Vampire Weekend's Rostam and The Walkmen's Hamilton Leithauser Combine On "A 1000 Times"

Damn, we've missed Hamilton Leithauser's voice.

The former Walkman has joined forces once again with now ex-Vampire Weekender Rostam Batmanglij to grace us with "A 1000 Times," a lovely tune that breaks right out of the gate with Leithauser's full register of glorious pleading howls. The potential energy is immediately palpable in the delicate opening few seconds that serve only to set the stage for a vocal main course that doesn't really let up once it starts.

The official debut of the newly-christened Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam duo, it's the first taste of what the latter told Pitchfork "might be one of the best records I make in my whole life." Rostam elaborated on Sirius XMU, explaining,

“I always wanted to try to really capture [Leithauser’s] voice in a way I felt like maybe it had never been captured before, just in terms of how it was recorded, and also pushing him to really scream, because it’s interesting. His voice has this kind of choir boy aspect to it, but then when he screams, it’s like a little bit of the choir boy is still intact, and I think that’s a special blend of things. He sings in a way like no one else sings. So I kind of felt like it was my role as the producer, to bring that out of him. And I think ‘A 1000 Times’ is probably one of the best examples of that.”

As long as he keeps belting like that, we're sold.

Listen to "A 1000 Times" here: https://hamiltonrostam.lnk.to/A1000Times Lyrics: I had a dream that you were mine I've had that dream a thousand times A thousand times, a thousand times I've had that dream a thousand times I left my room, on the west side I walked from noon, until the

A Front-Loaded Collection of Hip-Hop and Pop Beats, Clams Casino's '32 Levels' is a Mixed-Bag

Putting out a solo record as a hip-hop beat maker is tricky business. Typically your role as a producer is one of background—serving as a springboard for a rapper or singer. But on your own record, however, you have to strike a balance incorporating intriguing features, while not overshadowing one’s own production chops. In the last few years we’ve seen a number of hip-hop beat makers and producers make a name for themselves outside of the famous artists they work with—Flying Lotus, Knxwledge, SBTRKT, and KAYTRANADA to just name a few—and electronica/beat music seems to only be gaining more credibility as an independent and dynamic genre.

Clams Casino, actual name Michael Volpe, is just one of many hot producers venturing into putting out his own solo record. Having developed a fervent following through his work with artists like Lil B, A$AP Rocky, and The Weekend, along with several well received instrumental mix tapes and EP, Clams’ debut LP 32 Levels was a highly anticipated release hip-hop and beat heads alike. The album features 12 tracks (plus 12 instrumentals of the tracks) featuring some familiar players (A$AP Rocky, Lil B) as well as some unique choices, most notably Sam Herring of Future Islands.

32 Levels has two very distinct A and B sides. Side A is distinctly the rap portion, stacked with A$AP, Vince Stables, and several tracks with Lil B. Clams is very clearly in the zone on this section of the album. His beats are tight and masterfully produced, and possess a polish not heard on his previous work like the Rainforest EP. Long time listeners will appreciate the dark, heavy, and aquatic tones and his delicious composition of vocal samples that have come to define Clams unique sound. He utilizes the flows of Rocky on “Be Somebody," and it obvious that he has a deep rapport with Lil B that allows them to build off one another’s musical styles. Vince Staples is particularly strong on his track “All Nite,” which is a fiery banger with almost industrial, syncopated breakdown.

On Side B, Clams’ enters new territory with more pop features like Kelela and Sam Dew, ending with Herring. Unfortunately, this gives a front-loaded feeling to 32 Levels. Clams Is very clearly out of his element on this section of the record, and the adeptness he exhibits with his features on side A is absent on the second half. Frankly, it just doesn’t seem like Clams knew what to do with these singers. There are certainly moments of promise on the B side: Sam Herring gritty baritone jives well macabre musicality of Clams, Kelela’s voice soars on the chorus of “A Breath Away,” but tracks like “Back to You” and “Into the Fire” smack of Top 40 pop and Clams’ stamp seems washed away. Herring and Kelela make the second half worth listening to, but one could certainly skip some of these tracks without missing much.

Despite fizzling a bit, 32 Levels is indicative of an exciting future for Clams Casino. Clams has refined and focused his sound, and there is not doubt that as a hip-hop producer he demands respect. The question that remains is whether Clams will be able to build off the successful experimentation on this record to find his pop sensibility, or if he will be better served staying in his own wheelhouse.

"Ghost In A Kiss (feat. Samuel T.

Listen to We Roll Like Madmen's Second 'AF' Single, "Always Late"

Adorned by what can only be described as a Warby Parker-wearing gangsta corgi on the cover, We Roll Like Madmen's second AF single, "Always Late," is just in time to fill the cool summer shade. The track follows their recent impressive music video for "You Thought You," and, according to the duo, came about pretty organically.

WRLM explains to Transverso,

“Often times, I find myself procrastinating by producing music of no use in particular. It’s usually the day before some project is due that I’ll be spending my time writing drum loops or making wonky sounds instead of actually concentrating on the task at hand. ‘Always Late’ started from one of those distractions and it wasn’t until much later that we developed it into anything. Those initial strokes on a blank canvas end up meaning more in hindsight. ‘Always Late’ is the feeling of life changing while we are at our least mindful. Whether it feels good or bad, you can’t go back.”

Despite what their name implies, the Madmen show a lot of restraint on "Always Late," patiently building upon a skittering beat and pulsing bass as the song slowly evolves over its runtime of five minutes even. Appropriately, Jordan Young's hypnotic vocals don't even first appear until 4:15, though whether you can consider that "late" or not is all relative.

Listen below. AF is due out October 7 via Post-Echo.

We Roll Like Madmen "Always Late" AF http://Post-Echo.com http://WeRollLikeMadmen.com Find We Roll Like Madmen: Facebook- http://on.fb.me/1FLBI56 Spotify- http://spoti.fi/29uo7Aq Bandcamp- http://bit.ly/29q16z9

Listen to Space-y New Wild Beasts Single, "Celestial Creatures"

"Organic but digital, aggressive but tender, hallucinatory but clear-eyed." That's how Wild Beasts describe "Celestial Creatures," the third single from their forthcoming 5th LP, Boy King, due out August 5 via Domino, and we'd have to say we agree with that assessment.

Following "Get My Bang" and "Big Cat," the space-y track maintains a steadily uplifting locomotion, boosted by Hayden Thorpe's always elegant vocals. Listen below.

Wild Beasts - Celestial Creatures (Official Audio) from 'Boy King' - the new album out 5th August 2016 Pre-order digital: http://po.st/BoyKingDL Pre-order CD/LP/LPX: http://po.st/BoyKingStore Listen to Wild Beasts on Spotify: http://po.st/CelestialStream http://po.st/WildBeastsSP Follow Wild Beasts: Facebook: http://po.st/WildBeastsFB Twitter: http://po.st/WildBeastsTW Instagram: http://po.st/WildBeastsIN http://vevo.ly/PD9X6B

Preserving a Culture: An Interview With the Sound Engineer Documenting the Folk Music of Mongolian Herders

All media by Dimitri Staszewski

The eternal struggle of the documentarian is capturing someone in an authentic moment. As soon as one turns on the camera or the recorder, people start performing—masking themselves whether intentionally or not. This challenge is no different for Dimitri Staszewski, who has spent the last nine months as a MTV-U Fulbright Fellow filming and recording Mongolian herders singing and playing traditional music all over the East Asian nation.

Staszewski has documented the voices of goat and sheep herders in the southwest, Kaskak eagle hunters and Reindeer People in the north, and more, always attempting to capture these lay singers in their natural state and preserve a tradition that is beginning to fade. Transverso sat down with Dimitri as he prepares to return to the U.S. to discuss his reflections on the process, why the singing of herders offers something unique, and the future of his online collection, the Mongol Music Archive.

Auyl: A small community of Kazakh herders who live together Song name: Bürkit ani - Eagle song Performer: Boldbatyr "Boldeken" Kabit Performer's age: 51 Date: January 24, 2016 Location: Tolbo region, Bayan-Ulgii aimag Boldbatyr is a Kazakh eagle hunter living in Bayan-Ulgii—one of Mongolia's westernmost provinces. During a recording trip there I had the opportunity to record him singing about his eagle as she stood by calmly and listened. We were able to get the shot right at sunset which made for some beautiful lighting. We tried a second take after this performance, but it was already too dark.

