DECADES

Brief Encounters with Coachella

cloish — Wed, 08 May 2013 12:37:34 -0400

Coachella, the desert music festival itself, is a disgusting death trap. A dust filled snowglobe with ten different wind up music cranks going at once.

I knew this going into it. My previous experience with Coachella was in 2006, and as a high school senior I was enchanted by my first music festival experience. Depeche Mode, Madonna, Animal Collective, Dungen - it was an amazing year.

But now I am an old woman who couldn’t care less about the meh lineup and potential Tupac Shakur holograms. But the tickets were free, so I decided to put my aging 25-year-old body to the agony of heat, sound, and drunk/high people.

Since returning I have finally mustered the strength to reflect on the experience. I’m not going to complain about going to a music festival for free, but I will say this: I will never go to Coachella again. Unless they pay me, and I am 2 Chainz status on the lineup.

I embarked on this adventure with my dear friend Kat Nadler, who I have know since 1996 and kindly provided this prep list before we journeyed to Indio. We travelled with her friend Alex, who works in the music business and was blessed with these four tickets, and Alex’s current beau Nathan, a 21-year-old Abercrombie & Fitch model.

On our first day there, after toasting in the sun and ripping watermelons to shreds while watching the Violent Femmes, we decided we had to depart or we would simply die. It was around 5 pm when we realized it would behoove us to go swimming at the hotel instead of passing out from heat stroke to a Franz Ferdinand soundtrack.

Instead we spent the evening swimming in the hotel pool then watched The Notebook. (PS While I’m writing this I hear someone off in the distance blasting “Everybody” by the Backstreet Boys. Appropriate.)

The Notebook is an amazing movie. I’m really late in saying this as I have been putting off watching this one for a while. To put it lightly, this movie changed my life and all expectations I hold about love. Now I will settle for nothing less than to one day be on a Ferris wheel and have a charming Ryan Gosling type character soooo desperately want to ask me out that he will risk his life and climb the Ferris wheel to do so. And then we will die in each other’s arms (not on the Ferris wheel, but as 80-year-olds. And I will have dementia, sadly.)

We followed this movie up with Step Brothers. Hilarity at its finest. Where did we find these movies, you ask? The hotel lobby kindly provided them. We we’re staying at this place called The Plaza, so, yeah, you better believe they had an amazing movie selection, as well as free water in the lobby.

—Chloe

Savages

cloish — Wed, 01 May 2013 11:17:00 -0400

I wanted to blow the lid off this band before anyone else in the blogosphere had had the opportunity to own that claim. A few have, but I don’t care about sending that lid farther across a the veritable football field of the interwebs.

I first heard about Savages about six months ago when a friend played with them in NY at their first show in the US. He immediately texted me explaining that I would be all over this. He has me pegged for a post punk junkie and sure enough, after YouTubing “Flying to Berlin,” off of their first double A side “Flying to Berlin”/“Husbands” released on Pop Noire, I was a believer.

With only two songs as my reference, I still had the utmost confidence that watching them live was a necessary, if not imperative life experience. According to my friend they are good. But he said “good” with an earnest that I don’t hear from him very often. His subtlety said everything.

Last Thursday I had my opportunity. Savages was about to play their first San Francisco show. A quick background before I gush my face off. If you are too lazy to check their Wikipedia page, I will summarize. Savages are new, as in 2011 new, with their first full length album, “Silence Yourself” dropping this month. My copy is in the mail. They are an all female ensemble from the UK and are likened to Siouxsie, Joy Division, and Public Image. I hate to name these pivotal bands as reference, but it is accurate due to them embodying every notably good aspect of the genre. I even detected some Delta 5 in there.

Essentially, they are the Sparknotes of the Post Punk era and if you’ve actually read the synopses that follow chapter summarizations on SparkNotes, you know they are pretty damn insightful. No joke. SparkNotes gets a bad rap and so do “revival bands” but, fuck man, if you’re doing it right (and they do it right) then you are essentially reliving an era that you wish you had been more a part of, or at least were of legal smoking age during its duration.

After smoking a generous joint with my date and his date outside of the Independent and missing the opening act which I heard involved bare breasts and poetry, I was whisked upstairs to the balcony because it rules to have friends who work for Ticketfly. Our timing is kindred and as the four piece takes a very minimal stage, I observe a packed house bellow.

From my observation, Jehnny Beth, the frontwoman of the band, has the Ian Curtis uniform and mannerisms down pat. A well trimmed HJ haircut, tailored slacks, a well pressed collared shirt, straight arms, and angular dance moves sans seizures. I can see where the Joy Division reference immediately gets thrown in there. Her voice, however, echoes of Siouxsie with high pitched animalistic screams. Her versatility from sounding like a tough bitch to female Ian McCulloch (kind of one in the same at times) on songs like “I am Here” holds your attention. But the focus is diverted to the low, prevalent and steady driven bass lines distributed by Ayse Hassan throughout the set and the steady, fast, meticulous beats of the drummer Fay Milton.

The combination of these two is a power house. All of this contrasted with a methodical, reverb laden guitar progression that at times seems to follow little structure, flows organically, yet is presented as premeditated.

With Savages I could have taken even more. And that is my bias. They tap into a pulse that permeates my body because my pulse is post punk and I don’t believe they are trying to represent themselves as anything new and unique. I’ve read that the band concerns itself with violent subject matter as opposed to songs of longing and love.

I’m interested to see what comes next from this band since devoting your sound solely to one era can often leave little room for growth and diverse expectation, but at this very moment I consider this band easily the best band of the year. After the Independent show, they played a set at Coachella, which was apparently well received. I have no doubt that the hype starts now. Luckily they have the chops to back it up.

