Using multiple guitar petals, MPC and drum machines to create a truly unique and irresistible style, Bosco Delrey mixing up sounds reminiscent of Sun Records and Motown, along-side 70′s inspired Brazilian rock, lo-fi guitar twang, modern day dance-hall and electro. He’s getting plenty of praise from Mad Decent label honcho Diplo, who called him “a sort of garbage can Elvis from New Jersey… a teaspoon of craziness, a punch of rockabilly, and a full cup of soul dressed in a leather jacket.”

EF: You’re originally from Jersey but have spent the last few years in Memphis, TN.  Has living there had any impact on your sound?

BDR: More like the last year than few years.  I came here to finish up the album and ended up staying.  I’ve written a few records worth of demos since I’ve been here, but most everything on the new album was originally done in Brooklyn.  I don’t know what kind of impact Memphis has had, but as far as I can tell, the newer songs are denser lyrically.

EF: You recently joined the Mad Decent family, how did that end up happening?

BDR: I was working with 77Klash on some tracks and he had a connection with Mad Decent through the Major Lazer project.  Klash was the original MC for that before he left to work on his own album.  I ended up going to a studio session where Skerritt Bwoy was rapping on a Rusko beat and Diplo was running the show.  They’d heard a Chuck Berry cover I’d done and were into it.  Things evolved from there.

EF: How was the tour with Magic Kids?  Were they actually magic?

BDR: Were they actually Magic?  Of course.  We all went in the same van and I would sit there wondering whatever happened to band brawls and power struggles.  They all got along though and it was pretty strange.  Their shows were really tight and I started wondering what it’d be like to play with other musicians.

EF: You’re debut album, “Everybody Wah” is coming out in March.  What does the title mean?  It sounds like some old 60s call to dance, like “everybody twist” or “everybody do the duck.”

BDR: It definitely has nothing to do with the 60’s or dancing.  It’s more of a mental thing.

EF: What influences your sound?  Bands, artists, books, science?

BDR: All those things.  I’m not the type of musician that plays one style only no matter what the song or the circumstance.  I pull from the environment.

EF: Tell me about your leather jacket with Salvador Dali’s face spray painted on it

BDR: It’s home made.

EF: Any last words for the kids?

BDR: Quit mumbling.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tq-Gaby6LQs

DragonForce shred;  there is really no better way to describe exactly what it is they do.  So if somebody asks “what does that band DragonForce sound like?”  you can reply that they are the sound of pure shred.  They may be a little campy, but so what?  Half the metal bands out there today suck so incredibly bad that I’d rather hear a bunch of Englishmen wailing on their instruments much more than a bunch of dudes from Ohio who still live in their parents basements trying to improve upon Norwegian black metal.

Their new live album, “Twilight Dementia,” is out, and pretty much makes Yngwie Malmsteen look like a huge pussy.

Stream the whole thing here.

#2

Speaking of camp: the first Jewish rap album EVER, from 1978.

#3

And speaking of Jewish: The Idelsohn Society has put together this very impressive compilation titled “Black Sabbath,” that includes luminaries like Billie Holiday, Eartha Kitt, Aretha Franklin, and Nina Simone covering Jewish songs.

I know it’s only September, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say that there is no compilation that will come out this year that is more necessary to own.

#4

Crystal Stilts are set to put out their newest LP in 2011, and were kind enough to give us a taste of what’s to come.  Definitely a fuller sound from this first single than previous releases.  Fans of Joy Division, jangle pop, and stuff from New Zealand (by way of Brooklyn), prepare to be made very happy.

Listen: Crystal Stilts – “Shake the Shackles”

#5

I’m one of those people that likes dance music, but doesn’t like to dance.  I’m also a fan of music labeled as “dance music” that (to me) doesn’t sound much like dance music.  Therefore, I am really into the forthcoming compilation, “F*>k Dance Let’s Art – Sounds From a New American Underground”.

There are plenty of “names” on this thing (Crystal Castles and Animal Collective), but it’s the tracks by lesser knowns (for lack of a better term) like Washed Out, Small Black, and Hideous Men, that make this album even more worth the purchase.

