Perhaps this wasn’t exactly the most exhilarating week in music in recent memory, but that’s not to say that nothing of note didn’t happen. There’s never a dull moment in music, not even during what seem like the slowest weeks. These last few days saw new material and details of potential collaborations come to light, band break ups, and legal strife, among other things.

And, of course, Kayne West made regular appearances on this site. There’s never a dull moment to be had as long as he’s involved.

As always, stay tuned. We’re here to keep you up to speed on everything. Even during the slow weeks.

Here’s a quick look at the weekend:

– Kanye West announced plans for a ”Power” film and collaborated with Kid Cudi.

– Queens of the Stoneage played stateside for the first time in over two years.

– Megan Ritt reviewed Rufus Wainwright‘s recent Chicago gig.

– Nick Freed imagined a world without digital formats “Alternative History X.”

And now for this week:

– Sufjan Stevens shocked the world with the release of a brand new EP, All Delighted People.

– Belle & Sebastian detailed their forthcoming LP.

– My Morning Jacket debuted a new song.

– Here’s more Kanye West-related news. His record won’t drop until November, but West’s G.O.O.D. Ass Mixtape will tide fans over. Get it here. Also, a collaboration with Justin Bieber is in the works. Oh, and his “Power” remix with Jay-Z is absurd.

– Here’s a shock: the new T.I. album was delayed.

– Conan O’Brien will release a spoken word 7″ next week via Third Man.

– Remember that goofy Weezer album cover? The group discussed that along with the tracklist for said album.

– Remember that “shitty” Kings of Leon show? The group rescheduled it.

– Remember that controversial video Erykah Badu made? Well, she’s paying for it. Literally.

– David Bowie disspelled the rumor of a collaboration with Lady Gaga.

– Eminem‘s Recovery reclaimed the top slot on the charts this week. (Sorry, Arcade Fire).

– Some of Pink Floyd‘s most essential albums will be temporarily out of print.

–Norwegian scientists “cured” the music industry.

– Pocahaunted, Bethany Cosentino’s pre-Best Coast band, broke up.

– Of Montreal put out a crazy new video.

–Speaking of new videos, Arcade Fire premiered “Ready to Start.”

– A new Raekwon track surfaced.

– E.N. May reviewed Fortress, the debut from indie upstarts Miniature Tigers. He also went to one of their shows.

–We did it. We actually posted a review of an Iron Maiden album.

– David Buchanan took on “epic” songs in a new edition of List ‘Em Carefully.

– Harry Painter interviewed Dean DeLeo of Stone Temple Pilots fame.

–A little while back, we asked We Are Scientists bassist Chris Cain to complete our Q & A. This is what he came up with.

– Our staff covered the “easiest festival to attend in the history of festivals”: San Francisco’s Outside Lands.

In four active years, the band created by Amanda Brown and Bethany Cosentino seemed poised for great things but always lied just on the edge of indie-breakthrough act. Then, Cosentino left the group and formed Best Coast, which I hear is making some waves on the scene. But Brown continued on with touring and recording, creating some respectable music and earning a devoted following along the way. But, as announced on the band’s MySpace, the journey has ended and Brown has decided to hang-up the moniker and start anew.

When reached for comment by CoS, Brown stated that “the band has been going on for four years in multiple configurations and after all this time we’ve just decided to move on. Even though we feel like we had better songs to write and more interesting paths to follow, it felt healthier, happier and more invigorating to put this project to rest.”

Furthermore, Brown added the following on the band’s Myspace blog:

“Oh man it’s been four years since Bethany and I started Pocahaunted. I feel like over those years the members and the music changed every four minutes. Ad still there you were listening. I’m so grateful for all the couches crashed on, all the shows set up, all the records ordered, all the kind words said. When the Jonas Brothers claim they couldn’t do it without their fans we all roll our eyes, but we shouldn’t. It’s been a long time since I played a show for myself or drove through south carolina on a personal whim. I do it because [you're] there, and some of you have even been there since I was just sitting cross legged with an out of tune guitar and a mic duct-taped to a keyboard stand. Part of me still has a real feeling of innocence about this band — and part of me feels the wisdom that comes with four years of crazy creation. It’s just that time to shimmy on.”

