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    Crystal Castles II: A Pixie in a Blender


    2010 - 08.18
    Crystal Castles

    Image via Wikipedia

    Crystal Castles reminds me of that episode of Night Court where the judge falls for an art scene punk rocker. The punchline at the end is when he finally hears her album. If I recollect, the nostalgic moment is destroyed by the fact that her music consists solely of a woman screaming by the railroad tracks. Of course Crystal Castles doesn't sound like a woman screaming by the railroad tracks unless you were to put a a robot symphony in front of her. I draw the connection to the sit-com artist because our hero Harry's pretentious lover might have screamed a plot point or something to guide the listener, beyond raw shouting. In the same way, despite a great deal of emotional intensity to the music, there is a barrier between Crystal Castles and their audience. It's never explicit what the song is about, even with helpful titles like “Pap Smear” and “Doe Deer.” Where Alice Glass's vocals are actually words they are inscrutably distorted with effects. One gets the impression it is deliberate. Their album art is vague and their website has no bio. Even in concert, Alice explodes, tossing her screaming body across the stage, but almost entirely obscured by smoke. Crystal Castles is a band that's determined to remain abstract.

    The last track, “I Am Made of Chalk” is a fine example. It sounds like a cat being violently transformed into a manatee before dissolving into a puddle of cat-manatee. The catmatee is a thankful accent to the beautiful synth behind that. Otherwise it would be too damn pretty. The balance is perfect, but what it is beyond the soundtrack to a nightmare, I have no idea.

    But despite my distrust of any attempts they have to be obtuse, I can't compare it to the geometric compositions that give our halls of modern art a bad name. No, because unlike a pile of circles and boxes, Crystal Castles is damn effective. Those glitches and loops and shouts stir my blood. Music is the most primal of the arts and their self-titled II succeeds like the sound a of a riot two blocks over. It's all questions and no answers. They make me gasp, my heart beats faster, like running toward an explosion at a clown convention: bold and bright and bloody and fearful and ugly, with torn rubbery masks and tufts of cotton and feather floating.

    Yet, II is so skillfully constructed it strikes the intellect. Their crescendos are perfectly measured. Much is going on in any one song, various sound effects layered in delightfully frightful ways. If you're the type who's been trained to think of electronic music as repetitive and unchanging, Crystal Castles will grab you by the eggs—as soon as the keyboard has you convinced there is some kind of pattern, there is something akin to an explosion, usually accompanied by Alice's voice. On “Doe Deer” it sounds like she is calling to you from Tron, a pixelated cry to save her from the terrible fate of those trapped in video games. It's music that stirs the imagination. Its alternation of pattern and complexity will entertain the Sudoko-solving side of your brain.

    So they are primal while also thoroughly, clinically intellectual. Well Crystal Castles is full of contradictions. They sound masculine and feminine. They have the angry urgency of punk and the cold bass of the dance club. You could call them industrial, but there are too many pretty moments for such a dirty moniker. They whip the chipper sounds of nostalgic video games into a magical brew darker than Rasputina.

    The album opens with an interesting enough intro that could be confused with your standard trance fair. But then it  hits you with a wall of beats and bells bliss. It's like the explosion of a glitter bomb.Therein lies the flux, the back and forth between pattern and chaos.

    Take “Intimate.” The song combines a relentless fast keyboard melody with a series of of crescendos that give the sensation the song is rising up and up until it hits a static. Which turns into a wash and then there's that melody again… well I don't want to give any spoilers, suffice to say the song has more drama than a sci-fi marathon. And did I mention that I have no idea what they're singing about?

    I am tempted to use the word 8-bit. That's how I came to Crystal Castles, in search of bands that sample the video games of my childhood. But to call Crystal Castles 8-bit is like calling Dickens a soap opera. Most of the 8-bit out there is simplistic and gimmicky at best. If Ethan Kath is building instruments out of Game Boys than that's all well and good but the music holds it's own outside of originality of medium. Any snatches of Mario and Link will be obliterated into abstraction, just like everything else. You are left with something intriguing that refuses to be pinned down by anything that came before it. This is the promise of electronic music: We won't need instruments because all recorded sounds will be their instruments. The collage possibilities will be infinite. Crystal Castles may be the first band to really deliver on that promise.

    mp3 Crystal Castles II: A Pixie in a Blender
    Fainting Spells by Crystal Castles  
    Download now or listen on posterous

    01 - Fainting Spells.mp3 (5313 KB)

    mp3 Crystal Castles II: A Pixie in a Blender
    Pap Smear by Crystal Castles  
    Download now or listen on posterous

    11 - Pap Smear.mp3 (7171 KB)

    mp3 Crystal Castles II: A Pixie in a Blender
    I Am Made Of Chalk by Crystal Castles  
    Download now or listen on posterous

    14 - I Am Made Of Chalk.mp3 (6120 KB)

    Posted via email from Like Dancing About Architecture

    Berkeley flowers Jun 2010-4 | Flickr - Photo Sharing!


    2010 - 08.17
    media httpfarm5static tBrkg.jpg.scaled500 Berkeley flowers Jun 2010 4 | Flickr   Photo Sharing!

