After numerous tours together, indie singer-songwriter Kevin Devine and Andy Hull of Manchester Orchestra have formed Bad Books. A super group of sorts, they have recorded a self-titled album due October 19th via Favorite Gentlemen, the record label founded by Manchester Orchestra. The lyrically strong 10-song album includes five songs written by each songwriter and showcases their hidden pop sensibilities.

The churning “You Wouldn’t Have To Ask” is the first mp3 released and is a great introduction with Andy’s gruff howl and Kevin’s rich and gentle voice blending seamlessly into the straightforward power-pop.

DOWNLOAD “You Wouldn’t Have To Ask”
VISIT Bad Books

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This is Part 1 of a live interview and concert with Dan Sartain that my friends Monti Smith, Tyler Dixon and I recorded for IRR. Dan is one of those rare talents whose many sounds are rivaled only by his many facial expressions. In this part, Dan talks Mexico, zebra-painted donkeys and compromising his morals. Stay tuned for Parts 2 and 3 where Dan talks about why his new record sounds British, why rock ‘n’ roll isn’t dead and why the Ramones are still his favorite band. And go out and buy his new record – Dan Sartin Lives (www.myspace.com/dansartain).

Dan Sartain Lives – Part 1 from Ryan Bunker on Vimeo.

Check out our previous interview with him here or our album review here.

Dan Sartain @ Casbah,  San Diego, Ca.
August 18,2010
by Thirst’n Howl III

It is probably painfully obvious the huge man-crush that we have for Dan Sartain over here at IRR.  There is not much more that we look forward to than hearing his voice, be it via song or interview.  He is a terribly nice person and hilarious.  On top of that he is internationally known and has been known to rock the microphone.  Check out our previous interview with him here or our album review here.  In the next few days we will have the first of our video features appearing with him containing an interview and live song, but until than we hope that your Dan Sartain hunger can be assuaged by the following photo gallery from his recent SD show.

Chromeo @ House of Blues, San Diego, Ca.
August 16,2010
by Thirst’n Howl III

What’s that you say? Oh, you already saw the Chromeo review we did earlier.  Well, good for you.  I have not even written this review yet, but as an author  I am ready to concede that the other show review is probably far more detailed and  correct than this one will be.  This one is more of a surreal attempt at explaining the joy that is a Chromeo show.  Let’s say this is my Salvador Dali-esque attempt at painting a Chromeo picture with a little less than a thousand words (never fret there are plenty of photos with this essay ((for those less entertained by words, feel free to print them out in black and white and color them in at your fancy))

I once was legally forced to write an apology letter to my feet for the continued pain I put them through at a Chromeo show.  This is true.  Look it up under Toes Vs. TH.  The lawsuit was due to the relentless joy of seeing them live, as they deliver the sound that drives directly from the top of your head through your feet whilst in their presence.  The most recent show on the other hand was an added bonus for me, as I had recently suffered through 8 weeks of Warped Tour.  To say this is detrimental to a music snobs ears is equal to stating that getting shot with a shotgun hurts.  Damn straight it hurts.  Alot!!  So, to have my auditory escape from the dark ages of the 90′s was indeed a pleasure.  Once again, my feet were called to action.  And this time they did some Fancy Footwork without any need for legal recourse.

God Bless Good Music!!

God Bless Chromeo!!

Crystal Castles @ 9:30 Club, Washington DC

08/20/2010

By Lance Shakespear

Trying to describe my feelings for Crystal Castles is like trying to describe the taste of salt without using the term ‘salty’.  My brain just can’t function on the level necessary to be able to adequately describe them.  At times I feel as though an ice pick is being driven right through my ears into my brain, and it’s at those times that I wonder if I really do like Crystal Castles or not.  Other times, I completely fall in love with what I’m hearing, and it’s as though my brain makes some connection to the music that doesn’t necessarily have reason, but just works.

The lights turned low and the shadowed figures made their way onto the stage to their respective spots, with the exception of Alice Glass however.  Glass slowly crawled across the corner of the pedestal on which the drum set sat, as if some kind of creature, moving in on her prey.  If it weren’t for the occasional flicker of cameras in the audience, it would have been difficult to see her even doing that.  I have wondered for some time now just how Crystal Castles would sound in a live performance, and what type of stage presence they would bring to the show, but never would I have imagined it like this.  For the next 70 minutes or so, Crystal Castles took us to that dark place.  The place that frightens you at times, but never ceases to draw you in for the thrill.

