Photos and words by Rez Avissar

Photo note:
Frustrating night for photos. Bad/static lighting job for most of the night, overpowering red lights for entire sets (the bane of a live photographer’s existence), Sonic Youth not playing for long enough for me to catch a killer close-up of Thurston Moore thrashing. I was forced to do some Photoshopping to try and repair the pics, and meanwhile saving up for a better low-light lens. As consolation for going through all these, I snapped some candids of the band right as they walked off stage, discussing with No Fun organizer/curator Carlos Giffoni whether or not to go back out for a second encore (All friends: “That ending was perfect! Leave it at that!”).

Each band played for twenty minutes. Yellow Tears was the unexpected surprise of the night, winning over everyone in the room with their meticulosuly warped sample manipulations and sounds. Out of all the bands, here’s one that took the twenty minute time slot and really found inspiration, breaking into sweat and taking off their shirts, and getting genuinely into it. The stage was illuminated by a single bright red light bulb. The best part of the set was the member who kept striking a large scrap of metal and sending it through various effects processors, throwing it onto the ground and making a spectacle yet wrenching some pretty freaking insane and wicked sounds from it. Their energy was welcome and the crowd response was thunderously approving from the sold-out crowd. A dude on the L train was raving about them on the way back, displaying the record he bought of theirs; I have a feeling he’s not the only one.

Also in tow were Blank Dogs, who played a full-band, fleshed out and developed indie set, far more song-based than anything else that night. Sons of God: wow, check out the shots of those guys. They had two very whacked stage performers/contorters who kind of dominated the show. The music itself (and the show, too, a little) reminded me of Excepter, with their unpolished, spontaneous, often random but distinctive sound. Mattis was a fucking MADMAN. Bardo Pond killed, in a quiet way. I felt as if I only got a taste of them, though. They need much more space, much more time. I wonder if they usually get heavy? Not tonight.

The chatter before the show was that Sonic Youth were playing seated and unconventionally. This caused understandable groans among the attendees. Instead of playing the faves or any Sonic Youth material at all, tonight they joined the pack of rattly, rough-edged noiseniks, almost blending into the pack. Thing is, Thurston and co. do these kind of gigs all the time. In a past write-up I wrote ”I’d pay ten bucks to watch [Thurston Moore] assault the fuck out of a guitar for a half hour any day of the week.” This rings true, but…. this set was twice the $$, and they played for even less time. With Lee Ranaldo absent (no, sorely missing), Kim’s vocals were a welcome addition to the guitar mangling. Several times, including the powerful encore, it came together perfectly. However, we all would have been happy if they treated us to a gritty rarity for an encore, or at least played to us for more than twenty minutes (incl. encore)? These gripes are valid, right?

I should add, however, that I haven’t been to a proper Sonic Youth gig yet, so take that into account. Can’t wait to see them play a full real set later this summer at United Palace. I promise better photos then. Also look out for their new record, due soon.

[Pulse Emitter]

[Mattin]

[Yellow Tears]

[Sons of God]

[Blank Dogs]

[Pedestrian Deposit]

[Toral Yeh Tremaine]

[Bardo Pond]

[Sonic Youth]

As is our want, we’ve flipped the script here at The Singles Collection and in the spirit of timeliness, this week we’ll be featuring seven-inches that were exclusive to last Saturday’s Record Store Day (our newest all Sacred Bones feature will now run next week). Now, some of you may be listening to these as you read this, others may have unfortunately been shut out, while other still may have no idea these singles, or Record Store Day for that matter, even existed. At any rate, we’re only scratching the surface of the exclusive platters that were available on the 18th (for a full list, go here), and we hear some stores may even still have stock on some of these titles, so if anything strikes your fancy, best get a googlin’.

To kick things off this week, we’ve got a pair of split singles from Matador featuring the kings & queen of the alternative universe, Sonic Youth aka Sonik You*h. The first split features another icon, Beck, in a mutual appreciation style love fest which finds them covering each others’ songs — SY tackling “Pay No Mind” while Beck takes on “Green Light”. As you might imagine, Thurston & Co. thoroughly rough up the Mellow Gold sleeper, injecting it with their patented off-key/kilter harmonies/harmonics and some skuzzy meta-ooze thrown in for good measure. On the flip, Beck takes the EVOL track and turns it into a lovely, acoustic cloudburst that, if you didn’t know better, you’d swear was one of his very own.

The second exclusive RSD jam from Sonic Youth is their split with Memphis’ favorite son, Jay Reatard. For his part, Jay’s track, “Hang Them All” is a scorcher, a blink-and-you-missed-it track that bubbles with skittering synth and a clap-trap rhythm reminiscent of the Blood Visions-era. It alone is worth the price of admission, and certainly bodes well for his upcoming full-length. The SY track, “No Garage” is a rehearsal space jam that, well, sounds a lot like you’d figure a Sonic Youth rehearsal would. Which isn’t to say it’s bad, but it’s essentially instrumental meandering with a nice, Kraut-y groove that eventually denigrates into their trademark squall of loping distortion and ear-piercing feedback. Both of these splits are, ostensibly, sold out, but stores with extra stock seem to pop up daily, so make sure to keep a close watch if you don’t want to pay eBay prices.

