Moheak Radio presents
The Henry Clay People
Jail Weddings, Sanglorians
Sat, August 18, 2012
Doors: 8:00 pm / Show: 9:00 pm
Bootleg Bar
$10.00 - $12.00
Tickets
This event is 21 and over
http://www.foldsilverlake.com/event/137473/
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The Henry Clay People - (Set time: 11:00 PM)
Twenty-Five for the Rest of Our Lives is the sound of a band righting its ship. In the space between the album's opening line: "I don't want to turn twenty for the rest of our lives," and its closing: "I was learning not to give a shit, not that it ever made a difference," the Henry Clay People claw through thirty minutes of teenage restlessness, quarter-life malaise, and adult resignation. And in doing so craft their most bitter, bratty, and melancholic record to date. In short, this is the sound of the Henry Clay People finding their true north after several years at sea.
"We wanted to finally make the record that our sixteen year old selves would have been excited about. Unfortunately the only way to do so was to live for the last 13 years and get some adult suffering under our belt. Now we can direct our misguided teenage angst at our failed 20s."
Returning to their original lineup, the LP finds the Los Angeles quartet ditching the celebratory drunken honky-tonk anthems of 2010's Somewhere On The Golden Coast in favor of the punk rock that inspired them to pick up their instruments in the first place. Gone are the grand platitudes of Coast, and in its stead is the sound of a band both rediscovering and redefining it roots.
At its core the Henry Clay People have been, and remain, brothers Joey and Andy Siara. And like many a sibling band before them it's this brotherly, and at times caustic, dynamic that stokes the Henry Clay fire. Sharing singing/songwriting duties with returning member Noah Green, Twenty-Five is record dealing with compromised dreams, cheap fixes, chronic pain, bitter breakups, and empty bank accounts. These are tales of a generation born of means but somewhere in between.
Framed by found audio of their Siara's grandfather (who had recorded his memoirs into a handheld diction machine), the album's tales of a generation born of means but somewhere in between are only compounded.
Musically this is a band that exists in a similar netherworld. Too old and square for the neon sax and synth laden hipsters and too young to have seen Fugazi, Built To Spill and Dinosaur Jr. the first few times around.
But it's here that they find themselves, existing and thriving between a nostalgia for Marsh/Mascis sized guitar slack and a sweaty all-ages-ADHD delivery. On Twenty-Five they lovingly squirm like a geeky suburban skater brat covering up the Weezer sticker on his skateboard for an SST. This is a record for and by the high school Descendents devotee turned college Malkmus-minion - the Mats fan that loves his Dookie.
Twenty-Five for the Rest of Our Lives is The Henry Clay People's fourth full-length and their second on TBD Records. They have opened for Drive By Truckers, Silversun Pickups, The Get Up Kids, Mission of Burma, Against Me!, Deer Tick, Metric, Matt & Kim, Mike Watt, and many others. They've also gigged at Coachella, Lollapalooza, Austin City Limits, Sasquatch, and too many SXSW parties to remember.
"We wanted to finally make the record that our sixteen year old selves would have been excited about. Unfortunately the only way to do so was to live for the last 13 years and get some adult suffering under our belt. Now we can direct our misguided teenage angst at our failed 20s."
Returning to their original lineup, the LP finds the Los Angeles quartet ditching the celebratory drunken honky-tonk anthems of 2010's Somewhere On The Golden Coast in favor of the punk rock that inspired them to pick up their instruments in the first place. Gone are the grand platitudes of Coast, and in its stead is the sound of a band both rediscovering and redefining it roots.
At its core the Henry Clay People have been, and remain, brothers Joey and Andy Siara. And like many a sibling band before them it's this brotherly, and at times caustic, dynamic that stokes the Henry Clay fire. Sharing singing/songwriting duties with returning member Noah Green, Twenty-Five is record dealing with compromised dreams, cheap fixes, chronic pain, bitter breakups, and empty bank accounts. These are tales of a generation born of means but somewhere in between.
Framed by found audio of their Siara's grandfather (who had recorded his memoirs into a handheld diction machine), the album's tales of a generation born of means but somewhere in between are only compounded.
Musically this is a band that exists in a similar netherworld. Too old and square for the neon sax and synth laden hipsters and too young to have seen Fugazi, Built To Spill and Dinosaur Jr. the first few times around.
