Chicago natives Deeper are a patient and dedicated bunch. They spent almost two years holed up in their practice space, crafting their self-titled debut with friend and engineer Dave Vettraino, who has worked with Melkbelly and Damien Jurado. The result is a jangly post-punk treasure, shimmery gold and all. Nic Gohl’s lyrics hit on existential quandaries and pushing to get more out of life. Gohl’s smooth yet commanding voice hovers over his and Mike Clawson’s tangle of erratic, slippery guitars. Drew McBride’s bass playing supports the mass of shine and noise as Shiraz Bhatti’s percussive stylings hop along with the group, keeping everyone’s ducks in a row.
AdHoc recently caught up with Deeper to discuss their inspirations, their favorite Chicago digs, and tracking food deliveries. Grab a copy of Deeper via Fire Talk Records.
What’s your practice space like?
Nic Gohl: It’s an old Frank Lloyd Wright building. But it looks like something out of Hostel or one of the Saw movies. So, not very pretty.
Drew McBride: I think it used to be a Polish sausage factory. You can Google it. E-Z Polish Sausage.
Your self-titled debut is coming out in May on Fire Talk Records. Can you tell me a bit about the album?
Nic: The album is a collection of songs from the past 2 or so years that we slowly recorded in our practice space with our old friend and longtime collaborator, Dave.
Drew: He’s like one of our best friends. He’s a collaborator, he’s my roommate...
Nic: Mostly his roommate [laughs]. Dave Vettraino.
Drew: But yea, he’s also recorded some other Chicago bands like Melkbelly who’s playing Pitchfork this year. In my opinion the record has like some pretty diverse sounds just as a result of us all learning how to play together over that time.
Shiraz Bhatti: We actually did “Pink Showers” and our first single that we dropped in 2016, “Transmogrified,” in Dave’s basement. Then we decided to demo out the record in our practice space, and we were really surprised at how things worked out, so we spent the next year and a half taking weekends here and there to finish it off.
I first encountered Naked Giants two years ago. The raucous Seattle trio came through my hometown on a break from tour, and ended up opening a show at the local watering hole. I showed up at the request of a mutual friend and — let me tell you — I was absolutely stuck on Grant Mullen’s energy as he slammed the pick into his guitar strings and whipped his head around. Gianni Aiello’s lanky figure towered over the crowd as he played bass and lifted his legs like he was marching. And Henry Lavallee’s drum playing was absolutely spot-on, a big grin on his face the whole time.
Recently, AdHoc gave Naked Giants a ring during a few days off from their tour supporting — and playing as the backing band for — Car Seat Headrest. We spoke about cheesy van jams and Vitamin RBY. Make sure to see them at Alphaville on May 10, and be sure to grab their latest, Sluff, over at New West Records.
Can you tell me a bit about your new album, SLUFF?
Grant Mullen: We took “Easy Eating” from [our EP] RIP. The rest of the songs were just collected when we started working with a label. We sent them all of our demos and stuff. We had an idea of what the track listing would be and then we just negotiated and compromised with them and found what we thought would be a good album.
Gianni Aiello: As far as context or meaning of the album, as Grant said, they are all just songs that we’ve been playing or writing over the last couple years. I feel like this album is kind of more just us learning how to put an album together more than anything else. It’s not like we were going in with any sort of mission; we were just kind of throwing the songs down because that’s what time required of us.
Grant: We wanted to make a pop album. That’s also part of it. We were like, let’s make this first one appeal to the masses as much as possible. So we were down with that and then we were able to just let it happen and take input from the label because we figured they knew what kind of songs would [work].
In her early twenties, Allie Hanlon relocated from her hometown of Ottawa, Canada to Los Angeles. She describes the move as “being thrown into a big, busy place”; getting to know a new city was exciting, but she was still apprehensive about leaving everything she knew behind. Growing up in Ottawa, she’d been surrounded by people she knew; in Los Angeles, she felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness.
Through that time of transition, one constant was Peach Kelli Pop, a pop project she’d begun in her bedroom in Ottawa. Over time and across borders, the project has evolved from a solo endeavor into a full-fledged rock band. The band’s new EP, Which Witch, is a departure from the upbeat, bright punk sound of previous releases, as it takes a more melancholy turn.
AdHoc: You started Peach Kelli Pop band in 2009 as more of a bedroom pop project. How has the project evolved?
Allie Hanlon: Peach Kelli Pop has changed in a lot of different ways. It’s been nine years now since I started the project. In that time, I had to learn how to essentially play with a full band. On top of writing songs, and then learning different instruments, I had to teach these songs to whoever I was playing with. That really changed everything—it definitely became a bigger, more complicated venture.
