Imagine if, one crisp autumnal morning, young Amelie imbibed fifteen espressos and ran off with Edward Scissorhands to the magical realm of Gothenburg for an impetuous holiday of snowflake-on-tongue-catching, pirouettes and miniature pony-fondling. Who better to provide the soundtrack than this trio of whey-faced moppets known as Detektivbyrån?
The lads perform their Orff-Schulwerkian ditty, “Generation Celebration”.
Released earlier this month, their new album Wermland has already risen to the top of the charts in Sweden, and it’s a delightful, chiming romp. I just want to put ’em all in my pocket.
More floppy-haired glockenspielunking under the cut.
Good morning, rude boys and girls. Just a wee bit o’ Madness to help you start your week off on the right foot…then the left foot… then the right foot…all the way to school:
I’d actually never seen this extra silly extended version of the “One Step Beyond” video before stumbling across it on YouTube recently. Now I’m reveling in a full-on personal 2 Tone revival. Must. Stop. Skankin‘. (I’ve already kicked the cat twice.)
Join me in looking like a right fookin’ idiot getting that sluggish blood pumping with an assortment of rocksteady beats beyond the jump. Oi!
As we recharge and make our way through hundreds of party photos, allow me to draw your attention to a few worthwhile endeavors worldwide. Art, music and costumes galore await!
A night at Dr. Sketchy’s, as envisioned by Molly Crabapple
An international whirlwind of glitter, booze, babes and art can only mean one thing: Molly Crabapple has taken Dr. Sketchy’s on the road. Tonight’s festivities take place in Edinburgh at And The Devil May Drag You Under. On Wednesday, our London readership can welcome this juggernaut of a lady to Madame JoJo’s. You’ll be treated to salacious burlesque, an opportunity to draw expertly [un]dressed cabaret beauties and even prizes! Hosted by comedy heartthrob Dusty Limits and Molly herself, this is sure to be a spectacular night. Next up – Berlin and Helsinki! More information about the cabaret-meets-art phenomenon here.
DoV denizens
Certainly you’ve noticed our weakness for beautiful men in makeup, flamboyancy of Rococo fashion and high tales of adventure. Even my blackened heart goes pitter-patter at the rustle of a masterfully layered crinoline. Throw in a dress-up picnic and we’re in heaven. If you’re in or traveling to New York this month you can expect just that. Dances of Vice has cooked up a truly decadent spread for August 22 through 24. A nuclear blast to the senses, this event’s lineup boasts live music, fencing, theater inspired by time travel, Münchhausen and Marquis de Sade, art exhibited and performed, absinthe, and, god yes, a picnic at the New York Botanical garden. Damn right I’ll be there, taking part in the fashion extravaganza. If you’re an undercover dandy, courtesan or just a filthy strumpet in search of a good time, this is the ultimate place to be in two weeks.
On a completely different note, as the Olympics rage on in Beijing, my Flickr stream is being flooded with new photos from Kris Krug. He’s been on location for a while now, uploading huge batches of wonderful images, some of which I have a feeling you’ll enjoy.
Oh, my, yes! Happy belated birthday, dear Nikola. Your Coilhouse whelping day party continues with this booty-electrifying Musical Tesla Coil rendition of the Ghostbusters theme song, courtesy of Dr. Zeus. Nerd up.
While it’s my sincere hope that the wondrous Coilhouse Gushfest: Getting to Know You continues unabated, I can’t keep sitting on my hands with this one. Grace Jones has just released a new video for “Corporate Cannibal”, the first single off her forthcoming album, Hurricane (which features collaboration with Tricky, Brian Eno, and others). May Day is more heart-stoppingly badass than ever before:
Rawr. As previously mentioned on CH, Ms. Jones is my choice for It Girl of the 80s. Hell, let’s make her It Girl for ’08, as well. She’s sixty, she’s sexy, she’s scary as hell, and we should all bow before her fabulousness.
I’m writing quickly from the humid crotch that is Houston, Tex-Ass, to sing the praises of a most comely and delightful band who opened for Faun Fables on the eve of the Summer Solstice two nights ago. Death is not a Joyride is a rollicking, zoomorphic avant-pop five piece from Austin who won me over immediately with their butt-wiggling exuberance on the longest, steamiest day of the year.Their first full length album, The Human Zoo, was produced by John Congleton (The Polyphonic Spree, Explosions in the Sky and The pAper chAse) and features 45 blissfully cracked minutes of “girl-fronted dark violin burlesque dance rock.”