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TRANSVERSO: Having been in Mongolia for about 9 months now you’ve met with tons of Mongolians and done countless recordings. How are you feeling coming off this entire experience, and how do you feel about it coming to a close?

STASZEWSKI: It’s interesting because in the expat community I hang around, it’s a lot of academic type people, a lot of Ph.ds - people getting their Ph.d or about to defend their Ph.d - [and] there’s also a few journalists… so it’s been coming up a lot: “What are you going to do with your project?” And without me really asking, [they keep] telling me what they think I should do. [Laughs] Which is funny for me because [the Mongol Music Archive site] is what I’m doing, you know? And I guess I could be doing more with it, but for me it’s like this is the end result. But hearing all these academics, especially like these Ph.d-anthropologist type people, I think I’ve realized - and I started to realize this on my own anyway - I’m a recording engineer before anything else, definitely before an anthropologist, definitely before a photographer or writer. So I’m thinking, “what does a recording engineer do with this project that is supposed to serve ethnomusicologists and Mongolians?”

So you’ve gotten hours and hours of footage and recordings and now you’re wondering what’s the best use of this stuff now that you have it?

Yeah, exactly. Because I’ll put it all on the website, it will all be there, and there’s going to be close to over 200 videos, which is insane, and what do you do with that? How do people even know about that resource even? Unless they search it. And if you don’t speak Mongolian, it’s not really that useful. Yeah, so there is just so much more that can be done.

Obviously there is a big question of what you’re going to do with this, but going back to the beginning of why you decided to do this - and you’ve written overviews of your project and introductions to what you’re about - but I’m wondering if you can talk a little bit about the specific idea you discuss in your work: capturing herders singing songs, as opposed to professional musicians, and wanting to capture those herders in their natural element as they’re doing their work, not as performance. Why that is so interesting to you or why you think that is important.

Traditional music is part of being Mongolian - like in the city - urban Mongolians listen to traditional music, there are lots of performances. It’s a respected profession to be a musician that performs traditional music. But I saw that the songs - the really old ones - come from herding culture, they come from that life style. If you’re singing about a mountain or whatever, you’re not singing about herding necessarily, but it comes out of being a herder. I noticed that there is this huge urbanization happening, this globalization, that’s influencing the music that is popular in Mongolia. So there are fewer herders singing, like young herders have access to tons of new music, they have TVs in their homes, so it’s happening less and less. The idea is to show… because when you see a herder singing about the environment that they’re in, like you see them next to their sheep and goats in the mountains, it’s so obvious that that environment and that lifestyle gives that herder a different perspective from someone who sings in the capital for their livelihood.

Performer: Tsendsuren Nadmid, Narantuya Gotov (daughter), and Batsaikhan Jagdad (son-in-law) Song name: Khuurkhun Borlog Mori Date: December 2015 Location: Delgerkhaan soum, Khentii aimag Tsendsuren is 79 years old and represents a group of herders who have seen the world change drastically in front of their eyes. Her mother gave birth to her in the field outside their ger. She remembers fishing next to Soviet soldiers when she was little. When she caught a fish, she would always run home right away because she was so excited. “The lake used to be rich with fish,” she said, “but now it’s getting scarce.” At the same time, herders with Tsendsuren’s musical experience are dwindling. When Tsendsuren was young, an old woman would sing with her. They never had formal lessons. Tsendsuren learned by listening and singing along with her would-be mentor. When her informal teacher died, Tsendsuren stopped learning new songs. She used to sing all the time when she was young. Now she says, “I am forgetting some of the songs.” She never had the opportunity to teach a young person what she knows.

What is it about them not singing for their livelihood, or them singing to their sheep or to the mountain or where they are, that provides something distinct from professional musicians that you think is important for people to hear?

Yeah, well I think it’s important for them to hear and see. That’s the thing. My thesis is: A herder who this is their lifestyle, by recording these performances, I’m not just preserving that performance, I’m trying to preserve that perspective contained in that performance. Because that’s something - even if these songs aren’t being lost, that perspective is something that is being lost. And so, if you look at it in a more objective way, like there are regional differences in the way these songs are performed, the lyrics will be different the notes will be different, but bigger than that: as fewer people live like herders in Mongolia, it becomes more difficult to find that perspective. So kids living in UB [Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia's capital and largest city where 45% of the population resides] may not have heard, never seen a herder singing, and I know that’s true, there are kids you have never seen that. Even if you live in Mongolia, that’s not necessarily accessible, it’s not something to get to see or hear very often in your daily life.

And because young Mongolians in the capital aren’t hearing this music they are losing this important perspective that is part of their heritage?

It’s more that the role that singing plays in the life of the Mongolian herder can’t really be overstated, especially the men - women less so - but if you talk to any Mongolian man and ask them what they do when they are herding it is singing, they’re always singing. Maybe it's just a little humming, maybe it’s them belting out. And when you talk to the people who consider themselves local entertainers or musicians, it’s a way for them to practice. And so it’s more like that tradition as it exists is disappearing and what that tradition says about Mongolia and how that is part of peoples’ heritage is important to preserve as it becomes less common.

What you’re trying to capture is so difficult, right? Because I imagine as soon as you turn on the camera is creates in artificial situation. Has that been a challenge and how have you gotten around that?

Yeah, it’s definitely a challenge. You show up - and this is the anthropologist part of me speaking - and you’re trying to observe something, you’re trying to be a fly on the wall, but you’re this big white thing with a camera; you’re very intrusive, you’re the only thing that is not supposed to be there. And so, how I’ve gotten around that problem… first of all, learning Mongolian has helped a lot, because people are like, “oh damn!” Even if I go with a translator, being able to say a few things and show that I can actually speak Mongolian is pretty helpful to them being able to open up and know that “this guy actually cares, he’s not just trying to make a video to make money.” The two biggest things would be having a local person help you, get someone else invested who is not the performer, but who is your ally so that they can help you find musicians and be like, “this American guy, he’s doing this project, it’s so cool, he’s preserving our culture and it is so important. Will you please sing for him?” and that’s obviously going to be so much more credible than me and my translator from UB.

And then the other thing would be going back to the people that I have recorded before. I think the guy who has been the best is the first guy I recorded when I was with SIT [Student International Training], and I’ve gone and visited him 4 times now, and each time he gets more comfortable. So last time I was there I attached my wireless microphone to his Del, and hit record on my device and sometimes I was filming, sometimes I wasn’t filming, and it just ends up looking really natural. Sometimes it will take him a little while to warm up to it, but he always gets around to that. So my equipment is not longer intimidating to him. I’m just his friend now. So it has become really easy.

So you’ve built this friendship with him and he trusts you, but also understands what your project is all about and trying to achieve.

Exactly. Like, I have this video that’s about 10 minutes, and its what I’ve always wanted to get because it’s just him herding, singing as he’s herding. And I was able to get that because I had this wireless microphone that I attached to him and I was just like “do your normal thing” and he was like “Okay, that’s easy.” And I think having it be that length kind of helps, because it makes you realize that this is not a performance, this is life and it is slow.

It’s like you’re capturing real life.

Yeah, and that took a long time. It took me visiting him 3 times and living with him close to a month.

Performer: D. Tseveng Date: March 2013 Location: Galuut soum, Bayankhongor aimag During a 12 day trip to Bayankhongor in 2013, I met Tseveng. He is well known in his community for singing traditional Mongolian folk songs. He used to sing in competitions and perform more regularly when he was younger, but doesn't have as many chances to perform as much as he used to. During an interview, which also included several musical performances, he asked if I wanted to hear and record him singing to his herd. Of course I jumped at the opportunity. This video is one of the songs I recorded during that performance. Tseveng has one son, but he's very shy. Summarizing Tseveng's own words, not everyone is meant to sing long songs, and unfortunately he probably won't pass his musical knowledge onto his son.

I imagine it is difficult because you can’t really live with everybody for that long.

