Alexandra M. Svokos STAFF WRITER

“This is the second night of our hostile or animal takeover of New York,” the lead singer of Bloc Party, Kele, announced on Wednesday, March 25th at Terminal 5.

The crowd erupted as the band took the stage and confidently began their set. For the next hour they held the crowd’s attention playing both new and old favorites. From their newest album, Intimacy, the highlight was ‘Halo.’ As the second song in the set, it really got the crowd moving. Then the band played ‘Positive Tension.’ What’s so great about this song? Why, the break in which everyone screams “SO FUCKING USELESS,” of course. And then came ‘Banquet.’ The audience jumped, screamed, and danced around, fists pumping in the air. Well, at least the crowd on the floor did all of that. Looking up at the attendees on the balconies of the second and third floors, Kele had to mutter, “they all look so miserable what the fuck?” That really riled up those people and soon the entire building was shaking between the bass and the screaming and the dancing and the singing.

Kele announced that Bloc Party was going to play an old song, for the “real” fans. They broke into ‘The Marshalls Are Dead,’ and the “real” fans sang along. Near the end of the set, the band played ‘The Prayer.’ Again, this got the entire crowd moving and singing along, begging to be “unstoppable,” just like the band. To everyone’s delighted surprise, ‘This Modern Love,’ an older single, was performed. The first set ended and Bloc Party quickly and happily left the stage. The crew ran out, setting up a second drum set. This caused a stir in the audience as someone realized two drum sets could only be ‘Sunday.’ Sure enough, when Bloc Party reemerged, they opened with ‘Sunday.’

“This song is about waking up hung over next to someone you love. It’s pertinent to you, isn’t it?” Kele asked the drummer, Matt Tong – who, at this point, was wearing nothing more than Converse and yellow shorts.

“Enough with the ballads,” Kele said at the end of that song. He told the audience that he was going to make them dance. “It’s nice to be polite, but not at a rock concert,” he explained.

“It’s time to tear some shit up,” Gordon Moakes, the bassist/second drummer/synthesizer guy agreed. Following that, the band played a few kick-ass songs in a row. Kele followed his own advice, purposely knocking over his microphone stand immediately after a crew guy ran out to pick it up, much to the crew guy’s chagrin. For their last song, they performed ‘Helicopter’ – which you may know from Guitar Hero. The audience flipped out on this one, really getting into it. The band came together, took a bow, and left. After some urging from the crowd, Bloc Party came back out again.

“If you have any aggression, li-li-listen. If you have any aggression in your body, now is the time to set it free.” Thus began the madness. In the middle of the song, Kele jumped down into the area between the stage and the people. Everyone reached out to get a touch of him. Walking to the right side of the stage, Kele then either jumped or was pulled on top of the audience. Surfing overhead, security freaked out while he was carried in a short circle – still singing – to reach the stage once more.

At this point, the audience was more than happy to do anything the band wanted them to. Finally, Kele thanked the audience and, once more, announced that this night was much better than the night before, also in Terminal 5. For their last song, Bloc Party played ‘Like Eating Glass,’ an incredible classic from their first studio album. As Kele jumped around and the rest of the band smiled and played away, the audience screamed every word and danced for the entirety.

When the band left for good, the crowd milled around, still reveling in the power, the sound, and the memory of Kele’s ass on their hands as he passed overhead. Nice work, Bloc Party, and thank you.


Bloc Party - The Prayer.mp3
Bloc Party - Signs (Armand Van Helden Remix).mp3
Bloc Party - Mercury.mp3
Bloc Party - Banquet.mp3

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Stelios Phili EDITOR
Photos by Amanda Elmendorf.

Let us take a moment and marvel at the redheaded glory that is Ben Kweller. With fire red locks, he had the energy of a cougar and the prescence of a lion. Any man that forces me to draw animal comparisons to describe is undoubtedly awesome. As a newcomer to Ben's brand of alt-folk/country pop I was pleasantly surprised by his performance at Terminal 5. There's something very charming about Ben's awkard rock star appeal - he acts out his lyrics with his hands and he sometimes breaks into an Angus Young strut while rocking out.

