Too kind words from Everett True on his blog:
I so rarely go out to shows any more, I keep forgetting how much in love I remain with the thrill of live music.
Last night at the Troubadour; I mean genuinely in love. I can't resist it. After Blank Realm
finished I was back in love with the music I've always been in love
with: spongy, sagging, serrated, full of drummers who never cross their
arms and keyboard-players who bounce up and down and flick their hair
back like their hair is the only hair that exists in this age. Music
that builds and builds, sags then builds, builds and builds, sags then
builds. Music that's full of sweet harmonies and even sweeter
distortion, music that rampages and rampages hard and doesn't care what
friends it makes, just knows that you're stupid if you're not out to
enjoy yourself.
I'm told they were missing a bassist last night. I sure as buggery on a
tight budget wasn't missing a bassist last night: I liked the
open-extendedness of the clamorous guitar, the way the guitar and drums
kept colliding, the way the keyboard kept colliding too and then all
came good by the end of each sprawling eight-minute "song". I liked the
fact I could hear elements of all the bands I loved before (Suicide,
The Velvet Underground, 33 different versions of Acid Mothers Temple,
308 versions of 13 different bands I've long since forgotten existed)
and that I didn't care - wait - and that I embraced that in the opening seconds, and moved way, way on.
I especially liked the heckle that came back after the keyboardist asked if the drummer's vocals were loud enough. "Too loud!"
It was a gamma ray blast of an evening.
(Incidentally, if you're currently listening to their MySpace page as
you ought to be following a recommendation from a Man of my Magnitude -
don't. Their MySpace music is like a chocolate bunny compared to the
tumbling eiderdown mountain of their live show, least the show I
witnessed last night.)
Read his blog here.Also, there's an interview with Blank Realm in issue 4 of the Negative Guest List zine. Always a stormin read!
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