Ghostface, who found considerable success not only in the seminal collective he was a leading member of, but also in his subsequent solo career. He’s known for his dynamic flow and surrealistic storytelling style. Tonight, him and his crew almost tore the roof off of the Englert.

Before that, though, local hip-hop heroes AWTHNTKTS opened the show. Made up of three rappers and a DJ, they brought a surprising amount of energy and were a great start to the night. At this point, though, the house wasn’t completely filled yet, and I had no idea what was in store for later.

Each rapper in the group had a distinct flow, and they all had good stage presence and a synergy that translated into a very fun performance.

Up next, and unknown to me, was Free Murda, a Wu-Tang affiliated rapper. He didn’t stay for long but performed a few of his songs to hype up the energy for Ghostface. I don’t know if the rest of the crowd knew him either, but they ate it up either way.

The Englert isn’t the first place that pops into your head when you think of a rap concert, but the energy from the crowd bounced around the room and electrified every performer. I was pleasantly surprised at how well the genre fit the venue, and how it completely turned my expectations upside down.

Once Ghostface finally arrived on stage, the place went wild. I mean this was an actual member of Wu-Tang right in front of us. These guys practically defined hip-hop for a very large period of time, and their influence still rings true today. At this point, the theater was absolutely packed. I don’t know if it was sold out; there were almost no people in the balcony area that I could see, but the main floor was fuller than I’d ever seen it. Whatever the numbers were, it felt like it was bursting at the seams.

The experience of seeing Ghostface Killah is hard to put into words. It’s wild. The crowd was rapping along to a lot of the songs, as he performed many of the Wu-Tang hits that made him the legend he is today. Songs like “C.R.E.A.M.” and “Protect Ya Neck” had the crowd rapping along and jumping in the air, waving their arms around and just out right yelling.

For the latter song, he invited some crowd participants to come on stage and rap the verses by other Wu-Tang members, but only if they knew the verses well and could rap them to his crew before coming on stage. The process took a long time, finally producing one person who actually pulled it off and drove the crowd wild, and another drunk, bumbling man who was really there for comic relief. Overall it was cool to see them interacting with so many people.

At another time, they invited a whole bunch of girls from the crowd to come dance on stage. Things got…well, you can probably imagine. I won’t go into details about it. But it was fun to watch.

Ghostface kept driving in the point that whatever energy the crowd gave to them, they would give back. It made us all get louder and jump higher, resulting in an incredible performance from the crew. I would say he wasn’t let down, and maybe even go as far to say that he was surprised at how much Iowa could turn up. He mentioned it being his first time in Iowa City, but he also mentioned he could have been wrong about that.

After the show, he stood on stage awhile signing shirts and taking photos, then took a whole bunch of girls backstage to drink. After Andrew Bird last night and Tennis on Friday, this Mission Creek is shaping up to one of the best yet.

The post Mission Creek: Ghostface Killah @ Englert Theater 4/5/2017 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Before the show, Mission Creek co-founder and director of the Englert Theater, Andre Perry, came on stage to speak with the director of Hancher, a new addition to the venue lineup for the festival. They talked about the history of the two organizations along with the benefits of partnership in our community. None of this would be possible without the help of many sponsors from around our area, and their collective excitement in contributing to the culture of Iowa City.

My Brightest Diamond came out with only two members. Shara, the songwriter and core of the project, started out on guitar alongside the same drummer that would go on to play in Andrew’s band later in the night. They explored different sounds and transcended genres with just the two of them, a feat that was pretty cool to see in person.

Shara is a unique character, with a style and grace all her own. From the movements of her arms to her classically trained voice, she can really capture an audience just by being something we probably haven’t seen before. In today’s music world, in which a surfeit of bands are grasping for spotlight, it’s great to see someone who really deserves to stick out from the rest.

Her stage presence was great, too. She was funny, and you could tell she was having fun too. She’d gone to high school somewhere else in Iowa, and made a few jokes about coming to Iowa City because we threw the best parties. Shara even asked the crowd to participate a little bit with some singing and clapping at different points. Asking the crowd to clap is a risky move; most performers try to avoid that at all costs.

She was also politically outspoken, mentioning Trayvon Martin and the Flint water crisis between songs, with solidarity and an exuberant want to change the course of things.

After a set that I wish would have lasted just a bit longer, Andrew Bird finally took the stage.

Let me take the time here to mention how BEAUTIFUL Hancher is. It was my first time there and–it just escapes words. Go see something there. Ok. Back to it.

He came out by himself, starting with a solo jam on violin using his looper, a friendly tool that would become the most utilized on his musician’s tool belt.