—Eva-Marie Hube

Prepare for Coachella Weekend Two

cloish — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 13:12:00 -0400

Coachella, weekend two, is approaching. For those embarking on the journey, Kat Nadler offers a helpful and ever practical pre-coachella prep list to help you make the most of your weekend.

1.Browse dumpsters for the perfect headpiece.

2. Save trash bags so you don’t have to use the porta-potties.

3. Bring all 2012 issues of J-14 magazine for autograph-ops.

4. Research the difference between Scott Peterson and Drew Peterson thanks to Lifetime Original movies. Unrelated to Coachella, but still occurred during my preparation.

5. Purchase extra callus scrubbers for late-night foot cleansing.

6. Spend hours on Instagram reviewing the images taken at last weekend’s Coachella. Then realize that everyone used some sort of “hippie” filter. Or is this haze because you’re wearing sunglasses while looking at Instagram?

7. Google “Fozzie Bear Propeller Hat” to see if you, too, could pull off the look

8. Practicar tu español en caso de que los mexicanos hacerse cargo mientras estoy en Coachella.

9 .בדיוק כמו שעבר, אבל הפעם בגרסת עברית

10. Contemplate hiring pet monkey and/or goat and/or capybara (world’s largest rodent) to fan you during the weekend

11. Invest in Dasani (Coca Cola) stock to ensure water brand of choice will be present. Not for drinking, but for dousing fellow music listeners. You see, other brands leave a sticky feel where as I’ve found Dasani has a nice smooth, dried water feel.

12. Research each and every band that will perform to find out their favorite animal/snack/book/movie and create gift accordingly to throw on stage.

Iggy Pop Doesn't Wear A Lot of Makeup

cloish — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 14:08:00 -0400

Iggy Pop doesn’t wear a lot of makeup. He has a very working class, almost animal face. In the right temperament his eyes become crystal balls, so huge that you want to rub your hands on them. Usually they’re contained in some mascara and eyeliner aura.

I don’t look anything like Iggy Pop. I have some mid-western farm stock features that have been pissed upon by Irish elves. When I become Iggy Pop, I wear a lot of make up. When you put on make up and take the step onto a makeshift stage, you invariably say to the audience, I am not here to fake an ounce of funk. Unless your Billy Joel Armstrong, or something like that.

I have always looked up to the ones who wore makeup. I would stand wide-eyed and stare at the beautiful trannies on the stage of The Stud, a place where I was witness to wonderful and shocking portrayals of dimmed lives, growing brighter by the disco ball’s rotation.

They gave it all and I took notes. From the calculated geometry of David Bowie, to the galloping glamour of Secos Molhados, an innovative Brazilian band, I saw the value of a painted face under warm lights.

Despite all of my attraction to the glamorous life, I remain a shitty makeup artist to this day. On the night of our second show as in Iggy Pop tribute band in Istanbul, I walked into Mac hoping to get the free make up job, that I was given the first time. The queen bitch running things told me I would need an appointment, and to pay 120 turkish lira. I was feeling pretty screwed. I had already purchased a pair of gold lame ribbed pants from Kiki Riki. A store so ridiculous and sex inducing that I get hard looking at the mannequins.

Perhaps it’s me that is ridiculous and sex inducing. For all the labor that goes into the gender construction of a Turkish female, I had yet to meet one who was willing to do my makeup.

I began to think of myself going on the stage in less then two hours without makeup akin to being as naked as a dream persona in front of an exam room. My balls retracted slowly into themselves like a shipping crate on a crane in one of the less photographed parts of the Bosphorus.

It hit me. The trannies. Go to the sisters. Very near the club where we were set to play is a street that sort of wishbones off to the left and right with a large building blocking the path. To the right is a series of small urban bowling alleys and metal bars, where it’s not strange to see open torch flames mantling or dismantling fixtures. To the left is a huge apartment block of working trannies. Apparently the building has always, in one way or another, been deemed for such purposes.

The way it has been explained to me is that if you find yourself in the dangerous realm of being on gender reassignment in Turkey, then you hope that you end up in such a house, rather than trying to make a go of it alone on the streets, where most end up dead. The ladies usually call down to passersby and stand in front of the tacky curtains in their painterly glow. Young men huddle across the street like some sort of unanimous shadow dressed in what is called apaçi fashion, all the while daring one another to go in.

I went to this block and called to the lady in the window. I don’t think she understood me, but I was buzzed in. I walked up two flights of stairs. In some rooms there were doors open and ladies in waiting. Finally I met up with the woman who had called down to me. Her English was bad, but she beckoned me into the room where another woman was reclining. I showed her a Xerox copy of a picture of Iggy Pop and Deborah Harry. Right away she understood what I wanted and was apprehensive about doing it because she didn’t think she could do a good enough job.

She secured her robe and took out her make up kit. As she perched above me, coloring my eyes, older Turkish men came into the room gesturing prices and procedures. Their arms were still fixed behind their backs, minus the prayer beads that they would be fiddling with outside of these walls. She wouldn’t take money and told me her name was Aisha. I asked for a picture of us both, but she said her husband was jealous, however if I ever wanted to have my make up done again I should just come back. You like makeup, she said, and smiled.

I was back on the street now, starting to walk away. She called to me. Our eyes, white and encased in black, met each other across two stories. She held out a piece of paper and let it drop onto the floor like a handkerchief. It was the Xerox copy I had left behind. It landed with Iggy’s crystal balls looking up at me. I picked them up and headed for the bar.

—Archie Mckay

Winona Forever At Lost Weekend

cloish — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 10:51:15 -0400

Thanks to everyone who made it to our Winona Ryder tribute night at Lost Weekend. We’re one step closer to making printing dreams come true for Issue Two! For those who missed it, this is what is looked like. Photos by Chris Stevens.

