Hello to all the Mothers out there this Mother’s Day, and everyone else whom I’m thankful for opening this issue of Crow’s Nest. I’m writing up this intro as one of the last pieces and boy has there been stuff to write about these past few weeks, let’s get to it.
Days are getting longer and it now appears feasible to put the winter coats away for good and the shorts into permanent rotation, meaning festival season is officially upon us. While smaller festivals and those later in the season have yet to announce their lineups—I spent a chunk of my last therapy session discussing whether buying a discounted early bird pass for one in Philly in September without knowing the lineup would be worth the risk—the official reveal of the Austin City Limits lineup means the broad contours of this year’s season are fully established. And it is an interesting one to digest:
Stereogum, writing this up, noted that we should have a conversation about this pack of headliners. Noting the oddity of Alanis Morissette among them, and that many of the others are also headlining many of the other biggest festivals this year, they seemed to take particular umbrage at the notion of Mumford and Sons and The Lumineers topping this bill in 2023. I can imagine them finding it odd that these groups are still around (?), still popular (!?), and booked to headline one of the biggest and most notable cultural happenings in music (?!?). It’s also indicative of the closed-off nature of Stereogum and other self-declared cultural gatekeepers to understand what is popular in the broader cultural sphere.
I imagine the Stereogum staff largely quit paying attention to these acts once their editors stopped accepting their takedown pitches. As Pitchfork’s Jeremy Larson noted in early 2021, responding to an unearthed 2012 Tweet from now-Senator Jon Ossoff wondering when the site would review the then fairly-new band Imagine Dragons’s latest album, “During this era of the site, we thought it would "say more" about the album when we didn't review it? Does that make sense?” It does; with poptimism on the ascent, tastelessly whipping an easy target didn’t seem too important, however much Pitchfork readers would have relished it. Once acts like Imagine Dragons and The Lumineers got a taste of big-room popularity, they so openly strove to become successful in a way that cultural gatekeepers never approve of.
Though perhaps folks like Ossoff might be genuinely interested to hear what an outlet like Pitchfork might think of Imagine Dragons on the assent, the bands could largely dismiss said criticism if it emerged. I think that’s fine and even preferable activity for these publications: I would rather they cover smaller acts for whom media support would gain the bands meaningful attention rather than talk about the same people as in more mainstream outlets. And, on the flip side, as someone who finds overscrutinization of media coverage and many beefs in that realm likely indicative of stunted development caused by not being in the cool high school clique, I’d rather bands not snipe at review scores. But burying their heads in the sand and showing their asses when their filter bubbles get pierced is not a good look for editorially reputable outlets and other tastemakers.
I’ve noticed this open ignorance from numerous areas recently: Ted Gioia claiming Mr. Beast is the future of culture/entertainment despite not knowing who he is on a substantial level; Succession watchers discovering “The Good Doctor” through memes despite the former’s viewership being higher by an order of magnitude; literary Twitter asking ‘Who is Colleen Hoover?’ a year into her dominance of bestseller lists; Phillip Sherburne, one of the most respected electronic music writers, noting he hadn’t been to Ibiza in over 15 years. There’s probably more examples of this, but you get my point—it’s not a good look from the serious crowd to so openly profess their ignorance like this! Read a few Hoover books! Watch some Mr. Beast videos! Binge some of The Good Doctor! Spend a night taking in Tiësto’s Ibiza residency! Aren’t you a bit curious about these phenomena? Isn’t that part of what your job involves?
Again, I don’t believe outlets offering substantial writing should prioritize coverage of the popular—nor was I familiar with them prior to them infiltrating these filter bubbles—but they should also not wear their ignorance as proudly as they do. They should be able to explain to explain the appeal of The Good Doctor, Colleen Hoover etc. to their audiences. And when they write about them, their articles should not come across as something between high schoolers who didn’t do the reading and grade schoolers whose parents are forcing them to eat their vegetables.
