FUNK EP by Pigeons Playing Ping Pong

 Pandas Playing the Polka! Pigs Partying at Parades!  Pigeons Playing Ping Pong!  Alliteration is an oldie-but-goodie, and it still works.  The group Pigeons Playing Ping Pong caught my eye the other day while I traversed through the upcoming schedule for the Iron Horse in Northampton, MA.  A few minutes later I found myself streaming music through their website, and now I'm hooked.

I'm also kinda mad.  Seems like this Baltimore band has been on the touring circuit for a while now, and no one's had the courtesy to let me in on it!  These guys are seriously funky.

Take their FUNK EP, for example.  Within the first thirty seconds of the album (on the track "Landing"), some deep party grooves are put down, and they don't stop for a blessed 35 minutes.  Sweeeet.  From what I can tell, these guys sound like a funky mix of moe. and the McLovins.  I dig, and hope you do too.

Can't wait to see these guys live on Saturday, and get back into my own groove of music review. 

peace, love, and pigeons,

Elizabeth

Why is music important?

Hi sweet friends, 
To commemorate my 100th post here on hippie-espionage (!), I thought I would write a few words about music itself.  I've been thinking a lot about the nature of my relationship with music recently - a solitary experience, a link to the past, its incredible healing powers...

Certain songs or types of music holds a powerful evocation for many of us.  Why is that, and how do we use it to our advantage?  The pathways that link auditory processing and memory in our brains have not been fully elucidated, but I offer a plausible, non-scientific explanation drawn from my own experience.

I've never lived on the West Coast.  I have no ties to midwestern county fairs, and have no cousins who wield a banjo.  So why do I feel as if I deeply reconnect to my roots every time I listen to the  Grateful Dead, the type of music one might hear at the Orgeon County Fair?

It's certainly not a universal phenomenon.  Somehow, my brain has decided that this type of music is extremely comforting, even though others (hi, Mom) may put it last on their list.  My explanation is simple: I feel as if I'm returning to roots because, in a way, I am.  Although I can't recall every specific instance of exposure to the band, my brain evokes feelings of comfort and happiness associated with that music because it was the soundtrack to my happy childhood.

I often wonder how many people connect to music in this way.  As I've made my way through high school and college, I have yet to connect with someone deeply about the music they love.  Then again, sometimes I wonder if everyone feels this kind of visceral connection to a genre of music, and if I just happen to materialize it in my mind more often than others (hey peeps, you out there?).

Because of this, I find that most times, music is a source of solitary enjoyment.  If every person has a complex and incomparable (and often inexplicable) connection with music, then how can anyone connect with another on the topic of music beyond a superficial surface?  We can analyze the heck out of something, but in the end, I truly believe that everyone experiences music differently.

In this, it seems we are uniquely alone.

There are wonderful events in which we congregate to celebrate our love of music.  I have dedicated my blog to chronicling just a few of the many of these experiences.  And while I've always felt a little detached from the rest of the crowd (imagine an 8 year old standing on her seat at a Phil Lesh show), it seems that everyone uses concerts as a venue for something special to them...I'll never forget the artist wearing a miner's helmet who set up a canvas behind me in Hartford during the August 2000 Phil Lesh & Friends show my dad took me to.  He painted to the music; created art from art.  It was a totally different way of experiencing the show, and it was totally beautiful.

So if music has the power to bring back awesome and happy memories, why do we always seek new  material?  My answer to that may not be so informed, but from what I can tell, pop music usually reflects a cultural climate.  (Also, it's a multi-billion dollar industry that America has by the neck, but that's another story).  As a young person, it is exciting to see pop artists produce music that makes a statement about new emerging values and experiences that people of my generation experience.  (And again, it's also most likely directly marked to people like me, so there you have it.) 

Thanks for bearing with me, everybody.  I haven't fully explored everything that's been percolating in my mind yet, so perhaps there will be a second installment to my music and sociology cultural analysis series (can you tell I'm in a liberal arts environment?).  And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming...

