Spacecamp :: "Miko D.T.B."

It will have been a long time since you had this much fun listening to a rock band from New York City. Spacecamp with their debut EP Alibi just released on Tuesday, offer up lead single, "Miko D.T.B" or, if we can gather from the song's first lyrics, "Miko dropped the ball." What emerges is a song in two movements, the first a glittering array of synths and angular guitars that almost recall the dulcet tones of Tigercity (although, for other animal references, there's some Wolfgang in there too), centering on the lyric, "Pull yourself together", a useful and pragmatic notion if there ever was one. The second half of the arrangement is fuller, climatically organized around a sea of backing vocals and a finishing kick that feels like a Local Natives jam shot full of amphetamine and rocked into outer space. Spacecamp still urges you to "Pull yourself together" but the bass line is so alive and well, so bordering on out of control, that it's hard to believe they mean it. Instead, maybe the point is to lose your damn mind.  

The band plays their EP release party at The Wooly in the Financial District with Computer Magic on December 1st.

Miko D.T.B. by SPACECAMP

Deleted Scenes :: "Bedbedbedbedbed"

For all of you biding your time with Pepper Rabbit (wait, that sounded terse; let's start over). For anyone who enjoyed Pepper Rabbit's recent material (softer, good), especially the truly sublime, "Rose Mary Stretch", you need to be listening to Deleted Scenes latest single, "Bedbedbedbedbed". (No, I think they're aware it's not a real word.) In full disclosure this owes even more to the grand tradition of creepy caring as laid out by James Mercer and the Shins than you might be entirely comfortable with. Here, she (and there's always a woman) is described as "an immaculate girl sent from above". Ditch your irony for a moment and take this at face value. The rumbling drums and echoing keys build the architecture within which a hooky, little chorus (and there's always a chorus) focuses on the title lyric, the head nodding, "crawl into my bed, bed, bed, bed, bed". Even the dissonant bridge can't make this edict feel weird. Some things need saying five times. Some things don't even need the space bar or a parenthetical interior monologue (there's always an interior monologue).

On The List :: The Jezabels @ Mercury Lounge [11.21.11]

After running through set opener "A Little Piece," Jezabels keyboardist Heather Shannon and guitarist Samuel Lockwood look to the soundboard at the back of the Mercury Lounge and request more center vocals in their monitors. Like the rest of the room, they want to hear Hayley Mary. With apologies to her bandmates, the diminutive black-clad Aussie is the only person in the room who will matter for the next hour. In short order, she rips through "Endless Summer" and "Easy to Love," her impossibly powerful, soaring voice bolstered by the sound tech who turned her up in the mix. He understands. We all do.

Mary, drinking tea from a cheap bodega cup throughout the set, starts off tightlipped and serious -- barely acknowledging the crowd between songs -- but loosens up as she sheds layers of leather. During a quiet moment, one of the collected Australians in the audience yells out "Are you going out?" The singer smiles and answers ruefully: "We've got a lot of driving ahead. It's actually all we do ever." You find yourself hoping she doesn't sing in the van. The windows can't handle those pipes.

"Mace Spray" is good. "Try Colour" is great. "Hurt Me" is (once again) briefly transcendent. Mary finishes singing the last song of night while the band's final notes reverberate around the room. She grabs her tea from the amp, walks off stage, and, amazingly, disappears into the crowd.

Listen :: The Jezabels - "Try Colour"