Since when did tonight become the night that everything happens? There is so much going on in Brick City tonight and through the weekend, it’s almost enough to make up for the complete dearth of quality entertainment we’ve had since Sonic Youth experimentally jet set and trashed the riverfront back in July. So let’s dispense with the pleasantries and cut straight to the meaty details. To start:

Thursday

A.K.A. tonight. The buzz de rigueur seems to be centered around Cicero’s, where both The Antlers and The Hood Internet will be performing as part of the PLAY:stl Fest (complete schedule here). It’s an admittedly odd pairing, but for fans of both meditative post-rock and hipster-approved jock jams, this is the place to be. I previewed the Antlers for the RFT in this week’s paper, and here’s a lovely video for their song “Two.”

I’m a creature of habit, however, and I’ll be at the Firebird tonight. Cincinnati’s Pomegranates are playing, and as I’ve said before, they’re absolutely fantastic. Their new record Everybody, Come Outside! is one of the most pleasurable, adventurous, and honest-to-goodness exciting indie pop records I’ve heard all year. Lots of trembly guitars and innocent vocals, with surprising detours into homemade afro-funk and uplifting shoegaze. Here’s a song from that album that I included in the Post-Rockist summer birthday mix:

Pomegranates – “Southern Ocean” (buy)
Download audio file (Poms-SouthernOcean.mp3)

If that’s not your speed, Daniel Francis Doyle will be at Lemp Neighborhood Arts Center. He’s kind of a cross between Cole Porter whimsy and Half Japanese anarchy. Alternately, the SLSO are giving a free performance in Forest Park, if you’re in the mood for “Moon River,” the theme from Star Wars, and other MOR selections that would appeal to free concert-goers in Forest Park.

Or, if you hate live music but love supporting local music, The Hibernauts are raising money for their newest record since Chad Rogers’ mustache joined their ranks by bartending at Maggie O’Brien’s.

And there’s always the season premiere of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to fall back on.

Okay, moving on:

Friday

The Republic Tigers from Kansas City are playing at Cicero’s (again, part of PLAY:stl Fest). I don’t know much about them, but I’m told I would like them. So there’s that.

Saint Louisans Troubadour Dali are having their CD release party at the Firebird. I haven’t heard anything off the new record, but the last time I saw them I thought they sounded exactly like The Warlocks and I was totally okay with that.

Saturday

This is a no brainer. I’m sure there are other shows going on Saturday night, but I don’t know what they are and I’m not going. Bradford Cox is one of the most astonishingly brilliant forces in indie rock today — dynamic, inventive, prolific, and responsible for two of the best albums of 2008. (Obviously I’m a total geek for the guy, so I apologize for the hyperbole.) Atlas Sound, his solo moniker, is performing at the 560 Music Center as part of the PLAY:stl Fest. Your guess is as good as mine as to what this venue is all about. The show is “presented” by the Gargoyle, but it’s not at the Gargoyle… so, that’s a good thing?

I included the much-ballyhooed and blogged-about song “Walkabout” (w/ Noah Lennox, a.k.a. Panda Bear) on my mix earlier this week, but here’s another stunning track off last year’s Another Bedroom EP:

Atlas Sound – “Another Bedroom” (buy)
Download audio file (AtlasSound-AnotherBedroom.mp3)

Sunday

Another toss-up. It’s either Ra Ra Riot, who sound like this:

playing at the Firebird,

or it’s The Books, who do weird shit like this:

performing at the Luminary Center for the Arts. Honestly, I might head over to the Luminary Sunday night, not only because I’m curious to check out the new venue, but because I may be desperate for some non-rock band action by that point.

Whew! This was a really long and poorly organized post! If you’re looking for a really long and highly organized essay about the past, present, and future of indie music (including a plainspoken dissection of the tensions between bread’n'butter indie rock groups [e.g., Ra Ra Riot] and noisier, experimental artists [e.g., The Books]), then I would strongly recommend you read this piece.

Download audio file (Gilberta.mp3)
Jumbling Towers – “Gilberta”
(from Kanetown City Rips)

I’m not exaggerating when I say that this song has been lodged in my head since I first heard it a little over a month ago. Entire albums have come and gone from my radar without as much as a blip, but the shuddering lock’n'pop rhythm of “Gilberta” somehow manages to trigger an involuntary replay function in my brain. So, in the interest of scientific inquiry, I’ve decided to lay out the basic components of this Jumbling Towers track that make it so infectious:

1. The drums are the key. Sure you can embellish percussion with a million permutations of complicated time signatures and the clatter of well-endowed kits, but if you build your entire rhythm track around the metronomic thump of a kick drum and hand claps it’s empirically unpossible for you to fuck it up. It taps into our caveman instincts, reminding us of our ancestors’ time spent around the wooly mammoth bar-b-que pit, oblivious to the concept of a wheel. Plus, the bluntness of the beat clears up enough space in the music so that the tracks other components are free to do more interesting things.