Fainting Spells started off the set, and it was even more ear piercing than on the album.  Over the course of the first few minutes, Glass continued to work her jacket off, just to place it over her head as though she were still not quite ready to show her true colors.  Those colors were shades of black.

During tracks that I mentioned earlier, would normally have me questioning my loyalty to the band, I found myself drawn in to their performance on stage, in shock and anticipation for what was going to happen next.  In between bouts of flailing herself about the stage and approaching the crowd as if under some darker being’s control like a zombie, Glass drank from a large bottle of alcohol, which she didn’t hesitate to take with her into the crowd to share with anyone willing to open their mouth.  Just when the crowd would pass her back to be lowered by security, she would climb right back up on the barricade to do it all over again, submitting herself to the crowd to do with her as they please.

The performance didn’t consist of many lights, but for what was lacking in visual stimulation, Glass made up for in insanity.  Ethan Kath and the drummer stayed hidden in the shadows of the stage, though from the distractions caused by Glass, it may have been largely unnoticed.

Crystal Castles sounded great.  Ear piercing at times, and controlling the remainder of times, as the crowd would break out into fits and spurts of dancing to the beat.  Were it not for the signature style accompanied on the albums, I may be partially critical to not being able to understand the vocals.  However, were it distinguishable, they would cease to be Crystal Castles, even during the angry outbursts of screaming at the crowd in what seemed similar to a child in a temper tantrum.

Though greatly similar in style to their album sound, I was a fool for thinking Crystal Castles may be anything less.  Trying to explain it would be even more difficult than explaining their music.  The best I can do in describing it would be dark, haunting, and out of control.  In closing I felt as though I had been violated… but I think I liked it, no, loved it!

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Written by Bear

Mt St Helens Vietnam Band – Hurrah - MP3

A year or so I thought these guys were all kids. Their parents came out to their first show and it looked like the crowd was made up of pimples. I’ve since found out that there is only one band member that is younger than my little sister, the rest are a bit older. Not that that has anything to do with their music, there was just so much hype, and while their live show was good – especially for a first performance, I didn’t see the coolness about it all. I also met the drummer one Seattle afternoon a few months ago, that’s when I was still living there and he had come acallin’ for an apt – I used to manage 3 apartment buildings on Capitol Hill. Anyways, he was a great kid and we found out who each other were. So if you read this…. hello. But for all the hype I thought their music just sounded like everyone elses, and while I still think this is true, it’s better than most of their counterparts. The arrangements are stellar, the vocals are gravely and fill up your head. I recommend it to all you cool kids so you can keep being cool.

This link doesn’t work to buy the album so search google cause I don’t want to.

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Chromeo @ 9:30 Club, Washington DC
07/26/2010
By Lance Shakespear

The stage techs moved towards the front of the stage, unveiling the leg stands that almost resemble that of the leg lamp in A Christmas Story.  But these are better… there’s two sets of two legs, both glowing, and both holding the equipment that was about to blow my mind.  Immediately following, the lights turned low and the infamous Intro track pounded my chest so hard I could have effortlessly continued breathing with the thump of the bass alone.  “Chromeo, ooooh, Chromeo ooooh…”, the chant that the crowd had busted out in several times prior to this, but this time it was the real thing.  As the intro music continued to echo throughout the venue, P-Thugg and Dave 1 walked out on stage as if they owned the place.  As far as I’m concerned, they did own the place tonight.

Washington DC was the spot for Chromeo to kick off the Business Casual Tour, and things were kicked off just right.  I have to admit that due to watching live footage from Chromeo’s shows on YouTube over the past couple years, my expectations were not exceedingly high.  I’ve been a huge fan of their albums, but it always seemed that the live footage was just lacking something.  I’m very relieved to say that the reason I felt this, was because it is electronically and physically impossible to capture the energy and pure badd-assery of Chromeo live in a small streaming video with sub-par audio quality.  Chromeo was simply brilliant to put it bluntly.  The sound was amazing.  Not only did it sound better than their studio recordings, but alterations to the songs by being performed live just added to the excitement and chills that tingled throughout my body on numerous occasions tonight.  Visually, Chromeo didn’t have video playing or lasers shooting about, but I had all of the visual stimulation needed every time I glanced up on stage to see the two pairs of sexy glowing legs holding up keyboards and other audio equipment.  On top of that, Dave 1 and P-Thugg are Class A entertainers.  The two of them together had the crowd moving throughout the whole night.  I could easily say that this is hands-down one of the best duo performances I’ve ever witnessed.  Tracks performed tonight consisted of both old and new.  Where as I have been looking forward to their new album with patience, I can hardly wait to get a hold of it now.  It’s sure to be a quality album with the tracks we heard tonight.   In addition to being the fortunate enough crowd to hear a new track performed live for the first time ever, a special cover of Eagles’ I Can’t Tell You Why was also on the set list of the evening.