Andrew played a mix of old and new material, I assume per usual. He’s quite prolific, not only in his immense solo catalog but in his lending of talent to other peoples’ projects. “The Naming of Things” and “A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left” were some of the tunes he pulled from his old songbook, while “Capsized”, from his latest record, was one of the many fresh ones.

But even his old ones felt brand new: Andrew Bird has the magnificent habit of improvisation. You’ll never really hear him play the same song the same way twice. All of my favorites that he performed I hardly recognized at first, as he’d changed some things around and reinterpreted the music.

He put on a nearly perfect performance that would impress the snottiest of critics along with the average music listener. He played so many instruments! Bird would begin a song by looping picked notes on his violin, go over and pick up his guitar, sing while he played it, whistle like a god, then get his violin out again and take a solo. He even played some bells! His undeniable talent was captivating, and everything that he gave to us, the audience gave back.

Andrew Bird brought on Shara and Margaret Glaspy at different times as well. Bird is no stranger to collaboration.

During “Plasticities”, the lights along the balconies of Hancher came alight, and an audible “wow” could be heard from the audience. I didn’t even know they were lights.

Apparently, Bird’s parents met on the steps of Currier Hall. Just a little thing he mentioned, no big deal.

Finally, he played “Pulaski at Night”, a song I’d been hoping for weeks that he would play. It was his closing song, but he came back out for an encore, and even ended up adding a song he didn’t plan on playing just because the audience was revved up and wanted more. His actual last song was “Fake Palindromes”, a hit song that drove the crowd wild.

I don’t take this lightly at all: this is one of the greatest shows I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

This is going to be a great Mission Creek.

The post Mission Creek: Andrew Bird @ Hancher 4/4/2017 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

His back-up band was none other than The Felice Brothers, longtime collaborators of his. With a conventional folk-rock band lineup, the band compliments Conor’s unshakable control of the stage and never overpower him. They also opened up the show with a set of their own music, and even though they looked like the didn’t really care, the music was fine and didn’t cross any barriers for opening bands.

Before Conor came on, the crowd got a little bigger and continued to grow through the small delay, caused by a malfunctioning piece of equipment which had to be replaced. By the time he played it was pretty packed, rightfully so for someone of his stature.

He opened with a newer song that quickly transitioned into a Bright Eyes classic from their album Cassadaga called “Four Winds,” which featured the full-length violin solo from the original recording, served up with the same urgency and vitality that comes across on record. I’ve seen Conor a few times and this rendition of the song seemed more unhinged than any other instance. It fit with the sound because he used more electric guitar than acoustic or piano.

One of his latest albums, Ruminations, resonates with its title by being a solemn album featuring low production and small instrumentation: Conor on the guitar or piano with a harmonica slung around his neck. These songs are introspective and the songs surprisingly hold up as an album despite being very local to a certain sound. His most recent album, Salutations, contains 10 full-band fleshed out versions of Ruminations songs plus some brand new ones.

“Gossamer Thin,” a song that exists on both of the albums, was the best performance of one of his new songs. It’s catchy as a solo song and even better expanded, using the Felice Brothers in their fullest extent.

Conor reached back into his own solo career, playing “Time Forgot” before reaching back even further and pulling out a Monsters of Folk song. Monsters of Folk is a super-group band that Conor was in featuring Jim James of My Morning Jacket, M. Ward, and Mike Mogis, a longtime collaborator of Conor’s and a member of Bright Eyes.

It was interesting to see him pull from different points in his life while trying to tie it all together. He played the songs with a practiced certainty but still remained open to the sometimes improvisational nature of his singing. Unlike the Felice Brothers, Conor did not seem bored at all, and responded very well to the large crowd, who continually let him know how much they loved him.

His talking with the crowd was sometimes humorous, asking us at some point “What did you guys do all day? Have barbecues? Write poems?” He even took some time to make a jab at the president, following suit with his anti-Bush songs during that era.

“Poison Oak” and “Train Under Water” were two of the Bright Eyes classics he pulled out, feeling as emotional as they day he wrote them. He was called on for an encore, per usual, and closed out the set with “Napalm” from his latest album.

The most evident part of Conor’s current creative head-space is his seeming attachment to his back-up band. He seemed musically in love and very connected to their music and to their interpretations of his songs. Will these be the people he’s making music with in five years? We’ll see.

The post Concert Review: Conor Oberst @ Englert Theatre 3/26/2017 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

But then the next day is greatest day of your life.

That’s how Hang feels, the triumphant return after the cacophonous mess that was Foxygen’s last album: …And Star Power.