Pocahaunted were probably best known for their 2008 Island Diamond LP, which received critical acclaim and gained them the notoriety tour the country as a headliner in small venues. And it should be noted that they were doing the bohemian-Indian thing before every girl in Silver Lake and Brooklyn was. Amanda Brown is a talent and like Cosentino, it is the opinion of CoS that she will land on her feet and probably has some of her best material ahead of her. Best of luck to her and the other band members Britt Brown, Leyna Tilbor, Diva Dompe, and Ged Gengras.

Photo via myspace.com/pocahaunted…

After the shock of the cover art, I waded into the unfamiliar soup that waited within. From the opening thrums of “Touch You”, the lo-fi recording aesthetic seemed to be held over from past Pocahaunted releases. But, frankly, they aren’t so much scary now, as they are fun. The newly fleshed out band doesn’t seem entirely connected yet, often feeling out the rhythm in progress. The drum fill that opens the song seems to just miss the bass, at first. But, when they do find each other, the groove is fun and freewheeling. Keyboardist Leyna Tilbor and bassist Diva Dompe are a nice change of pace on backing vocals and adding extra power to Amanda Brown’s lead, the two weaving in and out of focus.

The group isn’t a straight funk band, but they’re trying their best to bury funk in the underground, lo-fi, droney haze they once drenched over folk (and occasionally over itself). The vocals on “Make It Real” are a bit goofy, but the groans and grimaces that accompany a repetition of the song’s title in the song’s bridge are Karen O on a bad trip. The chattering, smoky intro to “All Of Is Of” may be the strongest moment on the record. Drummer Ged Gengras skitters a clicked rhythm with perfectly placed jabs at the cow bell, while Dompe’s bass poly-rhythms its way up and down the track. The muted, high-end blips of guitar from Britt Brown (who records doomy drones as Robedoor and is also the husband of vocalist Amanda) hit more often than they miss, while the trio of wordless warbles from the female contingent add a middle ground between the guitar and bass.

The guitar line on “UFO” begins to grate after a couple of minutes. A couple of minutes later, the track dives into a mess before the bass drags it back out. The downtempo swim that follows works, Tilbor’s reverbed organ sounding pretty Doors-y. It even sounds like there’s a horn section. Elements come into a focus as time passes, until the ten minute mark has vocalist Brown back in a wild mood, howling away over a now-complete groove. The last few minutes find a saxophone over-honking the horn line in a triumphantly non-perfect way that suits the tune to a T, as the rest of the band fades out.

“You Do Voo Doo” is silly, to put plainly. The bass and drums sound very familiar, echoing the rest of the album, while the guitar and vocals call and respond with Amanda Brown spitting out the song’s title dozens of times. “Sanctuary” crackles with intensity, the wordless vocal howls going back to Pocahaunted of old. The buried vocals, though, are again repeating the song’s title endlessly.

Album closer “Save Yrself (It’s Nice)” is an interesting development, to be sure. Dompe’s bass flutters beautifully, ranging chromatically as Gengras’ cow bell comes out to play on top of his stutter-step drumming. Tilbor’s keys glide before swirling out of consciousness. Britt Brown’s occasional stabs of echoed guitar lay back underneath wife Amanda’s revision of lyrics from Talking Heads’ “This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody).” The shroomed out, bubbly groove sits squarely in the pocket, as “We’ve got plenty of time, there’s a light in your eyes” murmurs abound, and wordless howls spin in and out of the fore.

In the end, “All Of Is Of”,  “Save Yrself(It’s Nice)”, and the second half of “UFO” are easily the album’s strongest pieces, the loose grooves coming together in an intelligible way. The difference between a loose, lo-fi attitude in drone and a similar outlook in funk is a tricky one. Logically, it would work more frequently with drone, and to a better end. When the lax rhythms fit with Pocahaunted’s new lo-funk, it results in danceable fun. But, when the rhythms miss, it sounds like a funk band practicing for one of the first times, trying to find a jam they can work with, which isn’t all that appealing on record. With more time, with more records and shows under their belt, I’m confident they’ll gain mastery over this new sound, but this one’s just too inconsistent.