    Thanks to Ray I finally figured out that this is a #passionflower. Growing on a fence in #Berkeley. #Gardens

    Posted via email from The Bay is Better

    Mission Buddhist temple


    2010 - 08.10
    media httpfarm5static toHcw.jpg.scaled500 Mission Buddhist temple

    Architecturally, this is one of my favorite houses of worship in San Francisco. Not because it is the most beautiful, but because it is a Buddhist Temple occupying an old Victorian church. The brightly painted Victorians are tied to the city’s extravagant gold rush history. It also touches on the city’s long bohemianism, as the Hippies were the first to paint their Victorians in bold color schemes—the English stuck with somber monochromatic grey-white. But while the bold red paint fits in nicely on this Mission street, it is clearly chosen to mark the space for what it is today, a Buddhist temple. The influx of Chinese is also tied to the Gold Rush, since migrant workers from China built the railroads. Migration from across the Pacific is equally important in Modern San Francisco now it connected to the Brain Drain of Asia’s best and brightest to work in Silicone Valley tech jobs or prestigious Stanford and Berkeley universities. The neighborhood where this structure is planted is certainly bohemian but it is far from Chinatown and Japantown, making its neighbors mostly Central American.

    I took the picture on this particular day because it was recently repainted. The building’s Buddhist remake has gilded lion-head knockers on the side doors. At the top of the steps the glass double doors are filled with a giant laughing Buddha.

    The tendency to naturally blend eclectic cultural influences marks this temple not only a beautiful representation of San Francisco, but a great piece of Americana as well.

    Posted via email from The Bay is Better

    We Are All Accelerated Readers


    2010 - 07.11

    Here’s a little snippet from my journal from the night of the Los Campesinos show June 26, 2008.

    Definitions!

    skanking: V.  The dance you do at the Los Campesinos! show when you are hysterical with joy and you have leg room.

    pogo: V.  The dance you do at the Los Campesinos! show when you are packed like Mentos in a Coke bottle with other joyful fans.

    mosh:  V. What happens when the whole crowd fizzes over, bounding off walls and fleshy sweaty bodies all singing “It’s you…It’s me…It’s dancing!”.

    drum solo: N. When the drummer for Los Campesinos runs into the audience and the whole audience keeps the beat with hand claps.

    the Jane Fonda Workout: N. What you get when you pogo through the cacophonous segment of “We Throw Parties You Throw Knives”.

    thirsty: Adj.  How I feel when I see Tom Campesinos! sweat.

    ugly: Adj.  What your chest will look like when you proudly brandish your new Los Campesinos! T-shirt, for all their merch looks like nightmares illustrated by pre-schoolers.

    satisfaction: N. The feeling associated with having shouted and sang and squirmed your heart out. Synonyms: spent, glowing, Rawr. Cross-reference to: Los Campesinos!, “with your chin on your knees like you belong.”

    Los Campesinos! Don\’t Tell Me to Do the Math

    Los Campesinos! - We Are All Accelerated Readers

    Some Predictions About Books By Way of Some Predictions About Music


    2010 - 07.10
    There’s been a lot of talk lately about the “future of publishing.” After all, books have never had as much cash to spare as the recording industry, and look at the mess they’re in. Already it is not so difficult for a self-published manuscript to sell itself on Amazon.com. What will happen when everything goes digital? The suggestion is that there will be an opening of the gates, and the latest best-seller will stand on the same virtual shelf with thirty self-published manuscripts. The optimists claim that this is where the great unpublished books will be discovered and pessimists point to the unleashed masses of poorly thought-out, half-written tomes filled with spelling errors. But it doesn’t matter if fantastic self-published books are available if they’re drowned out by countless other books vying for the consumer’s attention.
    I’m thinking of this issue again because Chuck Wendig just wrote a post on this very subject. I must requote a quote that he included in his piece from a Salon.com article (“When Anyone Can Be A Published Author“)

    Furthermore, as observers like Chris Anderson (in “The Long Tail”) and social scientists like Sheena Iyengar (in her new book “The Art of Choosing”) have pointed out, when confronted with an overwhelming array of choices, most people do not graze more widely. Instead, if they aren’t utterly paralyzed by the prospect, their decisions become even more conservative, zeroing in on what everyone else is buying and grabbing for recognizable brands because making a fully informed decision is just too difficult and time-consuming. As a result, introducing massive amounts of consumer choice leads to situations in which the 10 most popular items command the vast majority of the market share, while thousands of lesser alternatives must divide the leftovers into many tiny portions.

    Chuck says in response, ” that doesn’t sound like what will happen when the FUTURE OF PUBLISHING is made manifest. It sounds like what happens right bloody now.”
    As it is, there are about 100,000 brand new titles published and printed every year, and it is fair to say that even the most devoted readers may touch 1/100th of that. That doesn’t take into account the thousands of reprints of absolute classics that exist. I am pretty sure that if I devoted my entire life to reading I would not get through every book on my imaginary wish list before I breathe my last breath. Now imagine compounding this with an onslaught of unpublished manuscripts, from gorgeous to garbage, that would land on the market place if the result of this revolution were a totally leveled playing field. What would happen?

    (more…)