Also, in the time since I started the band, I immigrated to the US from Canada. That really changed things, because I was in a new place where I didn’t know that many people. I had to get out there and make new friends and collaborate with people. I’m not really an extrovert, so it was out of my comfort zone. I think when you have a solo project and you don’t play shows, it’s really easy. But when you start to perform, and you have to train people, it becomes almost like a full-time job. It’s definitely taught me a lot of skills: social skills, and also teaching skills, which I didn’t realize was something I’d be learning. It’s been really cool, and I’ve learned a lot from it.
I read that the song “Los Angeles” is about your move from Canada to Los Angeles. What was that like for you?
I was born and raised in Ottawa. It’s a really amazing city. I was with my family, who are awesome, and the people I grew up with, who were my best friends and who knew me really well. And that’s something that I definitely took for granted, because I had never experienced anything else.
When I was in my early 20s, I was really eager to move, to try new things, to see the world and to be on my own. And I got to do that. When I moved, I was thrown into this big, busy place. It was really exhilarating, [but] after a few years, I realized that having a support system is really helpful. And I didn’t really have that [in LA]. While I do have close friends, it’s not really the same as your family or friends that have known you since you were a little kid, you know? Even though I’ve been here for five years now, I still feel kind of new. When you’re in a place like LA, you can feel isolated to the point of being unable to tap into the abundance of opportunities that a place like LA has to offer.
In Ottawa, there aren’t the same kind of opportunities. In LA, you can make a living off of music and art, which is really cool. But it’s not as easy when you don’t have a support system. But, you know, I think lots of people in LA aren’t from here. So I’m sure I’m not the only person who feels like that.
In an age when the news cycle seems endless and dreary, it’s almost impossible to relax. Queens-via-Buenos Aires musician Tall Juan’s track “Kaya,” off of 2017’s Olden Goldies, is a hazy ode to toking up. It's also a cover of Argentine post-punk band Sumo. Over echoing guitar, frontman Juan Zaballa sings about experiencing feelings of anger and regret — until he “smoked a little Kaya,” that is. With reverb-heavy vocals and instrumentation, the song gives off a dreamlike quality. In the new video for the track, Zaballa nervously watches the news. In an effort to cheer himself up, he smokes a joint and is subsequently enveloped in a thick cloud of smoke as a mysterious blonde woman appears with a tray of donuts. The surreal video ends when the woman takes a hit, and begins to stuff donuts into Zaballa’s mouth.
Zaballa tells AdHoc that while arranging his cover of Sumo's “Kaya," he “took one line and repeated it twice.” He says that there are many ways to interpret the lyrics, and that there’s not a single, specific meaning he wants listeners to take away. Watch the video below, and catch Tall Juan with Mysterly Lights and Future Punx at Market Hotel (appropriately) on April 20.
Open collaboration between four members can be difficult to cultivate, but Bad Moves make it look effortless. Featuring members of The Max Levine Ensemble, Hemlines, Art Sorority for Girls, and Booby Trap, Bad Moves is a DC indie punk/power-pop powerhouse. All of its members contribute equally to songwriting duties, making tunes that are more than the sum of their parts. “One of the founding tenets of this band was to compose, arrange and perform such that it’s not clear who wrote what, and at times it’s not even clear who’s singing what,” says drummer and songwriter Daoud Tyler-Ameen, also of Art Sorority. Their latest single, "One Thing,” which we're debuting below, is exemplary of this doctrine: vocals from all members are delicately layered, their owners made an ambiguous part of the whole. While collaborative songwriting isn’t exactly a new concept, Bad Moves’ approach is fresh and purposeful. Catch them tonight at Warsaw with Jeff Rosenstock and Martha.
The songs of Philly-based foursome Palm rarely end where they begin, taking on tricky time signatures and hairpin melodic turns without sacrificing hooks and songcraft. Their lyrics can be similarly hard to follow: the group’s dual vocalists embrace abstraction, with heavy vocal filters and inventive word games. Still, they get an awful lot across while saying very little—especially during their live sets, which can resemble a performed conversation in a private alien language.
Rock Island, their brightly lit sophomore full-length for Carpark Records, feels like a slight change of pace for the group; with Palm’s introduction of MIDI sampling and other electronic manipulations, it can sound at times like straight-up dance music. In advance of their record release show at Market Hotel on February 9, we chatted with guitarist and singer Kasra Kurt about the band’s ever-growing musical dexterity.