But it's here that they find themselves, existing and thriving between a nostalgia for Marsh/Mascis sized guitar slack and a sweaty all-ages-ADHD delivery. On Twenty-Five they lovingly squirm like a geeky suburban skater brat covering up the Weezer sticker on his skateboard for an SST. This is a record for and by the high school Descendents devotee turned college Malkmus-minion - the Mats fan that loves his Dookie.
Twenty-Five for the Rest of Our Lives is The Henry Clay People's fourth full-length and their second on TBD Records. They have opened for Drive By Truckers, Silversun Pickups, The Get Up Kids, Mission of Burma, Against Me!, Deer Tick, Metric, Matt & Kim, Mike Watt, and many others. They've also gigged at Coachella, Lollapalooza, Austin City Limits, Sasquatch, and too many SXSW parties to remember.
Jail Weddings - (Set time: 10:00 PM)
If they aren’t L.A.’s biggest band, Jail Weddings definitely
have L.A.’s biggest sound—an nine-person-deep rock ‘n’ soul
revue that feels like the Pogues as produced by Phil Spector, a
soundtrack to a Hollywood-gone-Babylon left unloved and
unexplored since the last notes of X’ Los Angeles LP. Their
2010 full-length Love Is Lawless was gigantic, the kind of
thing that should be a film (directed by Billy Wilder) but
becomes an album instead. L.A. Weeklycorrectly called it “a
big, fine mess of weepy, quavering, hiccupy hurtin’ hurt,
plowed through with a way-tough punk rock theatricality and
welcome good humor,” and a lovestruck reporter for Seattle’s
Stranger reported that “Jail Weddings songs sound the way
the band looks: huge, soulful, and swaggering, taut and
unpredictable as a cat.”
Now Jail Weddings return with a leaner line-up and a new EP
called Four Future Standards, releasing on the formidable new
Neurotic Yell label. Recorded through the fall and winter of
2011-2012 by Mark Rains (Black Rebel Motorcycle Club,
Waylon Jennings), Four Future Standards reinforces
frontman-architect-drill sergeant-and-mad-genius (oh, and
singer) Gabriel Hart and his returning core members Jada
Wagensomer (vocals), Hannah Blumenfeld (violin) and Josh
Puklavetz (bass) with drums by Mike Shelbourn, keys by L.A.
stalwart Marty Sataman and guitar by Chris Rager. And
Standards also sees the welcome debut of a full Stax-style
backline with sequin-clad singers Mary Animaux (White
Murder) and Kristina Benson (Red Onions, Flash Express.)
“I wanted to start a band that blurred the lines of fantasy and
reality, that collectively lived the lyrics, a band that would end
up being a lifestyle all its own and turn the lives of the
members into a goddamn musical, even if we were the only
ones that knew it,” says Hart. And this time, the songs (in a
way) are all love songs, he explains—the raging Scott
Walker-meets-Ziggy Stardust cabaret rocker “Overnight,” or
the collision of Gun Club guitar and Shangri-Las melodrama
that lets “Good Book” make death into the break-up to end all
bitter break-ups, or the punked-up Del Shannon-style story
of regret and revelation in “Red Light Rhythm.” Or especially
“(There’s Nothing Worse In The World Than A) Crying Girl,”
an unflinching last-call operetta that could have been written
by Warren Zevon, produced by Nick Cave and recorded by
Roy Orbison … but only after a bleary night playing Iggy Pop’s
“Turn Blue” until the needle gave out in a wisp of smoke. In
these four songs are love as sickness, love as delusion, love as
warning, love as righted wrong or wronged right—even love
as total helplessness before impending doom, as seen through
the lens of an upturned bottle.
There’s an arc to this whole story you may recognize—first
Love Is Lawless’ glorious full-bore exhilaration and now Four
Future Standards’ collision between hope and hopelessness,
and next of course comes the comedown, with a schedule
album tentatively titled Meltdown that Hart says is the most
doomed-feeling album his band has ever made. (“Anyone that
thought we were a party band will be greatly mistaken after
hearing it,” he warns.) But that’s not something to worry
about now—Four Future Standards is a set of songs for the
time between midnight and six, when it feels like you could
close the door and make the night last forever.