Listen: Hideous Men – “Tangled”

#1 The Indie Rock Credit Card

I spent the weekend off the grid — and by “off the grid” I mean an hour or more outside of New York.  It was peaceful, it was quiet and it just so happens I was gone the night that Spiritualized played Radio City Music Hall, performing Jason Pierce’s classic 1997 album Ladies and Gentleman We are Floating in Space.

It was a bummer that I couldn’t make the event, but the Internet told me I could watch it live over at Spin.com at no cost, but I’d have to give up my personal information to American Express.

All I had to do was “Like” the Zync card from American Express, and by liking it, I gave American Express access to all the personal information stored within my Facebook account.

Data mining on social networking websites is an old story; Mark Zuckerberg is the new Big Brother, so I shouldn’t be surprised that a media outlet like Spin would team up with a credit card company.

But wait!  It isn’t only Spin! Did you watch The National, The Black Keys, or The Flaming Lips from the comfort of your Macbook?  Thank American Express.  Also, plan to watch the Terry Gilliam produced webcast of The Arcade Fire at Madison Square Garden?  Guess who wants you to “Like” them?  Also, want to submit a link to Boing Boing?  Guess who you get to go through?

Yuppers!  Give up your soul to American Express Zync if you want Boing Boing to pimp your shit.

So, what’s the deal?  Why is there suddenly an indie rock credit card, and what does it do? Does it buy me limited edition records?  Does it make me vegan scones? I looked at the website, no big news there.  Instead, for now, I chalk it up to a few overpaid marketing “gurus” who all figured that if you have enough money to see bands mentioned above, you are probably willing to ruin your credit score paying for the tickets.

#2

Okay, I’m a sucker for Best Coast.   It’s simple and catchy and reminds me of the music that girls in high school who wouldn’t talk to me used to listen to (Helium, Teenbeat Records stuff, etc.).  Do I see myself caring beyond this first album?  Not so sure, but I’ve been surprised before.

#3 Speaking of Best Coast…

Last month I became obsessed with the remixes of Woodsist bands like Woods and The Fresh & Onlys with hip hop, done by the California based Al Lover.  This month, Lover returns, this time mixing East Bay emcee Alexander Spit with the sweet sounds of Bethany Cosentino.

#4
Here is the deal on Prince Rama:  dude is raised on a Hare Krishna commune—>listens obsessively to Werner Herzog films scored by Popol Vuh—>decides he wants to mix that sound it with a dose of God’s Money era Gang Gang Dance—>becomes friends with folks from Animal Collective—>records album in Kurt Vonnegut’s grandson’s cabin—>sets up Fall tour with Deakin of Animal Collective.

Listen: Prince Rama – “Lightening Fossil”

#5 Black Mountain/Black Angels to tour

I called this tour four years ago, when I was equally obsessed with the debut albums by both, and they were all part of the “Year of Bands With Black in Their Name,” and also it was the summer I smoked a lot of pot.

The Dropout Boogie Tour with The Black Angels and Black Mountain
10/28/10 Chicago, IL – Metro
10/30/10 Buffalo, NY – Tralf Music Hall
10/31/10 Toronto, ON – Phoenix Concert Theatre
11/01/10 Montreal, QC – La Tulipe
11/02/10 Boston, MA – Paradise
11/03/10 New York, NY – Bowery Ballroom
11/06/10 Philadelphia, NY – Theatre of Living Arts
11/07/10 Washington, DC – 9:30 Club
11/09/10 Louisville, KY – Headliners
11/10/10 Asheville, NC – Grey Eagle
11/11/10 Nashville, TN – Mercy Lounge
11/12/10 Atlanta, GA – The Earl
11/13/10 Orlando, FL – The Social
11/15/10 Birmingham, AL – The Bottletree
11/16/10 New Orleans, LA – Tipitina’s
11/17/10 Houston, TX – Warehouse Live
11/19/10 Austin, TX – La Zona Rosa
11/20/10 Dallas, TX – Kessler Theater
11/24/10 Los Angeles, CA – El Rey Theatre
11/26/10 San Francisco, CA – The Fillmore
11/28/10 Portland, OR – Wonder Ballroom
11/29/10 Seattle, WA – The Showbox

While I haven’t cared about the Vans Warped Tour since Bill Clinton was in office, it is incredibly sad to read about the 26-year-old attendee who died, probably from dehydration, during the tour’s recent stop in 100+ degrees Bonner Springs, KS (right outside of Kansas City, MO).