The Sub Pop stable did their part and released a handful of limited 45’s for RSD, the best of which is the Obits‘ “I Can’t Lose” b/w “Military Madness”. For those not already familiar, Obits are Rick Froberg from Hot Snakes/Drive Like Jehu’s new project, and while their sound doesn’t really deviate too much from either/both of those outfits, it’s still new Froberg jams so who are we to complain? “I Can’t Lose” is less dissonant/angular than we’re used to hearing him, yet it roars with a heads-down fury and undeniable hooks-a-plenty. On the flip, their take on Graham Nash’s “Military Madness” flips the original on its ear, injecting it with a venomous core that’s both touching and destructive in equal measure. Copies of this still seem to be kicking around places like Reckless Records, so if you need some more Froberg in your life, you know where to go.

Lastly this week, we’ve got one of the lost gems from RSD, the super limited Kim Phuc & Centipede E’est split on Dear Skull Records out of Pittsburgh. These were primarily only available in the Pittsburgh area, with some other notable stores (Permanent Records in Chicago, Academy in NYC) getting the remaining stock to give away to punters who came out early and purchased vinyl. We’re not sure if this is going to get a proper release or not, but it truly deserves one as the two tracks here are absolute stunners. On the A-Side, Kim Phuc’s “Rustbelt Noose” delivers all the spit-crusted-psych-punk power you’ve come to expect from them, and has now officially taken the mantle as the greatest KP song yet. Not to be outdone on the flip, Centipede E’est offer up “Stingray”, an epic space-rock jam that’s ebbs and flows with terse psych-grooves and sky-melting crescendos. These are absolutely gorgeous, all hand-numbered out of 200 and featuring fantastic screened covers. We’re not sure if they are still available anywhere or not, but we’d suggest trying Paul’s or Wicked Discs in Pittsburgh if you are trying to track one down.

We hope you’ve enjoyed our truncated look at some of the Record Store Day exclusives, and make sure to also keep an eye out for others like the Slayer “Psychopathy Red” 45 and the totally awesome Jesus Lizard 9×7″ collection Inch as they’re both totally worth your time and hard-earned loot. Also make sure to come back next week to read about the newest batch of gems from one of our favorite labels, Sacred Bones Records.

This was a different kind of show from the beginning, and it was more difficult than most shows to get press into. However, I decided to trek out to Brooklyn’s isolated Glasslands, as Eric Copeland is one of my favorite noisemakers and I wanted to see what Thurston Moore and Carlos Giffoni (No Fun’s organizer/curator) would treat us to (plus Glasslands is a choice place to see a show).

I arrived just in time to catch Copeland setting up. My feelings on his set went back and forth. Pitchfork’s Mark Richardson called Copeland a “sonic dumpster diver” which is a pretty much perfect description of his solo work. DJ-style, Copeland deftly blended one song into the next, hunching over his pile of gear and sometimes picking up a mic to ..do what he does over it. I myself happen to be a musician and after seeing his band Black Dice several times, I still have no idea how he or the Dice make their sounds — from the audience perspective it’s all focused knob twiddling. It wasn’t too thrilling to watch.. made me think of this breed of noise shows in general and the name “No Fun.”

During the set I began asking myself why I can’t appreciate this stuff live as much as on record. I began to wonder if this kind of music is inferior to more straightforward music styles, especially in the live setting, but tracks like “Hermaphrodite,” “Alien in a Garbage Dump,” and the delicious “Green Burrito” (which I wish he played) as well as countless Black Dice tracks, have soundtracked many glorious subway rides and hazed-out walks down 8th Ave. Yet here I am standing before one of the best noisemakers around feeling shades of ennui setting in. Copeland and Dice’s music is quite visual and the performance would have been helped by something other than the house visuals. Still, it was cool to hear his aural colleges in this environment, and cranked up.

[Eric Copeland]

What can I say? Thurston is a bona-fide king, a god, and I’d pay ten bucks to watch him assault the fuck out of a guitar for a half hour any day of the week.

[Thurston Moore and Carlos Giffoni]

Up next was Emeralds. I’m trying to get into the practice of hearing at least something by each band I am going out to see, but I didn’t have much luck looking for their music online and didn’t find out much more than that they’re apparently an improv band from Ohio. Turns out it’s three dudes with a bunch of analog gear and an effects-treated guitar. After five to ten minute calm drone, I quickly wrote them off.. it’s not that they couldn’t have pushed it further, as they did manage to squeeze some pretty cool sounds out of their equipment (synthetic waves and flying saucer sounds conjuring some sort of warm electronic lagoon) but I wished they did something a bit more interesting. Then, out of nowhere with a single arpeggio it began to peak… warm psychedelic textures emerged and spun around, and the chatter in the room died down. Very pretty stuff, true to their name.

[Emeralds]

[Glasslands]

[No Fun DJs]