Poppin’ Bandz

cloish — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 13:56:18 -0400

Eagerly, my friends and I approached the large silver doors of a small blue, two story building nestled among the towering concrete giants of San Francisco’s SoMa district. With Juicy J’s* lyrics fresh in my head and a fist full of crisp dollar bills, we were on a quest to experience the free (repeat, free) buffet of a well known local adult establishment. We knew upon entry that our Friday afternoon would instantly turn into what would feel like a full nighttime extravaganza of cocktails, vanilla perfume, strobe lights, and carnal entertainment. I am referring to the Gold Club, or “The Sizzler” as my friends in the nine-to-five world call it in an effort to conceal their true destination when organizing day time field trips through work emails.

I will shamelessly admit that I am no stranger to visiting strip clubs. Let’s be honest, there is something deeply alluring about poppin’ bandz while watching attractive women work a twenty foot pole. The experience somehow becomes more irresistible when you include free fried chicken. The lunch buffet at Gold Club is just as fabulous as it sounds and for a minimal entry fee of $5, it is one of the best deals in San Francisco. It surely beats the $5 foot longs served at Subway (pun very much intended). Offerings include cheesy quesadillas and perfectly crisp, warm, and soft-on-the-inside churros; both are some of my favorites. The fried chicken is also considered to be equally delish. Keep low expectations in mind of the food and it will result in a more satisfactory dining experience.

While indulging on fried chicken and churros, and engaging in friendly banter on breasts, I realized that there was a particular kind of stripper that my hetero girlfriends and I found to be a “ten.” We unanimously agreed on which performers we enjoyed most. The more sensual and slower dancers caught our attention because of their softer less aggressive approach. We also gravitated toward women whose bodies appeared more natural, regardless of body shape and type. Stripping requires a level of athleticism foreign to most that have never had to work a pole. Reminiscent of a Cirque du Soleil show, I was impressed by the acrobatic skills of the dancers who within a matter of seconds went from ground zero to being suspended twenty feet in the air. The “gold star” for the afternoon goes to the dancer who did the Harlem Shake while on the pole. She put every YouTube video to shame and basically did it with no hands.

Enjoying the view at Gold Club is not the only form of entertainment available; do not forget to take notice of the patrons, as they too offer amusement of a different sort. The feminist critique might say women who choose to dance at strip clubs are degrading to the larger female population. I beg to differ. From my female perspective, it is not the women who choose to dance at strip clubs that are degrading, but instead the group of men who react inappropriately in this social environment. When I asked our scantily clad cocktail server the most recent peculiar thing to have happened, she quickly responded, “Fetishes. It’s never the girls. It’s the men who come in with strange requests. Like this guy who ordered a glass of pee. Sorry we only have Budweiser on tap.” While Budweiser and urine are fairly synonymous, let’s save the fetishes for Folsom Street Fair and respect the look but don’t touch policy of the GENTLEMAN’s club.

Slightly buzzed and fully entertained, our eyes squinted at the sunshine pouring through the doorways as we left. Our magical evening, I mean afternoon, had ended and my friends had to return to their isolation tanks. I mean office cubicles. Those who are adventurous enough to experience the free buffet at the Gold Club will discover that it certainly is a great way to spend an hour lunch break. I highly recommend it.

*I am a glutton for rappers who account their strip club experiences in their music. And with that disclaimer, I present to you the musical compositions of Juicy J, Lil Wayne, and 2 Chainz

—Roshni Shukla

Winona Forever

cloish — Tue, 19 Mar 2013 18:43:00 -0400

We’re hosting a Winona Ryder Double Feature at Lost Weekend Video tomorrow! Come out and see Heathers and Reality Bites. Mobile food vendor Boris Portnoy of Satellite Republic will be there serving delicious food at 6 pm. Auction with Winona themed prizes starts a 7:30, and movie starts at 8.

See you there.

Kubrick

cloish — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 13:11:00 -0500

I dread my birthday every year. It placates to my insecurity and applies a pressure that makes me abort any attempt to plan a celebration. This year, however, I decided to go to Disneyland with some other people and make a couple of days of it in Southern California. Because when you turn 27, you deserve a day at the happiest place on earth, damn it. As it turns out, it was a harrowing day of avoiding small children who apparently like to hang on everything in site, and trying to mediate through an overwhelming crowd, stoned while wearing mouse ears, and getting even more high off of the smell of funnel cake permeating every inch of the magic kingdom.

After that I needed a day of decompression and maybe some “high brow” cultural enrichment. So my best lady and I decided to drive to west LA to check out the Stanley Kubrick retrospective at the LACMA. When first entering the exhibit, we were immediately bombarded with clips of 2001: A Space Odyssey, Dr. Strangelove, and Lolita on two larger than prepared for projectors in a blacked out room.

If you have the courage to leave this room of sensory overload to the light of the next room, you are given a well rounded background on Kubrick’s influences and path to filmmaking in an open space that includes vintage promotional posters for said filmography and stills from his early ambitious, yet unappreciated documentary films. I was unaware, for example, that Kubrick started out as a photographer for Look magazine at the age of 17, after submitting to the publication a photograph of a devastated newspaper vendor selling the headline “F.D.R. DEAD”. Provided with this information, you really understand how Kubrick honed his talent for visual composition and exhaustive detailing in his frames, a consistent characteristic within his work.

But what really draws you into the exhibit is each room’s dedication to a singular Kubrick film. It begins with his early documentary work and Lolita. You then proceed through Paths of Glory, Dr. Strangelove, Barry Lyndon, A Clockwork Orange, The Shining, Eyes Wide Shut, and Full Metal Jacket. Each room provides a varying degree of annotated scripts, costumed mannequins, stills, and inspirations Kubrick drew from in his visions for characters and scenes.