The pairing of Conor Oberst (the brooding artist of Bright Eyes fame) and Ben Kweller was no mistake. Each performer has adopted a pseudo alt-country sound. Ben's entire set was performed with the aid of a slide guitar, giving each song a distinct southern twang. The classics, such as "On My Way" and "Family Tree," were countrified. And it worked. It made me dance and croon in a made-up language (my attempt to sing lyrics that I didn't know). Ben's song-writing is spectacular, you can check out a sample from his new EP below.

Conor Oberst was insane. Gone are the days of the meek, tormented poet who hid behind the moniker of Bright Eyes. Conor is now a fidgety, spraying-spit-everywhere-when-he-sings type of guy. He looks like he's going to explode. What I found most strange about Conor and his Mystic Valley Band was that a majority crowd was comprised of beer-swigging bros., raising their cups in the air at who used to be the poster-child for emotional, indie folk music. The Conor I'm familiar with came through on "Cape Canaveral," and that's when I enjoyed the band most. I am just a wussy Bright Eyes fan at heart.
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Allo! You're pop-ing nicely. Need to MORE»

Stelios Phili EDITOR

Williamsburg is notoriously known for being so hip that it can separate stripes from flannel, even force American Apparel Spandex to bleed liquefied Ray Ban’s. In the worst, but ultimately sustainable, scenario, one’s fingers are converted into organic baby carrots. If it's anything I learned from rock, paper, scissor theory, it's this: skinny jeans cover legs, legs smash hipster, hipster cuts jeans. So naturally, I chose legs - 56 of them. That's right folks, as head honcho of my student government, I amassed a posse of 28 self-aware hipster students and together we dominated funkytown.

The hippest of hip outfits were assembled. And, as pictured, I'm great at looking like a self-obsessed pseudo-intellectual who digs neon and pisses on conformity! (yes, that is a macbook reflecting in my shades). Upon exiting the L train into Williamsburg, we ate din-din at at a bistro named "Lokal." (Yup, K as in Mortal Kombat.) We cruised 6th North, passing all the essential Brookylenese landmarks - starving artists, ultra chic-refurbished warehouses, and a mechanic-garage style American Apparel. I could just feel the hairs above my lip trying to form a mustache.

Finally we arrived. O how the music hall beckoned! My knees dropped to the floor and I greeted it with my sweet embrace: "O Music Hall of Wiliamsburg! O promised land! Unhinge thy doors of hipness and let thy zealous followers sip thy sweet nectar of narcism!" Needless to say, it complied. My straw reached all the away across the room and I drank it up.

We entered the hall so early that it was fashionable. 1.5 hours before the opening band graced the stage, to be exact. There, we took refuge in the lounge, biding our time with cold, hard pseudo-intellectualism: Little eye contact. Abundant Faulkner references. And, for good measure, the occasional, "You wouldn't know what 'post-modernism' is if it BURNED YOU IN THE ASS WITH A SOLDERING IRON! "

After assembling into several pow-wows and attempting a stripped-down rendition of stomp, "And the Moneynotes" began to play (mp3 included below). I can best describe them as western saloon R&B band with a dash of Gogol Bordello. This combination was brilliant. Aside from their music, which incited a mini-hoedown, each member of the band was so distinct. The drummer looked like a 70's Albino, the singer looked like train conductor, singer no. 2 had a 50's orphan vibe going, the bassist rocked the converses, I'm pretty sure the guy who played the washing grate was, in fact, a hobo. I loved every second of it.

Walter Meego was the second act, and they were such ballers! They are an electro-rock band with a taste of Justice. First of all, the guy who made all the beats (the dude on the right) was naasssssty. That's the only way I can put. He had such a groove about him. The electronic/effects board was his bitch! I have never seen a machine so forcibly under the command of someone since I first made pop-tarts. Check out the mp3 below, it will make you get down.

Now for the main act - RA RA RIOT!!! The audience orgasmed in unison when they entered the stage. Especially upon sight of their cello player. The band was such a cohesive and sincere unit, on par with the Huxtables even. They just made me happy - it felt like I was a school-girl at a NSYNC concert!! For those of you who don't know, they are the new masters of indie pop. Violins + Cello + Skinny Jeans = Classy. (You can check out my review of their debut album here.)