Now, this is a review of Hang, but so much of this record’s glory shines only in the shadow of previous missteps. Calling their last album a mistake would be wrong, as it felt like a natural step in the strange life of this band, even if the step missed solid ground a little bit. It was what some music nerds would deem their “vodka record”, one that finds them all knotted up and pissed after a strange night.

Hang is a clear morning, a record for dancing around your room and for close analytic inspection.

Foxygen is a band of drama. Their music takes on a flair last seen in the 70’s, when hip-swinging, androgynous disco and rock masters ruled the stage. It’s obvious to see the inspiration they’ve retained from other musicians in this way.

Besides theatrical drama, the band explodes with personal drama as well. After much infighting and even a farewell tour, it seemed the band was doomed. That’s why this record, which contradicts and perhaps lays to rest those rumors, is in fact a glorious return to form.

The arrangements on this record are what stand out the most. Where their last album felt like the band riding on their fame and buzz from their breakout record, We Are The 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace & Magic, which rightly found a large amount of critical success, this album let’s us know that it was a conscious effort to make really good music.

The very first song, “Follow The Leader”, runs us through some rock tropes with immediacy. A string section slide, some downbeat hits, and an overall introductory rhythm before the we’re giving the first lyrics: “Hey baby, you know it’s true. I’m in love with you.” The way he breaks up the syllables and sings it with a Jagger syncopation could lead one to think this all lacks originality, but the delivery, which almost escapes words, acts as a complete reinvention of everything we’ve ever known about old-school rock.

The piano and keyboard sounds take an interesting role on this record. “Avalon” starts out with a ragtime jam, lilting through familiar chord progressions which culminate in the classic toss-back between the lead singer and his backup singers repeating or responding to what he says. Throw in a time change and some big-band inspired horns, and you’ve got a tapestry of classic rock.

“Mrs. Adams” is the least remarkable song on the album, but still contains all the things the rest of the songs do, and feels inseparable from the album.

Each song is so dense with changes in mood and feel, each piece leaves nothing left unsaid and no mystery. In this case, it’s an advantage. This isn’t just some cliché rock band utilizing the somber drum-guitar-bass-guitar-singer set up, but one that has many different instruments on each track, and it can often be hard to decipher what the instruments even are.

All of this asks the listener to imagine this record being performed live, a task which, after so many listens, continues to elude the listener.

“America” continues to show this incredible musical prowess. This song plays out like a number from a musical. It moves like a dance, sometimes slowly, other times with loud Sgt. Pepper-esque horn blasts, consistently changing and relying on no conventions. It is almost progressive, the way it doesn’t really return to any hook or certain catchy riff which would feel like a cop-out.

Tempo and mood changes force images into your heads. In the way that someone lecturing you on classical music would implore you to imagine a visual story in your head as the song plays out, this song does the same, and takes on a seriously playful neo-classical essence.

Jumping between racing drums and fast, chromatically charged piano runs, then suddenly throwing you into a swing jazz tempo, saxophone included, Foxygen is breaking all the boundaries they’ve ever set for themselves; something this band does on each record, no matter how bad or good the album is as a whole.

“On Lankershim” is one of the songs on the record that has a music video to accompany it. The relaxed mood of the song reflects well in the images in the video, which are mostly bland but for some reason pull you in. This song also echoes their 21st Century album the most, a nice moment in the otherwise avant-garde record, as it brings about familiarity and a wholesome sense of sound within the canon of the band.

“Upon A Hill” is the shortest song on the record, and comes out as a sort of interlude. Their aren’t any dull, ambient moments on this record, so this song is a nice break from the long, theatrical numbers. The following “Trauma” and “Rise Up” are the most emotionally taught songs on the record, and caps it off in usual Foxygen fashion.

This record is treat for both long-time fans of the band and newcomers to their sound. You’ll find all sorts of things in the album, as if you were blindly pulling candy from a bag on Halloween as a child, and each piece is so different and exciting without ever giving you a cavity. You can find the record on Spotify or buy it from Foxygen’s website.

8/10

The post Album Review: Foxygen’s “Hang” appeared first on KRUI Radio.

I was milling around the building before the show started, and headed up to the second floor where a beer tasting was happening, put on by Oskar Blues Brewery, a sponsor of the show. I didn’t even know there was an art gallery in the Englert, and the space was tight with people. The lines were much too long for me so I passed up on that, but I was glad to see a full house for one of my favorite bands.

Dawes’ latest and fifth record, “We’re All Gonna Die” is their biggest departure in sound, but it feels natural. After four albums of Americana hits, from large anthems to quaint, reassuring acoustic numbers, Dawes has finally mixed it all together to make a sound so unique and fresh that is at the same time close to their roots.