The Lumineers played Wrigley Field last year. Mumford and Sons were a punchline to me even before their rich kid slumming and alt-right tendencies were well-known, yet they remain popular among people who don’t know, don’t care, can’t exhibit the control needed to stop listening, or use the ‘separate the art from the artist’ argument to justify their continued listening. (Or, perhaps, some people do like them for those reasons. Yikes!) Evidently both groups continue to have mass appeal, though I legitimately have only come across 1 person who openly admitted to liking either one of them. From a business perspective, it certainly makes sense to get them to headline one of the biggest music festivals around, even though the audience segment that critically reads and digests analysis of their music is disappointed by that. For a festival like ACL, I (and Stereogum, probably) would have hoped they would have booked some more ‘acceptable’ country acts to headline and better fit their Austin identity; as someone who implicitly documents how little they listen to country, Sturgill Simpson, Chris Stapleton and Kacey Musgraves immediately spring to mind. Squint a little and The Lumineers and Mumford and Sons fit that bill, no matter how much I might wish they didn’t.
Festival headliners are about drawing in the crowds. They are, pretty much by definition, who the majority of the people are there to see. When considering festivals, I personally am much more concerned with the undercard and how I’m going to fill my day rather than how my day is going to end. If the headliner isn’t for me, that’s fine; I can leave early and still say it was a good day, hopefully. If I’m on the fence about going, I want to know the set times—and aftershows, if applicable—before I commit to attending, to see if I can catch just about all the acts I want to see, or if it’s one big conflict at 4:00 PM. For the amount of money and time I spend on and at a festival, a disappointing hour and half at the end is preferable to a 3-4 hour gap in the middle. (I will check out what’s going on when there isn’t anyone I’m particularly interested in, but I’m past the point where learning who’s playing then and there is a primary reason to attend.)
I am almost certainly in the minority with my above positions. The festivals know this too. The Economist knows this as well, and as someone who once sold a Lollapalooza ticket at 50% over face value—back in 2014, when it was only 3 days and $250 after fees—to a high school friend who didn’t know anyone on the lineup and was going “for the experience”, they may be more right than I want to admit. You don’t take significant risks with your headliners. While festivals like ACL need to balance multiple consumer types in their bookings, they surely know that for however many people who might (travel to) go that they alienate by having insufficiently cool undercards topped by the Foo Fighters playing another fucking time, they more than make up for it in more local attendees and Sun Belt transplants who are happy to go to see Hozier, Noah Kahan, and Portugal. The Man, and get some photos for their Instagram out of it. There’s certainly enough of those folks out there.
One other thing to mention here: the ACL poster above looks like shit. As someone who spends a decent chunk of their work life concerned about the visual display of information, the number of bands noted as either weekend 1 or weekend 2-only acts makes it near unreadable and unparsable for making an informed decision on which weekend to attend (or to attend at all). While, again, I’m not sure how much buyers factor the undercard into their consideration, what’s started as a concession to a handful of acts not capable/willing to plot their tours around 2 consecutive weekends in Texas has blossomed into practically 2 separate back-to-back fests. One poster for each weekend with asterisks noting ‘this weekend only!’ acts would serve the public better, instead of having them exhaust themselves figuring out who’s playing when.
Alright, that is more than enough time spent on something I’m not even going to. Time for some music I do enjoy and would be pleasantly surprised to see pop up on some of these bills:
It was probably inevitable that a band would cite a Spotify playlist as an influence. While many (myself included) fear that such algorithmic loop-closing might cut off expansiveness and innovation in music, considering how excellent many of the youngest artists getting gigs in Chicago are, at least some of the kids are alright. Californian surf rock trio Flamango Bay follow in their state's bummer rock tradition, where the weather is little respite from your mood and adulthood is no escape from your problems either. They may lack the obtuse influences of someone like Horsegirl, but they more than make up for it in deep immersion in their source material, returning deep, wordy ruminations on the world and their place in it. On this dazzling EP they exhibit artful left turns in songwriting structure, more Warpaint than Best Coast. At multiple points right when you feel they're about to completely collapse, they manage to land comfortably after all—a poignant metaphor for their own travails. The music feels like the hug you didn't realize you needed, exactly when you most do.
British electronic duo REZZETT are back—so fucking back, as others have noted, that this EP is their third release in about a month after Meant Like This and a live session from Shibuya. Most prominent to all these tracks—whether the Beatrice Dillon-esque stepper, the lo-fi chiptune d'n'b of ‘Lots’, or the de Babalon-style breakcore with a sludgy vinyl scratch melody—is the dominating, eerie toplines over everything else in the mix. Masterful work from the pair making what could be construed as a vacuum cleaner gone awry into such a compelling listen.