These days Seal‘s better recognized by his shiny dome but there was a time, long ago in the decade we call The Nineties, when that very cupola hid in the shade of undercut dreadlocks, best admired under sparse flashing light of an underground techno laboratory. In addition to an edgier look young Seal kept some interesting company. Take Adamski for instance: punk-turned-rave-enthusiast with a fondness for cyber-turbans, who worked with everyone from Johnny Slut to Nina Hagen.
Please turn your attention to Seal and Adamski’s video for Killer, their 1990 crossover hit. The plot revolves around Seal’s disembodied head, a lot of static and the aforementioned techno lab either birthing Seal from its circuits or, alternately, feeding Seal virtual reality visuals in the form of dancing loons. Note the neon, striped pants, amazing CG and broken down technology offset by Adamski’s shiny but vurt-addled antics. Could Seal be a secret Cyberpunk or was he merely lucky to be making music in the early 90s?
Cyd Charisse might be most remembered for her emerald gangster mole number in Singing In The Rain but it’s her serpentine performance with Fred Astaire in The Girl Hunt Ballet, a sequence from The Band Wagon, that has me floored this morning. Here they are, cutting the rug at Dem Bones Café like there’s no tomorrow.
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Coilfact: Michael Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal” video is based on this number.
By the time she was fourteen, Cyd (born in Texas Tula Ellice Finklea) was honing her moves under the pseudonym “Felia Sidorova” with the Ballet Russe. I don’t exactly envision Nizhinskaya secretly teaching her to loosen her hips and knees, but Cyd’s signature style certainly displays the precision of strict ballet training behind the fluid writhing and risqué kicks so loved by her fans. There is a power to this performer’s presence that transcends sexuality and grace, as if hinting at a playful sorceress, ever-threatening to reveal herself before a charmed audience.
Coilfact: Charisse made the 2001 Guiness Book of World Records as “Most Valuable Legs” after receiving a $5,000,000 insurance policy on her legs. And how!
You’d think that a violinist and theremin wrangler would be more comfortable with the high-pitched, squeaky side of the musical spectrum than anything else, wouldn’t you? In my case, that just ain’t so. Turn down the treble, gimme BOOM, THUD, CRASH. Establish a strong pulse and make sure there’s plenty of low end. The deeper that connection with the rhythm section, the more blissed out I’m gonna be. Bang the drums.
I bring this up because May 16th is the whelping day of one of my favorite peeps in de’ whole wide world, Brian Viglione. He also happens to be one of my all-time favorite drummers.
I first met da’ Vig and his brilliant partner in cabaret crime, Amanda Palmer, many years ago in the basement of some tiny Boston club. I’m not sure Brian was even of legal drinking age back then. My first time watching the Dresden Dolls perform (for an audience of maybe 15 people) I was thinking dang… that kid plays like the radioactive lovechild of Elvin Jones and Brendan Canty! How is that even possible?!
Amanda and Brian both seemed larger than life. I remember turning to one of my own bandmates and asking “is it just me, or does it feel like they should be playing a much bigger room?” Funny how things go…
Brian tearing it up at the Variety Playhouse in Atlanta, 2006. (The Dolls are playing a sold-out show at the Filmore in SF on Sunday. I’ll be joining them on a song. Really looking forward to it, as always. Whether they’re playing some dive bar, a swanky supper club, or opening for NIN, it’s always hugely satisfying to work with these guys.)
In honor of the birthday boy, in no particular order, here is some choice footage and brief blurbage of 20 (give or take a few… I sort of lost count) bliss-inducing percussionists who have, each in their own way, inspired me to be not a only a better musician, but a better human being. I know several of them are on Viggie’s list as well. Many happy returns, good buddy.
Incandescence \In`can*des”cence\, n. A white heat, or the glowing or luminous whiteness of a body caused by intense heat.
As promised, the Coilhouse crew recently headed downtown to document Lucent Dossier‘s ongoing residency at the Edison. The sprawling Edwardian power plant-turned-nightclub was filled to the gills with a strange soup of carnies, stilt-walkers and Entourage types, and Lucent was in top form, performing continuously in various rooms to the delight and wonderment of all.
The Absinthe Fairy! Photo by Zoetica.
Zoetica managed to get some lovely shots of the action, as did Caroline over at the LAist. Incandescence occurs every other Wednesday night (including tomorrow night) for the foreseeable future. More photos and club info after the jump.