2. The bass defies expectations. The thought of a grimey slide bass lick with hammer-on/hammer-off punctuation is something I’d normally recoil from in horror; instead, I’m strangely intrigued. It’s funky, but it’s not funk. It’s a lumbering riff, but it progresses deliberately, almost militaristically. It’s this tension between slop-funk and borg-like discipline that makes the bass so persuasive.

3. That Robert Fripp nastiness that claws in around the 2:00 minute mark is nice, plain and simple.

And this is only the B-side. The A-side “Kanetown City Rips” I wrote about back in February. Jumbling Towers are celebrating the release of their new single tonight at the Firebird. Locals Exercise and the Hibernauts are opening. If you’re in St. Louis tonight, you won’t want to miss this.

The Lot Music Festival is taking place this Saturday down in the heart of St. Louis. It’s located at the Schlafly Tap Room, so you know there’s going to be an abundance of quality brews, but there’s also going to be red hots, bar-b-que, alcoholic sno cones, Fred Bird, hoosier golf, and something called “What’s Up Homeless Empowerment dunk tank/face painting,” which doesn’t sound very empowering at all (in fact, it sounds like a downright cruel and humiliating way to treat the homeless, but these Metropolis folks have a perverse way of getting their rocks off). Oh yeah, and bands. Lots of ‘em. Czech the schedule:

- The Blind Eyes 5:00-5:30 pm

- The 75s 5:50-6:20 pm

- Hazard to Ya Booty 6:40-7:10 pm

- The Dock Ellis Band 7:30-8:00 pm

- Soulard Blues Band 8:20-9:00 pm

- Jon Hardy and the Public 9:20-10:00 pm

- The Hibernauts 10:20-11:00 pm

- LucaBrasi 11:30-12:10

It’s free. It’s gonna be a good time. What more do you need to know? Click here for complete details.

Download audio file (Phaseone-Confessio.mp3)
Phaseone – “Confessio Amantis”

Download audio file (Phaseone-LoveTest.mp3)
Phaseone – “Love Test (Only)”

When I interviewed Phaseone back in February, he told me his new album Thanks But No Thanks was going to drop in just a few weeks. Well, a few weeks turned into a few months, and finally, last Thursday, he dropped the new album with a simple tweet. So much for breaking news.

Creatively, TBNT is night and day from its 42-track predecessor of digitized neo-soul, Mad Weight. The album opens with “Marty & Sonietta,” a track built around a lattice of repeated synth lines and mechanical gurgles that call to mind French composer Jean-Michel Jarre, and even when the percussion kicks in on the blended follow-up “Temp Tags/Starfox,” the upward lilt of the keyboards keep it sounding more like Black Moth Super Rainbow at their poppiest than anything that might reflect Phase’s hip-hop work in the past. That’s not to say he’s left his roots untouched, by any means. One of the strongest tracks on the album, “Love Test (Only),” comes from the same brave new school of robo-soul that Kanye founded with 808s & Heartbreak (which, yes, is arguably more electro-pop than hip-hop, but I’m not here to play referee over minor inter-genre squabbles). Downtempo, ambient hip-hop, electronic, dubstep, soundtrack to a theoretical sci-fi thriller, whatever you want to call it — this is mighty good stuff.

Plus, one of the tracks posted above contains a reference to a massive late-14th century narrative poem, which the Lit dork in me feels obliged to point out. Can you guess which one?

Click here to download Thanks But No Thanks.

More:
Phaseone Remixes – Panda Bear, Burial, & Grouper

Phaseone: Interview + Jay Dee Remix

Download audio file (GB-TillyLingers.mp3)
Grace Basement – “Tilly Lingers”
(from Gunmetal Gray)

It’s one thing for a band to proclaim Harry Nilsson and XTC among their primary influences; it’s quite another to follow through and deliver the goods. Gunmetal Gray, the sophomore effort from St. Louis’ Grace Basement, hearkens back to the better features of any number of pure pop purveyors — a more creatively concise Jon Brion; a Ben Kweller not inclined to indulge his hokum country fancies — but at no point does it feel reduced to pastiche. With impeccably layered harmonies, urbane arrangements, and lead songwriter Kevin Buckley’s deft fiddling, Gunmetal Gray has turned out to be one of most pleasant surprises of 2009.