From those ashes, though, have sprung two sublime bands. First, would be the resurrected phoenix that is Pocahaunted. Though they go by the same name, the group is hardly the same. Amanda Brown is still on board, but this time with a West Coast psych-super group surrounding her. Recent shows have reportedly featured a lineup including Britt Brown (Amanda’s husband, who records as Robedoor and is the co-conspirator at the head of the Not Not Fun label), Cameron Stallones of the woefully underrated Sun Araw, Diva Pompe (from blackblack, side project of Phantom Planet front man Alex Greenwald), and Ged Gengrass of ambi-mental duo Antique Brothers.

Live audio and video posted to the MySpace sound, well, a little jazzy, a little tropical. Which is weird. There’s a whole lot less fuzz; the recordings don’t sound so much Native American doom, as much as they do spacey, synth-steel-drummy. Heck, “Save Yourself” (recorded live in Amsterdam) even finds Brown riffing on the chorus of Talking Heads’ “This Must be the Place” (albeit underneath streams of  howling wind effects and skronking trumpet). From what’s been posted, it seems like Stallones’ organ is perpetually stuck on Plinging Caribbean Marimba, and Brown still loves face-painting. Altogether, the band is bigger, the sound less evil (it might even be called fun and cheery, at times). It’s tough calling this band Pocahaunted, considering the massive overhaul, but it’s an interesting new band nonetheless.

Cosentino, having left Pocahaunted, has taken to recording under the moniker Best Coast. Somewhat surprisingly, Best Coast has gotten a lot more buzz out of the gate than new Pocahaunted has, considering the conglomerate of California stars that joined Brown’s team. But the lo-fi beach blanket business has been good lately (thanks Wavves, Ducktails), so Cosentino’s version is a bit more on-trend. Longtime Pocahaunted contributor/producer Bobb Bruno (AKA Goliath Bird Eater and onetime babysitter to Cosentino, according to an interview with fashion/culture mag Nylon) is along for the ride, providing the basic, swimmy rhythms to pair with the psychy, fuzz-blasted surf pop.

According to a Best Coast blog post, the band is supposed to have “Beach Boys bass lines” and make songs about “summer and the sun and the ocean and being a lazy creep.” The hit jam that encompasses all that and more is the sublime “Sun Was High (So Was I).” The overdriven guitar rides a wave of blissed-out fuzz, and Cosentino’s belted vocals power through the mess. All that buzz has garnered Best Coast a slot on a two-week West Coast jaunt, opening for the Vivian Girls. It’s almost a duh-inducing moment, seeing all the girl power on one bill, but that would certainly be a gig worth shelling out some dough for.

While I’m still mourning the death of the old Pocahaunted, the new directions of Pocahaunted Redux and  Best Coast are breaths of fresh air. Here’s to hoping they’ll both tour outside of California, Oregon, and Texas.

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]]> Check Out: [youtube 7OHAvFFuv5c] [youtube zn37nMkaJ_U] ]]> http://consequenceofsound.net/2010/01/listen-pocahaunted-best-coast/feed/ 0 http://consequenceofsound.net/2009/07/album-review-pocahaunted-passage/ http://consequenceofsound.net/2009/07/album-review-pocahaunted-passage/#comments Mon, 06 Jul 2009 19:15:13 +0000 Adam Kivel http://consequenceofsound.net/?p=16909 Pocahaunted is undoubtedly an acquired taste. The supremely psychedelic, often formless, nearly Native American Sturm und Drang isn’t exactly something that will draw huge crowds outside of the drone community. Heck, the name’s probably off-putting for some people. But, if you’ve even had an inkling that you might get into drone, Pocahaunted is the perfect first step.

The cover of Passage (which is easily one of the best of the year) gives quite a clear indication of the vinyl’s contents. The font is very Rumours (which is no surprise, as the girls are wont to cover “The Chain”); it proudly proclaims that it is in STEREO; the deep red light; Bethany Cosentino and Amanda Brown (the so-called Olsen twins of drone) looking epic with their tribal-y tattoos and kerchief-ed coifs.

The music is downright molasses. As usual, the vocals are largely chanted, attempting to emulate traditional Native American vocalization but also perfectly encompassing the eerie campfire feel of the cover. The instrumentation, again as usual, is a murky pool of wavy, clashing guitars accompanied by thumping mallet drums.

