So, for folks who just don’t get Radiohead’s new record or are in need of a Limbs palate-cleanser, here are eight new, great tunes from local artists to check out.

via Other Limbs | Music | The A.V. Club Chicago.

Eight then-new singles to check out.

Joking aside, Castevet’s success is a big deal. For a band that plays basement shows as often as Castevet, the opportunity to release an album on a foreign label like Japan’s Stiff Slack Records doesn’t happen every day. Castevet is doing something big. And that big thing is emo.

via The New Emo: It’s back, living underground and thriving in Chicago | Newcity Music.

I’ve been toying around with this article for close to a year. Yet, it didn’t come to fruition until a couple months back. A big thanks to Newcity for once again slapping one of my ideas on the cover. Also, a well-deserved thanks is due to Nick Wakim (Castevet), Anton Kropp (Monument), Patrick Delehanty (Joie De Vivre) and Keith Latinen (Empire! Empire!) for lending their voices to the piece. Read it here.

Image by AFP/Getty Images via @daylife

Germany’s Love Parade, an annual dance music festival, was the scene of a terrible tragedy this weekend [via the L.A. Times]:

At least 19 people reportedly died at the Love Parade, a well-known dance event in the German city of Duisburg, and more than 340 were said to be injured as the apparent closure of a gate resulted in a suffocating crush of people. Duisburg Mayor Adolf Sauerland was quoted in German press as saying the Love Parade was “one of the biggest tragedies the city has ever experienced,” and festival organizers announced Sunday that the event would be  discontinued permanently.

Yes, the incident is, to put it mildly, horrible. But how the aftermath is handled must be done carefully. The Economist‘s coverage of the event displays a dangerous pitfall in the reaction to the deaths, yet one that’s understandable throughout:

IT IS going to take some time to sort out just what happened at this year’s “Love Parade” and who is to blame.

That statement, specifically “who is to blame,” seems to reside in many of the emotions one would expect to encounter after a tragedy like this. And I fear that in such a state of emotions, the scenario to permanently shut down these kinds of events will move from “an option” to the popularly-supported option, aka “the option.” There’s no doubt that, in the search for “someone to blame” or “those responsible,” part of the focus will eventually focus on the music itself. Individuals will come out of the woodwork to speak out against live music, in this case techno and trance specifically, and others will join in the conversation. It’s already happened in L.A., where the city government established a “rave task force” after a grim death at a music festival this summer [via the L.A. Times]:

The Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors voted Tuesday to establish a task force to examine and “enhance rave safety” after last month’s Electric Daisy Carnival led to more than 100 hospitalizations. A 15-year-old girl died last week of a suspected drug overdose after attending the two-day dance event at the L.A. Memorial Coliseum and adjoining Exposition Park, which drew between 80,000 and 100,000 people per day.

While it’s great to see county boards showing they care by creating tasks forces after a tragic event, it’s often painful knowing that, sometimes, these events could have been prevented because of better oversight prior to the event. Take the E2 Nightclub tragedy in 2003, where 21 people died in a stampede at the Chicago nightclub. A report on the stampede [see article sidebar] revealed a number of license violations, ranging from liquor license issues to capacity violations, that were reported months prior to the tragic event. With better communication between the various government branches, those 21 individuals may not have had to die.

While improved government oversight is key, there must be checks and balances. There’s something insidious in a rave task force because it focuses far too much on a specific genre of music, as if outcasting it simply by name rather than by, say, security issues across the board. There appears to be a new movement to place an overwhelming amount of pressure – economically and bureaucratically – on those who host the events, and not at all in a constructive manner.

There’s Chicago’s promoter’s ordinance, which calls for untold fees placed upon mid-sized and small venues. So, rather than a renewed focus on, say, targeting venues with a history of safety issues (such as E2), the legislation merely targets any and all venues. It’s an ordinance that reeks of faux-responsibility, while having the potential to do irreparable damage to the city’s independent music community which lives in the small venues, practically driving underground music, well, underground. Though the ordinance is tabled, it could come back for a vote at any time. All the while a businessman by the name of Kevin Killerman, who has a history of liquor license violations and a handful of bars in his command, has near-exclusive control over alcohol sales at Lollapalooza. Legislation should be made to prevent the irresponsible from handling such massive live events, instead of hindering an entire city’s cultural experience.