I saw Dawes a few years back in Omaha, where they were the opening act and back up band for Conor Oberst on one of his solo tours. I was already a fan at that point, but was still impressed by the show they put on. All of the expectations I had for this show were completely blown out of the water before the show had started. With two risers of drums, keys, and amps, all laid out in front of a large white screen which would become host to a show of wild and rhythmic colors, the stage set-up alone showed their growth.

Dawes did not bring an opening act for this show, and for good reason: they were here to show us that they could hold their own, and rock out on their five albums full of hits without needing anyone else. In a way it called out to the marathon concerts of greats like Bruce Springsteen, but it would be a crime to really compare this band to anyone else.

Dawes played two sets tonight, and opened the first one with the first song on their new album. “One Of Us” is a perfect example of the evolution of Dawes: it has Taylor’s classic voice, as always, and that prophetic yet humble tone that the band brings to every piece. This time around, though, the songs expand into longer jam sessions with electronic drums, keyboards, and other sounds not previously heard on Dawes records.

The crowd was very receptive from the start, even if it did take them till “When My Time Comes” to actually get out of their seats and dance. Whatever we gave them, Dawes gave it right back. The energy was tremendous and only got better throughout.

Taylor’s voice is probably the most distinctive part of the band. Even live, his voice alone sounds like a choir. He’s matched with harmonies from different members of the band at different points in the set, but he’s always on top of the chord leading the notes. His lyrics, which rival the breadth and insight of folk music’s greatest songwriters, still feel urgent when performed live. Songs new and old both feel like they’re coming from a part of the band that is anything but mundane and indifferent.

At this point in their career, Dawes are masters of their set. They easily weave in and out of moods like they’re skating on ice, bringing the crowd along through all the theatrics. The way they order the songs was perfectly tempered, allowing space to breathe and laugh after some of the deeper cuts. At one point, Taylor sang through half of their song “: Time Spent in Los Angeles” before moving immediately into “Most People”. That transition proved their professionalism and consciousness of sound.

Check out their music video for “Time Spent in Los Angeles”.

After a short intermission, the band came back out in a different form. They performed semi-acoustic renditions of songs that are normally full band, aided by building harmonies as each member got back on stage and back into their spot.

This showed their talent and diversity within their own canon. Not only are their albums wonderful, cohesive pieces, but their live shows are complex and flat out entertaining.

There was an endless supply of sing along sections that the band seemed very proud of. Sometimes they’d step away from the mic and let the crowd take over, like they did at the very end of the show with “All Your Favorite Bands”, in which the last line is “…and may all your favorite bands stay together.” It was fitting as they held up their instruments, waved goodbye, and left the stage.

The post Concert Review: Dawes @ The Englert 2/4/2017 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

They say time flies when you’re having fun, and that implies some sense of happiness, but time has flown for Tim Kasher as well. Tim is the lead singer and primary songwriter of the band Cursive, and fills the same position for his other band, The Good Life. Both of these bands are known for their gloomy outlook on most situations and the aggresive (or gently pessimistic) way those thoughts are presented.

Cursive rose to critical acclaim with their album The Ugly Organ, originally released in 2003. It was put out through Saddle Creek, a record label that also supports the infamous Bright Eyes, along with many other notable artists. The band reissued the record in 2014 with another disc of B-side tracks.

The record opens with an ambient prelude, “The Ugly Organist.” It is a combination of small, faint conversations paired with a swelling organ sound that grows into loud, dissonant chords. One can only assume this is the “Ugly Organ”. It ends with some intelligible shouting that resembles an angry circus ringleader.

This immediately sets off the album as cohesive and thought-out, as opposed to taking the easy way out with a random pile of disconnected songs. It would be a stretch to call this a concept album, but there is an absolute and intangible ghost that haunts every song alike.

I first got into Tim Kasher’s music through his band The Good Life. Their record “Album of the Year” fell into my hands when I was searching for bands that sounded like Bright Eyes, and they do, which is why hearing Cursive for the first time was jarring.

The second track and first song, “Some Red-Handed Slight Of Hand,” is a short and tense piece that forces you into the album and out of the ambient nature of the preface. It’s a little abrasive at first, but they really show off their cello player in the opening riff, aligning it with distorted guitar and giving us that wonderful experience of acoustic instruments fused with electronics.

This song also sets off a running theme we’ll encounter later in the record: self loathing. Tim sings in the intro, “And now we proudly present/Songs perverse and song of lament.” It’s fair to think that Tim is the model for the “Ugly Organist,” and much of the album is then rendered as introspection, both into one’s life and also the art they create. “Sing along, I’m on the ugly organ” he continues.