In the room dedicated to The Shining, the matching dresses worn by the loneliest twin girls are on display. Directly across from that is a book of Diane Arbus photography, purposefully opened to her photograph ‘Identical Twins’ that she shot in 1967. One naturally makes the connection for the inspiration. There is even a small scale model of the maze from the movie, which I think I was able to make my way out of while imagining myself as a terrified Shelly Duvall running from a crazed, ax toting Jack Nicholson.

The theme of photography as an influence is a constant throughout the retrospective. Kubrick’s visual aesthetic in cinematic medium at times overpowers the plot and characters of his movies, serving his audience eye candy that one can savor well after watching. This retrospective was as satisfying as re-living each of his films. Even though you aren’t allowed to touch the art, the exhibit exudes a more tangible quality. I felt like I had stepped into Disneyland all over again, except this one was a twisted kingdom with very few small children present.

—Eva-Marie Hube

Jessica Pratt

cloish — Mon, 28 Jan 2013 13:33:30 -0500

I’ve known Jessica Pratt for about three years. We share a mutual love for Psychic TV, black cats, and five dollar Thrift Town finds. I’ve always distinguished her as an internal, observant woman with a dry sense of humor that is usually delivered in a comedic tone of voice; most likely telling a story about the disagreeable clientele that stand in line at the bakery she works at on weekend mornings, demanding loaves of artisan bread as if it were the French Revolution.

I recently discovered that when she is not not adhering to the demands at said bakery, Pratt moonlights as a seraphic folk singer and songwriter. She has posted recordings infrequently on her Facebook over the past couple of years, which caught my attention and led me to realize that she is incredibly talented. Her self-titled album was released this year, but recorded over five years ago on Tim Presley’s label Birth Records.

Jessica is not the type to force her music upon you, proclaiming it unquestionable to ignore. You pick up on her unpretentious vibe while watching her play. It is as if she is being dragged on stage by an imaginary hand and forced to play the most intimate of sets against her will.

It’s almost voyeuristic. It feels special and rare. After having missed the opportunity to see her open for the likes of John C. Riley at The Chapel, I was privy to a vulnerable Jessica opening for Michael Hurley at the Great American Music Hall. She bewitched the audience and myself with what sounded like a perfectly tuned violin escaping from her vocal cords, convulsing over a subtle, sweet and steady guitar plucking that lasted throughout her set.

While there were some variations in her set, in the end, her songs felt like one mysteriously somber and romantic story that unfolded with every song. “Was that like a twenty minute song or what?” she asked with a laugh after one particular song.

“That’s the first time she’s made a joke on stage,” her boyfriend Colby pointed out after the performance. She’s getting more comfortable with performing, obviously. I’m glad I saw her in the beginning stages, where the live performance is still a new experience, less routine, and as foreign of a phenomenon to the performer as it is to the audience. Did I mention Jessica is also a member of the Brian Jones fan club? I’m pretty sure she gets the newsletter.

—Eva-Marie Hube

Photo

cloish — Mon, 28 Jan 2013 13:19:45 -0500

THE LAB // BENEFIT WINTER SHOWCASE 1/19

cloish — Fri, 18 Jan 2013 18:09:00 -0500

MIKE DONOVAN + ERIC PARK HEADLINE THE LAB

tomorrow Saturday, January 19th 2948 16th Street at Capp

Mike Donovan and Eric Park are recording a new LP this month. Mike and Eric played together in Yikes. Yikes is the John Dwyer project that Mike off-handedly claims that, “No one understood or liked.” “I’ve wanted to work with him since then. On the 19th at The Lab we will both be playing guitars and singing.” Donovan goes on to say that, “Although the music Eric and I have done in the past could be described as “non- traditional”- the songs I’ve written for the upcoming LP are part of a tradition of American music.”

See Mike Donovan and Eric Park play this weekend at The Lab Benefit showcase 10PM with Waxy Tombs, Tainted Pussy and Deletist. Drag will be curated by Yetunde Olagbaju. Visual stimulus by John Brumely. $5-$15

18x24” official poster art by Decades Creative Director, Elizabeth Stone Brown will be made available on sale tomorrow evening. All proceeds will be given to The Lab to keep it alive and running.

BAD NEWS: BEST BAND 2012

cloish — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 22:05:00 -0500

Sarah Bernat is one half of the Skinny Puppy-infected project BAD NEWS. BAD NEWS topped our Local / California Best of Bands of 2012. Hear them now.

Honorable Mentions: Cathedral X, Thee Royal Baths, Artificial Blood, Ashe Williams, Goth Chix, DeathDay, Jessica Labrador, Tied To The Branches, Pharaohs, Brogan Bently, Hazel’s Wart, Gerritt Wittmer

22. Tender Buttons

21. Group Rhoda

20. Permanent Collection

19. Austin Ceasar

18. Straight Crimes (Erin Allen)

17. Holly Herndon

16. Wax Idols

15. Moonbell

14. The Mallard

13. Disappearing People

12. TINT

11. Vallens (Jon Porras)

10. Bruse

9. Jeweled Snakes

8. Cool Angels

7. Vestals

6. Never Knows

5. Black Jeans

4. Painted Caves (Evan Caminiti)

3. A White Hunter

2. Some Ember

1. Bad News

TEXT BY GAEL MADDEN

From the depths of Dante’s First Circle comes the demonic duo aptly named, Bad News. The cross-geographical pair, Sarah Bernat and Alex Lukas weld industrial hymns out of gritted synth tones, mutilated samples and darkly protracted guitars. Working within limitations, the two have an affinity for hardware, icy vox and loaded, unpredictable live performances. Back in August, Bad News proved their penchant for unsavory frequencies, achieved with skill- not abuse, at a packed house show at the Decades’ live spot No Hole 859 Oak.