have L.A.’s biggest sound—an nine-person-deep rock ‘n’ soul
revue that feels like the Pogues as produced by Phil Spector, a
soundtrack to a Hollywood-gone-Babylon left unloved and
unexplored since the last notes of X’ Los Angeles LP. Their
2010 full-length Love Is Lawless was gigantic, the kind of
thing that should be a film (directed by Billy Wilder) but
becomes an album instead. L.A. Weeklycorrectly called it “a
big, fine mess of weepy, quavering, hiccupy hurtin’ hurt,
plowed through with a way-tough punk rock theatricality and
welcome good humor,” and a lovestruck reporter for Seattle’s
Stranger reported that “Jail Weddings songs sound the way
the band looks: huge, soulful, and swaggering, taut and
unpredictable as a cat.”
Now Jail Weddings return with a leaner line-up and a new EP
called Four Future Standards, releasing on the formidable new
Neurotic Yell label. Recorded through the fall and winter of
2011-2012 by Mark Rains (Black Rebel Motorcycle Club,
Waylon Jennings), Four Future Standards reinforces
frontman-architect-drill sergeant-and-mad-genius (oh, and
singer) Gabriel Hart and his returning core members Jada
Wagensomer (vocals), Hannah Blumenfeld (violin) and Josh
Puklavetz (bass) with drums by Mike Shelbourn, keys by L.A.
stalwart Marty Sataman and guitar by Chris Rager. And
Standards also sees the welcome debut of a full Stax-style
backline with sequin-clad singers Mary Animaux (White
Murder) and Kristina Benson (Red Onions, Flash Express.)
“I wanted to start a band that blurred the lines of fantasy and
reality, that collectively lived the lyrics, a band that would end
up being a lifestyle all its own and turn the lives of the
members into a goddamn musical, even if we were the only
ones that knew it,” says Hart. And this time, the songs (in a
way) are all love songs, he explains—the raging Scott
Walker-meets-Ziggy Stardust cabaret rocker “Overnight,” or
the collision of Gun Club guitar and Shangri-Las melodrama
that lets “Good Book” make death into the break-up to end all
bitter break-ups, or the punked-up Del Shannon-style story
of regret and revelation in “Red Light Rhythm.” Or especially
“(There’s Nothing Worse In The World Than A) Crying Girl,”
an unflinching last-call operetta that could have been written
by Warren Zevon, produced by Nick Cave and recorded by
Roy Orbison … but only after a bleary night playing Iggy Pop’s
“Turn Blue” until the needle gave out in a wisp of smoke. In
these four songs are love as sickness, love as delusion, love as
warning, love as righted wrong or wronged right—even love
as total helplessness before impending doom, as seen through
the lens of an upturned bottle.
There’s an arc to this whole story you may recognize—first
Love Is Lawless’ glorious full-bore exhilaration and now Four
Future Standards’ collision between hope and hopelessness,
and next of course comes the comedown, with a schedule
album tentatively titled Meltdown that Hart says is the most
doomed-feeling album his band has ever made. (“Anyone that
thought we were a party band will be greatly mistaken after
hearing it,” he warns.) But that’s not something to worry
about now—Four Future Standards is a set of songs for the
time between midnight and six, when it feels like you could
close the door and make the night last forever.
Sanglorians - (Set time: 9:00 PM)
A new hard rock ensemble that is at once deft and mighty, Sanglorians are an harmonic exercise in presence; a lucid lyrical dialogue with past and future lives; an hermetic experiment with melodic roots in the dreamtime. Initially manifesting last December here in the City of Angels, Sanglorians is the given name of a new musical family born when songwriter Daniel Brummel made the timely decision to come out of an extended monastic hibernation and bring it all back home. An L.A. indie rock vet whose credentials include a dark solo folk record, a degree in music theory, and the legendary projects Ozma, Spain, Bad Dudes, and Monstro, Mr. Brummel held out on us for more than a decade with this backlog of songs. But it was worth the wait: Sanglorians forthcoming debut album is an unconventional manifesto of love and forgiveness, a deeply personal collection which paints a vivid picture of the individual constellation seeking to tap the collective unconscious, live in synchronicity, and embrace the transpersonal impulse. Sanglorians six-member roster includes bassist Jeremy Keeler (Get Set Go), drummer Matt Mayhall (Miranda Lee Richards, Lenka), Ihui Wu (Robotanists), Morgan Paros (Sandbox), and guitarist Jonathan Gomez.