I can’t get over what a great performance Chromeo put on tonight.  It’s one of those shows where after it was over, I immediately reached out to friends and family across the country to notify them of Chromeo’s Business Casual Tour stop near their place of residence, urging them to check it out.  These two are on top of their game, and I can only urge others to witness it for themselves.

Dan Sartain–Dan Sartain Lives

Label: One Little Indian

Score: 8.9/10

Author: Sean David

In a quite entertaining interview with IRR’s own Thirst n’ Howl, Dan Sartain recently expressed his misgivings about touring with Social Distortion. What, with their “old-fashioned hairdos with purple stripes and Frankenstein shoes,” it may be dangerous to associate himself so closely with that rockabilly scene. In reality, Dan Sartain’s name looked better on set-lists next to the likes of The White Stripes. And it was on this 2007 tour that he learned what the rest of the world (after It Might Get Loud) now knows —Jack White may write good songs and have “good taste in musical equipment,” Sartain says, but “that dude’s a dick.” And therein lies part of the allure of Dan Sartain. In conversation he sounds like a normal guy (a “dude” if you will) who lives in his parents basement in Alabama: he’s annoyed by assholes, yearns for fame and fortune, listens to the Ramones because they’re “safe,” and seems only a little concerned about what the repercussions of calling Jack White an asshole might be. Hell, after the interview, he might even go get one of those new Chic-Fil-A sandwiches everyone is talking about.

And the only thing more entertaining than a Dan Sartain interview is Dan Sartain’s music. His unique brand of blues-tinged country-punk recalls Flat Duo Jets. Through two impressive LPs (released via San Diego’s Swami) and countless rip-roaring live-set, Sartain has become somewhat of a cult figure amongst his fans. A blue-collared singer-songwriter with just about the truest voice you‘ve ever heard. As Black Heat Processions Pall Jenkins once said, “That boy can write a song.” And anyone else who has seen his live set will know he is no slouch on the guitar either—often losing his rhythm section with his pace. On his latest album, Dan Sartain Lives, he continues on his rich run of form, picking up right where 2006’s Join Dan Sartain left off.

At one moment a country boy with an old guitar crooning away on songs like “Ruby Carol” or “Praying For a Miracle”, the next a larger-than-life ball of energy churning out foot-stomping anthems like “Voo-Doo” or “Anything I Say.” The improved production on Lives affords Sartain the ability to—more effectively than ever—showcase his range, not only as a singer-songwriter but also as an out-and-out frontman. And what makes Lives one of the best releases of 2010 is that Sartain is still essentially making the music he wants—the music that sounds like the music he likes. His lyrics are never more complicated than they need to be: “Bad things will happen if you act like a fool.” And with every track under 3 minutes, the songs are never longer than they need be either. Yet with all his brevity, Sartain is a study in efficiency when it comes to getting his messages across in a two-minute song: see “Walk Among The Cobras IV.” Lives’ thirteen tracks drip with the same pessimism, paranoia, regret, and disenchantment of his earlier releases. Sartain’s misanthropy (ie “I Don’t Wanna Go To The Party”) plays a central role in his music than ever. But his denunciations and manifestos are delivered with a wry smile and wink so as to never seem preachy or pretentious. Even the most God-fearing man would find it hard to resist bouncing along to the bass-line on “Atheist Funeral.” Whether or not you agree with his commentary, you’ll burn in hell (or somewhere roundabout) if you don’t join Dan Sartain and buy Lives today.

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Aerosmith @ Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre, Irvine, California
July 29, 2010
by Lindsay DeLong

I used to detest boys before Steven Tyler was introduced to my life. I planned on marrying my brother Camden, because I figured, if I had to marry a boy, I might as well pick one that shared my own cooties. But then I discovered Steven and realized that maybe I should keep my options open for a bit. My life changed drastically from then on. Hello boy crazy! Steven Tyler has an unnatural and alarming affect on people… even little girls.