The same thing has been in the works in Philadelphia. That bill provides the police department with near-complete control over the entire city’s live music. Again, the potential to kill off many small live music venues due to an overly-bureaucratic paperwork system, mostly because of a fracas at a large concert. And again, a misdirection of focus on those responsible. I fear the same may happen in L.A., in Germany, and elsewhere in the world.

It’s valid when The Economist wisely ponders the question of how long it will take to find those responsible. Yet, the recent-past has shown that responsibility is an ambiguous word. It’s an ambiguous word when the former owners of E2 were sentenced to two years in prison, and the decision was made nearly seven years after the tragedy. It’s an ambiguous word when headline-grabbing legislation is created to defer obligations to public safety to those who have protected crowds from danger day after week after month after year. It’s an ambiguous word when the issue at hand gets distorted by a fear of a foreign sound, be it techno or something else. Here’s hoping that, no matter what happens, those who would go to great extremes to see live music don’t end up suffering.

Image via Wikipedia

This week, Newcity published an article I wrote on Chicago’s bad movie scene. “So-bad-it’s-good” movies have been getting a lot of press lately. There’s “Birdemic: Shock and Terror,” “The Room” and “Troll 2,” which is finding even more approval due to the recent documentary on the B-movie,”Best Worst Movie,” making the rounds on the critical and national moviegoing scene.

I’ve been interested in “cult films” for sometime, and the ambiguous world of “good-bad” films factors quite well into that world. And I noticed a certain rousing interest in “good-bad” movies in Chicago. So I spent several months delving further into this world. I spent many midnights and an entire day watching movies at the Music Box, attended “Bad Meaning Good,” a bad movie screening series, the first Monday of every month, watched episodes of “Mystery Science Theater 3000″ online, got a membership to Chicago independent rental store and cinema, Facets.

And, of course, not everything made it into the final copy. One thing that didn’t was a brief explanation of part of the appeal of bad movies, and the similarities to certain kinds of music:

In many ways, those tiny failures are a reflection of reality we know all too well. In the same way that musicians like Daniel Johnston or The Moldy Peaches are beloved for their strange, childlike musical creations, the best bad movies can reveal something about the genuine human experience in those little, unintended mishaps.

It’s just one of many thoughts on the subject that popped into my head during the months I’d dedicated to dissecting the subject. And I must thank those who were happy to discuss bad, cult and b-movie culture with me: Tommy Wiseau (writer/director/producer/star of “The Room”), James Nguyen (writer/director/producer of “Birdemic”), Patrick Dowell (recent DePaul grad and bad movie fan), Brian Andreotti (the Music Box’s program director), Jason Deuchler (cinematographer, DJ and “Bad Meaning Good” coordinator), Jarrett Spiegel (DJ and “Bad Meaning Good” coordinator), Michael Rousselet (co-creator of “5-Second Films“), Peter Debruge (Variety writer), John Wilson (actor and “Bad Meaning Good” host), Joe Rubin (Odd Obsession volunteer manager and film historian) and John Aranza (owner of Horrorbles) all pitched in. They all had great things to say, and unfortunately not all of it made it into the article. There’s just too much to write about. Perhaps it could make for a good book someday.

If you’re curious about the scene in Chicago, head over to Newcity and read more. (Or grab a print copy if you’re in Chicago.) And if you want to see this scene in action, head to the Music Box this weekend for the Chicago premier of “Birdemic.”

Before that, enjoy the following videos of some key “good bad” movies:

“Birdemic” trailer:

[vimeovid id="9592175"]

“Best Worst Movie” trailer:

[youtubevid id="kcRyNY13Nnc"]

“Troll 2″ trailer:

[youtubevid id="9KCct4RwLNM"]

“The Room” trailer:

[youtubevid id="yCj8sPCWfUw"]

In the trailer for the new movie “Birdemic: Shock and Terror,” the film’s hero celebrates a million-dollar deal with a high-five from a co-worker. That money is an achievement, a goal people think about endlessly.