Exactly, so another part of the project is that I want this huge archive. So some days I’ll record 3 or 4 people. I’ll introduce myself, I’ll introduce my project, and maybe will catch each other’s names, and then it’s like “Will you sing for me?” Well, maybe we’ll drink some tea before that. [Laughs] Yeah, so that’s the other side of the spectrum. You need to have both of those though. If I had just done one then I wouldn’t have any recordings or I wouldn’t have any meaningful recordings.

What has been the reception from Mongolians? I mean, you are this big white guy with a camera, right? And I know you’ve written about this before and I’ve seen you post about it on Facebook - this dilemma of capturing other peoples’ cultures on film and recording, putting it out there, and perhaps in some ways benefiting from it despite obviously going into it with good intentions.

For the people I’m recording, the experience is positive for both of us. Like I’m taking this tangible thing away and it will become a video. But I think they do gain… like a Mongolian herder doesn’t have the opportunity to see a video of them very often, and I do provide a way for them to see the videos, whether it’s me sending them a DVD or a link, and I’ll always send people pictures. The reception of herders varies from “Yeah, I’ll sing for you, but I don’t really see why this is important, or why you want me to sing because I’m not very good,” even if they are, and then there are some herders that are like, “Yes! This needs to happen, this is so awesome.” They understand that this [globalization] is happening more than I do because it’s their culture, so they fully realize that “I’m a herder and my children and their children will be able to hear this as much as I did growing up.”

And I think the reception of Mongolians in Ulaanbaatar is overwhelmingly positive. I’ve been really humbled by some people being like, “you are doing more for Mongolia than many Mongolians. I don’t even understand why you care about our culture,” which is super humbling to hear, and so it feels good to get that positive feedback.

I’m cautious as a foreigner documenting someone else’s culture, but I’ve [only] had maybe two or three experiences where there was some push back, but I’m really aware of that when it happens. And I think because of that I feel really comfortable being this foreigner. I’ve learned Mongolian, I understand the culture, I ask questions that make it clear that I understand what I’m studying, at least a little bit. So I don’t think being a foreign anthropologist has been something that turns people off. Like the few times where it did, where someone was unwilling to sing for me, it felt like it something on their end and like they had a chip on their shoulder, and it was like, “Okay, I don’t need to record you.”

Right, you just move on.

I know this may not be fully formed thing that you have yet. but what do you think is the global significance of the Mongol Music Archive? Is it just documenting this thing that might not exist anymore or is there some sort of larger message you are hoping will be achieved by preserving this specific subset of Mongolian music?

Yeah, that’s a really good question. There is obviously this one side of things that’s like: Mongolians and people around the world will have this part of Mongolian heritage that is not only preserved but also accessible. So even if [herding] still exists for a thousand years, you don’t get to see Mongolian herders singing very often, so now anyone can see that. And that’s really cool, it’s inspiring. It’s really beautiful to see an eagle hunter holding an eagle and singing to it. So knowing that these types of people are out there and making it real, you see that person, you see that they’re singing. I think that is really inspiring. So that would be the one thing.

And the other thing… like for me, I’ve learned so much from the songs themselves, the ones I’ve had translated. It’s really interesting because I’ll go around and record these songs, and sometimes I’ll have these really powerful experiences where I feel this connection with performer and get a really cool performance, but I don’t really understand the song. And so I’ll have them translated, and it’s really crazy when I had an impactful experience and then the song is translated and it’s like, “holy shit!” I didn’t even get that there and now I have this other thing… like the lyrics themselves are incredibly beautiful. I have a lot of the Kasak songs translated, and those ones especially, they are like lessons in the songs themselves. I’m hesitant to say it is this Old World knowledge or something like that, but it is something that doesn’t exist in modern music. You hear the songs, like there is this song this guy sings about his mother, and I had that song translated, and I was like, “I want to tell my mom that I love her” after hearing this song. Which is really amazing, that a song can make you feel that. That it can remind you to tell someone “I love you” or remind you to not be very jealous or to respect the place that you’re inhabiting. I think when you see this person singing about it really naturally - It’s just part of their life, it’s nothing to them - that it makes you think more about the meaning of the song.

Performer: Tulgaa Date: November 2015 Location: Ulaan-Uul soum, Khuvsgul aimag The Darkhad are a separate ethnicity from the ethnic majority in Mongolia, the Khalkh, but still herd the same animals as Khalkha herders; sheep, goats, yak, cows, and horses. Tulgaa explained that Darkhad folk songs are different than Mongolian folk songs because they don’t have any composers. Anonymous herders make up the words. The first song is about having pride for land and family. The second song is about being older, but remembering youth. I love this recording because it was actually the second take. The first take was done inside. After we finished, I told Tulgaa about my website (mongolmusicarchive.com) and asked if it would be okay to include his performance. He said it would be fine, but quickly decided he wanted to perform again, but outside. I think this speaks volumes to what my project is attempting to showcase. For so many Mongolian herders, “outside” is their stage. These performances are important to capture as that stage continually shrinks and as fewer Mongolians remain herders.

So the fact that they’re not professional musicians opens you up more the advice or the message of their song?

Yeah, when they’re out there herding and their singing, they’re only singing what they want, there is no other motive other than entertaining themselves. So they sing a song when the lyrics of the song are what they are feeling. When that guy is thinking about his mother, he sings that song. When he is appreciative for the valley he lives in or he misses relatives, he might sing a different song. But professional musicians, like it is always to make money, ya know? And they definitely have a connection to their music, but I think having that separation where it is purely, like fully just-for-me, it makes me take the advice or hear the message a lot more.

That makes me think about like when you see musicians play live a lot. Lets say they are playing 100 shows on a tour and they are singing the same song. It may be a really meaningful song, telling someone that you love them or providing advice, but because they are singing it every night over and over and over again, there is something about that that feels artificial. As opposed to somebody whose like, “I’m just out and about and this is what I feel like singing, my livelihood is not attached to this in anyway”

Yeah, I think that’s accurate. But I’m also hesitant to say something is artificial when I’m talking about someone’s culture. I think that’s something we have to be careful about. I would say the biggest message I take away is the positive, what I do get from these herders, as opposed to what I don’t get from professional musicians.

Sure, you don’t want to be disparaging other musicians, you just think there is something important to be captured in the way herders perform music.

So what are the future plans for Mongol Music Archive?

Yeah, I’ll be adding tons of music over the next few months. I’m also having this photo exhibit that will hopefully fund my life for the next month or two, which is probably possible because Wyoming, where I live, is super cheap. So I want to finish that, and I think I need some time to sit with it and think about how I’m going to compile it, because I do want to do something more than the website with it. So whether it’s publishing some stories, not necessarily about Mongol Music Archive, but stories that incorporate the music I captured or specific experiences, or culmination of experiences with the music tied into it, I have some specific ideas already. But yeah, just sitting with it. Nine months in a foreign country is a big deal, and when you have been solely focused on this one thing for nine months, I think I need to step back and think about what I’m going to do. 

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See more of the Mongol Music Archive and like it on Facebook.

Transverso's Guide to Pitchfork Music Festival 2016

Chicago is no stranger to music festivals. From Lollapalooza to Spring Awakening, the city boasts such an impressive lineup of lineups that it takes a uniquely impressive roster for a festival to stand out.

But over the past 11 years, Pitchfork Music Festival has carved out a space as one of the most consistent and distinctive weekends of the festival season, and it returns to Chicago’s Union Park this weekend to protect that title with a lineup that’s as confounding as it is exciting. After all, what other festival would juxtapose the aggravated experimentation of Girl Band and Oneohtrix Point Never with the powerhouse pop of Shamir and Carly Rae Jepsen? What other mainstream festival inexplicably devotes a sizable portion of its lineup to intricate jazz acts like Sun Ra and Kamasi Washington? What other festival hears Sufjan Stevens’ pained folk opus Carrie & Lowell and thinks “Now THIS is headliner material!”?

Yet for all of Pitchfork’s idiosyncrasies, there are some unfortunate elements it shares with its summer festival brethren: oppressive heat, unruly crowds, and a mystifying undercard filled with bands you’ve never heard before. While we can’t help you with the first two, we can offer a carefully curated guide to this year's lineup that highlights who we're most excited to see, as well as some excellent acts you might not be as familiar with yet. If you saw two bands you love on the schedule and impulse-bought a weekend pass, this is your chance to do your homework before gates open. Eventually you'll be able to tell your friends, “Oh, I saw [insert buzz band here] before they blew up,” as you’re waiting to see them headline a much larger festival, and after all, isn’t that what Pitchfork is all about?