Sadder, even, are reports that water was unavailable to most patrons for less than TEN DOLLARS.

While that might be true, it seems everybody is rushing to cover their asses.  The venue was quick to put condolences on the front page of their website, and when I called for a statement, nobody was available to comment.

While it’s too early to say what the actual cause of death was, I am shocked by the quickness with which the Warped Tour places blame on the victim.

Totally not punk as fuck, Warped Tour.

1.  Dear Rick Moody,

Hi.  I like you a lot.  I like your writing — no, scratch that– I really love your writing.  I think you’re tops, and I’d like to say mazel tov on your forthcoming book, The Four Fingers of Death.

I need to let you know (not that you care) that I’ve already read one really long book (Witz by Joshua Cohen), and I’m starting another (The Instructions by Adam Levin).  Those books are really fricken long — as is your newest, at 700+ pages.  The point of me telling you this is so you know that I need to take a break from really long books for a few months, so when I do get around to reading The Four Fingers of Death, it might not be as fresh, but I swear that I will get to it soon.

Here’s the real problem: I hear that you might be putting out a book of music essays this fall on Little, Brown.  This might make it a bit more difficult for me to pick up The Four Fingers of Death, because, frankly, you’ve become one of my favorite music writers over the last few months. Your “Swinging Modern Sounds” column on The Rumpus is always (excuse the expression) sick as shit, and I think your essay in the latest music issue of The Believer, “The Gospel of the Drum Machine,” was also incredibly thoughtful.  It was probably my favorite part of the entire issue, and I thank you for that.

2.  If I had heard Young Man in May, I might have had to leave some room next to Beach Fossils and Avi Buffalo on my “Summer Jams” playlist.  And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the songs created by Colin Caulfield and Co. were the lost tapes of Bradford Cox (Deerhunter/Atlas Sound) and Panda Bear jamming together on a tropical island.

The band just signed to French Kiss, and their first EP, “Boy”, is due in October.

3.  Frankie Rose and the Outs are putting out the record that Vivian Girls and Dum Dum Girls wish they were talented enough to make.  Funny thing is, Frankie was a member of both of those bands, so I wonder if she took notes on what she could do better when she finally started her own band?

Listen: Frankie Rose and the Outs – “Little Brown Haired Girl”

4.  I can’t really write a music column a few days after the Pitchfork Music Festival without making some mention of it, so here is my breakdown from what I witnessed on the free broadcast, and from various other eye-witness accounts:

• Titus Andronicus proved they were the best little rock ‘n roll band on the planet.

• Big Boi was nasty.

• Freddie Gibbs was filthy nasty.  He’s my favorite rapper.

• Panda Bear was so boring that I have almost lost all interest in his upcoming release.

• Pavement didn’t want to be filmed.  I’ve pretty much lost all respect for them at this point.  L Magazine explained what the deal was, and I still don’t care.

5.  “My Body” by  Young the Giant is my newest guilty pleasure.  If I ever pick up a nasty coke habit, steal a 1987 Porsche Carrera, and cruise through the mountains, I want this to be the band that’s playing on the radio the entire time.

The posting of the title track and the B-side of the 7 inch, was—from what I’m told—unauthorized, and went up on a Sunday afternoon when people were busy watching the World Cup.  Not exactly a popular time to be blogging.

Panda Bear’s publicist, Daniel Gill, responded with a tweet:

Then went on to say:

The site took down the offending MP3, but has posted an update that it’s available at other sites.

Did Pitchfork crap the bed on this one?  Maybe, but if they did, they sure cleaned it up fast.

