Force Field PR & Terrorbird Media SXSW ‘09 Blowout!
Weds. March 18
Noon - 6pm
at Red 7
611 E. 7th St. at Red River
FREE / OPEN TO THE PUBLIC / ALL AGES
NO NEED TO RSVP
2 Stages of Music featuring:
VIVIAN GIRLS
BEACH HOUSE
THE THERMALS
THE PAINS OF BEING PURE AT HEART
THEMSELVES
YONI WOLF OF WHY?
MAX TUNDRA
WAVVES
LONEY DEAR
SHOUT OUT OUT OUT OUT
FOL CHEN
LAKE
RAINBOW ARABIA
DMG$
LARYTTA
Chris Wilcha is the only living person who’s directed both Ira Glass and Mr. T. Wilcha won two Emmy awards for directing and co-executive producing a TV version of Glass’ acclaimed NPR radio show This American Life for Showtime. He has also directed promos, pilots and short films for MTV, PBS, Sundance Channel and TV Land, including The Social History of the Mosh Pit, Second Hand Stories and, with the aforementioned T., I Pity The Fool. His first-person video diary The Target Shoots First, about his tenure in the marketing department at
the mail order CD and tape club Columbia House in the early 1990’s, won lots of festival awards, was screened internationally and broadcast on Cinemax.
A Transmission from Fol Chen:
“You know that mysterious black object that the creepy family is staring at on the cover of Led Zeppelin’s “Presence” album? Fol Chen sound like that. But we don’t sound like Led Zeppelin. (We actually do
a little.) Instead, we sound like Prince with Amon Duul II and a children’s religious revival, not to mention Hot Chip, Pink Floyd, Gwen Stefani, Pere Ubu, Danielson Famile, Scritti Politti, Boards of Canada, The Blow, and Pulp. (Mostly.) We are using secret powers and the guidance of legendary DJ Donna Donna to combat our nemesis, John Shade. We are cryptic and joyful and we would like you to dance.”
The Story of Fol Chen:
Traffic was thick, thick, thick and Samuel Bing was unwell, strung out on the latest psychotropic fads: sleeplessness and feeling crummy. The Northern State was crawling like a funeral procession for Robert Moses. Above the overpasses, the clouds were lined with gristle. Even the horizon seemed to be sinking. So, it came just in time when Donna Donna transmitted her message over the open radio waves - a phantom broadcast from a station whose signal had long since dissolved into static. You could barely hear her voice between the Crazy Eddie ads, but Samuel Bing had his radio loud. She spoke backwards for security, but Samuel Bing understood each word. “Initiates in the society of Fol Chen,” Donna Donna whispered, “Let’s get to it. While you sit in traffic, John Shade is busy spreading his black mischief. Here’s the Screamer of the Week: ‘Birds Fly’ by Icicle Works.” Samuel Bing turned off his car and opened his trunk. No one was moving, so no one bothered honking. His trunk was filled with what looked like garbage, but this wasn’t just any piled crap — Every object was a module in a greater, yet-to-be-created whole. Samuel Bing fished out a cassette tape and a broken ice-scraper. He inspected the sides of each, found the hidden grooves, snapped them together. He grabbed a faded Polaroid, an old paperback romance, a polyester potholder, and a pair of drugstore sunglasses. He snapped each edge to edge. He chose twelve items, then another six, and arranged all eighteen in interlocking circles that together formed a wider circle. Just to be safe Samuel Bing welded the grooves with a cigarette lighter, slapped the whole thing on his back. From beneath a crusty blanket where the spare tire should have been, he pulled a wide, machete-like sword, and shoved it in his belt. Then Samuel Bing leapt into the air and let the currents carry him.
Melissa Thorne and Phat Jeph were waiting in room 12A when Samuel Bing landed in the parking lot of the Desert Hot Springs Hotel Spa. This is where they met in times of elevated risk - when the Highland Park compound was out of the question. Phat Jeph was ripped on peppermint schnapps, but he was a gentle, melancholy kind of drunk, and hard to deal with sober, so Melissa Thorne made sure his glass stayed full. Samuel Bing didn’t bother knocking. He already had a key. He searched the bathroom, looked under the bed. “Where are the others?” he asked. “G-Bone and Wass are on the way,” said Melissa Thorne. “What about
Baby Alex?” asked Samuel Bing. But they fell silent, just stared at the rug. Samuel Bing poured himself a schnapps and asked what happened, though he knew the answer. “John Shade got him,” Phat Jeph slurred. Samuel Bing gripped the pommel of his sword. “We don’t have time for this,” said Melissa Thorne, and elbowed Phat Jeph in the ribs. “Okay, here’s the idea,” he said. “We have to build a serious pyramid. That way we can measure the stars, the distances between them. Like the Aztecs and the Incas and King Tutankhamen. We have to take this battle to Shade.” “I’ve drawn up some plans,” said Melissa Thorne. She pushed the blueprints across the filthy bedspread. “You in?” Samuel Bing smiled for the first time all week. He pulled his sword from his belt, tested the blade with his thumb, nodded. “I’m in.”