Fire up the playlist below and check out Transverso's staff picks for this weekend:

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FRIDAY

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Car Seat Headrest (Red Stage - 3:30)

In the recent avalanche of acclaim for his excellent Matador-released duo of LPs Teens of Style and Teens of Denial, Car Seat Headrest mastermind Will Toledo has been repeatedly praised for restoring dignity to that once-mighty staple Indie Guitar Rock. Whether or not “white dudes with guitars” is a genre that needed any help is debatable, but it is notable that CSH is opening the festival; after all, this is a band trafficking in a sound that once defined blogs like Pitchfork, and it’s a band that does it better than pretty much anyone else. Toledo is operating at the top of his game, both as a dynamic bandleader and a bluntly engaging songwriter, and you owe it to yourself to show up early and see him in action. (Julian Axelrod)

Whitney (Blue Stage - 4:15)

Buzz bands, man; they build and build into this ascendent phoenix, and at no point does anyone entertain any sort of demise (who would be liable for blame here... oh yeah, Pitchfork). Whatever the year, there's going to be one or two groups that materialize seemingly out of nowhere, and everyone believes "this might be the one." Which one, you might ask - no one really knows; it all seems vacantly aspirational. Following the Chicago locals' debut Light Upon the Lake, Whitney is 2016's buzz band du jour, but there's something about the former UMO man Julian Ehrlich-fronted melancholic machine that feels more purposeful than buzz bands passed. It's as if the mellifluous tones act as a misdirect from the calculated drive that "will be the one" to overcome the all too familiar buzz band descendent. Plus, they've got some dulcet guitar tones from Smith Westerns veteran Max Kakacek to go along with euphonious falsetto of Ehrlich. (Sean McHugh)

Moses Sumney (Blue Stage - 5:15)

There are some musicians whose make music so personal and achingly intimate that it seems almost perverse to see them perform in a festival setting (and many of them are playing Pitchfork this year!). But something about Moses Sumney’s music feels perfectly suited to a mid-day festival spot, where audience members can sway along as his ghostly falsetto dances around his hymn-like rhythms like an afternoon wind through the trees surrounding the Blue Stage. The California singer-songwriter doesn’t have much recorded output (he’s currently working on his debut 7” with Grizzly Bear’s Chris Taylor) but the opportunity to witness an astounding talent like Sumney before his inevitable ascent is hard to pass up. (Julian Axelrod)

Twin Peaks (Red Stage - 5:30)

Is scuzz rock a thing yet? Who knows? At this point, it seems almost certain there's going to be some reticent all-father of scuzz rock that will surely have a "sublime" rock-doc chronicling said public reservation, but for the time being, modern scuzz rock has been catapulted to the media-savvy masses due in large part to Chicagoans Twin Peaks. Lynch-ian name aside, the dudes in Twin Peaks will crush the grimiest hits only to turn around and slice you with a deft riff of garage punk wonderfully debased by scuzz pedals. Its a masterclass in punk rock sensibilities, with all five members likely to make a mockery of the pretension expected at Pitchfork. (Sean McHugh)

Mick Jenkins (Blue Stage - 6:15)

Let's be real here, Pitchfork is lacking heavily in the arena of hip-hop, rap, of urban culture in general. Feel free to attribute such a fact to manicured digits of Conde Naste, or perhaps this year was "thin" on "quality" rap artists. (Oh wait, it wasn't/isn't.) Thank goodness for Mick Jenkins - the bracket-ly inclined rapper from Chicago is bringing some swerve to a considerably emotionally, consciously, emphatically tepid lineup on the first day of Pitchfork. Expect to see Jenkins finally perform some tracks from his recently completed [T]he [H]ealing [C]omponent, along with tracks of the stellar [W]ater and [W]aves. (Sean McHugh)

Carly Rae Jepsen (Green Stage - 6:25)

Is Carly Rae Jepsen an unknown artist waiting for her big break? No. Is she on an independent label? She is not. Is it weird that she’s playing this festival at all? Yes, it is very fucking weird. But put aside your preconceived notions about labels, genre, and fame and put on “Run Away With Me”. Listen to the opening saxophone wail, the breathy vocals and breathless crescendo, the heart-stopping beat before the massive chorus. Imagine experiencing that live in a giant park with a bunch of sweaty Pitchfork readers. Savor how weird and wonderful it is that one of the most prominent pop stars of our time is on a festival lineup with Sun Ra Arkestra. Pitchfork Fest only happens once a year – why not have some fun? (Julian Axelrod)

Broken Social Scene (Red Stage - 7:20)

One of the greatest indie bands no one seems to talk about, know about, or understand. At the very least, the Canadian collective has seen a revolving door of members that have gone on to become Feist, Metric, Stars, Tortoise, and Jason Collett. They've put out a handful of some of the greatest indie-records of the past two decades - You Forgot It People in 2002, and a self-titled LP in 2005 - and yet people still seem to have overlooked every last ounce of great music BSS has produced. While the complete lineup for BSS has not yet been determined (there have been times where only six members play a set, and nineteen the next), don't be surprised to see appearances from some of the larger names borne out of BSS (looking at you, Leslie Feist). So for the love of all that is good in the world, go pay your respects to your indie deities and see Broken Social Scene. (Sean McHugh)

Shamir (Blue Stage - 8:15)

Hi, Hi, howdy, howdy, hi, hi; Shamir is playing Pitchfork Friday night. This is going to be a dance party unseen by any other act sharing the Friday evening bill with Shamir. I highly doubt you're going to see any new-age Madonna vogueing mixed with Harlem Fela Kuti at Beach House or Twin Peaks, but you will definitely see it in one way shape or form at Shamir's set. Still running off the power of Ratchet, Shamir's sweet demeanor on stage mixed with the playful panache of his lyricism will undoubtedly make for a fun time while closing out the festival for the evening or finding some emotional respite before heading into the vibe-heavy Beach House set. (Sean McHugh)

Beach House (Green Stage - 8:30)

Rarely will you see a band perform so gracefully despite being so far out of their element as Beach House at an outdoor festival. In an interview with Pitchfork themselves, guitarist Alex Scally recounted how the 2007 edition served as a disastrous first festival appearance for the dreamy Baltimorean duo, as they failed to adjust to the conflicting noise and quick pace. Fast forward to 2016, and coming off the back of a one-two punch of stunningly gorgeous albums in Depression Cherry and Thank Your Lucky Stars, the pair are undoubtedly set to put in a far more veteran shift in their fourth Pitchfork appearance nearly a decade later. While the exposed stages of the outdoors will never offer peak conduciveness to the trancelike Beach House experience (and you do owe it to yourself to witness them at their best), having seen them at both ends of the spectrum from Bonnaroo's afternoon chaos to an intimate, dark theatre, I can attest even their lowest point is still swirling somewhere up in the loveliest clouds. (Weston Pagano)

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SATURDAY

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Circuit Des Yeux (Green Stage - 1:00)

Oh boy, here you go folks - if you fancy yourself an aficionado of good or "hip" music, or if you're one of those jagoffs that loves to say "I saw them before they were big," then here's your chance. Circuit Des Yeux is the work of Jackie Lynn, a highly prophesied Gemini out of Franklin, TN, that has since wandered her way up to Chicago to bring her femme fatale experimentalism to Pitchfork. Think if David Bowie met Roseanne Cash did tabs upon tabs; their vision quest brought them to Circuit Des Yeux. Its going to be a guaranteed weird old time. (Sean McHugh)

RP Boo (Blue Stage - 1:45)

One of the egregiously overlooked pioneers of Chicago footwork, RP Boo is going to bring some heavy grooves to Pitchfork to break up all that indie rock and brooding. Its probably going to be a small crowd at RP Boo's set, but that's fine by him, because Kavain Space is accustomed to being underrated and flipped over, but don't expect his music to be any sort of by-product of such an unfortunate reality. Be ready to dance your ass off at this set. (Sean McHugh)

Kevin Morby (Green Stage - 2:30)