You usually have me at 'New Zealand _____ rock’ (see below), but it's rare for such a wire-sharp hook to get me immediately upon pressing play, like occurs on opening track ‘I Used to Paint’. Ringlets play a deconstructed, fractal form of classic rock that feels shockingly new both in form and accessibility compared to others you might refer to that way. I feel you could slot this into rotation on WXRT and, while it would work, the complaints about transmission glitches would roll in.
Part of me got concerned when Electrelane’s Verity Susman and Wire’s Matthew Simms launched their band MEMORIALS next year, given the implications it might have for a rumored Electrelane reunion and album. Those fears have been misplaced. The project released 2 albums on Friday, both scores to films showcasing the breadth of their talent (and a mixtape cutup of one of them). The Quietus has more context for you on that. Of the pair, I can tell Tramps! will be on heavier rotation for me; I respect and have nothing against Women Against The Bomb and its themes, but its slower pace and lyrical content is not something I personally will reach for. On Tramps!, the pair synthesize their pasts to create something that feels if not fully fresh, refreshingly good for veteran musicians, a promising start that includes the influence of things like the non-Stereolab Duophonic releases. Well worth a spin to the end, especially for the thrill ride that is Boudicaaa.
You’re with Stupid, which I finished yesterday, is so much more than the memoir of Bruce Adams, cofounder of the kranky record label. It’s also a deep portrait of the Chicago underground music scene in the 90s, right before the internet began substantially displacing print media and the human connections essential to making everything work, where the most important names were not Billy Corgan, Liz Phair and Jeff Tweedy, but rather John McEntire, Ken Vandermark and Rob Mazurek. A world where, squint a little bit, and the loft the members of Tortoise lived and rehearsed in might be the most important apartment in the universe. A world about putting in hard work for what you believe in, trusting others you partner with to do the same (on their own terms), checking out and supporting your peers in a noncompetitive manner, etc. It’s one of seeing where things take you by, say, diligently checking the mail for demos, finding a tape and a handwritten note from a Canadian band looking for help booking a gig in the city next month, signing them and releasing that tape as a full album in America, with one of the 10 people at that show being so wowed that they evangelize the group to anyone who will listen back in London, trying to get someone to release F#A#∞ there and get godspeed you black emperor! an overseas tour. It takes you through the ins-and-outs of running a label back in those days and how people connected with one another without getting too nostalgic or sentimental about it: only 1 person’s rent is noted in passing, and the description of the Empty Bottle before the indoor smoking ban makes it clear the past wasn’t always better than the present. If nothing else you will likely come away with a renewed appreciation for what it takes to get new and innovative music out to people and get their attention, and a substantial list of artists you need to check out even if you already know the big names. Highly recommended.
An excerpt can be read at the Chicago Reader. Also in the Reader recently, Leor Galil took a dive at Jim’s Grill, the ‘accidental post-rock diner’ that literally fueled many of the players in You’re with Stupid with its cheap diner food augmented by Korean influences and vegetarian fare. It wasn’t a meetup place like Rainbo Club, but a key locale nonetheless.
As someone who openly considers Animal Collective to be one of the most influential bands on my taste, you’d probably think I’ve fully digested their retroactively-declared first record Spirit They’ve Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished years ago, and definitely did not listen for the first time a couple days ago when this remaster came out. Have I ever mentioned I’m bad about checking out a band’s earlier works after my initial discovery? Uh, anyway, what’s remarkable about Spirit in 2023 is just how much it presages the band’s legendary 2000s run. While some elements of their sound—most notably Panda Bear’s singing and the use of electric guitar—aren’t present here, and Avey Tare and Panda Bear hadn’t yet fully figured out restraint, dynamics and low-end, all of the other elements are in place. I can’t help but hear this as an antecedent to Strawberry Jam, this the psychedelic mixture brewing in their bedrooms and first stabs at artistry. It’s incredible that such a snapshot of the group exists in this manner and can still wow now that [reviews notes] I have nearly spent as much of my life with Merriweather Post Pavilion as without.
Admittedly I was not planning to feature The Dead C in Crow’s Nest again this quickly. Then again I was also not necessarily expecting Pitchfork to review Harsh 70s Reality for its Sunday review today. I hadn’t listened before but, prompted to dig around and find a stream of this baby, I discovered their primary 90s label Siltbreeze put it up on Bandcamp the week before. Funny how these things work sometimes. You know the deal at this point, god damn is ‘Driver UFO’ a monster.