This morning, I awoke to the news that Pitchfork had reviewed the newest album by M.I.A., and the results were not at all positive.  Asking if “/\/\/\Y/\” was “half-assed or half-baked,” reviewer Matthew Perpetua took the artist to task for her sometimes questionable, often times hyperbolic statements.

What does all this mean?  Not a whole lot, aside from the fact that I can safely say that the new Panda Bear track sounds great.  Almost like if Brian Wilson took over singing duties for Public Image Limited.

As for the M.I.A. news, good for Pitchfork.  Nice to take a stand.  The album is a stinker, and lets hope other sites follow up the sentiments.

1. Summer fests are terrible. Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza and Pitchfork Fest are hot and full of people.  If you know my sweaty, misanthropic ass, you know those are two things I despise.  And while all three of those fests do have pretty impressive lineups, I just can’t imagine being stuck in the middle of a field in Tennessee or Chicago with thousands and thousands of other hot, sweaty bodies, and managing to have any fun.

There is one exception, and that is All Tomorrow’s Parties in Monticello, N.Y.  The annual festival is a music nerd’s wet dream, and this year, is from top to bottom, a total behemoth.  Go to the site, run your cursor up and down the lineup, and from The Books to Raekwon, this is a group of artists that feels handpicked, because half of it actually is—by director Jim Jarmusch!

The entire weekend is a who’s who of fuzzed out luminaries: Iggy and the Stooges doing “Raw Power,” Mudhoney kicking out all their early, grunge inspiring classics, the pop phenom Girls, and a house band by the name of Shellac.

It’s got a little of everything for everybody with an impressive record collection, from recently reformed stoner rock kings, Sleep, to The Breeders and the band that put out my choice for best record of 2009, Wooden Shjips.

So do me a favor on Sept. 3-5: Don’t text, e-mail or call me.  I’ll be making the journey to rock n’ roll Mecca.

You should come too.

2. A few people have asked me how I feel about Pitchfork’s announcement that they are uniting a group of blogs into a “collective” called Altered Zones.  To be totally honest, I don’t really know.

On one hand, Pitchfork is a business.  While they deal in what some still consider “independent” music, they make money, and they have immeasurable influence that may or may not be waning.  So what do you do?  You evolve, you grow and you eat up all the little fish so you can become a bigger, stronger one.

Is this a bad thing?  Well, if you hate capitalism, then yes, it’s fucking awful.  But I’d be willing to bet if you were a rock chucking anarchist who spent last week in Toronto, protesting the G-20 summit, then you don’t care much for Pitchfork anyway.

The smaller bloggers (some that I read and respect a great deal) gain access to a wider audience, and *GASP* might get paid!  It’s like a blog utopia, not a power play by Pitchfork to make more money, and tighten their grip on the blogosphere.

Or is it?

Could this whole thing be the music blog equivalent to minor league sports?  Is Pitchfork going to use sites like 20 Jazz Funk Greats and Raven Sings the Blues (the two sites involved in A.Z. that I like the most) as a breeding ground for future tastemakers? Is this the line in the sand between the new crew of Pitchfork blogs and other fantastic independent music sites that aren’t on their side?

It’s really too early to tell, but it will be pretty interesting to see how the whole thing unfolds.

3. The New York/New Orleans/Minneapolis collective known as Dark Dark Dark weave haunting folk/cabaret tunes that call to mind projects by various members of The Bad Seeds (Crime and the City Solution, These Immortal Souls) and at points, recasts Hope Sandoval (formerly of Mazzy Star) as a gypsy princess. I caught wind of the first single off their forthcoming LP, “Wild Go,” and was hooked.

4. I feel awkward calling Chris Brokaw and Geoff Farina “indie royalty,” but Google their names and see what comes up, because it’s pretty impressive.

The duo got together and created an album full of reinterpreted folk songs by the likes of Rev. Gary Davis, Blind Arthur Blake and Irving Mills.  The end result is “The Angel’s Message to Me”; an album that has taken up many of the more laid back moments of this young summer.

5. The Believer’s annual music issue is out.  Always a great read.

Let’s brush aside the fact that I’m:

A) A Chicago native.

and

B) A Chicago Blackhawks fan.

