Hollywood Bowl

One of the highlights of summer is spending evenings at the Hollywood Bowl. On Saturday, under the glow of a full moon, the fireworks weren’t only created by gunpowder (though those were fabulous too!).

If you haven’t had the pleasure to witness Rodrigo y Gabriela in concert, I implore you to find a way to see them as soon as possible. It may be a little challenging in the very near future as Saturday was the last night of their current tour and they’ve already headed home to Mexico.

Holy hell, though, folks… they are as breath-taking to behold as the view!

Suddenly, I am transported to a filtered-light existence.

What music is making your summer extra special?

I’m still most drawn to harmonic melodies and lyrics that tell a story, however. What would you expect from a girl whose favorite song in highschool was Tangled Up Puppet?

So, in addition to my new-found love for Angus and Julia Stone, I must declare my obsession over Spain. While the country is very cool, too, I’m actually talking about the BAND.

In particular, I simply CAN NOT STOP playing I’m Still Free.

Isn’t it just BRILLIANT?!

A few nights ago, I was lucky enough to venture through the gates of Hollywood Forever, a gorgeous cemetery in the heart of Hollywood. I meandered my way past gravestones, caged peacocks and an antique Rolls Royce, climbed the stairs of an old Masonic lodge, and bore witness to such glorious, inspired creativity that I am compelled to share my new musical obsession… Angus & Julia Stone.

If you’ve never heard of them, take a moment now to listen. PLEASE.

Their music is ethereal, idiosyncratic, poignant, profound, and just hell o’ gorgeous.

In addition, they are the most charming, Australian, brother-and-sister sensations I’ve ever heard. Not to mention, more talented than my simple mind can comprehend.

photo by Jen Castle

During the set to which I raptly listened, Julia blissfully played guitar, harmonica, piano, and trumpet in addition to singing with a clarity and emotional integrity that left me envious of her talent, honored by her willingness to share her gifts and hungry for more. Her brother, Angus, was equally mesmerizing while displaying his vocal abilities and skills on the guitar, harmonica and trumpet. He was charmingly bashful about the trumpet playing, since he normally plays the trombone.

SERIOUSLY.

via Jen Castle Photography

The concert was held in a high-ceilinged hall within the Masonic Lodge. Wooden beams criss-crossed above our heads, huge chandeliers dangling from their intersect points. Intricately carved, high-backed chairs lined the back of the stage. Lit candelabra augmented the magical essence of the space. Together, these details created an ambiance of suspense and intimacy that perfectly matched the energy of Angus and Julia. Three supporting musicians ably filled out their sound with drums, base and electric guitar on many of the songs, but the Stones earned all of my attention.

Julia told honest, amusing, rambling stories about a few of the songs. She also did this thing with her hands, as she grooved to the sounds she so transparently adores, that had me equal parts spell-bound and wondering why I don’t have the courage to do that when I dance in public. I completely understood her impulses. And I’d be shocked if fewer than half the audience members didn’t consider, at one point or another, whether they could bundle her up and steal her away to make her their best friend or lover. Any time spent with one or both of the Stone siblings would be utterly delightful – a flat out GOOD TIME. They were just that damn likable!

On a night when much of America was watching the outcome of the nation’s feverish 1-866 dialing skills and Simon Fuller’s marketing magic, I sat with a friend and a few hundred eclectic music fans to experience a level of talent and unbridled joy that uniformly took our breath away. I must thank my favorite (and only) radio station for making tickets available to KCRW members. And my lucky stars for letting me win them.

Now, I hope you take some time to explore Angus and Julia Stone’s music. I expect you just may fall in love with it as quickly as I did!

Doesn’t it just make you want to go find a warehouse, some paint cans and pulleys?

"Red Tulips" by Kate Moriarty

Kate Moriarty is an L.A.-based artist who captures misty dreamscapes with pastels and suede. Strange, but true. And amazingly beautiful.

"London Bridges" by Kate Moriarty

Don’t you just love when an artist surprises you into seeing something in a completely different light?

"Fade Away" by Kate Moriarty

I’ll never look at suede the same way again. Velvet, on the other hand, may indeed still remain associated with awful renditions of The King, and ’80s prom dresses. But, dare I say it, velvet gets the better song. I am far more likely to dance manically through my house to Black Velvet than to Blue Suede Shoes any day.

Now, do you have a preference for suede or velvet?