Three encore's later, Ra Ra Riot left the stage. And so The Music Hall of Williamsburg satiated my hipster appetite like no other. Next time I'm bringing a mustache.

Photo by Saaniya Contractor

And the Moneynotes - My Kid Smokin'.mp3
Walter Meego - Lost.mp3
Ra Ra Riot - Dying is Fine.mp3
Ra Ra Riot - Too Too Too Fast.mp3
Ra Ra Riot - Suspended in Gaffa.mp3 MORE»

Alexandra M. Svokos STAFF WRITER

So I went to this Ben Folds concert oh...three weeks ago. I suppose it’s had enough time to marinate in my mind for me to be able to write about it. In short, it was the best concert I have ever been to. Including the Kanye West Glow in the Dark concert and that Spice Girls one where I lost my voice for a week.

I didn’t really have any expectations beforehand, in fact, I didn’t really think of it at all beforehand. My friends Neal and Allison had convinced me to come and, although I am a Ben Folds Five and just regular Ben Folds fan and really want to learn to play his songs on the piano, I wasn’t terribly excited. You see, Ben has a new album that I wasn’t familiar – at all – with.

So we got to Terminal 5 in New York City like two hours early for general admission and were near the front of the line. We stood in front of the garage of an Infiniti dealership and occasionally the entire line had to shift so a car could get in or out. My friends and I speculated what would happen if the garage door opened and Ben Folds was just chilling there, playin the guitar. The people come around checking IDs and draw that mortifying star in big black Sharpie on the hands of us under-21-year-olds.

When the doors opened and we got inside we immediately rushed to the stage. Because we were close to the front of the line, we got spots right behind the barrier for the stage. Incredible. Allison and I went to buy some merch as Neal held our spaces. There was a WFUV (it’s a radio station) table with free things so I grabbed a bumper sticker, pin, and chap stick. Chap stick? We stood around waiting and talked to the people around us about Ben Folds’ music and wives and the fact that apparently “a vote for McCain is a 20% vote for Sarah Palin.”

The opening act was Missy Higgins who was actually quite good. She sings and plays the guitar and keyboard. She has a lovely voice and smiled the whole time and has an Australian accent which caused the man next to me to shout “YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL, MATE!”

And finally, there was Ben. He opened with “Way to Normal,” a song that is actually not from their new album Way to Normal. Here’s where it gets a little confusing. Ben Folds wrote some fake (or, as Ben calls them, “bullshit”) songs with the same titles as the real songs from Way to Normal. He wrote and produced them in about a week and personally leaked them onto the internet. I liked the next song better though. It’s called “Brainwascht” and is a real song from Way to Normal about “trading jabs in a pop song.” Ben’s three great moral values flashed on a screen in the back of the stage: integrity, family, online rhyming dictionary.

Missy Higgins came out again to sing “You Don’t Know Me,” normally a duet with Regina Spektor. The set was filled with the fake and real songs from “Way to Normal” with one or two exceptions. Even though I didn’t know the songs, I found myself screaming and jumping around anyways. Ben Folds has such a great presence on stage, always smiling and laughing and clearly enjoying himself. He straddled the piano bench as he played so that he might as well have been standing as he smashed the keys. At one point he told us that it was a good day to see them perform because it was actually the day Way to Normal was released. Additionally, they “still cared about making it sound good” because it was the beginning of the tour.

“Kylie from Connecticut” is one of those slow, sad songs, the climax of which was Ben literally plucking the strings of the piano. He played “Hiroshima,” one of the more popular new songs which is a true story of him falling off the stage while performing in Japan. And then there was “The Frown Song.” It’s a real song from the new album about rocking on with your fashionable frown and the performance was highlighted by…a keytar-playing man wearing a giant frown face costume. Hilarious.