I have been actively trying to meet Steven Tyler since I was 10. I used to send him invitations to my birthday parties each year, leaving my phone number along with the exact location, time, and theme of the event. He never came. I’ve written to Oprah because I heard that she makes dreams come true. She doesn’t. And not too long ago, I made a video for the Ellen DeGeneres show of me sitting in a bubble bath in a hideous pink polka-dot one-piece bathing suit singing the Aerosmith song, “Pink” at the top of my lungs. Ellen’s supposed to love that kind of passion-over-talent stuff… but apparently it can’t hurt the audience’s ears.

Nothing was working, and I still had an undying passion to meet him. That’s when I entered the Aerosmith’s Most Deserving Fan contest. The dedicated winner would receive a Meet and Greet with Steven Tyler and Joe Perry at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre in Irvine on July 29, 2010. Each fan had to write an essay describing why they were most deserving and I was up against some pretty fierce competition, most notably– Richard S. –“The cancer patient who overcame cancer due to Aerosmith.” His entry made me want to quit and cry. But still, I’d gone through my fair share of disappointing birthday parties and wanted to win.

It was neck and neck between him and I for the entire four days of voting. He had forums of Aerosmith fans and fellow survivors on the official website rooting for him. He was fending well– but I was too. I was now an airline stewardess, and as soon as passengers stepped onto my plane, they were fair game. They had entered my audience, and I used it to my full advantage. They had to listen to an Aerosmith speech after the mandatory “seat belt and oxygen mask operations.” I would chat people up during the beverage service handing out full cans of cola, instead of the normal splash on a cup of ice. “You want two packs of peanuts? Here, have a handful!!! (Wink wink.)” As passengers would deplane I would hand them a cocktail napkin engraved with the link to vote. After the flight people would clap, and as old ladies exited they would grab me and squeeze my wrist and whisper, “You go girl!” and “I don’t blame you… he’s sooo sexy.” The people were feeling the affect.

It worked, and I won. And to ease my conscience I made a quick vow that someday, somehow I will pass my crown to Richard S.

The big day finally came. I was completely ready. I had given up pizza, candy, and Cheez-It’s a month prior. I did sit ups and pushups. I put glitter dust on my skin and an Aerosmith temporary tattoo on my arm. I wore gold. I wore earrings flaunting Stevens face. I was a nervous wreck.

I survived the VIP Pre-Party and drank free beer to calm my nerves. I made friends with ladies who had paid $1500 each to be there. I took a picture kissing a tattooed Steven Tyler on the lower back of a girl. I checked the makeup of a woman who had just turned 50 and had Heidi Montag-fake boobs, who dropped the tip of her red lipstick down the front of her shirt, just to watch it swiftly fall out the bottom because her boobs were so spaced out and perky nothing could have stuck.

The next thing we knew we were in a single file line leading into the room where Steven and Joe were. We were allowed to have them sign one thing each. The girl with the tattoo went ahead of me, empty handed, because all she wanted/needed was Steven Tyler to sign her tramp stamp. I was next. I had a framed photo of him and his girlfriend, Erin Brady (grrrr…) on the red carpet at some event… except my face was photo-shopped over hers. We looked perfect together. I adjusted my skintight denim dress and walked in.

And that is when 17 years of preparation took control: I handed Steven the framed photo and said in one breath, “Here Steven this is for you-it’s a present-it’s me and you-only not really me and you because that’s someone else’s body-and look at my earrings-they have you on them!” And that is when Steven Tyler said to me, “You’re crazy!” And I paused and looked back at him and said, “YOU’RE crazy!” And he screamed (thee Steven Tyler scream), and then I screamed (thee Steven Tyler scream), and I swung my arms around both him and Joe Perry like they were my old buddies and we took a picture. I was then whisked outside in a blur; tears of happiness swarming down my cheeks. The first person I saw was a woman security guard and I hugged her and she hugged me back and as I nuzzled my face into her bosom she said, “I understand, I understand.”

The Steven Tyler affect conquers all. From little girls and old woman, to models and actresses, to cancer survivors and most deserving fans, to security guards and 27-year-old “crazies.” Camden is going to have to find someone else to marry. Maybe I’ll go for Richard S.

Arcade Fire: The Suburbs

Score: 8.2/10

By: Sean David

We know everybody likes the Arcade Fire, but who would of thought EVERYBODY LIKES THE ARCADE FIRE. The Suburbs is going on a week as the #1 album in America. It’s not their best release to date (Funeral), but if you look at the albums it’s beating out in the list it’s pretty extraordinary and certainly justified. So instead of writing a review for the album we’ll just tip our hats, scratch our head, and wonder how such a thing could actually happen. Are people starting to like good music?