Politically, I’m sympathetic to anarchism—decentralization of power and a non-monopoly of force are decent principles—though I’m not convinced the world as it is can get through its struggles without a strong state capable of addressing issues like climate change. (I haven’t done the reading but I think that puts me in the standard Marxist-Leninist camp?) Also appealing to me, musically, is this compilation of anarchist punk from the Thatcher years assembled by Optimo. I have to admit that attempting to distinguish between punk and post-punk can be challenging when lo-fi production and structured songwriting are involved in a way that’s not obviously primitive or hardcore. I particularly liked the Zounds/Honey Bane one-two opening punch, along with the Flux of Pink Indians and Chumbawamba selections. The compilation is also a fundraiser for the Faslane Peace Camp and the Scottish Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. Not the same groups as covered by Women Against The Bomb above, but still a worthwhile cause and listen.
DAOUI—the collaboration between jazz clarinetist Angel Bat Dawid and synth oddball Oui Ennui—first came to my attention when added as the opener for Hermeto Pascoal at Thalia Hall later this month. I wasn't sure what to expect from them—or why they were added to that show—but this single clarifies things. After looping some minimalist marimba, Angel's clarinet starts ringing out a lead melodic line—also looped—before she begins improvising on top, with Oui building up a satisfying lo-fi house stomp. By the time the full beat drops and Oui adds another loop of an ecstatic children's choir into the mix, it's very clear why they were booked. Not that O Bruxo himself isn't enough of a draw, but if you were on the fence, you've got 9 days to prepare for what will surely be an exceptional night for jazz in the Windy City.
Here’s a synthpunk group based out of London, Ontario, whose sound features a more expansive take on the lo-fi sonics and aesthetics of minimal wave. Some songs that rush forward at the sprint of politically charged hardcore, others sprawl within reason into something closer to new wave demos, and, yes, some could easily slot into an egg punk mixtape. Fingers crossed they make the trip to Chicago soon—you know I’ll be there for that.
Here’s an EP from Hivern Discs somewhat in left field I’ve been spinning a bit. I’m reminded of Parris most strongly as I give it another listen writing this up. A step above the usual fare in my consideration, worthy of a spot on Livity Sound, Wisdom Teeth, Hessle Audio and other similar dance outposts I regularly feature here.
Kansas producer Huerco S. is best known for his ambient full lengths, but in my opinion he's at his best operating between that zone and the dub techno work he first made his name with. Copenhagen's Perko definitely knew this, inviting him to collab on the A-side of this single. The pair deliver an immensely satisfying, addictive single made for both detailed studying and keeping the dance floor moving. I can’t identify what makes this tick for me; it might just be a masterclass in restraint and balancing the clicks, wubs, arpeggios and other elements giving it that je no sais quoi. (The B-side isn’t my bag.)
LA producers Daniel Goliger and Choopsie dropped this 2-tracker on Dirtybird (no relation, I shower at least once a day) a few months ago. The electro-bass fusion on Cycling is, well, music to my ears, and AF Rex is a solid post-Burial garage-y affair as well.
With a resume including stints behind the kit for Goldie, Squarepusher, Melt Yourself Down, and Jarvis Cocker, drummer Adam Betts surely is one of those figures you may not know, but once you do, know you’re in for a quality time once you can ID them, such as this LP from his Colossal Squid project. Drum ’n’ bass is not a go-to genre of mine, but this was a solid spin that didn’t make me want to close the browser tab before it was done. As someone who prioritizes texture in their food and sound, I’ve never found the amen break that compelling … perhaps I’m finally warming up to it though.
Here's a solid EP of pleasant tech house out on producer Peach's namesake label. Not a million miles away from the work of folks like Call Super or Floating Points. I imagine it sounds better on a proper soundsystem on a weekend night than my speakers at 9:30 AM on a Thursday like when I first spun it, but I'm also not closing the tab on this before it's done.
Hmm, there’s more I could include to this issue but it’s dance music, writing about that is never my strong suit, and the writing part of my brain is getting a bit tiered at the moment. We’ll call that issue #52 of Crow’s Nest then. As always, thank you for reading, hopefully something above made the effort worth it. Until next time.