You may know Kevin Morby from his stints in bands like The Babies and Woods (who also play Pitchfork this year), or you may know him from his excellent solo career. But you don’t have to know him from Adam to enjoy his warm, lived-in folk rock, which recalls the likes of Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen in its lyrical specificity. (Check out “Dorothy,” a love song so heartfelt and tender you don’t even notice it’s about a guitar.) If you’re trying to kill time on a warm festival afternoon, it’s hard to do better than Morby’s propulsive, sprawling Americana. (Julian Axelrod)

Royal Headache (Blue Stage - 2:45)

A gang of punks comes to America from Australia. They call themselves Shogun, Law, Joe and Shorty. They proceed to fuck shit up. If this sounds more like the plot of a Mad Max sequel than the backstory of a Pitchfork act, that’s because Royal Headache are not your average buzz band. Over the course of just two albums, the group has perfected their signature brand of tuneful, heartfelt garage rock, bringing the acidity and wit of '70s punks like the Buzzcocks into the 21st century. If nothing else, you should check out their set to witness Shogun’s throat-scraping howl in person. (Julian Axelrod)

Savages (Green Stage - 4:15)

Go to Savages' set, for the love all things that are punk rock and not indie, go to Savages' set. Jehnny Beth (who recently made non-news with her "feud" with fellow fest act Sufjan Stevens) and her cohorts in Savages put on one of the best and most impressive live performances in terms of bravado and pure wall of sound fury. There's no frills of "hey guys, we're so honored to be here," but rather an unabashed smash-a-bottle-over-your-head existentialism that is a right of passage brilliance. Savages are arguably one of, if not the best live band on the festival circuit in 2016, so consider their set to be a nice upper before you head into the smooth grooves and grinds of, say, Dev Hynes. (Sean McHugh)

Blood Orange (Red Stage - 5:15)

Dev Hynes, otherwise has known as Blood Orange, distills what it means to have a contemporary musical sensibility. Drawing from everything, whether it’s post-punk, '80s soul, pop, and funk, free jazz, or the Golden Age of hip-hop, Blood Orange isn’t afraid to take genre and obliterate it. Coming off his critically acclaimed 3rd studio album, Freetown Sound, Dev has mastered his craft and his message. If there was ever a time to see him, now is the time, and like Kendrick Lamar, Blood Orange’s music is dialed in on the current state of affairs in this country. Do your do-diligence a favor by seeing this artist perform. Also, the man can dance. (Andrew Meriwether)

Brian Wilson performing Pet Sounds (Red Stage - 7:25)

This will be short - it doesn't matter who you are, what music you prefer - go see Brian Wilson. He's playing arguably the most formative pop record in all of music, Pet Sounds, in its 50th ANNIVERSARY, its a modern masterpiece, and a relic of what led to all this indie nonsense we listen to now. Go see Brian Wilson, you dopes. (Sean McHugh)

Anderson Paak (Blue Stage - 7:45)

I’ve never scheduled a music festival before. It seems like a tough job; no matter where and when you put each act, people are going to be upset that two of their favorite bands are playing at the same time. That said, what were the festival organizers thinking when they scheduled ascendant singer-rapper-musician Anderson Paak to play opposite Brian Wilson? Did they not think these two polymath masters of California soul would have any shared audience? Regardless, Paak’s set is required viewing for anyone who couldn’t care less about the Beach Boys. On his sun-kissed opus Malibu, he gleefully skips between sounds and styles, displaying a disregard for genre that comes with knowing he excels at everything he tries. If you don’t want to spend your Saturday night seeing a legend’s last bow, you can spend it watching a legend in the making. (Julian Axelrod)

Sufjan Stevens (Green Stage - 8:30)

Let's be honest, if you read Transverso, you're probably a Sufjan Stan. So you're already planning on bawling your eyes out at his set, as you should. It's a no brainer, and if you skip it, you might actually be brain dead. (Sean McHugh)

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SUNDAY

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Kamasi Washington (Red Stage - 3:20)

Its amazing to consider the fact that someone who is likely to go down as the finest modern neo-afro-jazz performer of a generation keeps getting thrown into such shitty festival slots. Kamasi's 2015 release The Epic is already one of the greatest albums of the decade, and will likely continue suit to become one of the best in the first half of the first century of the new millennium. Expect to be torn about by torrid saxophone and heaving afro-beat fusion only to be rematerialized by neo-classical soul that only Kamasi could provide. (Sean McHugh)

NAO (Blue Stage - 3:45)

Hey you hipster dopes! Here's another artist playing Pitchfork that (if you're lucky) you'll happen upon and two years from now, gleefully gloat about having seen her before she blew up! Or you'll just lie, because you know she was on the bill, but you didn't go because you actually just listen to the same homogenized aesthetic of music! Neo Jessica Joshua is going to break onto the scene like no other electro-funk artist has. She encompasses the pure new age R&B revivalism that music counter culture has so willfully embraced, and will undoubtedly usher in a new era of pop and R&B sensibilities to trip-hop and the like. (Sean McHugh)

Empress Of (Blue Stage - 4:45)

The Chicago Reader recently published a piece criticizing the gender disparity of Pitchfork’s lineup, and while the festival is definitely lacking in female artists, there are plenty of incredible women scattered throughout the lineup. Take Lorely Rodriguez, who records thoughtful, incisive electropop under the moniker Empress Of. Rodriguez’s songs play with a subtle tension between listener and artist, from her frantic beats to her pained cries to the topics she addresses in her music, such as gender roles and class disparity. She's also coming off a recent feature in Blood Orange's impressive Freetown Sound, and you can see her on Sunday to prove that incredible artists can always draw a festival audience, regardless of gender. (Julian Axelrod)

Neon Indian (Red Stage - 5:15)

Here's one of the most indomitable indie-pop electro bands to cut their teeth in the post-Aughts era, and they just continually manage to get wedged in between other sets for one reason or another. But that never stopped Alan Palomo and co. from putting on a hella good show, and put on a good show they will. Their 2015 release, Vega Intl. Night School was criminally overlooked by many a mediocre media outlet, but look out for standout tracks from the record like "Smut!" and "61 Cygni Ave" in the live set to keep you more than just interested. (Sean McHugh)

Jeremih (Green Stage - 6:15)

Every year, it seems like the indie crowd decides it would be ironically funny, or charitable (get over yourselves) to randomly select an early-Aughts R&B stalwart and suddenly plaster the "cool" ascription upon them. 2014 it was The Dream, 2015 T-Pain, and it looks like 2016 has seen Jeremih receive the indifferent title. Whether you're up to snuff on your knowledge of early-Aughts R&B or not, you have got to see Jeremih for the deep cuts off of his self-titled and stay for the dark hour virility of Late Night as well as Jeremih's rumored collaborations with PARTYNEXTDOOR. (Sean McHugh)

Thundercat (Blue Stage - 6:45)

It’s rare for session players to attain solo stardom, and that feat is even rarer for session bassists. But most musicians don’t have the vision, talent and ambition of Stephen Bruner, aka Thundercat. Whether you know him from his work with Kendrick Lamar and Flying Lotus, or his own jams like “Oh Sheit It’s X,” Bruner is a force to be reckoned with live, wielding his four-string like a weapon and leveling crowds with intricate basslines. There’s a good chance you won’t see anything else like Thundercat all weekend. (Julian Axelrod)

FKA Twigs (Green Stage - 8:30)

Non-conformism has become a little overwrought with this current generation of "don't you dare put me in a category" generation of pop-artists, but they all inevitably wind up being pretty much one in the same. FKA Twigs, however, is unequivocally her own entity, to the point of which it seems almost as if Twigs' role as pioneer pop fatalist has seen the likes of Madonna and Beyonce try and mimic (and of course, fail). The former choreographer not only has sumptuous and tempestuous post-R&B beats to help fuel the live performance, but her falsetto is so enviable, its hard to picture anything other than a cherubim uttering at the same octave. (Sean McHugh)

Oneohtrix Point Never (Blue Stage - 8:45)

You're looking at one of the most acclaimed electronic artists in the history of the genre in Daniel Lopatin, and you're getting a chance to hear one of the seminal genre records in a decade live - what more could you need to be brought to the set? (Sean McHugh)

Wild Beasts Aren't the Only Animals in New "Big Cat" Video

Wild Beasts reaffirm their position at the "top of the food chain" with the new video for second Boy King single and opening track, "Big Cat." Directed by Pablo Maestres and shot outside Barcelona, the "Get My Bang" follow-up shows the band on a curious car trip set most prominently to Hayden Thorpe's sultry vocals and a steady percussion backing, before concluding with a coyote standoff. Only when face to face, Wild Beast to wild beast, are you then treated to a brief glimpse of some sharp guitar fangs that leave you wanting more.

