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Due to
the site being down for so long, we, regretfully, couldn‘t
scoop loyal CORPORATE MOFO readers as to what‘s happening and
what‘s happened in the clubs and basements of Manhattan. This,
therefore, will be a sort of combined SoundPhile for what we‘ve
seen the past couple of months. Check these bands out:
 Psychocharger
and Honeytongue @ Arlene Grocery
06.29.01
Back
in June, the Mighty Afrodite and I went to once again have our cerebral
cortexes liquefied by Psychocharger,
who were playing at the world-famous Arlene
Grocery. Since Owen (or whoever does the scheduling down
there) didn’t see fit to put them on until about 12:30 AM,
only about three people besides us hung around to see their gig.
It was worth the wait: Psychocharger played in their skivvies, covered
in talcum powder (cheaper than a fog machine, and it made Jimmy
smell all fresh and clean—or maybe that was the Dale Earnhardt
memorial air freshener he was wearing around his neck). All though
the gig, which included such mishaps as broken guitar strings and
a toy talking wrestling championship belt that wouldn't talk, they
were utter professionals. Or at least as professional as you can
be in your underwear.
Being
who we are, though, we arrived early in the evening to experience
whatever there was to be experienced. The most notable was Seattle-based
Honeytongue,
who slipped down my throat as sweet and slippery as watermelon ices
on a hot summer‘s day. The singer, a little blonde wisp of
a thing named Jen Ayers, is freaking terrific. To see her, you want
to take her home with you, but when she opens her mouth to sing,
she‘s got a pair of brass balls. Terrific voice; terrific stage
presence. Honeytongue’s on tour right now, so if they come
to your town, go and see them.
As usual,
Psychocharger was great. Alas, when I ran by Wowsville (nifty store,
nice people, no Web page—on 2nd by St. Mark's) the next day
to pick up their album, I was a little disappointed. As good as
the CD is, Psychocharger’s live energy just didn‘t carry
though. Perhaps next time, they should record live—or maybe
I should just see if I can get them a gig on TV. If you want to
grab one (and I recommend it, though I recommend seeing them live
more), send 8 bucks to Skully
Records,151 1st Ave. #215, New York, NY 10003.
Incidentally,
the band has experienced a tragic loss within its ranks: While on
tour, their mini-disc player was. Donations can be made in the mini-disc
player‘s name to the Foundation for Wayward Electrical Appliances.
Or, maybe you should just buy the CD so that they can get a new
one. . . .
Flux
Information Sciences and Foetus @ Mercury Lounge
07.13.01
I’ll
admit to being totally naive when it comes to industrial, but Flux
is fucking amazing. I’d never heard of these guys before, but
I’m eternally grateful to my friend Jeff for dragging me to
Mercury.
Describing their music is sort of like trying to describe what it‘s
like to see to a blind man, or good taste to a Backstreet Boys fan:
I can put the words down on paper, but you have to experience it
for youself. The patterns they make with sound color and dissonance,
rhythm and noise, are astounding. It’s not melody and harmony
in the conventional sense; its something else, and it’s damn
good.
Foetus,
of course, everyone’s heard of, more or less. If you haven‘t,
let me tell you, Trent Reznor would be delivering pizzas and living
with his parents if it wasn’t for J.G. Thirwell. It was a damn
good show, even if I was so tired I could barely stand up. The sort
of tired where reality takes on a flickering, unreal quality, like
it‘s being flashed on a dirty wall by a movie projector located
just over your left shoulder. The sort of tired that does not fit
well with a Foetus show. Or maybe it does. . Oh,
yeah, and why the fuck does Thirwell’s every move on stage
remind me of Iggy Pop?
Bitchcat
and Beauty School Dropouts
@ Acme Underground
07.20.01
The weekend
before the Warped tour began, I got an e-mail to come check out
a couple of the second-stage bands at Acme
Underground. My bestest bud in the whole world, Vinny,
who I toted along, was not impressed. For my part, I was pissed
because the Acme Underground has NO GOOD BEER. However, both bands
had that pure fun punk attitude, and that made it all worthwhile.
First
off, you have to love a band named Bitchcat.
It’s that riot girrrl attitude--it’s so early ‘90s.
Every time the singer, Bonnie, growled out "We are BITCHCAT!"
I just felt a thrill. They looked like they were just pulled from
a Todd
Solondz movie. They were each beautiful in their own
way, like My
Little Ponies. (Give me a break. You try to be creative
when you’re this tired. Also, I wanted to use the X-E link.)
The Beauty
School Dropouts make no pretension to prettiness, either,
but they do a mean Ramones cover. Plus, they made me feel famous.
You see, I’ve always wanted to be in a band, but I have a congenital
lack of rhythm. So, I write. After their gig, when I thanked the
guys in the band for inviting me, one of the guys mentioned how
he liked the site, and that not everyone's a good enough writer
to pull this off. It didn‘t get me any of those B.S.D. groupies,
but it did make me feel a little better about my utter lack of musical
talent. I guess we’re all special in our own way. Group hug,
everyone.
If
you’d like Tristan to come check out your band, drop him an
e-mail at editor@corporatemofo.com.
Oh, yeah, put his name on the guest list!
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