Blame it on my newish obsession with Chromeo, but this punk and rock diehard is suddenly getting all excited about electropop. I suppose it was really only a matter of time, considering I grew up doing kick-ball-changes to Marky Mark (and his Funky Bunch), and have been indoctrinated into the world of house and breaks by six years of Burning Man - and what is electropop if not the marriage of those two danceable genres? Read more »
Jamie Lidell rocks the synthetics. All photos by K. Tighe.
Sunlight danced off of Jamie Lidell's Mylar-embellished headpiece as the Cambridge-born genre-bender yucked it up like only a Brit can. When not encased within his make-shift mechanical perch, Lidell contorted around the stage in a gold-embossed smoking jacket, giving the impression that this fringe-hugging impresario was something of an electro-soul shaman. Read more »
Hey, swingers! Dolls! Diggin' those retro-futuristic sounds again, aren't you? I know, I know: ain't nothin' better for sipping Mai Tais on the patio, daddy-o, than a few shakes and shimmies of an electro-samba graced by a cool, cool kitten cooing from the soft belly of outer space, is there? Now that I've bent your ear, how about throwing in a little Frenchified pop and maybe a sprinkle of Martin Denny exotica, while we're at it? Read more »
By Molly Freedenberg
You'd think a writer living in Tech Central and a musician who works almost exclusively with electronics would be able to figure out how to have an international conversation. But somehow, Chromeo's Dave-1 (who was in London at the time) and I couldn't get that archaic piece of equipment (you know, the telephone) to work for us. So we turned to ye olde computer. Below is the transcript of our email interview, emoticons and all (who knew Dave-1 uses smilies?). Read more »
To kick-off the Pitchfork festivities on Saturday, July 14, I decided to check in with some Bay Area denizens.
I'd been hearing excited murmurings about cheap subscriptions to Ready Made magazine, so I headed over to see how the Berkeley publication was faring in the Chicago heat. The corner booth was swarmed with people eager for a turn at custom-designing their own organic T-shirts. Read more »
When the folks at Pitchfork decided to add an extra day to this year's festivities, I doubt anyone suspected this. As the lineup for the July 13 kick-off evening was announced, jaws across the blogosphere dropped. Read more »
Last night I had the most peculiar dream. There I was, in Paris of all places, glug-glugging champagne from the boot of a Moulin Rouge can-can showgirl while a pair of elephants bejeweled with emeralds and rubies swaggered a slow bolero to the one-two-three/one-two-three of a rowdy accordionist grinding out hot-pepper triplets from the razor edge of a tightrope hung above. Read more »