I’ve been listening to this album since April, when the band temporarily released it as a free download from their website. The download was split like an old record into two tracks, an A side and a B side. I don’t know if the vinyl analogy was intentional, but considering how meticulously composed each individual track was put together, the overarching emotional flow of the album as a whole is remarkably fluid. From the boisterous and baroque opener “There He Goes” to the wry resignation of “Tilly Lingers” through to the orchestral flourishes of “Land of Endless Change,” the band, only recently conceived of as a four-piece, puts on a consistent and exuberant display of power pop prowess.

It seems the timeframe for nabbing the disc as a free download has passed, but you can still order it online from Undertow Music or, what I would recommend, buy it direct from the band tonight at their CD release show at Off Broadway. Boston’s Everyday Visuals and St. Louis’ excellent Old Lights are opening.

Although the venue handled themselves responsibly, locals enjoyed piling on the “poncy divas,” the band issued a humorous retort (humorous because of their complete overestimation of the size and dedication of their “fans”), and it somehow ended up with a tweet of mine getting twoted on Brooklyn Vegan. All this comes after the band nearly pulled out of the gig anyway over a dispute over $50 – apparently their booking manager felt the needed more than they had previously agreed to because they had received a modest endorsement from Stereogum or something (hey, Hive Mind follows the Buzz!). I haven’t read the ‘Gum in a while, but I get the impression they have a fairly low threshold for endorsing new bands these days.

As the comments over this isolated tantrum started to grow old and ugly, news started to spread like wildfire over the shocking and tragic death (or, if you’re feeling conspiratorial, the hoaxed death) of the King of Pop, news that entirely eclipsed any attempts at a sunny birthday party being held by a puny little music blog. I spent Thursday night practicing the Moonwalk in my bedroom with tears streaming down my face.

Friday was better. Julie Doiron, who I wrote about for the RFT, came to the Lemp Neighborhood Arts Center and put on an endearing show of low-key, lo-fi granola rock that was ideally suited to the communal hippie vibe of the Lemp. Plus, she did it all with the most bare bones sound system imaginable. It was strangely refreshing to go to a show where the audience is so supremely attentive and reverent of the performer – maybe it had something to do with the median age of the average attendee.

Julie Doiron – “Nice To Come Home”
Download audio file (Doiron-NiceHome.mp3)
(from I Can Wonder What You Did With Your Day)

So Many Dynamos held their release party for The Loud Wars at the Firebird on Saturday, two days after the non sequitor critical thrashing it received from Pitchfork and, in an unexpected meta twist, the review of the critical shortcomings of Pitchfork’s review by Pop Sense. (For what it’s worth, I actually like the album – highly complex song structures packed into tightly-wound pop song formats, complemented with Fripp & Eno-styled cascades and mathy Battles-indebted climaxes.) Unfortunately for the fans, the bands, and the venue, the A/C decided to go on the fritz, and with Saturday already being the hottest day of the year with heat indices well above 100 Fahrenheit, inside it felt like we were trapped in the steamcooker of Satan’s armpits. It wasn’t pretty, but the kids didn’t seem to mind, and skinny arms were a-pumpin’ throughout the Dynabros’ set.

The highlight of the night came, unequivocally, from Emperor X. While all the kids were huddled sweating near the front, Chad Matheny took a microphone from the sound deck in the back of the room and started singing the chant from Michael Jackson’s “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’,” and eventually got the whole crowd clapping in rhythm and singing “Mama-se, mama-sa, ma-ma-coo-sa” while he improvised geekily soulful lyrics on top. To call his set “eccentric” or “earnest” or “Phil Elverum-esque” doesn’t really do it justice. Just download The Blythe Archives, Vol. 2 from his site, and plan on catching him next time he’s performing in town.

Emperor X – “Falklands/Malvinas”
Download audio file (Falklands_Malvinas.mp3)

Hopefully, the ol’ ‘Bird has fixed the A/C by now, because they’re hosting a “SnoCones & Lasers Mega Monday Dance Party” tonight that should be worth czeching out. To the best of my knowledge, this event is going to include flavored vodka Sno Cones (for inebriation), borrowed rave lasers (for heightened ‘80s awesomeness), and a veritable round robin of various DJs and “electro” composers (for dancing). Phaseone, who I’ve written about before, is one of the performers, and his recent remix of Animal Collective’s “Daily Routine” has been popping up all over the Hype Machine lately, if you follow those sorts of things. Bring quarters for the pinball machines, in case the sno cones and lasers don’t do enough to transport you back to 5th grade.