Also, let’s ignore the fact that I:

C) Have always hated the Philadelphia Flyers and their brand of goonish hockey.

and

D) Maybe it’s becuase I’m a Jew, but cheese whiz slopped on a meat sandwich makes me want to vomit.

Now we can discuss the fact that the Stanley Cup series we’re in the middle of not only features two historic franchises, but a battle between two of the greatest music cities in the world.

Chicago has the electric blues, all that obscure soul music that Numero Group has been digging up, great R & B acts from the ’60s, punk bands like Naked Raygun and Screeching Weasel, and Styx (don’t hate). It’s also had a slew of jazz and pop standards written about it.

Philadelphia is a city that deserves to be recognized alongside Detroit and Memphis as one of the finest cities for soul in the known world. It has a vibrant indie scene and in my younger years I saw some mighty fine hardcore shows in that town.

While it’s uncertain what the outcome of this series is going to be (I say Hawks in five), I would like everybody to take a moment to bask in the fact that we are watching not only a competition for the greatest trophy in North American sports, but one in which both teams happen to represent top tier music cities.

Chicago

Philadelphia

2009′s Songs of Shame has stayed on my turntable since I made the proclamation that it was one of the best albums of the year, and even though I was a skeptic, the band has followed up with a total winner full of more too-much-sun-psych led by a singer that sounds like Jad Fair doing Neil Young covers.  Woods has become a songwriting juggernaut without giving up the experimental side, one of the only bands around who I find myself getting more and more excited about.

2. Speaking of Neil Young, he played in upstate New York with Bert Jansch a few weeks ago.  I was (sadly) unable to make it, but thankfully I follow Largehearted Boy on Twitter.  He hipped me to these live recordings from the show, including Jansch tackling “Katie Cruel”, adding his own haunted twist on a song that I consider one of the greatest ever.
As I listened to this, I noticed that Young doing “Helpless” gets better as the man gets older.  His voice is more fragile than ever, but just as perfect as it ever was.

3. I’ll admit that going from Woods/Neil Young/Burt Jansch to commenting on the forthcoming album full of Health songs remixed by the likes of Crystal Castles, Tobacco, Small Black, and Gold Panda might seem a little forced or awkward, but then again, so does Health’s place in the landscape of American music.  Are they the new Nine Inch Nails all covered in dayglo paint, or are they tapping into the same channels that Throbbing Gristle was picking up on when they wanted to actually make music?  Whatever the case, the upcoming Disco2 (Lovepump United) is worth your time + money for so many reasons.

4.  There are probably 6 million bands that “could have been huge”, but there is only 1 Crushed Butler.  I’d heard one or two of their songs on some glitter rock comps I’d bought a few years back, but it was until this week, when I picked up the Radio HeartbeatLP of the 70′s English rock bands “definitive” recordings, Uncrushed, that I realized how much the world missed out on this band.  Proto punk that brings to mind Black Sabbath and pub rock.  Each song is bliss.

5.  I never got sick of In the Aeroplane Over the Sea.  I also don’t mind people using ukuleles to cover songs off the album.

I’m turning thirty in a few months.  To some, this would mean I’m officially getting old, but as someone who has no fear of aging, I don’t think I’m nearing the whole “burn out/fade away” scenario that turns many music fans jaded and incurious.  I buy into the Aaliyah (R.I.P.) school of thought that age is in fact, nothing but a number, and I also think that like 7 Seconds, I’m going to stay young until I die.  While I’m not as rock n’ roll as some of my friends, I’m pretty sure that the fascination I have with music that can trace its roots back to the Mississippi Delta will never go away.

As one slowly (and in my case, gracefully) grows older, the world moves quickly by them.  When I was born, the summer of love was only a decade behind, and the music writers who were around to witness it had either finished the metamorphosis from long-haired freaks to respected rock journalists, became “real” writers (I say this in quotation marks only because I’ve heard rock journalism referred to as “whore work” for writers who can’t get “real” writing jobs)  or in the case of Lester Bangs, they overdosed on cough medicine and died.

