New Old Skull (all ex Live Skull), White Hills, EXCOP (Cop Shoot Cop/Swans), Nowhere Near (Bob Bert/Sonic Youth, Martin Bisi), Tidal Channel

BC35 record release show: 35th anniversary of BC Studio

New Old Skull (all ex Live Skull)

White Hills

EXCOP (Cop Shoot Cop/Swans)

Nowhere Near (Bob Bert/Sonic Youth, Martin Bisi)

Tidal Channel

Friday, April 20, 2018

7:00 pm

Saint Vitus

$12.00 - $15.00

Tickets at the Door

This event is 21 and over

New Old Skull (all ex Live Skull)
New Old Skull (all ex Live Skull)
Formed in 1982 by guitarists Mark C and Tom Paine with Marnie Greenholz on bass and James Lo on drums, Live Skull is considered by many aficionados to be the quintessential New York noise band. Together with Sonic Youth and Swans, Live Skull defined the term "noise rock" in the 1980s, spearheading the post-No Wave underground music scene in NYC with a series of legendary live performances and eight groundbreaking records released over the course of that decade. Often brutal and yet strangely seductive, each of these classic records creates hooks out of the most unlikely, seemingly disruptive elements, subverting traditional rock forms in previously unheard ways that became an undeniable (albeit often unacknowledged) influence on many of their contemporaries. Live Skull broke up in 1989, just within sight of that magical moment when the sort of music they pioneered began to finally break through, but the band's recorded output reminds us that Live Skull got there first.

In his much-quoted review for The New York Times, Robert Palmer declared, "With each new record, New York's Live Skull delivers a more concentrated brand of emotional intensity, a more ferociously disciplined sonic assault. Live Skull's music – a high-wire act played for keeps, without a net – is as challenging, as spiritually corrosive, and ultimately as transcendent as Albert Ayler's mid-60's free jazz or the implacable drone-dance of the early Velvet Underground. It's one of the essential sounds of our time." And, writing for New Look magazine, Robert Palmer famously declared: “The most startlingly original array of guitar sounds and approaches since Jimi Hendrix. They make guitars do things you’ve never imagined."
White Hills
White Hills
Long after man has ceased to exist; long after the mountains have fallen into the sea; long after the oceans have boiled dry; long after the sun has burst and evaporated planet Earth - humankind's mark on the universe will still be felt. There will be a circular ripple of radio waves created during the 20th and 21st Centuries traveling ever outwards into the cosmos for all eternity, as if caused by a tiny pebble dropped into a perfectly still pond. And this thin, elegant wave will contain the only remnants of what we were. In it will be all of our films, radio, television, electronic communications and internet activity. It will contain all of our art, history, news and entertainment, in all of its stupidity, glory, inconsequentiality and brilliance, heading outwards across the void to the ends of time itself.

And riding this wave, out past the Shoulder of Orion, through the Tannhauser Gate, way out into the Hubble deep field will be the brightest of pulses of information encoded into peaks and troughs. And when this pulse reaches out where evolution itself has evolved into something new, it will hit the equivalent of a being, who will turn to the equivalent of a friend and use its equivalent to a mouth to say the equivalent of: "Dude…. Seriously… Dude… Did you just hear that?"

Because New York space rock trio White Hills are the opposite of a comet. They suck up an explosion of energy on the surface of the Earth; from the history of amplified rock music, from the weather, from spirituality, from adrenaline, from the history of synthesized electronic music, from substance use, from philosophy, from friends and enemies alike, from mother fucking electricity, and they focus it into a blinding beam of energy which they reflect back out into the void. And this beam is a message. It is a statement which reads: "Fuck you. We are here. We rock, therefore we are."

August sees the release of their seventh full-length studio album, which is entitled So You Are… So You'll Be. Featuring Dave W on guitars, synthesizer and vocals, Ego Sensation on bass, synthesizer and vocals, and Nick Name on drums, this is their most concentrated blast of psychedelic interstellar rock to date. The band also appears in Jim Jarmusch's upcoming film Only Lovers Left Alive, which premiered at Cannes earlier this year, alongside Tilda Swinton, Mia Wasikowska, and John Hurt.

The LP is a blazing totem of rock & roll empowerment and will to power achievement, as if overseen by the spirit of Nietzsche wearing leather trousers, mirror shades, a well fitted Cuban
shirt and wielding a Flying V. Building on the solid foundations laid by last year's excellent Frying On This Rock, they went back to BC Studios, Brooklyn to record once more with Martin
Bisi. This time they could easily have released a great triple album but felt that they would sooner abandon most of the material in order to get the most concentrated blast of White Hills at their fullest potential possible onto one disc.

After the deconditioning and deprogramming blast of electronic noise which is 'InWords,' the album opens properly with the call to arms, 'In Your Room' – a skyscraper razing slab of Mudhoney strength mantra metal, which bids you abandon all doubt and fear so you can start your quest into inner space. For tuned in, turned on heads there is 'The Internal Monologue', an ecstatic shivering sliver of celestial acidic drone followed by the post-Hawkwind, post Loop transmission of 'So You Are… So You'll Be'. There is more computerised deprogramming via 'OutWords' before White Hills command that you cower before the altar of the Stoogian protoriff, the holy Ur-riff, the mind warping, silver machine-tooled hyper riff, that is 'Forever In Space (Enlightened)'. But after this cataclysmic shock, there is barely time to process what just happened before you are lowered into the howling lysergic swamp rock of 'Rare Upon The Earth' with only the echoing synthesized landscape of
'Circulating' offering some respite. The album builds effortlessly to the sumptuous 'MIST (Winter)' which features a John Carpenter synth line engine inserted into glistening La Dusseldorf chassis, forming some kind of god-like chariot.

In their eight-year history that has seen the release of seven studio albums and countless collaborations, split albums, EPs, live CDs, tour only singles, 7"s, limited edition CDrs and other spin offs, this is White Hills' finest achievement to date… and
that's saying something. But this in turn says something about Dave W's need to keep on bettering what he has already achieved. He certainly answered his calling - to boldly lead the faithful into the furthest and most uncharted reaches of cosmic rock.

Since then they have gone on to set the international gold standard in what it means to be a space rock band in the 21st Century. But perhaps it's best to let Dave himself explain what space rock actually means to him: "Heavy psychedelic music can deliver the thinking mind through a door to the greater universe. I want people to find a space for meditation. We all are constantly barraged and beaten down with a lot of bullshit today. Personally, I find that spacedout extreme music transports me to a very tranquil place. I hope, more than anything, our music brings others to that place of enlightenment and ecstasy."

Far in baby. Far in.

-John Doran, May 2013.
EXCOP (Cop Shoot Cop/Swans)
Jim Coleman (Cop Shoot Cop), Jack Nantz (Cop Shoot Cop), Algis Kizys (Swans), Phil Puleo (Cop Shoot Cop and Swans)
Nowhere Near (Bob Bert/Sonic Youth, Martin Bisi)
Bob Bert (Sonic Youth, Pussy Galore, Lydia Lunch), Ivan Lipp (Pop 1280), Alyse Lamb (Parlor Walls, Gold Dime), Martin Bisi, Skeleton Boy (Art Gray Noizz Quintet),
Tidal Channel
Venue Information:
Saint Vitus
1120 Manhattan Avenue
Brooklyn, NY, 11222
http://www.saintvitusbar.com/