Je t’adore! In fact, I’m currently obsessed with your new album, IRM. I must admit I had a wee tender for your father, Serge. Listening to his music made me want to smoke cloves and lounge about in velvet-covered wine cellars with beatnik intellectuals in a post-coital fog of bliss. Your songs evoke an entirely different, but equally delightful, sensation. Particularly with this album, and perhaps in no small part to Beck’s influence, I am transported to a far more sugar plum world. I daydream of skipping, spinning and dancing my way through fields of daisies and marigolds while Vaseline-covered lenses capture the essence of pure joy that flits through sun-baked skies like a mischievous fairy come alive with laughter. This is not nearly as scary as it may sound. I’m actually quite sane.

I simply love your music, and I strongly encourage everyone who has ears to check out your new album.

Sincerely,

-em

I’m addicted to KCRW. It’s a radio station. A radio station that plays an incredibly eclectic mix of music. But rarely does it play pop. Or, more accurately, it plays some pop, occasionally, before it becomes popular, and then it lets the Clear Channels of the world go nuts. So it may come as some surprise that the album I’m going to select in answer to the above question was never played on KCRW (at least, not in my hearing). This album must most definitely be considered pop. After all, an album doesn’t become the most downloaded album of 2009 on iTunes without being considered pop. Have you guessed it yet?

Kings of Leon. Only by the Night.

Image via Amazon

Yep.

Why, you ask?

Because that Caleb Followill dude has a voice like liquid sex.

And, truly, who doesn’t like liquid sex?

So there you have it, I am embracing the mainstream, for the moment.

Tell me, now, what music rocked your world in 2009?

If I did not speak French, you see, I would not get the full humor of this fucking hilarious song, Foux Du Fafa, by Flight of the Conchords. It’s been around for a while, but since this coming Sunday is the season finale of their HBO series, I decided I must draw your attention to them once again. If you are a huge fan already, bravo. If you haven’t checked them out, what the hell are you waiting for? They are two dudes from New Zealand, and this song is a bunch of gibberish. This YouTube video is courtesy of r8dkid. The song was used on the show’s eighth episode and it’s also on their new album. Genius, I tell you.

But if listening to music in a foreign language makes you break out in a cold sweat, check out a band made up of French people instead. Nouvelle Vague, as a musical collective, isn’t exactly a baby faced either, but the music is devilishly good and should be recognized a great deal more than it is. Best known for giving a lounge spin to past Top 40 hits, Nouvelle Vague makes you remember why the French are known as masters of the sensual arts. BelleBR captured this intriguing video of their cover of Yaz’s “Don’t Go.”

Doesn’t it all just make you want to grab your passport and fly off to Paris or Senegal or, if you’re desperate, Quebec? Or order some Berlitz on tape? Or maybe just groove to these tunes, pull out a nice bottle of Bordeaux, cook yourself up some haute cuisine, and convince your playmate to provide you with one or two petite morts before the day is done? Mon dieu!

It has been 22 days since Nic Harcourt screwed me, and I’m here to report that I have recovered from my heartbreak just enough to begin a mild flirtation with Jason Bentley.  I think things may get serious, though, now that Jason has rewarded me with a little joy – or, more accurately, Little Joy.  For those of you too distracted by inconsequential things like the failing economy, let me provide you the broad strokes about Little Joy.

Little Joy is a band, a fantastic band, created by Strokes drummer Fabrizio Moretti, Los Hermanos guitarist Rodrigo Amarante, and Binki Shapiro, whose totally fab name exempts her from having to have done anything but who is actually annoyingly talented as well. The band is named for one of those quintessential L.A. cocktail lounges that Swingers made almost obsolete, and it creates super-duper, simple, happiness-inducing music.  The eponymous debut album has been out almost two months, on Rough Trade Records, and the three musicians stopped by KCRW to talk to Jason this week.  I purred in response.

Stephen Troussé at Pitchfork says, “Little Joy is not going to stop the world or change your life, but it’s one of the sweetest, most listenable, consistently enjoyable records of the season.” I would argue that Little Joy is even more pleasurable than that.  But then again, I do have a soft spot for anything involving Brazilians – deixei um pedacinho de meu coraçao no Brasil. There’s another reason, however, that I like Little Joy, a reason that has nothing to do with their melodies.

Every time I hear Little Joy, I think… Little Death – le petit mort – The Big O! And yes, this is how my brain really works. Does that make me a nymphomaniac? Well, since word association is the only evidence I’m revealing at this time, I’ll vote no. Besides, who can blame me? Everyone knows orgasms feel much more like Big Joys than Little Deaths. Stubbing one’s toe, suffering a migraine, listening to George W. Bush – those are Little Deaths. So I have to love a band that makes me think happy thoughts. And I have to love Jason Bentley for giving me Little Joy in the morning this past week. As for the Big Joy… well, I don’t need Jason for that.

Little Joy \”Next Time Around\” on YouTube