Best New Music: Pineapple

My sophomore year of high school, I very briefly dated this guy named Scott, who went by the moniker "DJ Pineapple." Looking back, it seems like an odd choice -- his band was a goth band, and Scott, and all his friends, dressed in all black with spiky necklaces and were on stage crew. (And this was 2000, so we didn't understand irony yet.)

Google image result #5 for "Goth kids." Is the person on the right a chick or
a dude? (Scott's friends were all skinny.)

Anyway, I bring this up NOT because it's a hilarious story (ok, so that WAS part of the reason), but because it's a perfect example of how the word "Pineapple" conjures up all sorts of incongruities. I mean, take the pineapple itself: such an unwieldy fruit, covered in those weird little bumpy things and impossible to cut open. But then when you do, it's totally delicious! I mean come on people, amirite?

Google image result #5 for "pineapple." Is this like, a meme I missed out on?

The same holds true for Vancouver's Pineapple, a quirky indie pop band who combine tuneful folk-pop with cheeky, flippant lyrics (delivered perfectly irreverently) -- for a result that is part Moldy Peaches, part Violent Femmes...and a whole lotta parts sweet, vintage pop.



Their self-titled debut dropped June 1 and is topping indie download sites across the board -- not because they have some excellent PR company working for them (disclaimer: I have no idea if Pineapple has an excellent PR company working for them), but because this shit is fucking good. Read more -- and check it out for yourself -- at Phrequency.com. You didn't think I was going to give everything away here, did you?

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Haiku Review (times two!); Buried Beds and Passion Pit

Buried Beds...

run deep, they say, but
this Philly fivesome caught rock
fever, and kills it.



photo Kate Bracaglia for Phrequency.com



Read the full review here!



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Passion Pit


Messy morsels, and
Reeling; take you higher, oh!
Arena rock; so good.



photo Matt LaRoche for Phrequency.com

Read the full review here!

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Neighborhood Watch: No dogz allowed!!

There's a block on Pine Street, between 11th and 12th, that I constantly refer to in my head as "Constipation block." I call it this for the following reason: there are a number of small grassy areas embedded in the sidewalk on this block, used for growing flowers or maybe small trees. And in practically every damn one of them, there are smart little signs stating: "No dogs allowed" or sometimes "Go some place else, dog!", as if the dogs themselves can read these signs and know to hold it until they reach 10th Street.

Google image result #7 for "No dogs allowed."

Anyway, I've long since found this amusing because of the time and energy people put in to making these signs. Most are just index cards, to be fair -- but index cards with hand-stenciled borders (mostly of flowers) -- taped to popiscle sticks, for maximum durability. To start, there was just one of these lil guys, a little past Mixto -- now it seems the whole damn block is exploding with them. Which of course begs the question:

If you see one of these signs ("No dogs allowed") are you MORE or LESS likely to let your dog poop there?

Now perhaps I'm just distrustful of my neighbors...but having lived in this city for 7 years now and grown quite accustomed to its inhabitants and their manners...I'd have to go with the former. I mean, no one wants a dog pooping on their 2 square feet of property, right? It's common knowledge. So when my dog (my imaginary dog) is ready to take a shit, do I guide him to another unmarked spot? Hell no! I say to myself: How dare these people tell me where MY dog can shit. He'll shit wherever he wants. Just you try and stop me.

Google image result #6 for "dog shit."

Spiteful? You bet. But what did you expect from the City of "Brotherly love?"

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Best New Music: Jaill

Semi-observant readers of this blog might notice: I've had a bit of a hard-on (a girl hard-on?) for Sub Pop lately. I can't help it! Now that I'm getting old (note: today is my 25th birthday) I long more and more for the music of my college years -- gritty, dirty, punk bands with jangly guitars and simple 2-part harmonies that sound like they're the greatest thing in the world because you are drunk and in college and your meals are already paid for on a mealplan by Mom and Dad.

A super crappy photo of Q and Not U at Pilam Human BBQ, 2004. I was a
freshman, and had to leave in the middle to puke and sleep.

Milwaukee's Jaill are one of those bands. A punk-y quartet with a penchant for irony (the best type!) Jaill will rock your face off, then keep on rocking -- even if their songs are all 2-minutes long. After all, their name is JAILL, which is like regular jail, except even longer. (There's no parole in jaill.)

do. not. fuck.

But enough nonsense talk. (On my birthday, I grant myself a higher pun allowance than normal.) Learn more about these lovable rapscallions, and catch a vid of a live performance, at Philly's OWN rapscallion headquarters, Phrequency.com.

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Haiku Review: The New Pornographers

Shiny power-pop
glistens, except Dan Bejar:
dude, why so grouchy?


Photo Dan Bracaglia for Phrequency.com

Read the full review here!