Thorpe explains,

“If ‘Get My Bang’ was a song of the id then ‘Big Cat’ is the ego. It marked a breakthrough in the writing process for the album, defining the swagger and attitude that would come to shape ‘Boy King.’ He is all powerful, but at what price?”

"Big Cat" is indeed an apt metaphor for a band named as they are, and their already well-exhibited seductive tendencies seem positively set to prowl on this forthcoming LP. "It takes a lot of love, baby / To love a big cat / Are you okay with that?" Thorpe coos. Such dominance isn't for everyone, but Wild Beasts suavely continue to assume the role with natural, irresistible ease.

Boy King is due out August 5 via Domino.

The Emerging Place of Hip-Hop in the Culinary Sphere

Eddie Huang - host of Viceland's Huang's World and owner of East Village restaurant BaoHaus. (Photo: Huang's World - Vice Media LLC)

This past year, two unique television programs under the same network rocked food television with their immense popularity as Viceland’s Huang’s World and Fuck, That’s Delicious built upon the successful template established by the contemporary icon of food TV, Anthony Bourdain. The punk rock, culturally adventurous, and politically daring culinary bad-boy earned the Travel Channel degrees of edge and grit previously perceived as unattainable for the network, an especially notable feat for Bourdain’s No Reservations considering its adjacent air time to the program of lame-dad, defiler of the King’s English Andrew Zimmern. Eventually moving to CNN, who realized Bourdain’s ambitions to film more dangerous locations, Bourdain saw continued success as the host of Parts Unknown, winning four Emmys while redefining the palate for televised food and travel culture.

Both Eddie Huang of Huang's World and rapper Action Bronson of Fuck, That's Delicious have adopted Bourdain's persona as the anti-establishment host with tactful yet unembellished diction. What Huang and Bronson have revamped, to their advantage, is the aesthetic, exchanging Bourdain’s literary punk appeal for a hip-hop oriented experience with an accessible level of sophistication. This immigrant American, hip-hop devotional, and most of all, understated appeal is the primary difference between Bourdain and the two aforementioned personalities. Whereas Bourdain’s shows could easily rely on the chef’s French-style culinary training, Huang’s World and Fuck, That’s Delicious treat their hosts’ formal culinary backgrounds with subtle acknowledgement, presenting Huang and Bronson mostly as home-trained cooks/hip-hop fanatics instead.

Anthony Bourdain (Photo: Parts Unknown - CNN)

Where Bourdain, Huang, and Bronson’s shows win with audiences lies in the authenticity of the hosts. Regardless of punk or hip-hop sensibilities, the congruency between hosts’ televised and real-life personalities has risen in value as a commodity in food television. It is this element of the true-to-form host that has won Huang’s World and Fuck, That’s Delicious Anthony Bourdain’s approval. Though Bourdain’s praise does not reference either host’s character as a hip-hop aficionado, the transitioning popularity from Bourdain’s punk-framed socio-political interrogation of cuisine to the new frontier of hip-hop contextualized cuisine/culture is a trend that is difficult to overlook. And yet, the hip-hop approach to cuisine and culture makes so much sense, as much, if not more sense, than Bourdain’s brand of punk.

As Americans of Albanian-Jewish (Bronson) and Taiwanese (Huang) heritage who embrace hip-hop, the two not only attest to the cultural intermingling which occurs within hip-hop, but manifest it in their shows, and do so shamelessly. Never is there an episode in which Huang isn’t walking the streets of a Eurocentric town dressed in an oversized jersey and Jordans. Similarly, cameras follow both Bronson and his Mr. Wonderful tour supporting posse: the Alchemist, Big Body Bes, and Meyhem Lauren – a multicultural collective who accompany Bronson at all times, even if they sometimes contribute absolutely nothing to the culinary conversation. Through their shows, these hosts advocate the embrace of cultural diversity as experienced through the enjoyment of food. Their outlook exploits the parallels between hip-hop’s transcendence of racial barriers and the expansion of cultural insight afforded by travel-dining. Understanding where these two shows have placed hip-hop in relation to cuisine is best accessed through Huang’s assimilation of the two – food, like hip-hop, is a culture for outsiders who inevitably find a commonality with the broader community.

Action Bronson - rapper and host of Viceland's Fuck, That's Delicious. (Photo: VICE Eats - Vice Media LLC)

My own realization of the appropriateness of hip-hop as a platform for cultural exploration through food struck me, ironically enough, as I followed a destination-dining rabbit hole I discovered in the Montreal episode of Parts Unknown. Near the culmination of my tour de Montréal, I took a cab from the Gay Village to Little Burgundy for my second service reservation at Joe Beef, the highly esteemed feeding ground of choice for Montréalais omnivores, regarded as one of the one hundred best restaurants in the world. I read the dimly lit menu written in cursive French on the chalkboard spanning the entire left wall, extracting what the three years of French I had taken in college thus far allowed me to. I curated my choices with wild game and gluttonous excess in mind, invoking scenes of seared foie gras and copious helpings of black truffles on a table set before Anthony Bourdain and Joe Beef owners David McMillan and Fédéric Morin.

Awaiting my meal at the bar, the ambience of the bistro did its part in stimulating my anticipation. Deep cuts by Mos Def and the Roots played over table conversation, consistent with jazz-based instrumentals accented with boom bap percussion and intricate rhymes by Yasiin Bey and Black Thought. Theirs was the socially conscious and introspective lyrical matter which primed my appetite for true discovery, in this case, the best of French-Canadian cuisine as served by the most famous restaurant in Canada. The intended effect achieved, it was the best meal I’d ever had in my entire life thus far.

I began with oysters from Nova Scotia, Massachusetts, and Connecticut. My waitress Sarah, a fun, helpful, mildly flirtatious Montréalaise girl, then served an expectation-exceeding homemade spinach pappardelle with a red wine ragù and escargot. The broad pappardelle noodle attained a perfect balance between the heartiness of the pasta and the richness of the escargot ragù. “Stop trying to hide it,” Sarah told me as I twirled speckled green noodles around the prongs of my fork, “your smile is from cheek to cheek.” Next I had a venison torte whose layers of venison, foie gras, onions, and a braised anna potato fanned atop the dish were succulent in each bite, melting in my mouth with savory excess.

Anthony Bourdain with Joe Beef owners Fred Morin (center) and Dave McMillan (right). (Photo: Parts Unknown - CNN)

Joe Beef had won me over with the pappardelle, but it was the venison torte which compelled me to commit to what was unraveling as the best meal I’d ever had. Fittingly, “Juicy” began to play on the speakers, imparting a celebratory sense of triumph that could only be experienced through Biggie’s boastful assertions and confident command of cadence on the song. With my bill already nearing 100 Canadian dollars, I ordered a panko-crusted head cheese croquette with a mustard seed dijon, because (in a matter-of-fact way of phrasing it and in homage to a rap legend of my native Bay Area) I was “feelin’ myself.”

I’ve expended all words that could possibly be used to describe the head cheese croquette, mainly because it is hard to describe the denouement of a meal when the last entry isn’t quite a dessert. “I always love a bit of head cheese for dessert” Sarah joked. Fuck it, I knew what I wanted and while I’m speaking bluntly, the head cheese was damn good and didn’t disappoint.

After the meal I had an over-the-bar conversation with the host that received me at the door on who was the best rapper currently active: Drake or Kendrick Lamar. I argued for my West Coast compatriot while my counterpart presented a case for Drizzy. I was surprised that anyone would try to match Drake’s lyricism to Kendrick Lamar’s rhetoric; however, in a testimony to hip-hop’s seamless cultural fusion, I had completely forgotten that I was speaking to a Canadian. Perhaps the ambiguity of national identification would not have been the same had I been speaking to a national of a country across waters, but French-Canada was a particularly striking cultural anomaly not only for Canada but for all of North America.