But, after the advances of last year’s phenomenal Chains, this album feels like a step backwards. The dubby, polyrhythm that made Chains an interesting twist to their tribal sound is gone, instead relying on more simplistic rhythms and chord systems. (I hesitate to use the term “progression,” as that implies an arc that the album revels in denying.) The sweep and climactic pushes of Chains are unfortunately also not quite represented on Passage, which, for droney better or worse, keeps a slippery yet constant path.

It’s hard to differentiate the four tracks. They’re all fairly similar: the clang of guitar lopes in under a ton of reverb; the vocals caterwaul in, chanting and echoing from the spine; the heavy tom drumming thumps and lingers close to the back. Nothing on the record really stands out as any more memorable or powerful than anything else. The album just nods and bobs on, a rolling Mississippi of drone that keeps on pushing to the very end.

While Passage might be a perfect introduction to modern drone rock, it certainly isn’t the best drone out there. It’s not even close to the group’s best recording. But, the grooves on this record are perfect to sit back and try to fall into, without feeling clubbed on the head or dunked completely under. There’s enough familiar sound on here to keep from alienating people, and the structures and passages (totaling only 40 minutes) won’t be enough to push people away or frustrate. All that said, the powerful stabs and yowls that made last year’s record such a success just aren’t here. But considering Pocahaunted’s prodigious output (nearly 30 recordings over the past four years, including live releases, split records and EPs, cassettes, CD-Rs, etc.), we’ll know soon enough whether this step is indicative of anything more than this one album.

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	pocahaunted-palm
	Found at skreemr.com

Amanda and Bethany have put out more than a handful of records, CDs and cassettes over the past few years, all full of psychedelic drone, clanging guitars, tribal drums and chanted vocals. Early records like Moccassinging and Bearskin Rug depended on Bethany’s former studying of native anthropology. A lot of their output has been released on the stellar label Not Not Fun (co-run by Amanda and her husband, Robedoor), an LA-area home to releases by the likes of Charalambides, Yellow Swans, Raccoo-oo-oon and Robedoor. They’ve got friends in the Smell scene, like No Age and HEALTH. Thurston Moore picked Pocahaunted to open a slate of shows.

All of these connections show up in spades in their music. As time passes, the dependency on Native American spiritual sounds has become more and more a sidenote, rather than a shtick to rely on. And Chains may be the epitome of their growth. Printed on psych-tastic clear yellow vinyl, they’ve been quoted as wanting the album to sound like “fucked up Tom Tom Club palm tree pop.” Also, they say it’s somewhere between “drugged funk, and Fleetwood Mac.” But, instead of being a lot of self-aggrandizing PR-speak, these descriptions are pretty darn accurate.

Drummers Josh Klinghoffer and Bobb Bruno (who also produced the platter) help separate this album from other Pocahaunted releases. Where other albums reveled in repetitive drum figures, Klinghofffer and Bruno spatter swaths of cymbal and snare hits throughout, switching between dub, latin and tropicalia rhythms instead of droning on one beat for an entire album.

Side A is composed of “The Weight” and “No More Women”. While bearing the same title as The Band’s 1968 gem, the first track is not, at least by any easy-to-see measurement, a cover. Instead, chanted “Hey oh!” with one thousand layers of reverb fall over a slow feedback drone, a lone guitar teetering along with an epic drumbeat. “No More Women” focuses on an active yet laid-back drumbeat, slapped snare hits and a near-swing hi-hat fill.

Side B takes off from there, finding the drone queens at their absolute best. The vocals in “Oh Woe” are nothing short of tragic, wailing for some awful loss. Bethany’s majestic, grandiose howl skipping octaves at will, while Amanda’s vocals reign in a fluid, wavelike guitar scream. The title track may be the best bit of music the duo has put out. The vocals are so emotive that you never really notice that there aren’t any identifiable lyrics. “Aaah”s and “yeah”s are transformed into something more expressive than any poem or lyric.

Pocahaunted have always been great at producing mesmerizing drones, whoops of music that hit you like a buffeting wind through a dark forest. On Chains, though, the duo finds a new strength in drawing people in that may not already be interested in drone. The rhythm is always there, sunk underneath layers of psychedelic muck, the two perfectly flowing at the same pace.

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“Ghetto Ballet”