The Post-Rockist holds the curious distinction of being the only Detroit and St. Louis-based music blog known to man. This isn’t something we brag about so much as it’s something that forces us to spend a lot of time awkwardly justifying our existence. We hope to avoid pandering to one audience too much at the risk of alienating the other, mostly by trying to remain true to our mission statement of writing passionately about the music we love (in other words, we pander to ourselves). But on the same token, we’re plainly cognizant that being a music fan anywhere is deeply impacted by your local surroundings, and we try to reflect that by talking about great shows that come through town, or releases by bands like Lightning Love of Detroit or the Blind Eyes of St. Louis — bands that we’d probably never hear if we lived anywhere else.

But, does it work? Do you wish we did more with local coverage? Do you find it interesting at all to read about what’s going on in another city, or could you not give two flying shits about what happens in either the 313 or 314 area codes? Do you wish I’d just shut up and start posting more podcasts by Andrew and Liz?

It’s an experiment, for sure, but it’s one that’s allowed me the opportunity to discover and write about Detroit bands like the High Strung or Champions of Breakfast when they come through St. Louis. Maybe someone else finds that useful? If you have any suggestions for how we can better cope with our bi-city-uality (or any thoughts on the site at all), please let us know in the comments.

Incidentally, this week marks the three-year anniversary of the Post-Rockist. Back when we started, we were based in Cincinnati and Washington, D.C. We’ve come a long way, babies, hope you’re enjoying the ride.

Thanks to Joe Crawford of the Beacon for the interview time and nice article.

The Riverfront Times’ annual local music Showcase is taking place this Sunday at various locales throughout the Loop, and, if you’re familiar with the Showcase, then you already have an opinion about it. But the bottom line is: you should go. So what if these are all the same bands you’ve watched perform every week since the last Showcase; these are our bands, the bands that make a concerted effort to improve the quality of the St. Louis music scene, and this really the only opportunity you’ll get all year to sample some of the best the city has to offer in one marathon session. Besides, even when you think you’ve heard ‘em all, chances are you’ll make a wrong turn into Racanelli’s or stay in the drink line too long at the Halo Bar and wind up discovering some amazing, under-the-radar band that you had never bothered giving the time of day to before.

Plus, with something like 65 bands on the schedule, and only $5 for unfettered wristband access, that averages out to less than $0.08 per band, which is extremely reasonable.

The full schedule of events can be found here, although the gents from Gentlemen Auction House have taken the time to compile their own recommended itinerary, complete with a diagrammed map! Not surprisingly, they recommend checking out Gentlemen Auction House at 4:00 on the Main Stage.

Instead of putting together my own itinerary like last year, this time I just want to highlight a few excellent and recent releases featuring bands in this year’s Showcase.

Jon Hardy & The Public – “Little Criminals”
Download audio file (JH-LittleCriminals.mp3)

Last fall, Jon Hardy & The Public performed an all-Randy Newman cover set at the then-Bluebird, and it rocked my argyle socks off. They took Randy’s sad-sack, meandering personal style and punched it up with gusto, gravitas, and gut-wrenchingly powerful arrangements. Turns out the Public know a hit when they have one, so earlier this week they decided to release a four-song EP of Newman covers as a free download, which was made available, ahem, exclusively here. Or here. Or, you know, direct from their website.

Jon Hardy & The Public take the Main Outdoor Stage at 2:00 p.m.

The 75s – “I Wanna Kill My Boyfriend”
Download audio file (75-Boyfriend.mp3)

Something about seeing this band live makes grown men acknowledge a secret desire to become the drummer in an otherwise all-female punk band. Don’t know why, but I’ve heard this confession on more than one occasion. Maybe it has something to do with their mix of infectious, bittersweet pop harmonies and salty, undercooked rhythms that awakens long-dormant fantasies of swapping K Records B-sides and C86-inspired mix tapes with the girl with black eyeliner and magenta hairdye next door. The Stereo EP, from which the above song comes, can be downloaded for free or for name-your-own-price via Trouble In River City.

The 75s play at Cicero’s at 7 p.m. sharp.