In November Bad News released an EP called NO END on Greh Holger’s established Los Angeles label Chondritic Sound . On “Typical Illusion” and “Bath Salts” wet textured waves of noise scrape across urgent percussive intervals invoking a new void, a new place for hyphenated genres to die and new ideas about historical combinations of sound to grow and mutate.

Alex Lukas, productionist and Bad News rhythm section, formerly of Copy Lake, Cribdeath and My Daddy Ate My Eyes at Jam City in Oakland this November opening for ex-High Castle project Mayb Knot.

Marked by an early acceptance of improvisation and loose composition during the inception of the project, the Bad News recordings do more than just winking at you with loud, clever sequencing. From dead-pan-delivered to nodule producing vocals and the swollen frequencies often boiling over into the abyss, there’s plenty of atmosphere to leave you forgetting where you are and that it’s actually music you’re listening to- not a death rattle.

Bad News East Coast tour dates with Mark Van Fleet of Sword Heaven will be announced soon.

†††

HOLY OTHER: ARTIST OF THE YEAR

cloish — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 07:54:00 -0500

Welcome to the Decades Best of Music Year End 2012 feature. Below is our list of artists that made the Decades staff short-list this year. Tune in at 6pm New Years Day for our Best of Music Year End for Local / California acts. Pictured above: Holy Other in Munich.

Honorable Mentions: Thieves Like Us, Laurel Halo, Micachu, Soft Metals, CFCF, Noveller, oOoOO, Weekend, Grave Babies, Disclosure, Rustie, Magda

13. Death Grips

12. Gatekeeper

11. Tropic of Cancer

10. John Talabot

9. Blondes

8. Purity Ring

7. Trust

6. Bicep

5. The Soft Moon

4. Andy Stott

3. Todd Terje

2. Grimes

1. Holy Other

TEXT BY GRIFFIN MADDEN

He looks really like quite a young guy. His hair was neatly shaved on the sides and handsomely combed over on the top in that popular WWII youth club style. He wore a t-shirt that came across grey beneath a single green spotlight. Coming down to his elbows, his sleeves were a little long for a short-sleeved shirt. He moved and looked strong. The crowd was thin and mostly unfocused enabling a head-on, five-foot distant view of him on a tall stage. But I never fully saw his face, or any expression really. Holy Other made his Bay Area debut at the Greek Theater this year and with much excitement, I am pleased to present Holy Other as the Decades Magazine musical artist of the year 2012.

Holy Other deserves our attention for at least a few different
achievements this year, but for starters, what makes him eligible for this
sort of thing is the late-summer release his debut LP Held, the much
anticipated follow-up to the excellent extended play With U. Since I’m
going to go on to say that one of the laudable qualities of Holy Other and
his work is the way in which they skillfully resist definitions and
identities, what I will say next will sound like a contradiction. Held
allegedly deals with relationships—the difficult and complicated emotional
states and ideas that accompany love in both its high and low points. In
this way Held is very much an extension of the earlier EP With U. When you
listen to Held, it begins to seem like you can understand With U as the
collection of etudes that allowed for Holy Other to pull it all together
thematically, and then deliver the coherent and carefully sculpted thesis
that Held is. The two records taken together, Holy Other’s sort of the
dark prince of bedroom themes; er—the frightful parts of love, like
indifference, the cold absence of feeling, the regular pain of loss, and
the loneliness, the sort of loneliness where you have no one and the other

sort of loneliness where someone you have claustrophobically and

paradoxically makes you lonely.

Admittedly, if you’re paying attention, it’s easier to get this specific
on meanings with the help of track titles, press releases and the
gorgeously loaded photos of bed sheets that serve as the blank faces for
Holy Other’s Held and With U artwork. Despite what I’ve
said in explanation of his work, the artist is famously elusive and
infamously shy. It’s only a recent development for Holy Other to perform
without wearing a black veil (which he has explained was worn out of
shyness, even if it does work unbelievably well with his sound and
aesthetic, the visual impact the veil has is beyond trend). His name and
age and other such biographical info are still unknown to the public. What
happens here then is significant and artistically profound. Now the person
who is Holy Other has stepped completely inside the world of the art
itself. The Holy Other we are all learning begins and ends in that world.
Which is not to say that the Holy Other that rides the bus isn’t an artist
and the one that performs is, but that he always is. Totally devoted. Holy
Other all the time and everywhere. It shows a sort of willingness to do
anything, to die in order to in some way affect himself and us.

And this total submersion of himself into the world of Holy Other is
something I gratefully respect because it affords total submersion into
that world for me as well. So when you really swim in Holy Other’s sounds
you experience something fuller, deeper, more dimensional. You find it’s an

engagement with yourself (and in some ways someone else) that’s a whole

lot more complicated and authentic than the kinds of experiences most

things throughout the day give you the opportunity to have. And maybe with

that you find too that figuring what means what is perhaps a broken goal for

interfacing with the art that’s most important to us.

Please excuse me if I made it seem like the person who is Holy Other’s
decision to keep his identity veiled is entirely responsible for the
affective capacity of the music. I mean to say that that decision has made
it so that the triangular relationship between Holy Other, his work and us
can be one that supports the kinds of experience that we and, I presume,
he has. What those experiences are have more to do with the music itself.
That is, often slow, earnest, guided delicately with impassioned
male/female vocal samples—a sonic economy with very few words. It’s
personal music. Not suited for most kinds of clubs. I think these elements
have more to do with what happens when you listen.

This year, someone, somewhere, had a really good idea one night trying to fall asleep
when they thought to put Holy Other and Beach House together. They toured
together around Europe through October and November. And as mentioned,
Holy Other dropped the veil to overcome difficulties with performing that
gave him a “panicked expression.” At the Greek, Holy Other entered and
exited the stage without a single glance upward. He played a quick and
tight set, pulling from both records, rocking rhythmically from the waist
with careful control. Afterward he disappeared into a curtain with no
words and no goodbye. If you’d have looked away or held your eyes

shut too long, you’d have missed him.