AdHoc: Palm spent time in New York before moving to Philly. How would you describe the difference between the music scenes there?
Kasra Kurt: Well, Palm has actually never been based in NYC. [Drummer] Hugo [Stanley] and [guitarist and vocalist] Eve [Alpert] have lived there in the past, but the “New York” in palmnewyork.bandcamp.com or firstname.lastname@example.org refers to the Hudson Valley, three hours north of the city, which is where we went to school and where we started playing together. I might be wrong, but I think we used New York in the Bandcamp link in the hopes that people would book us there...intentionally vague. It’s hard to stress how influential the scene upstate was on all of us. Bard had a really strong community of bold and adventurous musicians and artists. I’d go to a lot of shows, and my entire conception of music was being challenged all the time. I think it instilled in all of us a particular creative mentality, where nothing was off limits.
After college, we moved a little further upstate and spent a couple years writing and developing together. We started touring a little, but it was mostly an opportunity to retreat and figure out what we wanted to do.
Philadelphia is different. It’s a big city, for one, so it was something of a transition from country living. There’s so much happening—I highly recommend checking out Ada Babar and Old Maybe, for starters—and [so many] cool spots to play. To me, at least, it doesn’t feel competitive at all; people are supportive. Honestly, I don’t feel super comfortable talking about the Philly scene, because we’ve only been here a couple years and we’re away on tour so much of the time. But we love it here, and we feel really lucky to be a small part of the scene.
Ancient Ocean's music swells with gravity and delicacy, pummeling with subtlety. His upcoming release, Titan's Island, invokes the sublime vastness of the cosmic across its intimately otherworldly four tracks. It makes for gorgeous listening just as calming in the background as affecting in the foreground. The project's mastermind, J.R. Bohannon, spoke with AdHoc about composition and spaces, both familiar and extraterrestrial.
Let’s talk about your approach to composition. Do you start with a concept and build a sound and atmosphere around it? The opposite? Somewhere in between?
It generally changes. With this record, I actually spent a lot of time taking out layers from the compositions to open up the overall landscape. I spend a lot of time just tracking ideas and, over time, a complete vision starts to reveal itself—and thats what seems to make up a full album.
Repent and confess, sinners who dare enter the world of Ronnie Stone & the Lonely Riders. It's a bold opening sentence, sure, but it feels appopriate for the subject matter at hand. No emerging Brooklyn act has accumulated the obscene levels of feverish admiration and unwavering intrigue that Ronnie Stone & the Lonely Riders has. To put this in the most simplistic terms imaginable: no one's operating on their level. They're a band that claims to have transcended time-- futuristic beings with their roots planted firmly in the past. Everyone plays a part and commits to it without hesitation, band and audience alike; the dress code for their upcoming show permits the following items: "...leather.lace.lashes..., 1820's goth/2060's cybergoth, ,,,black.boysenberry.bloodred..., ...And when in doubt wear all black."
At some point, the music becomes a minor fraction of the experience-- but the music's strong enough to draw people into the group's leather-clad world. Convincing world-building, as any writer of a television show can tell you, is an intensely difficult task to pull off; however, Ronnie Stone & The Lonely Riders have earned the admiration of many by doing it with aplomb. To heighten the sense of mystery, they've managed to achieve this in relative secrecy, only occasionally coming out of their hive to reveal their works to the public. When those events happen, there's a strict set of rules that the audience members are encouraged to follow that tend to fit thematically with what the band has in store for the evening. On Saturday, the band will once again strike up another gathering and unveil their songs as part of an inspired rollout campaign for their forthcoming Motorcycle Yearbook, which is destined to be one of the most-discussed records to come out of Brooklyn in 2015.
AdHoc recently jumped at the chance to pry as much information as I could out of the band's enigmatic leader, Ronnie Stone, and was met with a series of cryptic answers that seemed carefully designed to reveal as much as possible about the world the band inhabits through a winking subtext rather than a surface statement. Everything the band's done up to this point has operated along the same lines, leaving a breadcrumb trail in the hopes that people follow it to their surreal temple. It's not just Stone in this mode, either. When I asked the band's manager for a list of The Lonely Riders I was granted the following information: Ronnie Stone & The Lonely Riders are a boogie-funk supergroup from the future. The members consist of Ronnie Stone (shoulder synth), Emerson Steele (drumset), Rocko Grande (guitar), CJ Sweetie (synthesizer), and Johnson Gauge (synth-bass).