“Art Is Hard” continues in the same angsty vein, once again showing off the cello with a lead position. This song really takes the musical introspection to a new level. In the lyrics, Tim is calling out the young artist; someone who thinks art must come from suffering, even if it’s useless and self-imposed, just to “boost your CD sales”. “Gotta sink to swim” is another lyric tossed throughout the song, and it’s said with irony. Is he bashing another artist in particular, or is he looking inside and finding something worth making fun of?

This could also be interpreted as a bash on the music industry as a whole, which was very different then than it is now, or at least for small labels and artists.

“The Recluse” is one of the best tracks on the album, and definitely one of Cursive’s most well known songs. Its lost some of the emo edge the first songs had, but is replaced with a slight gentleness and some near-whispered lyrics.

The song finds our troubadour trapped in the web of a stranger’s bed the morning after. “I wake alone in a woman’s room I hardly know. I wake alone and pretend that I am finally home” comes as an intro and a bit of a refrain within the song, poising it as a central image. Following suit, introspecting ensues. He questions his desperate nature and the life of a popular artist in the modern world.

The album continues with another ambient transitional piece. While the casual listener may blow these off for whatever reason, they really add an interesting texture and context to the album. One of the ways a group can make their album cohesive is by doing something like this: painting the album in a way that pushes the listener to hear it as one continuous piece, or at least arguing that it deserves a full sit down and listen-through.

“Herald! Frankenstein” only has one line of lyrics, at the very end: “I can’t stop the monster I created.”

The next song is the most important thematically. Tim both directly confronts himself and his own name along with the ugly organ itself. “Butcher the Song” is about Tim’s ex-wife, and how she always found herself in his songs as the antagonist and enemy of the singer. This seems relevant and sensible: of course the tortured song writer is going to write about his or her muse, good or bad, because it is their muse.

The song if full of heavy downbeats, making it one of the most aggressive songs on the record.

“Driftwood: A Fairy Tale” takes a bit of a lighter route sonically, and is a prime example of the flexibility of this band. The groove is similar to “The Recluse,” but now the lyrics are poised in the narrative of a fairy tale. Tim even name drops Pinocchio.

“A Gentleman Caller” comes back to a viscous sound we’ve heard on this record before. The song doesn’t stick out from the others, but the thematic nature of the album and continuing themes makes it difficult to remove from the canon.

You’ve really got to feel sorry for this guy at this point–there are so many bad things in his head. Luckily, the song ends with a positive outro that doesn’t sound like the rest of the song: “The worst is over.”

“Harold Weathervain” is another narrative piece, this time about a weatherman. The lyrics are sparse and cryptic, but the wailing guitar, dissonant chords, and what sounds like some sort of church bell all make for a clear and gripping mood within the song. “Weather man, do you feel? Is it stormy inside of your veins?”

The trading guitar/cello riff at the beginning of the next song, “Bloody Murderer,” is great. We see a return of those bells, this time feeling more in place and necessary than the other song. Cello, guitar, and bells all meet in the middle for some main melody lines.

This band at once gives us a relentless hard rock sound, tinged with emo influences, but refines it all with some classical instruments that honestly never feel out of place once on the record. “Sierra” falls in line with all of this. It mixes myth with introspection, and proves Tim Kasher as a really talented song writer, but I can’t help but feel that I could use a little more variety at this point. Cursive lets their incredible honed-in sound get the best of them sometimes.

The closer, “Staying Alive,” is a drawn-out 10 minute piece. There aren’t many lyrics, but they do leave us with a little bit of positivity to take home. The singer has decided to stay alive, assuming that they’ve been considering otherwise, and reprise the line “The worst is over.” This song is so tense, and it feels the least angry. By the end of the record perhaps some peace was found, whether or not the organist is happy or better off–at least they’re still breathing, “Kicking and screaming/ Blood boiling and streaming.”

The question I really want to answer with these Time Capsule columns is whether or not these records have aged well. After years of listening, I’m back from the darkness to tell you that this album ages almost perfectly. It retains a beautiful sonic moment in music history: the early 2000’s, with all it’s pop-punk and emo glory, while reaching out a hand from the past into the future and giving us enough space to listen to this album for decades to come. The pure musical craftsmanship of this album can’t be ignored.

The post Time Capsule: Cursive’s “The Ugly Organ” Review appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Besides bands and comedians, this festival holds discussions and panels from a huge range of disciplines. Beforeplay was a panel discussion held at the Mill at 2 pm on the second day of festivities. Like the title suggests, the panel was exploring the process of playtesting, which is essentially the game maker putting the game in the hands of some trusted peers in order to receive some very early and important feedback.