I learned many things from the meal. Where politics is in some cultures considered to be a topic unsuitable for dinner table conversation, hip-hop, more than other genres of music due to its inherent accommodation of debate, can serve well as a mealtime topic of conversation. To a larger degree, hip-hop has the potential to invite people into culinary exchange the same way it has ushered outsiders into a historically African-American culture. From a music perspective, my meal at Joe Beef demonstrated the ability of hip-hop to prepare an appetite and celebrate the universal satisfaction of a good meal. Whether or not hip-hop can establish a reputation as a genre fit for curating a fine meal is left to restaurateurs across the world to determine, but I know that its potential to establish a dining ambiance is not accidental, nor is it some unnaturally-forced experimentation. I know, from passing the kitchen hallway on my way out of Joe Beef and seeing the words “CD playing” on the soundsystem monitors.

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See trailers for both Huang's World and Fuck, That's Delicious below. 

The Avalanches' 'Wildflower' is a Psychedelic Masterpiece for the DJ Age

Denied a new studio album for nearly the entirety of the new millennium, it’s now been close to 16 years since the Avalanches left us last, with only a few incredible mixes, scattered DJ sets, and inklings of rumors about a follow-up to tease the sizable fanbase of the Australian group. As collaborators started leaking, the group finally dropped “Frankie Sinatra” at the beginning of the summer, with the full LP, Wildflower, arriving in a month. Despite surely being weighed down by the expectations, rumors, hype-train, whatever you choose to call it, the direction The Avalanches chose isn’t quite analogous to the now-classic Since I Left You, but the record we’ve been give is utterly unique, gorgeous, fun and completely worthy of it’s legendary predecessor. Now, The Avalanches have released one of the best records of both 2000 and 2016.

Crate diggers beware - there’s even a track that features zero (!) samples on this album (Spoiler: it’s “Colours” and it’s great). Wildflower de-emphasizes the sample-crazy element of the first record in favor of a tonal consistency anchored by a summer psychedelic vibe fitting for its release date. Perhaps the album that comes to mind most is The Beatles’ Abbey Road, a work that also maintains a remarkable consistency of tone despite its diverse songwriting chops and scatterbrained tendencies, but anchored by warm, gentle psychedelia. So strong is the comparison between the two records, that Abbey Road’s opening track “Come Together” is sung by a children’s choir in “The Noisy Eater."

However, psychedelic music is hardly the only genre that appears over Wildflower’s runtime. Alongside The Avalanches’ traditional dance music roots (across all eras), calypso, late-80’s rap, folk, funk, disco and even classical music make appearances. Fans shouldn’t be too afraid the group has lost its roots, though, and the true opener is a good indication of this: “Because of Me” opens with a gorgeous soul sample, but cedes most of its inventiveness after the initial sample over to New York hip-hop duo Camp Lo, who bring their A-game to the unforgettable beat and make it their own.

Rappers rule Wildflower. Danny Brown drops 3 of the most memorable verses on the album on “Frankie Sinatra” and “The Wozard of Iz," while Biz Markie’s delivery of the wonderful, playful “The Noisy Eater” is vintage hip-hop joy, and it’s one of the album’s best songs, and easily it’s silliest moment. These MCs (along with the previously mentioned rappers, MF Doom, and A.Dd+ also appear) are put on beats that are outside their comfort zones, but the group put them in their best position to succeed, re-contextualizing hip-hop in diverse ways, such as the wonderful “Live a Lifetime Love," which samples Beach Boys-esque psych as the backdrop for a drug (and later drug-bust) anthem.

Other big collaborators that feature prominently on the record include Mercury Rev’s Jonathan Donahue, and Toro y Moi’s Chaz Bundick. Bundick only sings one track (the gorgeous “If I Was a Folkstar”, an ode to his now-wife), but it’s an absolute triumph, fusing both artists’ dance sensibilities into a perfect, subtle groove. Donahue dominates the latter half of the record, including “Harmony” and “Kaleidoscopic Lovers," that forms the backbone of the record’s psych influences. Mercury Rev fans will even notice Donahue’s singing saw that appears on that groups’ most famous records. It’s these songs that start to trigger the album’s wonderful final quarter, whose muted conclusion feels like the logical conclusion of a perfect summer day.

It’s worth remembering that The Avalanches are a product of DJ culture, and know so much about how to a structure a record. As more-than capable DJs, The Avalanches do a great job managing the ebb and flow of a performance through diversity of songs and giving listeners a little time to breathe. Wildflower succeeds in spades in both of these fronts. To combat the relatively long run-time, The Avalanches rarely spend time on one idea before moving to the next. At first hint of too much of a good thing, a new shiny object appears to fix your ears upon. As for space and air, the record uses vocal samples and small instrumental pieces to break up the record, and they feel just as essential and enjoyable as the other pieces of the record, giving the record an expansive feel without ever overstaying their welcome. The one time the ideas hang around a bit is towards the beginning of the record, where both “Frankie Sinatra” and “Subways” feel a little too long compared to both songs around them and relative to the number of elements in their tracks. “Sinatra” gets such wonderful vocal performances that this feels very nitpicky, but “Subways” fails to justify including a separate outro included. However, these are minor quips on a wonderfully sequenced record. In particular, the subdued ending works beautifully, as Silver Jews’ David Berman delivers a stunning spoken-word performance over one of the quietest pieces off the record, “Saturday Night Inside Out,” a perfect track for a summer twilight turning to dusk.

So the record we got may not have been the record we expected, but in many ways it’s the sum of something more. While it may frustrate those looking for a frantic atmosphere or a more plunderphonics-influenced sound, Wildflower’s winning ideas, great collaborations and excellent sequencing have made it one of 2016’s most essential records. It’s the perfect record to play on an sweaty afternoon on your porch with your friends before going out in the sweltering heat. You can finally stop thinking about Since I Left You and just enjoy what's here now.

Diane Coffee's Shaun Fleming Learns He Has a Spotify Page and Explains Why 'Everybody's A Good Dog'

Panache and personality are two things that Shaun Fleming has in spades. Following earlier stints as a Disney voice actor and Foxygen drummer, his near three year run as Diane Coffee has seen him and his Good Dogs cover a lot of ground and challenge a lot of conceptions. Fleming is a performer at his core, but his approach to the consciousness should be noted as well - a beguiling sort of romanticism with a hint of jocularity - he's a new age amalgamation of David Bowie, Kevin Barnes, Prince, and Meatloaf, but with his own psychedelic sensibilities. Diane Coffee's live sets precede the band's reputation (arguably one of the best live bands on the tour circuit), and Transverso spoke with Fleming before he embarked upon yet another journey of "a lot of peace, a lot of love, a lot of happiness, and a lot of costume changes" this summer tour.

Diane Coffee, 'Everybody's a Good Dog' out September 4th on Western Vinyl Created by Blockhouse Films (http://blockhouse.media/) and Melinda Danielson Director: Andy Beargie Director of Photography: Kevin Winkler 1st AC: Zac Canale 2nd AC: Graham Singleton Editors: Kevin Winkler Zac Canale Andy Beargie Casting and Costume Design: Melinda Danielson Producers: Andy Beargie Melinda Danielson iTunes: hyperurl.co/khcay4 Amazon: amzn.com/B00YW5R4M6 WV: westernvinyl.com/shop/wv132.php Diane Coffee Artist Page http://westernvinyl.com/artists/diane-coffee Website https://www.dianecoffee.com/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/dianecoffeeband Twitter https://twitter.com/dianecoffee1 Instagram https://instagram.com/shaunfleming/ LYRICS: How can I help you?

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TRANSVERSO: How are you enjoying the last day before kicking off your tour in Lexington tomorrow?

SHAUN FLEMING: I’m doing alright man, [it's] nice hanging out in the backyard. I’m in Bloomington, Indiana. We actually have a couple days off, so I’m just hanging out at home - I’ve been living here for close to three years now.

How do you like it?

I love it man! I really, really love it. It's definitely a lot different than New York/LA, and all of those other places. But it’s a great spot, it's really cool.

I’ve heard it’s a great spot, there’s a lot of cool music up there – yourself included.

Yeah man!

So Diane Coffee is a singular name, but you play with a backing band – I think you’ve referred to them as The Good Dogs.