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Music Video Mondays: The Golden Filter

The Golden Filter are an up-and-coming, NYC-based, synth-tronica duo who craft the type of spacey, dreamy melodies you can get lost in. Their debut album, Voluspa, was released back in April; "Thunderbird" is the second single, and the perfect escape for a week of unbearable weather.

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Are you cool? Kate goes internetting to find out

Coolness. To some, it's just a word; to others, it's a destiny. In high school, being cool meant conforming to a very specific set of criteria, including (but not limited to!): fabulous hair, athletic ability, and an intrinsic love of Dave Mathews Band. Now that I'm older and living in the City of Grunge Chic (in a self-aware, post-Hipster Handbook society), the rules have changed slightly, and it seems that, if anything, these exact criteria now make you UNcool -- unless of course you frequent Bro bars and pop your collar unironically.




Anyway, I've never been good at sports, and have ALWAYS thought that DMB sucks, and...well, isn't this whole hipster movement just a reclamation of the cool title by the former dorks of America? (I admit I do have fabulous hair, but some things you just can't control.)

So does that mean I'm cool? There's only one way to find out. And so, sucking up my pride just a little bit (it's coolz to be humblez), I decided to turn to the one and only ultimate source for things of this nature: Internet quizzes.




I started by Googling "quiz + how cool are you." The first result is called "Are you cool or do you suck?" Way to get right to the heart of the matter!

This was a tough quiz. Take question #6, for example. How do you possibly answer this?

6.	What`s the best kind of music?
Britney and bubble gum catchy tunes. Stuff like Bob Dylan or Tom Petty Rap

Do you pick Britney, just because she's hilarious (and it's cool to be kitschy), or opt for Dylan and Petty, because Highway 61 Revisited is pretty sweet, even though "Free fallin'" is totally lame? OR -- do you go with rap, because it's like, the music of the future? (Ok, I just made that up. I would never pick rap.)

Luckily, despite this difficulties, I was ultimately triumphant on this quiz, garnering the result "Ice"



Apparently, I can freeze a person from across the room!

Stilllllllll, everyone knows that one internet quiz does not a cool person make -- so in the interest of fairness, I decided to get a second opinion. And thus on to google result number 2.

This quiz, entitled "Are you a LOSER?", is a little more pessimistic -- the title doesn't even MENTION being cool, but just asks straight-up if you're NOT. Harsh.




My verdict? Accordingly to this bad boy, I am NOT a loser -- in fact I'm cooler than 67% of people. However, 34% of people are cooler than me. You know what's super cool? Percentages that add to 100!




Google result #3 is called "Just how cool are you?" I liked this quiz because it was super short, and words were generally spelled correctly. It also asked me how many friends I had, and I was able to check the "50+" choice because, according to Facebook, I have 600 friends.


The only problem? I think this quiz is trying to tell me I'm a poser..."climbing the ladder to cool status" doesn't exactly sound like ICE (Quiz #1 was right on the money.) How many rungs do I have to climb before I reach the illustrious "cool status"? And most importantly: does this still apply if I'm not in high school? I wish my "cool" friends were here to give me some answers!

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Best New Music: Dinosaur Feathers

Based out of Brooklyn, NY (seriously: where else?) Dinosaur Feathers are a pop-tastic trio who use drum machines, harmonies and West African rhythms to craft eccentric pop songs that reel you in with their energy and joyousness.

Live at Webster Hall. (Photo (c) Free Williamsburg.)

However, unlike other Africa-obsessed New Yorkers (I'm looking at you, Ezra Koenig), Dinosaur Feathers have the cred to back it up: front man Greg Sullo spent several months studying in Mali in college; he later returned there post-grad and let the influences seep into his writing.

Still, DF aren't ALL conga drums and hang claps -- rather a healthy love of Os Mutantes, Gilberto Gil, and of course, Les Beatles -- informs their tunes -- which makes their debut LP, Fantasy Memorial, all the more fantastical. Read more -- and love more -- at Phrequency.com.

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The beach at AC was deserted this weekend...

...which I found rather surprising, being that it's only a matter of time before oil seeps up the East Coast and destroys it for good (I hope not.)

Here are some shots from my languid weekend getaway...










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Demographic Study: The Chubster

The Chubster, as defined by Urban Dictionary, is: "An overweight person who considers themself to be a hipster. Usually existing in suburban areas and may be found in high school, junior high or community college."

Google image result #1 for "Fat hipster." Well done google.

Of course, not all overweight, MGMT-loving teens and 20-somethings are chubsters -- rather, the chubster differentiates him or herself from regular overweight hipsters by going completely over-the-top with his/her fashion -- usually choosing loud, colorful, of-the-moment items which ensure that he/she will be noticed. (As if it's possible to overlook them!) Others chose upsettingly small or tight-fitting clothing, with seemingly little regard for how they look in these items. Whether they're conscientiously molding themselves into a hipster parody or truly think they look good, the world may never know.