Christmas + Movies

cloish — Mon, 24 Dec 2012 11:23:00 -0500

Tomorrow is Christmas, which DECADES does indeed celebrate because DECADES is an atheist Jewish Witch. And a lactose intolerant Scorpio. With that in mind, we have contributor Richard Procter sharing with us his favorite films for the occasion. We’ll let him take it from here:

You need several elements in a film for it to meet the arbitrary standards I’ve just devised that make up the criteria for a Good Christmas Movie. First, you need a happy ending. Believe me, I’m (among) the first people to clamor against cliché happy endings in all films, but for a Christmas movie it’s a must; nobody wants to watch a downer during the holidays. Secondly, it should take place during the Christmas season because that helps us narrow down the field of movies and also because now we can better relate to the characters and events on screen. Keep reading for the list.

1) Die Hard

Definitely fulfills criteria number one; we’ve got Bruce Willis, All-American Guy gradually laying waste to Alan Rickman and his Dastardly Euro Terrorists while also winning back his lady by the end. Willis arguably at the peak of his physical fitness, wit, and charm? Yes, please. The movie also takes place during the holiday season, which is referenced a few times by the characters, and climaxes with Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” playing over the end credits. This is just enough holiday cheer to give this grade A action movie a place in the Xmas pantheon.

2. The Man Who Came To Dinner

This Bette Davis movie from 1942 is notable not for Davis, but for the performance of Monty Woolley, who plays the titular dinner goer, Sheridan Whiteside. Whiteside is an extremely caustic socialite slash radio host who injures himself outside the home of rich people in Ohio just before Christmas. The film (adapted from a play of the same name wherein Woolley played the same character) shows the hijinks and matchmaking that Whiteside gets up to while confined to a wheelchair in this Midwestern home. If you like Dicken’s Christmas Carol, you’ll love this; Whiteside is Scrooge mixed with Santa Claus. He’s a jerk, but a very witty and jolly jerk, and he happens to have a heart of gold.

3. A Muppet Christmas Carol

By far the best adaptation of Dicken’s work. The Muppets are their usual hilarious Muppet selves, and Michael Caine is the best Ebenezer Scrooge that I’ve seen. Yes, better than Patrick Stewart. Jim Henson’s workshop manages to make this tale fun, happy, and light, subbing humor in for dreary religious guilt tripping. Also, if you have a DVD or Blu-Ray version, you can skip right past the one stupid song.

4. Love, Actually

I feel like I shouldn’t even have to make an argument for this film based on the cast. Emma Thompson, Alan Rickman, Liam Neeson, Colin Firth, Hugh Grant, Martin Freeman, etc.? If that’s not enough to get you to watch it I’m not sure what to do for you… though I will cede that All-Star ensemble casts often fail (looking at you, Towering Inferno, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World etc.). However, it’s well-done here. The stars anchor different vignettes that build toward a crescendo at the end where everyone comes together on Christmas and everything is wonderful. Seriously the one with Colin Firth is the most romantic and adorable Christmas love story ever, and part with Hugh Grant dancing to “Jump (For My Love)” should make this mandatory viewing on their own.

5. Miracle on 34th Street

If you demand maximum Christmas from your Christmas movie, this is where to go. Edmund Gwenn is the definitive Santa Claus (slash Kris Kringle) and it’s not close. This movie features Santa Claus pwning his detractors, children’s faith overcoming adult cynicism, and a sequence where a trial is won with the U.S. Postal Service. Plus, the holiday bonus of also covering Thanksgiving. You’re welcome.

—Richard Procter

A Guide to the Apocalypse (If you live in the Richmond)

cloish — Thu, 20 Dec 2012 13:51:00 -0500

On our impending day of fire and judgement I hope to take to the streets with the looting fervor of a 6-year-old on Halloween. Since I live in the Richmond and ‘exciting’ is the last word I’d use to describe the places around here, I need to get creative with how I go about this. Continue reading for my looting prep list.

—Jared Frazer

1) Tia Margarita’s

I’m not a bartender, however I did play one in a movie once*, and that gave me enough knowledge to know that Tia Margarita’s is fully stocked with tequila. Now I’ve never looted before, but I’m guessing that agreeing with fellow looters isn’t going to be a common theme today and I’m going to need some fuel to make bad decisions.

2) Hong Kong Lounge

Have you ever had the bbq pork buns at this place? I’d loot this place for their pork buns today. Faced with my impending death, and fueled by patron, there will be a me-shaped hole in the front of this place come apocalypse time.

3) Golden Gate Park Bike & Skate

I’m going mobile with some roller blades. If I’m lucky no one will have stolen the headbands and hammer pants that I envision to be stocked in this place.

4) Seedstore

Depending on the intensity of the tidal wave or fire rain that is currently ripping the earth apart at this point, I’m going to need some provisions. So I’m blading my way over to Seedstore to beat my way through throngs of Richmond hipsters for a Pendleton blanket and some coats.

5) Home

With the perfect storm of: the Richmond not being that interesting, me most likely having consumed the greater portion of a bottle of tequila at this point, and roller-blading for the first time in 17 years, I’ll be quite exhausted. I’m heading home to climb up to my roof, curl up in my new blankets, eat my pork buns and film the city as it burns to the ground.