- Ben Ehrenreich
“Fol Chen has only been around for a few months, but is already blowing up. Their forthcoming debut album is heavy with wobbly pop tunes that get the toes tapping and keep a listener guessing.” -XLR8R.com
“…sounds a bit like Sufjan Stevens if he’d been raised by David Koresh instead of Christian-hippie parents in Michigan” -LA Times
“The result is a record that balances light and dark, and is fresh enough to hold listeners captive” -NPR
FOL CHEN
Mar. 12 Los Angeles, CA Echo Curio
Mar. 18 - 21 Austin, TX SXSW
Fol Chen Part 1: John Shade, Your Fortune’s Made
(Asthmatic Kitty)
Street date: Feb. 03, 2009
1.The Believers
2.No Wedding Cake
3.You and Your Sister in Jericho
4.The Idiot
5.Red Skies Over Garden City (The Ballad of Donna Donna)
6.Winter, That’s All
7.Cable TV
8.Please, John, You’re Killing Me
9.The Longer U Wait (Version)
10.If Tuesday Comes
For the past 7 months the beloved and bespectacled musical linguist who introduced many of us to the clocklike tones of her signature kalimba, has been hard at work on her debut full- length album. On February 24th Laura Barrett’s VICTORY GARDEN (PAPER BAG RECORDS) will flourish in all its symphonic majesty. As a follow up to the stripped down folk sounds of her Earth Sciences EP, Victory Garden is a sonic masterpiece incorporating the resonance of woodwinds, strings, brass and a range of percussive instruments. Laura calls on a talented ensemble of musicians to aid in making her musical fantasy world a reality: Basia Bulat on autoharp and vocals, Randy Lee (The Bicycles, Hylozoists and Lily Frost) on Violin, Jeremy Strachan (Feuermusik) on clarinet, Lief Mosbaugh (Hidden Cameras) on oboe and viola, John Tielli (Metal Kites) on theremin and the list goes on.
Most notably, Paul Aucoin (of Hylozoists fame) lays down his whirring vibraphones; a perfect companion to Barrett’s modest kalimba and warm and nurturing voice. Aucoin is also credited for recording and mixing Victory Garden. Also featured on the 12-track album is Laura’s return to her piano playing roots. These rich melodies and intricate arrangements weave and wisp through Barrett’s lyrics, sweet and furious rants about technologies that divide and alienate. Laura Barrett’s music has taken root with Victory Garden and its fruits are abundant.
Laura says: “Victory Garden refers to two things: the general concept of a garden describes the rich symphonic mixture of sounds created by this more communal gathering of musicians, with the cover art illustrating that it is a more collective enterprise than my solo efforts.
Also, the title refers to the victory gardens of wartime, as we are seeing a move toward small-scale, more sustainable farming and agriculture, and we also see a world still embroiled in war and conflict that dedicates resources toward death and not life. The Victory Garden is a hopeful act, but carries with it cynicism about humanity’s development.”
Press Quotes:
“A bracelet of glittering, beautiful songs for kalimba and other magical instruments, studded with words that sparkle like rocking-horse charms.” - The Globe and Mail
“Furious and blithe, her kalimba casts itself into the past of organic, resonant instruments just as it thrusts into a future of intrusive nanotech and paranoid schizophrenia.” - CokeMachineGlow
“Your quirky, crafty, half-hip / half-nerdy friend who.. never ceases to charm you with her wiles and whimsy” - Pitchfork
LAURA BARRETT
Apr. 8 - Salt Spring Island, BC - TBA+
Apr. 10 - Victoria, BC - 50/50 Collective+
Apr. 12 - Vancouver, BC - Little Mountain Studios+
Apr. 14 - Osoyoos, BC - TBA+
Apr. 17 - Calgary, AB - TBA+
Apr. 18 - Edmonton, AB - TBA+
Apr. 19 - Bruno, SK - All Citizens+
Apr. 21 - Regina, SK - The Exchange+
+ = w/ the Phonemes
Laura Barrett Victory Garden
(Paper Bag)
Street date: Feb. 24, 2009
1. Wood Between Worlds
2. Consumption
3. Spoiler Alert
4. Chidiya
5. Bluebird
6. A Certain Major Vinylsky
7. Ferryland
8. The Sharper Side
9. Space Seed: The Musical
10. Escape To The Sun Dome
11. Rien a Declarer
12. To The Stars!
“You know that mysterious black object that the creepy family is staring at on the cover of Led Zeppelin’s “Presence” album? Fol Chen sound like that. But we don’t sound like Led Zeppelin. (We actually do
a little.) Instead, we sound like Prince with Amon Duul II and a children’s religious revival, not to mention Hot Chip, Pink Floyd, Gwen Stefani, Pere Ubu, Danielson Famile, Scritti Politti, Boards of Canada, The Blow, and Pulp. (Mostly.) We are using secret powers and the guidance of legendary DJ Donna Donna to combat our nemesis, John Shade. We are cryptic and joyful and we would like you to dance.”