Ben Folds played the fake version of “Bitch Went Nuts,” and then was gone. Off the stage concert over. Or maybe not… Not surprisingly, he came out for an encore. Surprisingly, the encore was a complete set filled with old classics. “Army,” “Rocking the Suburbs,” and “Kate” had me losing my mind screaming the lyrics and jumping around. He finished spectacularly with the fake version of “The Frown Song.” Another man was playing the piano as Ben walked around the stage singing. At one point he walked over to our end of the stage and I screamed and he looked at me and I almost passed out. Whatever. “The Frown Song” was highlighted by that giant frown costume (no keytar though…) and Ben jumping onto his piano singing.

And then he was gone. Off the stage concert over. Or maybe not… HOLY CRAP HE CAME OUT FOR A SECOND ENCORE!!! As it was Rosh Hashanah, the second encore opened with Ben sitting on the piano playing…Hava Nagila? Really? Yup. Then he played and exhilarating “Philosophy,” an older song and added some strings of Miserlou into the piano. When the song finished, the concert was really over and everyone pushed slowly out of the venue. Neal, Allison, and I drove home, stopped for some midnight McDonald’s, and decided that it was definitely absolutely the greatest concert ever.
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Stelios Phili EDITOR

Stop punching me, Amy Winehouse! And you, Duffy, stop being so damn...boring. Oh Adele? Please keep being the talented, witty, brit that you are.

Out of all the soulful songstresses to come out of England this year, Adele is a dozen cuts above the rest. Her vocal style is eclectic. In certain songs, we hear a voice that is akin to that of a mighty black woman; in others, the soft-spoken shy girl who sat in the back of math class. And seeing her this past Wednesday at Webster Hall, the haunted house of venues (dimly lit chandeliers, foggy mirrors,  and walls covered with paintings of, what appear to be, multi-colored madmen), only highlighted these qualities. Damn girl, you got it going on!

Although Adele is from across the pond, her passionately heartbroken lyrics are a universal subject. Consequently, it was not surprising to see men twice my (effeminate) size singing along to "Chasing Pavements." Shouuuld I give up or should I just keep chasing pavemeeents, even if it leeeads nooo wheeereee? The crowd was also the most ethnically diverse group that I have ever been apart of - it would not surprise me if Adele was a college admissions officer.

As for Adele herself, she was simply spectacular. The singing was spot-on, living up to every expecation set by her debut album, 19 (read the full PopSense review here). And while most artists tend to ignore the cries of fans, Adele embraces them.  In response to one fan's cat calls, Adele, in her best Brooklyn accent replied "You a nassty girl!" During "Daydreamer," one of the softest, most delicate songs on the album," Adele interjected just before the chorus, "It's awfully hot in here, I'm all sweaty!" and wipes her face with a white towel. It was awfully hot, and I was awfully sweaty as well - Adele relates to her audience and never takes herself too seriously. She is the kind of artist that performs for the crowd, not the type that merely sings in a room where a crowd of people just happen to be. 

Seeing Adele live is a must. My PopSenses were going through the roof. 

Adele - My Same.mp3
Adele - Chasing Pavements.mp3 MORE»

Stelios Phili EDITOR

-Mke Kennelly

I saw Ray Davies live at The Beacon Theatre last Tuesday and it was fucking awesome. It’s taken me a week to get over how awesome it was just so I could tell you how awesome it was. Actually, no, I’ve just had a lot of homework since then. I had to read Crime and Punishment and do a thirty page Physics problem set. And the morning after the concert I had to take a Calc test. Which I got an A- on. Go to a rock concert, get your best grade in Calc since starting College. Good to know. So the past week would have been really awful for me if I wasn’t running on the emotional high from Ray. But since I was, I had a brilliant week.

So, for all of you who don’t know, and are too lazy to wikipedia him, Ray Davies was the frontman for the British Invasion band The Kinks. If you want to know more, read the bloody wiki. Now I really like The Kinks, I consider them my favourite band. And not in the pretentious hipster way that most other Kinks fans of my generation do. I like them because my dad really likes them, and when I first was getting into music, he gave me a lot of Kinks to listen to. But Ray got shot, and Dave had a stroke, and it’s not like the band had actually existed since I was about six (and even then they were kind of floundering) so I’d never really even entertained the possibility I’d see them live. But about a month ago I got an email from my Dad saying that he had four tickets to see Ray Davies on April 8th and I got pretty excited. Okay, I kinda flipped out for a while. Turns out that I’m easily set off these days. Like when Rose just showed up and then faded into nothingness in the last minute of the Doctor Who series premiere. What was up with that? But I digress. Anyway, Ray was in North America for a short (7 show) tour for his new solo album, Working Man’s Café. Which is actually really good, especially in comparison to his first solo release, Other People’s Lives.

