The day I’ve been waiting for has finally come. After waiting 19-odd months, today is the day we bring you a new song from the Ettes. Look at Life Again Soon, out March 11, picks up where their debut Shake the Dust left off, continuing their self-described beat-punk, adding a little more 60’s reverb to drench Coco’s coo-ing, a little more of Jem’s dirty bass, and whole lot of more of Poni’s pounding the snot outta her drum kit. Catch them if you can on their way from Florida to SXSW.
Original Post 6/20/2006:
Yes, it happens to me several times a year, maybe even a month, where I find my new favorite band. For the past week and a half now, the Ettes are my new favorite band. We here at 3hive try to avoid personal and patronizing (ie., brown-nosing) statements such as that in our quest to share the sharing, but with the Ettes, I just can’t help myself. Their girl-lead, blues-inspired garage rock is sharp and pulsing and induces a state of air-guitaring and posturing. See what I mean?
For this President’s Day, a holiday usually celebrating George Washington’s birthday, let’s look at the modern namesake of the party of John Adams, second president of the United States. The Federalists (the band), with their smart indie rock and a penchant for occasional flashes of electronics, hopefully will not repeat the political mistake of the Federalists (the political party) in opposing with War of 1812, which led to their eventual demise after Andrew Jackson’s surprise victory at New Orleans.
Buffalo’s Lemuria has been been a real working band since their formation in 2004. Touring, touring, and then more touring. So after putting out various singles and EP’s, their debut album Get Better is out now on Asian Man Records. And their song below, “Pants,” has triggered my obsessive compulsive disorder; besides having me absolutely hooked, it’s so catchy, fuzzy, and snappy, that after Sheena sings “You never missed a word I tried to fit/Inside a chorus, inside a verse, all my intros and the bridge/That’s where I put all the awful things I think I am/And if you still respect me I guess I’ll have a second chance” I want to tell her that she leaves a great first impression.
In 2001, while I was living in Mark Eitzel’s hometown of San Francisco, I saw him play at the Great American Music Hall as part of the annual Noise Pop Festival. Eitzel is notoriously passionate about his music and stories abound about his being brought to tears by the memory of the songs he sings while he’s playing them. On this night, however, the spirit was more a mix of frustration and contrition. He was trying out new material and just couldn’t seem to hit the right notes. Plus, he’d been preceded to the stage by Bright Eyes and he seemed self-conscious and intimidated by Connor Oberst’s raw yet nearly flawless performance. Eitzel is a consummate musician, and on that night it seemed apparent that the old adage applied and he just didn’t want to have to follow Oberst’s act. Which was too bad, because many times I’ve seen Eitzel, both solo and with American Music Club, play warm, intimate sets that command your attention like the glow of a single candle in darkness. Likewise, the songs that American Music Club have made since reforming almost four years ago after a decade-long break are certainly older, wiser and more refined. But they’re hardly workmanlike — Eitzel and crew are much less concerned about what we all think, and we think it’s all the better as a result.
I’m filling in for Lisa today; she’s off doing the New York thing, you know. — working. Actually, so are The Apple Bros. They’re working the rock star gig, though it sounds more like New York, Alabama, than the Big Apple, NYC. Really, I thought I’d have a little fun with this post, seeing as Lisa’s about as far from a good ol’ boy as you can get. She’s probably too young to be a Dukes of Hazzard fan anyway. I think, however, that she’ll like the hip-shaking, bluesy rock from her five boroughs neighbors.
They sound like they’re making music in post-punk London, circa 1979. They look like they’re from Modesto, CA, circa 1999. Inspired musically by Camus, fashionably by Steinbeck. Because they don’t fit the mold, it’s doubtful you’ll find them splashed across glossy magazines or blogged about incessantly by the cool kids. But if you don’t mind they play between the dark and dusty, the play between the gloomy and glittery, San Francisco’s Empty Rooms will sound spectacular in that space between your ears.
Colour Revolt are from Oxford, and though you might think from the way they’ve decided to spell that we’re talking about the Anglo-universal seat of education in Jolly Old, we’re actually talking about the other Old Oxford, as in “Ole” Oxford, as in Ole Miss. At first pass you might not hear the Deep South in the very fuzzy guitarry sound, which actually reminds me more of Girls Against Boys and Helmet than anything to come out of the southland of late. But listen to the lyrics and you’ll get a good dose of God. And, as we all know, there ain’t no God party like a Southern God party ‘coz a Southern God party got eternal damnation. Heyyyy. Hoooo.
“I can always tell when you’ve been a’drinkin'” — and so, Hayshaker had me from the first line of “Laurie’s Song.” Also known as the Rider family from Waycross, GA (along with a few friends), Hayshaker makes that boozy country rock you like to listen to when you’re totally supposed to be doing something else. Their recent EP, Black Holiday in Mexico City, offers up half a dozen and one tracks reflecting a variety of musical influences while firmly anchored in the twang of C.C. and Laurie Rider. “I can always tell when you’ve found trouble, ’cause soon that trouble comes to find me.” Yep, time to get back to work.
Looks like I’m just in time to have missed the press onslaught, CD release, and U.S. tour (with The Locust) of San Diego’s Sleeping People. I missed their release show at the Belly Up with Pinback (Kenseth, their newest member, also plays in 
I’ve been digging through the mail and scouring the net for two hours searching for that something something that will hit the spot. Figurines do the trick. The band’s last album Skeletons recently made it back into heavy rotation here at 3hive’s Southern California HQ, the wood/cork paneled office in my ’70s suburban tract home, so I figured I’d do some nop-notch investigative work on the band’s current status. I struck gold: two new tracks from their forthcoming LP, When the Deer Wore Blue, plus the video for another. At first I was let down by the songs’ slower tempo, but only for a listen or two. The slower the tempo the more they channel a lovely, laid-back Beach Boys vibe (“The Air We Breathe”). The band’s U.S. label, The Control Group, already has the album up for sale, but it won’t be out in their hometown until next month. I’m kicking myself for missing them in L.A. back in October. This calls for an exception to my no-mailing-lists-because-I-don’t-need-the-extra-emails-rule. Sign me up boys!