Peace, love, and ginger root,
Elizabeth

The Lion The Beast The Beat - Grace Potter & the Nocturnals

It's been a big year for Grace Potter and the Nocturnals.  The red-hot blonde and her band released their fourth studio album, The Lion the Beast the Beat online this week.

They've also been on tour with Kenny Chensey and are continually featured on VH1 as an Artist You Should Know and as a New Artist; Grace wrote a song for the Disney movie "Tangled," and also released a few tracks from Sun Studios that had an infectious and solid Southern flavor.

I was immediately hooked on the energetic, blues-tinged, and danceable songs on this album.  All of the songs seem much more complex, musically and lyrically, than her last eponymous album (which, for the record, I also loved and remains in my current rotation of music).

The title track and first song, The Lion the Beast the Beat serves as an introduction to the album.  The track begins with a powerful solo drumbeat and builds with violins, and of course, Grace.  After she sings "the beat," it's like she pressed the play button - fast-paced guitar riff accompanied by a steady drumbeat and well-placed power chords emulate a rock epic and set up a sound for the rest of the album.

One of my favorite songs on the album is Turntable, a sweetly syncopated groove that deposits a dose of rock and roll energy like it's nobody's business.

Never Go Back, which has its very own music video exclusively featured on VH1 bring a retro sound to undeniably catchy new heights.


Some of my other favorite tracks are The Divide and Lonliest Soul.

If you've "liked" their Facebook page, you can listen to the full album fo' free!  Of course, I'm still buying it the minute it's available on CD format.  It's funny how free music makes you want to buy it, huh?

Trampled by Turtles: Stars and Satellites

I've had a bad case of cabin fever this winter.  I itch to set out on the road with some hiking boots, my acoustic guitar, and a friend or two.  A week of adventure and meditation sounds like a far better idea than taking my upcoming final exams.

These are thoughts of the girl who has been trapped in science labs all semester.

Lucky for me, Stars and Satellites, the new album from the progressive bluegrass group Trampled by Turtles, provides me a brief mental getaway from the drudgery fun that is memorizing dozens of chemical reactions.

But seriously.  Stars and Satellites can whisk you away from the sidewalk and bring you deep into the mountains.  There is an artful blend of a quiet, intimate dynamic and an energetic, orchestral quality to the music, sometimes even in the same track.

The second track on the album, Alone, exemplifies this quality.  The elevation and transformation of sound that the music undergoes in this track is both uplifting and beautiful.

And exquisite, delicate beauty, while not always closely associated with bluegrass genre, is thoroughly present in this album.

Trampled by Turtles is an expert in evocation.  The opening track, Midnight on the Interstate, has a country charm that suggests a starry and cool summer night, while other tracks such as Beautiful, evoke intimate, personal sentiments.

There is also a fair share of energized, bouncy bluegrass tracks that will have you bobbing your head along to the banjo.  Risk, an instrumental, and Sorry, a song that has a nice juxtaposition between sassy lyrics about a muddled and morbid love affair and a fun, bouncy tune.  Other tracks of note are Walt Whitman and Widower's Heart.

Although I am becoming a scientist, listening to this album makes me want to trade in my Bunson Burner for a banjo.

Elizabeth

Phish 31 December 2011 at Madison Square Garden, NYC

MSG was teeming with excitement before the show, with wild costumes and glitter galore.  Although this was the first New Year's Eve show I would be spending with Phish, it marked my 25th Phish concert.

The lights went down and the band launched into AC/DC Bag - a usual starter for what I hoped would be an unusual show.  Trey showed us an intelligible jam that was precise and exciting.  The opening chords to Wolfman's Brother cut persuasively through the remnants of the jam and reeled the band back in tightly.

I had been hoping to hear Scent of a Mule all weekend, and on Saturday I finally got my wish.  Not only is it structurally complex and a high-energy number, but it's the only country song I know that has laser beams in it.  Who could ask for more?