It’s something recent DePaul University graduate Patrick Dowell ponders from time to time. And Dowell knows just what he’ll do with that cash.

“I just wish I had one-million dollars: I’d buy every bad movie ever made if I could,” Dowell says.

via Horrid Shows: What, and who, is behind our bad-movie obsession? | Newcity Film.

I’ve been interested in cult films since my friend Asher took me to see a midnight screening of “Evil Dead 2.” Within that large cult film community rests a smaller body of movie fans who enjoy those films with inherent bad qualities, and a lot of bad qualities to boot. This scene has gotten a lot of attention lately, so I set out to write about the community as it exists in Chicago.

A big thanks goes out to all who were involved in the process, especially those who gave me the time to interview them: Tommy Wiseau (of “The Room”), James Nguyen (“Birdemic”), DJs Intel and Popstatic, Pat Dowell, Michael Rousselet (“5-Second Films”), Peter Debruge (Variety writer), Brian Andreotti (Music Box program director), John Wilson, and a number of other folks. And a big thanks goes out to Josh Karp for guiding me through the article and New City for publishing it as a cover story.

But, enough chatter. Read it!

The Pavilion has 4,000 fixed seats, and the lawn fits about 7,000 people. When She & Him performed at Millennium Park’s concert pavilion Monday, the number of people that can fit in the area grew exponentially. It wasn’t a comfortable fit: It created a cramped, huddled mass, with people setting up blankets and chairs on any slab of pavement or spot of grass next to the pavilion’s borders in the same way settlers would mark their newfound Western territory with flags. And it was all to see She & Him.

And who exactly are She & Him? Well, She & Him is a duo comprised of indie-folk artist M. Ward and actress Zooey Deschanel. (There are session musicians who perform with the duo too, but let’s set that aside for the moment.) M. Ward has made a name for himself within indie circles for his tireless creation of folk-related pop music.

And Zooey Deschanel? Why, she’s the star of many beloved films such as “The Happening”:

[youtubevid id="SuiYtS7PuyU"]

And “Liar Liar 2“ ”Yes Man”:

[youtubevid id="FwYEuYP_sjY"]

And don’t even get me started on the vapid “Family Guy” movie curated to indie music/film lovers, “(500) Days of Summer.” But, as long as we’re on the subject, Deschanel’s character in that film consisted mostly of being hoisted on a pedestal and looking pretty.

Which is a large part of her appeal. As I looked around the crowd at Millennium Park, I pondered any number of things. Mostly, I was befuddled by the sheer size of the crowd. Were there really 11,000+ people in Chicago who were even aware M. Ward exists? Or even in the park? The sheer size of the audience was perplexing because, as a friend at the show mentioned, there have been better bands on the stage at the Pritzker Pavilion that haven’t drawn the same numbers.

So what’s the appeal? Not everyone there could have felt the same way I feel about She & Him, or rather, Zooey Deschanel: That level of apathy would have seen people turning away in droves. Sure, some people may have been in my shoes, planted on the pavilion grounds for the company and not the quality of the entertainment. But, people like the band.

And suddenly it struck me: She & Him is the indie equivalent of Michael Bublé. Like Bublé, She & Him present a distinct “indie-crafted” style. They perform a distinct, safe form of “indie” music. They’re a good looking group with an inoffensive sound that moms and kids can bop too. And they perform a lot of covers.

Like “(500) Days of Summer,” She & Him are an amalgamation of nondescript indie culture and style, especially hip to the style but not much on individuality. Even their band name – She & Him – draws upon the concept of a collaboration between an indie-approved actress and a folk artist with plenty of indie cred. You know what you’re in for long before you hear the first note from a She & Him tune. It’s tailor made for those with subversive taste and a taste for seemingly subversive fashion to enjoy. Kinda like Michael Bublé.