I went to the concert with my mom, my dad, and my dad’s brother Joe. Which sounds lame, but it wasn’t. Because my dad and his brother are the biggest Kinks fans I know. They’re original Kinks fans, and saw them a lot back in the day. I did think about asking someone my age to come, but I felt that they wouldn’t be into it like I was. I don’t know any pretentious hipsters who like The Kinks, and plus those guys don’t actually know any of The Kinks catalogue, they just like putting a 45 of Village Green on their dorm room wall although they don’t even own a turntable. Cuz they’re wankers. And Ray does not abide by wankers. Additionally, I kinda wanted to be the only younger person close to the stage (we were in the third row). This was foiled by two separate dads who brought their little (like less than ten years old) daughters and sat in the front row. But they were so cute. I couldn’t be mad.

So, because my parents have always raised me to be crazy on time for everything, we got to the Beacon at 7:50 and met Uncle Joe at the seats. He’d probably been there since like four or something. He’s funny like that. More on that later. Anyways, after a meh opening duo featuring the Janis Joplin look-alike from the Across the Universe movie singing the Homecoming song that apparently every new indie band (including JLE and Stelios of this site) has to write nowadays Ray showed up. Thank the Gods. He just kinda strutted out all cocky and just picked up his guitar and started playing “I’m Not Like Everybody Else.”

Which was just the start of the awesomeness. “I’m Not Like Everybody Else” holds a special place in my heart not only because I love what the song says, not only because all the live versions I’ve heard are a billion times better than the studio recording, not just because I custom made a t-shirt with some of the lyrics and a picture of an interdimensional portal I built in my basement on it, but because it was the first song that I learned to play on the guitar when I decided to have a quarterlife crisis and become a rock star.

As Ray got started, and went to town (look up the lyrics) his backing band slowly joined him. For an assortment of musicians from around the British Isles, and a Keyboardist from Norway or something, these guys definitely had their act together, and knew their place. And the lead guitarist was tight. My dad and I agreed that if Ray and Dave should ever bring The Kinks back together (cross your fingers), They should just stick Dave in a wheelchair with a guitar hero controller or something and let this guy go at it. And I love Dave, but the guy had a blood vessel pop in his head. C’mon, he’s gonna need some help.

The first set included several other older Kinks semi-hits: “Where Have All The Good Times Gone”, “Till The End Of The Day”, and “Dead End Street”. All were nice to hear, but their place was definitely here in the show, before the crowd, whose average age was probably around 50, really got into it. Ray also stuck in “The Tourist” and “After the Fall”, the only two good songs from Other People’s Lives into the first set. Because I guess he felt he needed to acknowledge his previous solo work. But whatever. He had a cool Union Jack Suit Jacket that I totally want, though. Ray introduced his new album, Working Man’s Café with the title track and a few anecdotes about living in New York and how the city’s changed, been taken over corporately, just as the new album addresses. He also did “Well Respected Man” because “it’s been in a movie recently and they told me to play it”. Ray admitted he hadn’t seen the movie yet. I yelled that he shouldn’t. Because Juno sucks. See previous posts for why. And they totally missed the point of the song with the way it’s used in the film, which was the only part of the movie I liked. “Well Respected Man’s” subversive and ironic, but its use in Juno is straight, as if the Well Respected Man is someone you want to be. I’m glad that the wankers who made that film don’t get Ray. And the fact that “Well Respected Man” was played over Diablo Cody winning the Oscar made it bearable. I’m really glad to finally get that out there. I fucking hate Juno.