Page took advantage of the opportunity to roam the stage during Lawn Boy to punt some of the stray balloons on stage back into the audience.  After the slowed-down breather, the band went into the danceable Gotta Jibboo.  I always love a good Jibboo, and this was no exception.  Although it was about a half-hour into the set, this was the first jam that really set in for me.  This is a song that showcases how the band creates a cohesive sound when they jam, but each member improvises simultaneously.

Farmhouse and Pebbles and Marbles were both first times for me, which speaks to the band's large repetoire.  Pebbles and Marbles was definitely a highlight of the show.  I love the song itself, and it was played especially well.  In fact, it's been on repeat in my head and my iTunes since the show.

The Ocelot that followed, however, has not.  It was good as far as Ocelots go, but it's never been my favorite song.  (To their credit, baby ocelots are probably the cutest thing ever.)

A flawless Fluffhead capped off the set.  Note the Auld Lang Syne tease from Trey:

Phish - 12/31/11 "Fluffhead" from Phish on Vimeo.

The second set began appropriately with Party Time.  The muddled guitar during the outro contrasted nicely with the clear opening chords to Light.  This jam has recieved attention and praise, and I have to agree - there's some cool musical exploration going on.  After the typical type 1 jam is exhausted, the bass slides into this hypnotic chromatic trance, unlike the clean-cut structure of the song.  All of a sudden it's modulated and moody, as if we slipped into another dimension of the song.  Definitely cool.

The transition from Light to Golden Age seemed jumbled and unnatural.  It definitely seemed like Trey fought hard to start it up, and the rest of the band had to scramble to arrange themselves around him.  Once the song got going, I had no complaints.  Page was the starring soloist during the jam, which he turned into a funkfest for a few brief moments.  Truth be told, my favorite version of Golden Age is its debut back from Albany in '09.

I had high hopes when Mike started plunking out Ghost, but they never really came to fruition.  It was tasty, but kind of quick and not anything mind-blowingly special like last year's NYE Ghost.  I had the opportunity to sit down at the Live Phish tent during SBIX and mess with the mix.  By the end of the weekend, I was practically an expert.

A hot Sneakin' Sally and 46 Days promptly made up for my residual dissapointment left from Ghost.  During Sally, Trey and Mike sang along to their instrumental solos, which is reminiscent of what traditional jazz musicians do.  They can improvise and accompany themselves with their voice - the assumption being that they are so intimately attune to music and their instrument that they already know what they are improvising will sound like before they play it.  Wild.

During the 46 Days solo, the energy that pulsated through the crowd caught my attention.  Perched in first row of the 300's behind the stage, I had a nice view of everyone in the Garden dancing and enjoying the music... practically in unison.  It was a surreal moment and definitely one of the highlights from the show.  A fun, raucus Suzy Greenburg finished the set.

The band began the third set with a big sing-along with Cavern before getting to the real meat of the set: Steam>Auld Lang Syne>Down With Disease.  The theme of the new year's prank was objects and people floating away - like steam.  This was also the first instance that I paid any attention to the lyrics and found them to be a little disturbing.  The funkiness of the music offsets them, but anything about murder and wolves and bones hissing into oil is a little creepy.

After a high-pitched countdown to 2012, the band launched into a tricked-out version of Auld Lang Syne.  We've seen some DWD magic in the past year, and so far, 2012 has continued the streak.  At less than twelve minutes, it had time to develop musical ideas and linger on some sweet spots.

Velvet Sea provided an introspective moment after 3+ hours of music.  I love how this song needs so little to be powerful.  It gave us all a minute to cool down, rest our dancing shoes and reflect on how awesome 2012 will be.  At one point Trey kind of tripped through First Tube for a painful minute but then adjusted his key and kept on truckin'.  The rest of the song was right on.

Slave to the Traffic Light was the encore and a gentle, dreamlike ending to the show.  While I'm sure most of us didn't float off to sleep after we left MSG, the setlist built a nice arc that coud have sent me there.

Despite the rumors that Phish won't tour as much in 2012, I can't help but hope to hear lots more of the band in the upcoming year.  After a four-night run like this, who couldn't?

See you guys on the road.