Michael Sarah

cloish — Fri, 07 Dec 2012 11:30:00 -0500

Those who were at the DECADES launch party in June may recognize the work of artists Sarah Lesher and Michael Kahan (one of their lovely prism prints were part of our group art show), who together create art under the name Dear Triangle. If you have not seen their prints, then get a car a drive to Santa Cruz. Tonight is the opening reception for their collaborative print show “Metropolis/Wilderness,” at Stripe [107 Walnut Ave, Santa Cruz] where they will be showing one of a kind screen prints with added layers of drawing and painting. Show goes from 6-9 pm and will be up till January 2nd. This show marks the first time the two have made a body of work together and they insist it is only the beginning. DECADES chatted via email with Michael and Sarah about the show, art, and the death penalty. Read on for Q&A fun:

When did you start Dear Triangle? What’s the deal?

Michael Kahan: Dear Triangle is a collaborative identity that was imagined about a year ago. We want to design work together and share as much as possible. We hope to create a lot of creative relationships and stay busy.

Sarah Lesher: Yeah, we are still figuring out exactly what it means, we just know that we are going to keep collaborating in the future and it is fun to have a name, its like an alter ego or something. Our next project is a line of hand printed and painted scarves, and we are also doing a bit of design work together for friends. We just moved into a really great studio.

Why deer, why triangles?

MK: It came from the first piece we did together. It contained a deer and prominent triangles. The triangles are mountains. I also get a sense that we both adore nature. Deer appreciate nature too. They tread lightly.

SL: The triangle comes from a shared obsession, and a constant search for triangles within our environments. Last year, when we were living away from each other, we communicated through picture text messages of triangles.

Do people ever say “deers” and if so do you wince and then go “The plural of deer is deer!!”?

SL: It makes us smile more than wince, and sometimes I even say deers, just to be funny. I also say deery a lot when I talk to deer.

MK: I just say “Hey!”… no “deery”. When I was growing up in Tennessee I heard “deers” a bunch. I like it, it reminds me of home.

Are you aware that people (and by people I mean Chloe and Elizabeth) call you guys Michael Sarah? And that we kept telling people that we had artwork from Michael Cera at the DECADES release party, then giggled?

SL: You just blew our minds.

MK: Weird, every time we hang out with Michael, everyone’s all like “Michael Sarah” and no one knows who’s being talked to.

When did you two meet and how did the collaboration start?

SL: We met in May 2011 and collaboration began soon after.

MK: I totally think that collaboration started immediately. I guess it really started when we both were invited to my friend’s studio. We set up Sarah’s gear and started screen printing.

Rain or sunshine or neither?

MK: I like sunshine, but, it’s cool if it rains. I miss lightening.

SL: Rain.

What’s your stance on the death penalty?

SL: I’m so grateful that we just had the opportunity to vote against it in California.

MK: I can’t believe it wasn’t overturned.

Favorite work of art you have ever made: GO!

MK: My favorite work has to be my sketchbooks. I can always go back to it, rework it, and never feel like I lost something. They hold so much, and for me, they are intimate objects.

SL: Sanitary Ballet, a wearable art/performance piece I made in collaboration with Caitlin Slay.

CONSTRUCTIVE INTERFERENCE: A White Hunter

cloish — Tue, 27 Nov 2012 18:02:00 -0500

There are several people who reside in the East Bay that I know who I am convinced are soulless. This judgment of them, that they have no souls, strikes you in a way prior to the judgment of whether people have souls at all; so don’t worry if you have your own opinion on the matter. You’d agree when you saw them that there’s some… Lacking.

I have found, without discussing this beforehand with the musicians, that A White Hunter’s music is basically the litmus test for souls. That if you play A White Hunter around one of these soulless entities, they all but practically slap their hands to their faces and shriek in their efforts to get you to turn it off. This discovery took the better part of a week to hash out. It seems to explain one aspect of the name ‘A White Hunter.’

For more legitimate metaphysical entities, AWH is basically classical music for adults. As in: classical music is to babies as A White Hunter is to people who are older than babies. Only the relationship’s a little different. While I suppose classical music has supposed formative effects on all the little CNS’s, AWH is a matter of cleaning—like listening to, it’s the high pressure hose blasting barnacles off your mental ship hull.

Words by Griffin Sean Madden

Art by Kern Haug

A White Hunter plays the Decades & Mashi Mashi Presents party this Thursday, November 29th at The Knockout in San Francisco 10PM with Nako, Shannon (Chasms), Jeweled Snakes, Disappearing People and drag babies O Prayer and thee HANDSOME NYE. †††

Macaroni and Cheese. For Life.

cloish — Mon, 26 Nov 2012 19:50:00 -0500

Choosing from a menu at a restaurant you’ve never been to before is fraught with peril. Your tastebuds, stomach, wallet, and bowels will all have to live with your choice for the next several hours. The bigger the menu, the less likely you are to hit upon that one certain dish that this kitchen can prepare particularly well. But every once in awhile, when you do make that lucky choice, you remember it. This Q & A was inspired by such an experience.

I recently had a friend with some extra cash to spend visit town. Naturally, we decided to spend the money responsibly and get expensive steaks and some drinks. Not sure where to go, we settled on Bluestem Brasserie, at Market and 4th Street. Instead of the $30 steaks though, we came out talking about the macaroni and cheese, a small, $6 dollar side dish. It hardly seemed fair to the entrées. I went back with some other friends and the macaroni and cheese was once again the star of the show. Clearly there was something at work here, so I interviewed Chef Francis Hogan about the delectable little dish.

—Richard Procter

This macaroni and cheese seems really popular. What’s your secret? Is there a secret?

There’s a secret and it’s the cheese. And lots of it. We do a five slash seven cheese blend. I say that because two can be loosely interpreted as cheeses. So we do a blend of Tillamook Cheddar, smoked gouda, fontina, gruyère, parmesan and then the other two, cream cheese and crème fraîche, to give it that richness and creaminess and voluptuous texture. The cool thing is that every cheese does its job. That cheddar’s gonna’ give it its sharp bite, and then the gruyere is gonna’ have that nutty, kinda’ toasty flavor to it. The fontina gives it an earthy almost mushroomy characteristic.