The first set ended with an intense and elaborate version of “20th Century Man”. My dad had been toting this song to me for a few weeks, and I know he really likes it, so I was happy for him. After a short intermission (The guy’s 63, he deserves an intermission) Ray and his lead guitarist returned for an acoustic set of Working Man’s Café songs. I felt the mood of this second set fit the album well. It reflected how Davies is older, more refined than his full out rock days twenty five years ago. But it still had the same Kinks vibe, especially “Vietnam Cowboys”. I was surprised to find out the song was written in 1999, because its anti-globalisation message seems even more relevant today. But I guess it just shows how the world is continuing to circle the drain. The only song off the new album I felt was missing was “You’re Asking Me”, which should’ve replaced “No One Listen”. But my dad said that You’re Asking Me’s “Anti-Audience”, whatever that means. Buy the album and decide for yourself. Or not. If you’re still reading this shit, you most likely have the album.

After an interlude of “Fancy”, Ray went into his third set of more classic Kinks. “Sunny Afternoon” finally got the geriatric audience on their feet. Except Uncle Joe, he stayed seated. This seemed to piss off the drunk willowy blonde chick with a shirt reading “69” in front of us. When I asked him about it afterwards he responded “I, also, am not like everybody else”. He’s weird like that.
Next, The Norwegian keyboardist whipped out a freaking accordion and launched into “Come Dancing”. Now this was one of the Kinks songs from their kinda dead late seventies-eighties period I really wanted to hear, but wasn’t really expecting to hear. Among these types of songs were “Supersonic Rocket Ship”, “Better Things”, “Low Budget”, “Misfits”, and “Apeman”. But more than any of these songs I really wanted Ray to play “Victoria”.

Ray closed out the third set with “Tired of Waiting for You”, “Set Me Free”, and “All Day and All of the Night” (Note the Oxford Comma. Who gives a fuck about an Oxford Comma?). Ray added a nice tribute to his little brother’s guitar innovation on the last number. He also accused Dave of sending spies with text messages to report back to him on every time Ray mentioned his name.

And now for the Encores, which were epic. Like Lord of the Rings after snorting nuBSG’s ashes Epic. First came a Heineken inspired version of “Low Budget”, which no one seemed to expect but everyone seemed to enjoy. “Low Budget” was one of the first Kinks songs my dad gave me, and for about a month I thought it was written about today’s economy. And the band split.
Then Ray returned to play the songs everybody who doesn’t know The Kinks knows, “Waterloo Sunset” and “Lola”. I have a certain degree of antipathy towards these songs, because they’re the songs everybody who doesn’t know The Kinks knows, but the night had been so awesome up to that point that I didn’t mind. Still I felt they’d leave a slight bitter taste in my mouth. I’d given up on “Victoria” at this point, and was just happy with hear anything. So that appeared to be the encore, but Ray brought back his acoustic guitar to play “Days” and “Imaginary Man”, two much more satisfying slower numbers, one old and one new. As Ray sang “Is this really it, is this the final station” in Imaginary Man he smiled knowingly. Of course it wasn’t. The band barely feigned leaving the stage for the fourth time before returning to tell the origin story of “You Really Got Me” and tell off those wankers who say Jimmy Page played that solo one more time. Wankers.

So that was it. Go out on the big one. But it wasn’t. 'Cause Ray Came back one more time.

“So what do you guys wanna hear?” he asked.

“Victoria!” I yelled back.

“You want The Village Green Preservation Society?” he said, as he tuned up his guitar.

“Yeah!”

“Or Celluloid Heroes?”

“Sure!” I don’t even like Celluloid Heroes that much, but at that point I was just thrilled to be getting another song.

“I know what you want.”

And he played “Victoria”, and I jumped up and don and my iPod jumped out of my pocket and is know buried in multiple pieces somewhere under the Beacon Theatre’s stage. Or someone else scooped it up and now has a lot of good Kinks songs, as well as everything in Rock Band or Guitar Hero and MP4s of the first two seasons of Angel. But I don’t care. I can get another iPod. Nothing will ever be as awesome as the feeling of that moment.
That is, until Dave’s up there to. And Mick and Pete, as well. Why the hell not, they're still alive.

God save

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