Target Market – “Killer Cars”
Download audio file (TM-KillerCars.mp3)

Over the past year or so, Target Market have evolved into one of the most impressive indie acts in the city. Up On the Moon, released digitally last month and physically two weeks from today at Vintage Vinyl, is the group’s second album and it’s fairly fantastic. There are hints of Pavement and Broken Social Scene, but aside from the overt indie-ness of the record there is some truly great craftsmanship that went into these songs — rhythmic arrangements that are speedy and angular without being jagged; bursts of clean guitars and fuzzy keyboards that are cathartic without being overwrought; vocals that are smart and emotive but not pretentious. It’s a meticulous balance of styles, but it feels wholly natural.

Target Market will go on at 11 p.m. at the Delmar Lounge.

I was shocked mostly by the size of his hands. They looked like baseball mitts — old, leathery, well-worn. It seemed inconceivable that they would fit through his shirt sleeves, let alone exercise the finesse required to move up and down the neck of his lacquered Gibson. And yet there they were, still playing the guitar just like a-ringin’ a bell, the oversized mitts of Chuck Berry.

It felt a little surreal to be in the same room as Chuck Berry. Decked out in a sailor’s cap, bolo tie, and sparkling turquoise blouse, the father of rock & roll didn’t seem to belong to this or any other time, like he had stepped off the regular path of history and yet continued to exist in our present day and space. The fact that I was watching him in the basement of retro-kitsch restaurant Blueberry Hill, in the intimate Duck Room, a room whose bizarre displays of assorted duck memorabilia (featuring Donald, Daffy, Howard, Scrooge and nephews, among others) is only excusable because it is ultimately devoted to the world-famous duck walk of the world-famous Chuck Berry, only served to heighten this surreal confluence of space and time.

He’s too old to duck walk now. But Chuck was already getting long in the tooth when he started out more than half a century ago. He didn’t release his first single, “Maybellene,” until 1955 when he was already 29 years old, and he never made it to #1, despite influencing legions of hugely successful bands, until the juvenile “My Ding-a-Ling” inexplicably shot to the top of the charts almost 20 years later in 1972. Now, at age 82, decades after his career creatively stalled, he still puts on sold-out shows, and though he moves about with a grandfatherly gait, he still has the spry energy and humor to make those shows count.

The place was packed, and aside from a marked increase in Greg Norman-polo shirt wearing dads, the overall vibe was similar to any other rock show. The opening band was unfortunately awful, a graying hair rock-meets-Blueshammer travesty, where the singer, who bragged of being tangentially involved in REO Speedwagon, had the audacity to invite his girlfriend on stage to shake her tailfeathers for the duet “Hellhound Blues.” It was an unspeakably uncouth offering to lay before the throne of the King of Rock & Roll, but some of the dads in the audience seemed to be into it.

After they packed it up, the anticipation for Chuck grew palpable. The club owner (?) came out to rile us up, quoting from Bob Dylan’s latest interview in Rolling Stone, where Dylan placed Chuck Berry at the top of his list of the greatest living musicians (he placed himself second, fwiw). Quoting Dylan:

In my universe, Chuck is irreplaceable… All that brilliance is still there, and he’s still a force of nature. As long as Chuck Berry’s around, everything’s as it should be. This is a man who has been through it all. The world treated him so nasty. But in the end, it was the world that got beat.

Obvious words, but worth repeating.

And then he appeared. Strutting, smiling, waving. Chuck Berry in the flesh. Immediately the band launched into “Roll Over Beethoven.” I was afraid that his catalogue would have grown bloated over the years, filled with gratuitous solos and slap-and-pop bass, but that rockin’ rhythm number stayed remarkably limber. This was his house band, with his son playing the second guitar and the rest of the band knowing their place, knowing enough to hold back and let the main event shine where he could. “Memphis” was next, restrained and tender, one of the better showcases for his underrated storytelling.

It’s strange. His songs are so familiar, so commonplace, so ingrained into the fabric of American culture that the songs themselves almost get overshadowed by their historical associations. After all, as the archetypal rock & roller, whose signature two-string strumming and quick-lipped cadence served as a launching pad for the careers of Keith Richards, Bob Dylan, John Lennon, Brian Wilson, and countless others on down the line — artists who, in their own right, went on to establish personas and bodies of work that seem to be bigger than time — it’s easy to lose sight of the brown-eyed handsome man at the heart of his own mythology.