Knowing what I was in for, I left the show before She & Him could take the stage. Besides, if there were so many others hot to see the band, it was best that they take that hard-to-find spot I held.

Still, She & Him did bring something surprising to the show: Hollows. The Chicago quartet held their own with an impressive mix of ’60s-era garage rock, girl group doo-wop and a nice slice of punk panache. There’s nothing quite like a nice set of entertaining, original tunes to make an excellent summer evening.

[vimeovid id="8942484"]

Image via Wikipedia

I haven’t had a morsel of sweets pass my lips since the middle of February. That is until today, when I attended the National Confectioners Association’s Sweets & Snacks Expo 2010. With more than 450 companies rolling out products new and old, this is where anyone who wishes they could be Charlie Bucket would want to be to make their wildest fantasies come true.

The Sweets & Snacks Expo couldn’t have been further from my mind 67 days ago, when my stomach was turning in on itself after I indulged in one heavy duty cupcake. Always willing to soothe my sweet tooth (read: all my teeth fall into the category of “sweet tooth”), I developed quite a habit of eating sweets. In many cases, I never had to try very hard to get them: Be it in the workplace or in school, some delicious morsel was always within reach. I don’t consider myself much of a foodie, but I get ecstatic when it comes to sugar-coated snacks.

That is until one fateful night in February, where my I pushed my tolerance for sweets to the limit with one rich cupcake. Delicious as it was, I figured it was time to give my sweet tooth and body a break from confectionary cuisine for a little while. Sure, it was hard at first. The endless free treats passed around in school were enough to give me an ulcer. Same with the sheer number of candy and sweet ads on TV, in the paper, and just about everywhere I turned. I couldn’t go into a supermarket or convenience store without hitting a wall… of brightly-colored packages containing some creative combination of chocolate, caramel, peanut and/or nougat.

Somehow I persevered. For about a month, I had no set end date in sight. That is, until I remembered the Sweets & Snacks Expo was to be held in May right here in Chicago. I filled out a press pass application soon thereafter, and counted down the days until candy and I could be together again.

That day came around a lot quicker than I anticipated, and suddenly May 25 became the present. But, I had a problem. Or many problems. I had class in Evanston until the afternoon. I also had my school things with me, and I could not bring them the convention. The convention was at the McCormick Place, practically a foreign country from out in Evanston. And the convention ended at 5 p.m.

But, somehow Metric has found success outside their home country. As their set at Chicago’s Vic Theatre on Thursday showed, they can not only handle playing to large crowds, but excel at the task as well. Unlike opening act Bear In Heaven – who’s introspective, headphones-ready sound felt underwhelming and a tad minuscule on the Vic’s massive stage – Metric displayed an understanding of how to pull a massive audience into a cohesive, spellbound unit.

The group’s swelling, potent pop sound did wonders at the Vic, as Metric faithfully performed songs from their growing discography to a “t.” The cathartic build-up to the chorus of “Help I’m Alive” saw the quartet pull full-steam ahead, as frontwoman Emily Haines took the group by the reins. As charismatic a leading lady as any rocker, she knew how to approach the stage, her bandmates and the crowd just right. Not too over the top, not too bland, a nice hint of passion and plenty of musical dexterity: A potent bit of rock chemistry for putting on a good show.

And Metric certainly understands how to play the “rock band” role. Perform the hits (“Sick Muse,” “Gimme Sympathy,” etc), sprinkle the stage banter with the name of the town you’re playing (“hello Chicago”), stick the encore. Aside from an awkward employment of the Beastie Boys’ “Fight For Your Right” in the middle of a low-key ditty, it was a solid rendition of the rock ‘n roll role we all expect from rock stars that play big theaters.

It wasn’t until Haines and guitarist James Shaw performed an acoustic rendition of “Combat Baby” during the encore that the curtain of rock mystique fell and revealed many of the reasons why Metric has become so popular: Even though they’re a band with an arena ready sound, they can strip their songs down to its stark, intimate elements and reveal more heart than the type of rock cliche gloss usually parlayed on big stages. It’s good to see someone is keeping the heart of rock beating under the bright lights.