a slot machine.

I don’t work too hard getting free because I don’t care that much and also I think it’s funny. Eventually our straggler appears and we leave and go to find food. I eat terrible cheesecake somewhere in deep in the recesses of a casino.
 

 
On Sunday, I go to mass by myself, because it’s Easter.

Church in Vegas is more sedate than I expected it would be. The palette is sandstone and cool blue, very 1970s. It makes me wonder what it would be like to live in Vegas full time, and go to that church every week.

On Monday I leave for Los Angeles, to discover that even non-fancy people live in apartment buildings like the one on Melrose Place and to visit dinosaur bones on purpose and the beach by accident.

Then I take the train most of the way home. I take a lot of pictures I will later label “maybe Utah” and discover that Texas goes on forever, even longer than Montana, which I did not think was possible. I re-read Infinite Jest while the ladies around me keep up a low hum of complaint about not being able to smoke.

Pittsburgh, when I finally get back there, is kind of chilly and still wearing the bright bruised colors of a rainy spring, but I am glad to see her just the same.

2013

GoldBoot is Logan Lanning, Bobby Lucy and Jules Manning, and they actually do live in Vegas full time. You can buy their tunes here.

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Brian Keenan and Ben Yonda, Broken Brothers

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Long-time friends and collaborators Brian Keenan (Proud Simon) and Ben Yonda (Cricket Spin) have come together for the first time in seven years to make a six song split EP they are calling Broken Brothers.

They are working within one genre – indie folk – but their voices and styles are distinctly different. Keenan is smooth, mournful and dreamy; both Yonda’s lyrics and his guitars have jagged edges.

They each contributed three songs; I’m putting one from each of them below to serve as enticements.

From Brian Keenan: I Watched You Disappear, a song about watching someone fade away in front of your eyes. It is good company in the silence of empty late-night trains, or during long walks under heavy skies.
 

 
From Ben Yonda: Paper Match, to which you should listen closely, so you may also wince in sympathy and appreciation.
 

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Three Songs From: One Mile An Hour

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One Mile an Hour are: Jeff Kightly (guitar/vox), Matt Day (bass/vox) and Dave Goldsmith (drums/keys/vox). They have just released their debut record, with songs influenced by Scandinavian landscapes and stories, but recorded almost entirely near the sea on the southern coast of England.

It’s folk music, I guess, or at least it is mostly folk music. Folk music with subtle muscle and patches of contemplative noodling. It’s dark, it’s light, it’s beautiful. It’s a walk along a windswept shore, with the current tugging at your ankles and treasure shimmering beneath the foamy breakers.

I’m pulling out three songs here to serve as enticements, but I encourage you to sit down with a refreshing beverage and listen to the whole thing all the way through.
 
First up: Sunken Ships, for a number of reasons. It is the first song on the record; it was the first song I listened to, because I like to do these things in order and because I have a weakness for songs about ships; and after I heard it I wanted to hear the rest of the record because I wanted to see where they were going with what they were doing.
 

 
Second: Love You More. I waffled back and forth between this one and Trouble’s Roots but finally picked this one because one of their more purely folk-y tunes. Also it’s a delicate, pretty love song, and I have a weakness for those, too.
 

 
Third and finally, Nine Eight: Live, which is the last song. It’s also a ten minute instrumental which I described to someone yesterday as “quasi-jammy shoegaze.” Here is where the really cut loose and let you listen to them think, musically, for a while. Where they wrap up all of their loose ends and flex the muscles I mentioned at the beginning. It’s also the one song not recorded by the sea; the band had the chance to work in Studio 2 at Abbey Road Studios, and this is the result.
 

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The Dead Good: 13 Polaroids

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deadgood

The Dead Good is Isabella Knight (Vocals) and Sonny Lanegan (White Pulp)(Guitars/Vocals), a German-Italian duo currently based in Los Angeles. Thirteen Polaroids is their first EP.

Despite the name there are only six songs on the EP, but they are six excellent grimy, bluesy punk rock songs that will wake you up and clear the cobwebs away. The following are three tracks that I thought were especially notable.

First, Junk Nation, which is actually the first song on the EP. The first 15 seconds got my attention – fuzzy, echo-y pulses of electronica are almost always a good sign – and the remaining three and half minutes minutes of what I can only describe as a blues-industrial stew lightly spiced with poppy handclaps convinced me to listen to the whole record.
 

 
Second, Room 106, which is the closest they get to anything that might be described as “mellow.” You could put this on while making yourself a snack after a long night out carousing.
 

 
And finally Through Your Bones, because the ominous fuzzy guitars augmented by spare, delicate percussion resonate on my favorite slightly creepy frequency.
 

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Echo Bloom: Blue

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Cover art by John Whitlock

 
Echo Bloom is: Kyle Evans (guitar, vocals), Aviva Jaye (piano, vocals), Steve Sasso (banjo, vocals), Josh Grove (guitar, vocals), Jason Mattis (bass) and Shareef Taher (percussion), and they are currently based in Brooklyn. Blue is their first record as a full band, and it is a lush, complex and delicate folk-pop creation.

Some examples of their delightful tunes:

Fireworks is the lead single; I like it for the sweet melody and also for the simple, powerful, evocation/illustration of the experience of watching fireworks:
 

 
And then there is Cedar Beach, which I love because it’s a story about a golem as a sea creature:
 

 
And finally, Seeds, because I always enjoy a good solid love song:
 

 
 

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AF THE NAYSAYER feat. Myka Nyne, Imagerial Denouement

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There are actually two songs here; I’ve embedded them together rather than separately because they flow into each other so neatly and naturally.

The first one is Imagerial Denouement by AF THE NAYSAYER, with Myka Nyne on vocals. The second song has the same name, but is an instrumental track.

They are, collectively, a little bit funky and a little bit bluesy and all excellent.
 

 

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Two Songs From: We Are The West

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Reasons I sometimes wish I lived in Los Angeles, #8781323: We Are The West host and perform in a concert series in the underground parking garage of an office building in Santa Monica the Saturday night before each full moon.

I’m not going to say anything else. I’m just going to let y’all listen to my two favorite songs, and contemplate what it would be like to hear them deep in the earth, amid steel and stone.


 

 

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