Monthly Archives: October 2016
Colin Meloy from the Decemberists playing all three parts of the Crane Wife in order during a powerful acoustic performance on KEXP.
First thing that comes to mind when listening to The Hugeness self-titled debut full length album is ambition. The album, in keeping with the band’s self-described influences (unicorns, majestic bald eagles, freedom, lightning, big ass monitor lizards, killer whales, and the moon), immediately introduces itself with grandiose theatrical explosion in “Dedicated.”
The Hugeness is a big shameless supernatural beastial orgy and everyone is invited. There’s a kind of Muse flavor to the whole shindig, coupled with some crazy 80’s hair buoyed by some virtuosic guitar compositions. On the surface, it’s easy to write off as something that, hmm…that maybe you wouldn’t necessarily throw on to impress a date (unless she was a Siren of Venus or had two heads and a tail or some shit). I guess what I’m trying to say is that this isn’t really my kind of music, and that wall made it hard for me to appreciate the album at first. But it’s hard to ignore all the influences absorbed (in addition to unicorns and whales) within the work of The Hugeness.
Upon more calculated observation, and you can tell each song, at least it seems like, is a bona fide composition, with complex layers and instrumentation. What I was most taken with though, was the writing. There is some damn good poetry in here, the kind that requires unpacking, which is something (particularly today) that warrants great respect in songwriting. “Bow Tie,” the third song in, is where I kind of started to take this catharsis in. I think my favorite is the more sensitive “Isabel.” There’s a kind of high-brow, radical goofy flair I’m left to take-away upon concluding the piece, in the best possible way. The whole thing is marauding, epic, and pretty strange. I mean, I wasn’t kidding–the band listed unicorns, lizards, whales, and freedom as their artistic inspiration. That is, if nothing, pretty cool. I don’t know, I’m kind of lost. But ultimately, this full length debut commands some respect.
Written by – Freddy Dubs, ASPFSP.com
The ASPFSP crew is joined by past guests Matt Brein and Ron Chavez to chat about some great times in memory of Josh Fischel. Some listeners call in with their own thoughts and we play plenty of amazing songs from Josh over the years.
The last time I was here was to meet with Tomato of Sound of Urchin for an interview and some meatloaf. We had met in the Green Room before moving to the stage for the show itself. Tonight is a bit different–I’m returning a few weeks later, but for a totally different venture. Tonight is the screening for A Fat Wreck, a documentary (or, somewhat lamely, referred to as a punk-u-mentary on the production company’s website). It is an immersive look into Fat Wreck Chords, probably the most important punk label in America.
The bartenders tonight are still appropriately direct and appreciatively rude, the Beat Kitchen still smells like bones and pabst (not terrible), and the crowd is still very hipster with a touch of metal. However, the stage now features a large screen and projector, and there are 12 or so rows of neatly arranged pleather chairs, almost, like church pews, facing the stage, and age outliers are rare–I’d say it’s mostly 30’s and up. This is not the first time I’ve felt a sort of holiness at the Beat Kitchen. After the Sound of Urchin show, I wrote about a few front-and-center rockers thrashing to Urchin, praying to them and their music.
Tonight, every seat is filled, and the congregants are patiently piously awaiting for the screening to begin. You can tell everyone here did not find themselves at this screening by the wayside–these are passionate fans of Fat Mike (leader of NOFX and subsequently Fat Wreck Chords) and of at least some of the dozens of bands underneath the umbrella of Fat. I know this because everyone here is older than me, most of the men have impressive beards that are beyond my own manhood, and very few are doing any serious drinking. It’s all about the music tonight, and it certainly didn’t disappoint.
I don’t, and can’t, give away too many details regarding what transpired during the actual film, but I can say it was awesome and hilarious. From an extended anecdote about a sassafrass dosing, to the 00’s callout of Fat Mike by recent sign on Propaghandi, the doc is equal parts intellectual, debaucherous, and hilarious. Essentially, punk as cinema–definitely give it a look here.
Review Written by Dylan Weinert Aka Freddy Dubs