This connects to one of the main pillars of Witching Hour: exploring the creative process. With that phrase, one usually summons to the mind an image of a painter or a music producer, but the creative process is really embedded in almost everything we do as humans.

Especially play.

Obviously, play was central theme of the panel. Play is something that crosses all cultures and is an inherent part of the human experience. That’s why these panels members wanted to dig into the very genesis of it.

The panel consisted of various people involved in the gaming world, both video games and tabletop board games. This diversity was an important part of the panel.

As it went on, we discovered the places where the creative process was similar or dissimilar between the two types of gaming. They even took a quick poll of the audience at the beginning to see what people in the crowd like to play.

The panel was moderated by Wesley Berry. Some other panel member were  David Miessler-Kubanek, Eric Neuhaus, Tyler Persinger, and Jon Lonngren. 

The first place they went in the discussion was the creative process itself, and how inspiration is gained and utilized. John said that the process of making a game is “1% inspiration and 99% perspiration,” a reference to the fact that ideas are essentially useless unless acted upon. He also explained that it had to be a grueling process, and there are always going to be moments when you question yourself, in any creative mode.

Most of the panel members agreed with this idea. A few of them even said the figure of 1% is too large. That’s why play testing is so important: you can test your ideas with a real, tangible audience.

The next question was straightforward: in the process of making games, when do you know you have enough to show people?

Tyler said he had no shame about it. He’s show people the bare bones, right when there was anything at all to show people. He liked to include that feedback as early as possible to make it available for purchase as fast as possible. He also said he thinks of these creative efforts in a business oriented manner, so expedience was important.

One thing that all of the game developers on the panel agreed on was that the first version of something that you show to people should be ugly. If you give them a wobbly prototype but make it pretty, they’ll tend to think of it as a finished product, possibly throwing off the truer opinions and feedback they need to hear.

Also, know what you’re looking for. Have some specific parts of the game that you focus in on for a session of playtesting, and ask questions that get specific feedback. If you don’t know what you’re trying to fix, you’ll end up fixing something that isn’t broken.

The relationship between creator and player is a complex one, at all levels. From a consumer to a playtester, the creator is making the game for those people.

It was interesting to hear creative people from different genres all diving into the same concept. There were moments of agreement (most of them) and a few moments where ideas couldn’t be further apart from each other.

It was interesting for me to learn about the culture of board games. I haven’t really played any of the games like the ones they made, but I do play a lot of video games.

The discussion was very different from my preconceived vision of it, but that is exactly the point of Witching Hour. It made me think about the games I play but from a creator’s perspective, and also about looking into new types of games I’ve never tried before like satta king.

The post Witching Hour: Beforeplay: An exploration of the art of playtesting @ The Mill 11/5/16 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Low played at the Englert Theater at 11 p.m. on the first night of Witching Hour. I really have to hand it to the curators of this festival; 11 at night is a perfect time to listen to this band.

The band feels like the worn-out metaphor of a blanket: their sound wraps you up and takes you somewhere. Your eyes are closed behind a blindfold and the beautiful vocal harmonies are the only bit of light shining through. But it’s great, because these harmonies, split between guitarist and drummer (married couple Alan and Mimi) are so striking against the instrumentation.

The instrumentation is often described as minimalist, at once because they have only 3 members, but again when the arrangements feel very conscious. Some electronic instruments will occasionally find their way into songs, never really taking the ship by the wheel but always adding more beauty.

I have to say, though, as a denizen of Iowa City, that I’d have liked to see this band at the Yacht Club. Not that the theater wasn’t fitting in its own way, but there is something inherently intimate about their music (like a lover’s whisper in your ear) and something inherently removing about the Englert. That’s also not to say that the Yacht Club is my favorite venue in Iowa City either, I’ve just seen some bands there that have surprised me in that dark, dank setting.

The songs in their set don’t build to a climax like you’d expect. They start with a slow tempo and end with a slow tempo, the volume not changing much either. Where some would see this as a negative, it really helps elucidate the emotion or setting they want to convey. The guitar ends up taking a lot of narrative weight and control in most songs, with the resplendent vocal harmonies being the acutely decorated picture frame it all exists in.

The drum set was slightly irregular: a floor tom, a snare drum, and two ride cymbals. In one hand, she held a brush, the other, what looked like a cymbal mallet. This, too, added to their unique sonic aesthetic. The bass player would switch to piano sometimes, ripping the floor out from beneath some of the songs and instead adding a staircase that complimented the guitar playing.

Low didn’t speak much at all between songs, but it felt natural and a bold part of the set. If there wasn’t music, there was a tense silence. The crowd didn’t yell obnoxious shit like you’d expect them too. There was some sort of somber air, like a funeral, rife with respect and remembrance.