Over the past few weeks, I've had a few opportunities to speak directly with the veiled figure; but for this particular interview, the veil was strengthened through a faceless correspondence that allowed Stone to articulate his responses in a manner that felt consistent with what the band hopes will be a truly immersive experience. Stone at one point brings up Giorgio, who is a keeper of secrets for the band and exists primarily in the shadows, who delivers answers with an even greater cryptic flair than the project's mastermind. They're a deceptively literate band, forcing the people they've attracted to their world to read into just about everything for greater meaning if they choose to follow that route. For others, it's merely enough to relax and enjoy the hyper-realized ride.
Below is a transcription of a Q&A where no true names are revealed, the real driving motives behind Ronnie Stone & The Lonely Riders' mission is provided via hints, and all of the answers are coded. The real question is whether or not seeking for their layered meanings is really an answer at all. Dive into the world of Ronnie Stone & The Lonely riders by coming out to Aviv for Ronnie Stone & The Lonely Riders: The Confession on Saturday, July 18. Make sure to come prepared. Get into the forthcoming show's spirit by reading some of Ronnie Stone's confessions below.
Matana Roberts' artistic practice exists at the intersection of various established traditions without expressing slavish devotion to any particular musical lineage. She plays saxophone and has been classified as a jazz artist, but she is also signed to Montreal-based Constellation Records; a label renowned for their association with post-rock juggernaut Godspeed! You Black Emperor, but increasingly a haven for uncompromising artist-driven projects whose only stylistic affinity is a relentless desire to push the boundaries of genre. She is a Chicago native, cutting her teeth in that city’s illustrious improvisation scene, and although she has called New York City home for over a decade, she shies away from the endless self-promotion that many of the city’s creative types use for their careers. Roberts maybe an avid Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr user, but she resides on a boat in Sheepshead Bay, far away from the more happening enclaves of Manhattan and North Brooklyn. Following the release of COIN COIN Chapter Two: Mississippi Moonchile in 2013, Matana's career entered a new phase of visibility and cultural impact in 2014, when she received the Herb Alpert Award and the Doris Duke Impact Award.
The stage was set for Robert’s most ambitious COIN COIN release to date, COIN COIN Chapter Three: river run thee is the latest installment of a twelve-part series, and the first solo chapter after two previous ensemble-based chapters. The conceptual background of river run thee incorporates a sojourn through the American South, the discovery of a 200-year-old ship captain’s diary, and seamlessely layered graphic scores, spoken word and live overdubs. In the hands of a lesser artist, these disparate elements might result in a confounding cacophony or simply a well-intentioned but over-ambitious "difficult album," but Roberts grounds river run thee in the human and the narrative, weaving her voice and a variety of melodies through the "panoramic sound quilting" that distinguishes her work. river run thee is another work of visceral sonic power and staggering depth from one of the continent’s most profound experimentalists (her term). AdHoc spoke with Matana by telephone while she endured a typically frigid January afternoon on her boat.
COIN COIN Chapter Three: river run thee is released Tuesday, February 3 on Constellation Records. Matana Roberts will play a record release show at Union Pool with Rain Machine and Ryan Sawyer/Nate Wooley/C.Spencer Yeh trio that night.
How did you end up living on a boat in Brooklyn?
I moved here in October. I spend a lot of time on the waterways, away from music. I kayak and surf and learned how to paddleboard through some free programming that happens on the Hudson. I got really into the water community in New York City, and you get into this thing where you start geeking out about water craft. I woke up one day last year and I was like “OK, I wanna get my Skipper’s License,” not knowing that many months later I would move onto a boat. There’s a boatel community in Queens, and I was curious what people were doing out there. One late night I just decided to look for a boat for rent. I’ve always wanted to live on a boat and it just so happened this whole last year I’ve been spending dealing with this Ship Captain’s diary and getting better at being out on the water myself. Being a New Yorker, it’s just hard to do stuff. So I thought living on the boat would also give me a chance to combine some things that I’m really into, and live in a way that is more reflective of my core values of caring about the environment and looking at the direct impact that I have as a human.
I’ve always tried to live in a way so that I go toward the things that happen, not navigate them.. When I started working on this record I had no idea that it would end with me being finished with the record and then a month later moving on to a boat. I couldn’t plan that if I tried!
I was living in Harlem and it was not a very positive space and I had to get going. Originally I was looking into the Rockaways but I’m still in Brooklyn. I’m in Sheepshead Bay, on the bottom [of the borough]! It’s far, but Brooklyn is so popular now and I wanted to get an experience of what Old Brooklyn is like. I love it, but I also feel like I'm in a foreign country because it’s a cinematic version of a Brooklyn I’ve never known. There are just so many things that I’m learning every day about this city that I thought I knew that I didn’t know.