But his songs still stand up. “Sweet Little Sixteen,” “Let It Rock,” “You Never Can Tell” — durable, catchy, well-constructed songs that are, above all else, fun to sing and dance to. Sure, Chuck may not be in the best shape these days — he flubbed a few notes, repeated a few words, and couldn’t remember past the first verse of one song about a traveling salesman — but he was exuding so much joy and enthusiasm that it was hard not to appreciate the effort. When Chuck shouted “Long live rock & roll!” and we shouted the words right back at him, his old eyes would light up and he’d flash a quick grin, clearly enjoying the adoration.

His vocal delivery has changed. His voice hasn’t grown gravely or incoherent like other rockers, just quirkier. On “School Days,” for example, he’d pause and deliver some lines with great weight and consideration (“Back in the classroom, open your books”) and then follow up the next line with great rapidity (“Gee, but the teacher don’t know how mean she looks”). It was a strange effect, but strangely endearing.

He closed the night with “Johnny B. Goode,” probably the most perfect self-mythologizing rock & roll song there ever will be — and that’s no hyperbole — followed by a quick outro jam that was basically an excuse for him to invite a bevy of ladyfolk up onto the stage with him while he teased the crowd with more call-and-response pleading. He left the stage just as he entered, waving and smiling, guitar in hand. In some sense he’s still that same old country boy he sings about on “Johnny B. Goode,” just strumming his six-string to the rhythm of the railroad tracks, I only hope he sticks around for another half century to tell us the tale himself.

SETLIST (cribbed from memory, so may not be 100% accurate)
Roll Over Beethoven
Memphis, Tennessee
School Days
Sweet Little Sixteen
Travelin’ Salesman
Wee Wee Hours
Let It Rock
MEDLEY: Carol/Little Queenie
Maybellene
You Never Can Tell
Johnny B. Goode
Outro

I’m no economist by any means, but when I can’t even squeeze over to the used bin without artfully dodging a slow-moving herd of cash-flush consumers, I’m guessing business is doing fairly well. Record Store Day in St. Louis was, by my entirely non-scientific analysis, a resounding success. Every single record store I went to was overflowing with people, and because I apparently have nothing better to do with my time, I hit up all three independent shops this city has to offer.

First stop was Euclid Records. When I got there, Grace Basement was finishing their set and a Sly Stone documentary was being screened in the back above the vinyl. The whole store seemed to have been organized by a consumer psychologist with me in mind: a large display was set up near the entrance with Numero Group/Eccentric Soul comps (I picked up the Titan It’s All Pop! comp thanks to reader and writer recommendations); the used bin was recently stocked with a surplus of old Morrissey records (I grabbed Vauxhall and I because some guy told me so); and as I was standing in line to check out, the Fiery Furnaces’ double live album Remember jumped out at me (what can I say? Impulse buy. Besides, I was at risk of losing my superfan club membership if I didn’t purchase it eventually).

I drove up to Vintage Vinyl next. Zimbabwe Nkenya was playing outside in the rain and Papa Ray the Soul Selector was spinning a fine selection of soul and rock & roll in the interior. I found the free PBR booth with no problem, but everything else on my list came up dry (the Randy Newman section at VV is criminally understocked, and, as it turns out, not a single record store in the city of St. Louis has a single copy of The Thermals’ The Body, The Blood, The Machine — what gives?). My final destination was Apop, where the drink of choice was Stag. As is usual at Apop, some weird German shit I’ve never heard of was piping through the sound system, which, weirdly, wasn’t half bad. I stayed for a few songs from the motorik noise punk trio Bikini Acid before leaving with an old copy of Lindstrom’s It’s a Feedelity Affair.

I’ve got a few low-quality photos of Apop above and below the jump, but you should definitely scope out Annie Zaleski’s photos of Euclid and Vintage Vinyl to get a better feel of the hustle and bustle of the day.

I closed the day with tacos off Cherokee Street and the free So Many Dynamos gig at the Billiken. The Dynamos were celebrating the release of the “New Bones” 7″, the first single off their upcoming Chris Walla-produced record The Loud Wars. The new track, if you haven’t heard it yet, is undeniably great. It’s less like the spastic prog-emo stuff they’ve done in the past to engender Dismemberment Plan comparisons; instead, it’s much more measured, linear, and mechanical electro pop. A repetitive synth riff opens the track, which sounds like Gary Numan covering “Icky Thump,” but they continue to build up the tension with a series of increasingly complex cross-phasing loops that link serrated-point guitar buzz with soft focus keyboard warbles. If you haven’t been a fan before, this may change your opinion.

Download audio file (SMD-NewBones.mp3)
So Many Dynamos – “New Bones”
(from The Loud Wars)

So what did you buy this Record Store Day?