Dan Deacon: chubster hipstronomous. To say nothing of the large,
practically naked man standing behind him. Is he wearing a diaper?

Personality-wise, the chubster is chatty and quick-witted, always ready with slew of fiery comebacks at the tip of his/her tongue -- really a defense mechanism developed during childhood, to protect from school yard bullies. He/she also holds a strong affinity for irony, which is appropriate, given his/her love of veggie burgers (as if going veg makes you lose weight) and I Love My Mom tee-shirts.

Jay McCarroll: designer, Philebrity, supporter of Rachelfest parties, chubster.

Luckily, compared to other hipsterish types (see: the Scene-cophant, the WTTW, Stay Classy Lassie), the Chubster is relatively harmless and fun to be around -- provided you don't have to sit next to them on a long flight. (Or even a short flight, for that matter!) Show the chubster that their weight doesn't bother you by complimenting them on their swim trunks and you're guaranteed a fast friend -- just make sure the fridge is properly stocked, and your living room equipped with ample seating.

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Haiku Review: CocoRosie

Haiku Review is a new segment in which I review -- in 21 syllables! -- recently
attended concerts. Complete with links to full reviews!


Cherokee sisters
craft beautiful, strange trip-hop
that shimmers; so bright



Photo Inna S. for Phrequency.com


Read the full review here!

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Best New Music: Light Pollution

Like smog, which is terrible for the environment but just makes sunsets so pretty (/writes beautifully melancholic songs) -- Light Pollution is a rampant urban epidemic that maybe isn't actually so bad, aesthetic-wise.

Pretty?

The same holds true for Chicago's Light Pollution: a dreamy, shoe-gaze-y foursome whose hazy tunes resonate in the air like beams of light -- all the while reacting to a cruel and lonely world. (For proof, check out their "influences", as listed on Myspace -- note very sudden, discrete periods of intense anxiety, mounting physiological arousal, and difficulties with spatial orientation).

Why is Light Pollution so damn lovely? It's the world caving in on itself. Read more -- and get lost in their tunes -- at Phrequency.com. Bill Callahan would be proud.

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Music Video Mondays: Ghosty

Ghosty are a band from the heart of America, the great wheat fields-and-grains city of Lawrence, Kansas [note: this statement based on old stereotypes only] where melodies are light-hearted and lyrics deceptively deep -- such as in this little ditty, which uses photo slideshows to dizzying effect:

This track is an old favorite from their 2008 LP, Answers -- if you like what you hear, check out their new EP, Team Up Again, out now on their own More Famouser Records.

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Neighborhood Watch: The Piazza is cursed, just maybe

I'm not normally one to get sentimental over random murders (this is Killadelphia, after all) -- but this story (poor, slain waitress in Northern Liberties) is just KILLING me (pun not intended) and begs the question: Is the Piazza at Schmidt's CURSED?

The Piazza, July '09. Tiff Yoon for Phrequency.com.

I'm asking (no one in particular and everyone in general) because that's the way it seems anymore -- this poor girl's death comes less than a year after the double murders that rocked the neighborhood last June. Sabina didn't live at Piazza, but she worked at PYT -- and unlike previous murder victims, who maybe were a little bit shady/drug-deal-y -- this wide-eyed youngster was described by friends and neighbors as pretty much the sweetest thing ever.

Sabina. From Tommy Up's twitter/ Philly.com.

I didn't know Sabina personally (according to FB, we have just 2 friends in common), and of course, I don't know the specifics of the situation. But there's no reason for such a cruel and unusual act to EVER occur -- especially not around midnight on a Wednesday in front of her own home. My heart goes out to this girl -- who suffered more than anyone should suffer, EVER -- and makes me fear for my own life, all those nights I'm stuck walking back from Fishtown alone after a show. What is wrong with our city that such acts can happen, and why this girl?

I'm sure answers will trickle out slowly, and I'll be waiting. In the meantime: Sabina, I didn't know you, but you're in my thoughts. Rest in peace.

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Best New Music: Suckers

Like delicious dum dums, and almost every person who's been on Punk'd (you know, suckers), Brooklyn's Suckers taste good, and are good sports too -- especially when the sport in question is throwing an outrageous party.

From their Myspace. The man with the pink hat is the lead singer; the South
Asian dude is Yeasayer's Anand Wilder, and where are the bodies of the
two hugging girls in the back right?

A Brooklyn quartet with a penchant for zaniness (as if you couldn't guess from the photo!) -- Suckers spent the last 3 years slowly building a name for themselves the old-fashioned way: through relentless touring, and excellent song-writing, the result of which looked something like this:

Now, they're back with Wild Smile, a debut album as quirky as Odd Blood and pop-tastic as Travellers--only with more falsetto, and lyrics about endoscopic (yes, I had to look that word up) examinations. But that's not all. Check out my FOUR REASONS why Suckers are about to explode like woah at the ONLY site I constantly link to, Phrequency.com.

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