What about the gouda?

It has to be smoked gouda because that just gives it this depth and this background. We do get a lot of great response on the mac and cheese because we’ve developed the mac and cheese into its own kind of identity. So now we’re actually offering the option to add bacon, or house baked pancetta, or truffle oil, or all three.

And I remember it comes in a little…

Cast-iron crock, yeah.

Is that just for show, or what?

Once we make the mac, we put it in the crock and then we put a little bread crumb on top and then we broil it to let the bread crumb sink in and soak up some of the cheese and get it a little crispy, so the cast iron’s are great for that because they’ll retain the heat in the broiler.

How long has it been on the menu?

It’s a Bluestem original.

And I believe you’re now the sole chef in the kitchen?

Yes.

But originally there was someone else?

Yes, Sean Canavan was the opening chef.

Did you both work on the developing the original menu?

Well I started about a month and a half after the restaurant opened as a sous chef under Sean, so the initial launch Sean developed.

I presume the sides are designed to fit with the entrées on the menu, so how does the mac and cheese fit in with that?

Mac and cheese is that quintessential, classic Americana and that’s really what our message is here. We’re an American brasserie, so we are modern. By no means are we trying to do comfort food, but we do want to give our nod to Americana and things that people know and things that people love and put our spin on it, using these higher quality cheeses. I get the best possible gruyere and the best possible fontina we spend money on this because in my opinion it shows.

What are the best possible cheeses?

Because of the type of cheese they are, they aren’t necessarily local. For instance, gruyère. Gruyère can be a very broad term and people can make a gruyère style cheese, but the true gruyère has to come from Switzerland and it has to be aged in a cave.

That’s cool! I’m sorry, I’m not a food person so when I find something like that out, it’s cool.

Yeah, no, it’s totally cool! And what it does is it gives [the gruyère] that trademark characteristic, because if you don’t do that it’s not going to have that intense, nutty kind of hazelnut flavor. And then the fontina, we use an Italian fontina. Fontina’s another one that a lot of people will mimic and, you know, you can get fontina from Wisconsin, but it’s just not the same. And for the parmesan we use the parmesan oregano, the real stuff. And the smoked gouda, there’s a lot of smoked goudas out there. and smoked gouda is a cool cheese. Now that’s a classic American cheese. The traditional gouda is a Dutch cheese and that’s totally different, that’s kind of like a carmelly cheese, which is great, but not the best for melting. But the smoked gouda, there’s a lot of them you know, that are meh with not much texture and not much flavor. As far as gouda goes, it matters what wood you use, you really can tell.

Really?!

This gouda we get, they use hickory to smoke it, and you really can tell the difference.

Also my editor wanted me to ask if you’ve ever heard of or could comment on the idea of macaroni and cheese with ketchup.

Huh. Ketchup? No. But not too far away, macaroni and cheese with sriracha is brilliant. Brilliant! I like to call sriracha “siamese ketchup” anyway, you can put it on anything.

Ha! And you mentioned the breadcrumbs earlier. Do you use a special kind of bread for that?

We use our baguette; we get fresh baguette every day for the tables and on it’s second day we dry it out and we grind it up. So it’s high quality bread, we’re not opening a bag of bread crumbs. So yeah we toast it up, we grind it, and then we season it up with some lemon zested parsley.

And then something I was wondering, for something like this, how big an effect does the type of pasta have on the dish? I mean obviously elbow macaroni’s the default - it’s part of the name - but if you were going to sub in a different one, would it have a large impact?

It would. I mean pasta’s a very temperamental thing. You can’t force one pasta into an application where it doesn’t belong. For instance, if you’re making a clam sauce, it’s gotta’ be linguini or a spaghetti or something long because it’s built for the dish like that. I mean, am I saying elbow macaroni is the only thing you can use? Absolutely not. But you do want things that are kind of shorter and things that are really gonna adhere to that cheese sauce.

This dish has been pretty successful, has it ever crossed your mind to make it into a bigger dish or an entrée?

Well, that’s kind of where this bacon or pancetta or truffle oil idea came from. We like to keep it reasonably small because it’s meant to accompany. We’ve been doing this for about two months now where we offer the additions and it wasn’t on the menu, but we even had someone ask last week for cherry tomatoes on their mac.

RECIPE

6 c. Bechamel Sauce
1 lb Grated Tillamook Cheddar
¾ lb Grated Fontina
½ lb Grated Gruyere
¼ lb Grated Smoked Gouda
⅛ lb Shredded Parmesan
1 T. Mustard Powder
1 T. Tabasco

2 tsp. Paprika
1 tsp. Cayenne
1/2 tsp. White Pepper
2 T. Worcestershire

Warm Bechamel sauce in a large pot, larger than you think you’ll need!
Add grated cheeses to warm Bechamel sauce and simmer to melt the cheeses, stirring constantly with a spatula.
Add seasonings to sauce and stir to combine.
Cook elbow macaroni (or other favorite short pasta) to al dente. Add pasta to preheated sauce and simmer to coat the pasta.
Place pasta and cheese mix into an oven safe dish or crock.
Top with toasted bread crumbs, chopped parsley and additional grated parmesan.
Broil until breadcrumbs are golden brown and crispy.

Official poster art by Elizabeth Brown

cloish — Mon, 19 Nov 2012 14:09:00 -0500

RSVP here.

We're Having a Party

cloish — Fri, 26 Oct 2012 16:37:40 -0400

WE ARE HAVING A PARTY AT KNOCKOUT (SF) next month 11/29 with Jeweled Snakes, Disappearing People and A White Hunter. DJ’s Mashi Mashi, Nako and Shannon (Chasms) will be spinning dark jams // more treats and information TBA †††