Those who soldiered on got jobs at magazines like Rolling Stone, Spin, and Mojo, publications well-regarded as authority figures on all things rock and/or roll.  Some were curious about new music like punk, hardcore, and new wave.  Others stayed stuck in the decades of their youth and clung tight to the idea that rock n’ roll died when (insert dead rock n roller here) died.  And while the 80′s and 90′s weren’t the most stellar decades for American music, critics managed to write the history books of rock n’ roll, creating mythologies from Bo Diddley to The Boss, impressing upon millions what exactly the greatest guitar licks were, who the best frontmen were, and of course, what the best records were.

When you ask me my favorite albums ever, it would depend on the day, my mood, or season.  I’m a child of the ADHD generation, and I can’t firmly decide.  I’ll usually say In the Aeroplane Over the Sea or White Light/White Heat.  I go through bouts of playing “which Dylan album do I like most?”  And of course, the worst handicap of a music nerd would have to be the utter necessity of categorizing everything.  Can I really say I like Leonard Cohen and The Replacements equally?  Since I think Gino Washington’s “Out of This World” is one of the best songs ever, can I include the single on my list?  The Minor Threat discography really SHOULD be included due to the impossibility of actually collecting all those out of print seven inches, and if you ever catch me talking shit on Green Day, play Dookie, I’ll sing every song and tell you the personal story behind each one.

Then there are the records that are actually the GREATEST RECORDS EVER.  Those records include, but aren’t limited to: anything by The Beatles (except Magical Mystery Tour), Pet Sounds, Forever Changes, London Calling, and of course, Exile on Main St. Do I love all of these albums?  Are they the greatest of all time?  Yes.  Because somebody told me they are, and at this point when I listen to them, it’s like walking on holy ground.  Do I believe in Jesus?  No.  But if I walk the streets of Jerusalem, and I’m told “you’re walking where Jesus walked”, I immediately think to myself, “that’s so great.”

That’s the powerful influence historians have over our minds, and as a connoisseur of music, I’ve come to regard listening to the titles previously mentioned as great pieces of art.  I can’t listen to them with a critical ear anymore, as I feel like I’d have just as much luck making a statement like “the Mona Lisa is an ugly painting because…” or “William Blake was a hack because….” (obviously I don’t believe either of these things to be true), because everything that could be said about Pet Sounds and Rubber Soul has been said a million times before, and there is new music to talk about and new classics to be uncovered.

But there is something that can be said about the Rolling Stones album that will always come up in the “best ever” conversation: Exile on Main St. It’s as good as it gets for the band.  It’s the opposite of a sob story; a bunch of tax evading rock stars down and out in France, hanging out with a bunch of their friends, doing god knows whatever millionaire rock stars do, and probably living a life that would make Rimbuad blush.  Still, every song on the album feels so free from the idea of making a hit, and each note feels so loose and so unpretentious, that from start to finish, you realize this was the album The Stones were meant to make.

This week, Exile will once again see the reissue treatment.  Normally this sort of thing means nothing to me, these great bands of my generation — Pavement, My Bloody Valentine, etc. — putting out remastered versions of classics that include another record full of demos, outtakes, and live tracks.  I hardly bat an eye.  When a classic album is remixed, like Iggy & The Stooges Raw Power was in 1997, I just wish people would leave well-enough alone.   And when one of the Greatest Albums Of All Time goes from being a double album to a triple album, complete with 30 minutes of coked out studio banter, and demos that are sub-Basement Tapes quality, I simply say “meh.”

Exile on Main St., 2010 is a different animal.  Aside from a fantastic job of making the best batch of songs by the band even better, the inclusion of a handful of songs shelved during the original recording of Exile, have been unearthed, re-recorded, and come out sounding like the best new thing The Stones have given us since, well, before I was even born.

Sitting here looking at my bank statements, I’m unsure if I’ll drop the cash needed to add a tangible copy of the new-old album to my collection.  Instead, I’m pretty sure Exile, 2010 will be downloaded on the internet and put alongside my original version of the album, as a nice compliment to a record that I’ll probably play for my kids one day.