The Story of Fol Chen:
Traffic was thick, thick, thick and Samuel Bing was unwell, strung out on the latest psychotropic fads: sleeplessness and feeling crummy. The Northern State was crawling like a funeral procession for Robert Moses. Above the overpasses, the clouds were lined with gristle. Even the horizon seemed to be sinking. So, it came just in time when Donna Donna transmitted her message over the open radio waves - a phantom broadcast from a station whose signal had long since dissolved into static. You could barely hear her voice between the Crazy Eddie ads, but Samuel Bing had his radio loud. She spoke backwards for security, but Samuel Bing understood each word. “Initiates in the society of Fol Chen,” Donna Donna whispered, “Let’s get to it. While you sit in traffic, John Shade is busy spreading his black mischief. Here’s the Screamer of the Week: ‘Birds Fly’ by Icicle Works.” Samuel Bing turned off his car and opened his trunk. No one was moving, so no one bothered honking. His trunk was filled with what looked like garbage, but this wasn’t just any piled crap — Every object was a module in a greater, yet-to-be-created whole. Samuel Bing fished out a cassette tape and a broken ice-scraper. He inspected the sides of each, found the hidden grooves, snapped them together. He grabbed a faded Polaroid, an old paperback romance, a polyester potholder, and a pair of drugstore sunglasses. He snapped each edge to edge. He chose twelve items, then another six, and arranged all eighteen in interlocking circles that together formed a wider circle. Just to be safe Samuel Bing welded the grooves with a cigarette lighter, slapped the whole thing on his back. From beneath a crusty blanket where the spare tire should have been, he pulled a wide, machete-like sword, and shoved it in his belt. Then Samuel Bing leapt into the air and let the currents carry him.
Melissa Thorne and Phat Jeph were waiting in room 12A when Samuel Bing landed in the parking lot of the Desert Hot Springs Hotel Spa. This is where they met in times of elevated risk - when the Highland Park compound was out of the question. Phat Jeph was ripped on peppermint schnapps, but he was a gentle, melancholy kind of drunk, and hard to deal with sober, so Melissa Thorne made sure his glass stayed full. Samuel Bing didn’t bother knocking. He already had a key. He searched the bathroom, looked under the bed. “Where are the others?” he asked. “G-Bone and Wass are on the way,” said Melissa Thorne. “What about
Baby Alex?” asked Samuel Bing. But they fell silent, just stared at the rug. Samuel Bing poured himself a schnapps and asked what happened, though he knew the answer. “John Shade got him,” Phat Jeph slurred. Samuel Bing gripped the pommel of his sword. “We don’t have time for this,” said Melissa Thorne, and elbowed Phat Jeph in the ribs. “Okay, here’s the idea,” he said. “We have to build a serious pyramid. That way we can measure the stars, the distances between them. Like the Aztecs and the Incas and King Tutankhamen. We have to take this battle to Shade.” “I’ve drawn up some plans,” said Melissa Thorne. She pushed the blueprints across the filthy bedspread. “You in?” Samuel Bing smiled for the first time all week. He pulled his sword from his belt, tested the blade with his thumb, nodded. “I’m in.”
- Ben Ehrenreich
“Fol Chen has only been around for a few months, but is already blowing up. Their forthcoming debut album is heavy with wobbly pop tunes that get the toes tapping and keep a listener guessing.” -XLR8R.com
“…sounds a bit like Sufjan Stevens if he’d been raised by David Koresh instead of Christian-hippie parents in Michigan” -LA Times
“The result is a record that balances light and dark, and is fresh enough to hold listeners captive” -NPR
FOL CHEN
Mar. 12 Los Angeles, CA Echo Curio
Mar. 18 - 21 Austin, TX SXSW
Fol Chen Part 1: John Shade, Your Fortune’s Made
(Asthmatic Kitty)
Street date: Feb. 03, 2009
1.The Believers
2.No Wedding Cake
3.You and Your Sister in Jericho
4.The Idiot
5.Red Skies Over Garden City (The Ballad of Donna Donna)
6.Winter, That’s All
7.Cable TV
8.Please, John, You’re Killing Me
9.The Longer U Wait (Version)
10.If Tuesday Comes
Fol Chen
Laura Barrett