One of the few things they said into the mic between songs was a shout out and dedication to Pussy Riot, showing respect and solidarity towards their activism.

The crowd at the show wasn’t enormous, but the show was so good that they were called back on for an encore. They asked the crowd for a request. I shouted “Sunflower”, along with some people around me, and I swear we weren’t done saying the word before they were playing the song.

This was a really great show, and I’m glad Witching Hour can get a hold of musicians like this to come and perform in our city.

The post Witching Hour: Low @ Englert Theater 11/4/16 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

The first night of Witching Hour held probably the most prominent event, a lively discussion between Jessica Hopper, Pussy Riot member Maria Alyokhina, MediaZona collaborator Sasha Bogino, and Pussy Riot supporter and friend Alexander Cheparukhin.

The discussion started with a small part of a 2 hour documentary about Pussy Riot and how they connect with the long history of protest art. It also shows their ideological drift towards feminism, and how they became a female-only group. The film was called Act & Punishment, and the 13 minute clip was made by the director specifically for this event.

If you can find the film, I recommend watching it. It’s a comprehensive history of Pussy Riot and it displays them in the light they deserve.

The first question, given by “moderator” Jessica Hopper, was directed towards Maria. She asked her about her first introduction to protest art, or how that kind of performance became something she was interested in, to which Maria replied: “I’ve never been a serious person.” Although most of the topics discussed were quite serious, there were many moments of laughter as well–a perfect portrait of the complex political aesthetic of Pussy Riot.

She went on to talk about her time before Pussy Riot, when she engaged in what she called “classical activism.” Maria was working to save a forest in Russia, and spent her time gathering signatures and organizing demonstrations.

Now she is doing a different kind of performance: theater. Maria is now involved in a “very underground” theater group, acting out a play she helped write that depicts her time in prison, the raw harshness of her experience in Russian jail, along with the story of another political prisoner in Russia. This is meant to show that Pussy Riot aren’t the only ones in Russia using art to protest the patriarchy–it is a movement.

The experience of Russian prison was a hot topic during the discussion. “For me, its not finished,” said Maria, indicating that even though she was released, these events are going to stick with her forever.

The first question directed towards Sasha was about the current state of anti-Putinist art in Russia. Although she is more of a journalist than a performance artist, Sasha, who is still quite young to be doing what she is doing, had some wisdom for us: “There are many ways and forms of activism.”

Sasha is a journalist for MediaZona, an independent news outlet in Russia founded by the members of Pussy Riot. The state of the media in Russia right now is not too different form how it has always been: the state media gets all the money from the government and big corporations, while independent outlets are left to fend for themselves, choosing justice and activism over a profit or merger with state media.

Right now, almost all of the articles written by MediaZona are in Russian. They have collaborated with a few English news outlets, like the Guardian, to have some of the especially important articles translated, and are looking to have more translated in the future. The larger the audience, the better.

One of the main ideas behind this news outlet is exposure. According to Maria, if you have public attention, you are safe–they won’t kill you at least. For Pussy Riot, they became an international sensation right away, and the whole of the world had their eyes on them. This kept them from being tortured or killed by Russian authorities. Unfortunately, there are many political prisoners in Russia, and they’re not all lucky enough to have the kind of attention Pussy Riot did. So, if they can cover these stories on a big outlet, it will hopefully keep them safe.

And so far, it’s been going well. MediaZona has risen to the 7th most popular news source in Russia, which Alexander compared to a “student newspaper in Iowa competing with New York Times.”

Jessica asked Sasha what is was like working as a journalist in Russia, and despite the dangers, she answered with a laugh: “It’s pretty fun.” She has been working for the outlet for about a year, about half as long as its been around.

The next topic was feminism in Russia. Everyone on the panel agreed that Russia was late to feminist ideology, most likely because there were not a lot (if any at all) women politicians for young girls to look up to in Russia. If there were, they weren’t feminists. Maria said this extends from the way Stalin ran the country, halting any and all feminist movements or ideas before they took hold.

Maria explained that she was exposed to feminism while she was 18 and pregnant. The endless barrage of anti-abortion propaganda all over Russia got her thinking about the rights she had and the rights she deserved.

Near the end of the conversation, Jessica asked the panel how they felt about the American election. Everybody laughed.

After the discussion, MediaZona shirts were being sold, with that being one of their only sources of income, because no one in Russia wants to give them money. Iowa City was a good crowd for this; they sold out of shirts.

All the members of the panel were standing around the shirts after the discussion taking pictures, signing autographs, and discussing more ideas. I spoke with Maria for a bit about the future of Pussy Riot, and how they will be seen from the future.

“I’m not thinking about icons right now,” she explained. “Everyone has their own story, everyone is making choices in life…everyone has their story, you just have ‘to do’.”

The girls in Pussy Riot don’t want to be icons. Role models, sure, maybe. But they insisted on the fact that they are just people, doing things that most people could do if they just did it.

I also got to talk to Sasha a little more in-depth about the current state of media in Russia. I told her I was a journalist as well, but our experiences writing were probably vastly different. She reiterated many of the points made in the discussion: state media has the money and the power, and that makes it tough for independent media platforms. “Sometimes, its really scary to work for independent media in Russia,” she concluded. I can only imagine.

Iowa City is very lucky to have an event like Witching Hour to bring in events like this. Not only was Pussy Riot met with support and attention from the audience, but the audience got the chance to learn a lot about new and different perspectives from different places on earth. The whole night was illuminating and very entertaining.

If you want to see what the rest of Pussy Riot is up to these days, check out Nadya’s music videos. She’s continuing in the vein of music, while the others seek more journalistic means of activism.

The post Witching Hour: Pussy Riot @ Englert Theatre 11/4/2016 appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Shows at the Mill are much different than shows at any other venue in Iowa City, and even the singer/songwriter of the Titus Andronicus knew it, making sure everyone knew that we were rocking out in a “fancy restaurant,” and to be careful with our moshing and dancing. Seeing bands like these at a venue like this really lets you appreciate everything that happens on stage; everyone is so close to the band and the band can interact and react in a way that they couldn’t at other venues.

Before the music began, the first thing to take the stage was a large, inflatable dragon, which stared at the few people standing around with bright red eyes; an ample omen for the absolute power we were about to experience at our local pizza place.

A Giant Dog is a rock band from Austin, Texas. Their sound was reminiscent of Titus’, if that sound had traveled south for the winter and decided to stay. The crowd was not yet in its final form when the band began, but they brought so much energy and power to the stage that everyone was into it from the very start. You could tell this band was an explosion; the feelings came in bursts, with songs starting quickly and ending abruptly, each one disclosing more rawness than the last, each one bringing out more dancing from both the band and the crowd.

Their music was like a party and punch in the face at the same time. They even sang a song about the gun laws in their home state, which allow open carry. Whether or not the subject and content of the song was serious, this band was having a good time on stage. Check out one of their music videos below!

Next up was the headliner, Titus Andronicus. By this time, the crowd was filling out. A bartender said that there were over 100 pre-sale tickets, with another 100 expected. It seemed a large number, and probably not all that true, but the numbers didn’t matter once the band took the stage.

Titus Andonicus in endless; their music sounds like punk ethics injected into the infinite ether of human emotion. Listening to them on record doesn’t do them justice: this group in meant to be experienced live.

Once it all kicked in, the crowd was jumping and singing along to some of their more popular lyrics, and even had the band stepping away from the microphone a few times to allow the crowd their due part in the experience of a rock show.

Most of the songs ran directly into the next one, a lot like their albums, which feature long pieces that tie in to the next one to create a wholesome impression in the listener. The sea of dimly lit heads bobbed and bounced to each one, the perfect reaction to the relentless onslaught of sound.

Patrick, the lead singer, lead the band through every song with his voice, which had the effect of a searing electric guitar or an extra snare drum, blending in perfectly with the high-gain instruments that backed him up.

In one of the rare moments between songs, Patrick took the time to talk about how much he liked Iowa, and the fact that the band had been here a few times before, playing at both the Mill and Gabe’s. While on the subject of Iowa, Patrick even mentioned our important role in the electoral college, and encouraged us all to go out and exercise our right to vote this November.

Near the end, they announced that there are only a few songs left, as the show was all ages and had to end by 10. While it sounded like a bummer, it was cool that teenagers could come to the show and hang out like everyone else. The band thanked the Mill for being inclusive and respectful to everyone.

Titus Andronicus ended with their song “A More Perfect Union”, the opener off of their album The Monitor. The crowd was singing along so loudly that there were moments it was louder than the band.

After the show, I asked Patrick what felt better or more natural to the group: being on stage or being in the studio.

“You go to the studio so that you can get on the stage, you know what I mean? People often think that the show is to promote the record but really, that’s backwards. The record is to promote the show,” he says. “But at the same time, the show is not exactly a creative exercise, you know?”

He concluded by saying that the concert was much more important than the record, even though they both have their important places within Titus Andronicus.

You can find their website here, which has news, tour dates, videos and more. Their music is also available on Spotify. A Giant Dog can be found here.

The post Concert Review: Titus Andronicus @ The Mill 9/25/2016 appeared first on KRUI Radio.