Oh yeah, yeah. They’re my Good Dogs.

So do they make Diane Coffee a full-blown solo act that happens to have a backing band, or do you consider it to be more of a collective entity?

Um, Yes. [Laughs] It’s a little bit of both, you know? Diane Coffee – the name is kind of a way to put a label on a feeling. It's that feeling that I get – and a lot of people get – when I’m performing. Its that performance element. It's that same kind of person and you're at a show – maybe you’re quiet at home, but then you’re in that element where that sort of voodoo comes over you and you just start singing at the top of your lungs, moving and grooving. Its that, and it just so happens that [Diane Coffee] is the name I’ve given it. It's something that I’ve definitely embodied, but its also The Good Dogs, we’re all for Diane Coffee, and the audience at a show, they’re Diane Coffee, we’re all Diane Coffee.

Do you ever have shows where people come up to you after a set having expected someone other than who you are?

I mean, not so much any more. There were a lot of people who came when we first started playing that came and were like “Oh, my friend told me to come and see this band and I thought it was going to be some female lounge singer,” but, not so much any more. I mean, band names aren’t really that important – at least to me – they’re usually all pretty bad, including mine. I mean, even The Beatles – that’s just a stupid pun – it's like it doesn’t matter, because they’re made fantastic music, and that at the end of the day is what I think is the most important thing. I mean [The Beatles] could have gotten away with anything at this point. But so not that much any more because we’ve been around long enough to where we’ve gained enough of a reputation that people come in knowing the whole deal.

What can you tell me about Harem Scare ‘Em?

Whoa… Whoa dude! Good on you! Good on you doing your research! [Laughs] Harem Scare ‘Em, that’s my very first – I’ll call it a band, but we were like a cover band. We had one or two originals that we tried, but they were just really, really bad, so we just decided to not do that. So it was high school, and we had a talent show coming up, and we were all like “Hey, we all play music, let’s play the show!” But I could barely play the guitar, so I was just front man vibes. We did [The Beatles'] “I Want You (She’s So Heavy),” and we won the talent show. Our principal was like this old hippie, and he was like [imitating voice] “Yeah, we’d love have you do a whole concert of this stuff!” So we were like “Oh god! Okay!” So we learned like an hour of all sorts of – pretty much, we were like a Beatles, Pink Floyd, and Jimi Hendrix cover band – so many things. We did like a 27-minute Beatles medley, which was insane and quite an accomplishment at the time. So we did that, and it was fun, and we were like “the high school band” and it's continued on, and whenever we’re all in town together today we’ll just go to a bar and book a show as Harem Scare ‘Em and do like three hours of covers. It's great, man. I love those guys. Actually, the guitar player’s dad, is the one who arranged all the strings for [Everybody’s a Good Dog]. Steve Hansen is his name. It was great man. It was really cool to work with him, and just kind of have more family connections. I mean, it’s a family album [laughs]. Yeah, so that’s Harem Scare ‘Em – those guys are all great, and they’re just some of the best musicians I’ve ever met.

I noticed on your Spotify profile you only follow three artists – Isaac Hayes, The Isley Brothers, and The Miracles…

I have a Spotify profile!?

You do! And it says that you just follow Isaac Hayes, The Isely Brothers, and The Miracles.

That sounds about right.

Would you count those three as inspirations in some way to how Diane Coffee came about?

Well, I mean yeah, but I’d also count countless others. I mean, I’m influenced by everything that I hear, even if I don’t like it. It's like that would be something that I wouldn’t do, and that’s the only way I would be influenced by that. [Laughs] I mean those guys are definitely… I don’t know why. I don’t really use Spotify all that much, mainly just because my phone is kind of broken – my headphone jack is broken on my phone. I’ve been like listening to CDs in my car, which is cool. So I don’t really use Spotify, and I never really got into it that much, but I know I had to make one for some little promos for Spotify, so I had to have one. We’re kind of veering off point, but yeah, definitely those guys are influences, but I think some bigger influences for this project would be people like Sam Cooke, Diana Ross, people like Prince and Meatloaf and Bowie and The Beatles; these big people who have these really big stage shows and were very flamboyant and broad. I mean, I come from a heavy theatrical background, like a lot of musical theatre and stage shows and I did a lot of improv comedy, so I like a lot of that in performance – theatrics – and that’s something I really wanted at the start of this project. It's just sort of me in general too, it's not like its something that I can just stop doing.

So your stage presence - which is unparalleled in a lot of ways – is that inherent then? Almost kind of conditioned to be theatrical?

Yeah, I don’t know if its been conditioned… that’s the age old question like “Are you born this way or did you come up and figure it out?” I’ve always been wanting to put on little shows and get dressed up and put on my mom’s clothes and all that. Then I sort of came out of my shell in high school, as far as performing in public and I joined a lot of theatre classes and all that. So I don’t know if its always been that way. Wanting to perform and be flamboyant like that has always kind of been something has been a part of my life that I’ve never really gotten to have just free reign and kind of do whatever I really wanted to do until now. [Laughs] I want to make it as big as I can with the means that I have at this point.

Directed & Animated by: Danny Lacy VHS Effects by: Tristan Wheeler http://www.dannydlacy.com http://vevo.ly/YS90Ea

Moving from the live set to the recorded and production side of your music – between your two records, My Friend Fish seems to explore darker musical tones through a lighter narrative lens while Everybody’s a Good Dog almost does the opposite, in the sense that it tackles more complex narrative themes but with a happier disposition. Is that a product of having more time to figure out what Diane Coffee is?

Yeah! Wow! Man, I really like the way you put that! That’s great! I’ve always kind of thought of these two records in the same way. You know, I don’t know if its intentional with that first record – I was kind of in a dark place, just being sick and in new surroundings, just being alone; so that’s kind of how that all came about. But lyrically its still pretty light. But with My Friend Fish I didn’t really know that I was doing a record. It was really quick, and it was more like I was just making songs to kill time. But with [Everybody’s a Good Dog] I got more time to keep thinking about the structure, though for me, [lyrics] are the very, very last thing I do. I always write the lyrics like the day before I put them down.

So, I mean, it's kind of weird – for me I don’t really go into it with an idea, I just kind of go into it with a feeling of the song, and the melody will kind of tell me what the song is about. Then I might kind of have a phrase that’s floating in my head and the whole thing will come from that one little phrase. I just think knowing that I was putting out this record, I wanted to just take a little more time and reflect a little bit more, and figure some more of what you said, more complex narratives. It's kind of hard to say why exactly that happened that way, too. It was just sort of the place I was when this record came out.

That makes total sense. On the same kick – I’ve always been interested in what the process is when someone is laying out the tracklist for a record, particularly the first and final tracks as possible “statements.” Did that notion come to mind when choosing “Spring Breathes” to open Everybody’s a Good Dog and then closing it with “Not That Easy?”

You know, I do like to spend a whole lot of time picking out the order of how these songs are going to appear on the record, but “Spring Breathes” sort of came to me… It's funny, it's like the only song that this has ever really happened to, it actually came to me – that whole intro - it came to me in a dream. I woke up, and I have the funniest voice memo recording of me kind of stumbling through in the middle of the night where I was trying to sing what was going on in my head and like how the song was going to go like [whispering] “Oh yeah, and then it's going to change and it's going to really fast, and then at this point its going to Latin sounding,” you know, [laughs] it was really weird. So I knew that that song – just because of all the changes and just how it was structured – it wouldn’t really fit anywhere else in the record. It kind of had to be first or be last, and that song is definitely kind of about starting over again, and kind of asking yourself these questions about whether or not you’re – in this case its about falling love, again, and whether or not you are in the right place to have another relationship, especially given your career or anything else that may be in your life. And that was kind of the same thing with “Not That Easy,” which was kind of accepting that you are always going to be coming home, and you’re going to have an atypical relationship. So in that way, those two made sense as the very beginning and very end of this huge journey for the record to come that kind of understanding.

It seems like a positive prospect at the beginning – it doesn’t necessarily become negative – but it's certainly more spectral gazing in a sense at the end.

Yeah, for sure. I mean there are bunch of songs that… The record is loosely – there are a few tracks that maybe have slightly differing themes, but for the most part, this record is kind of about examining me personally. My love life, my relationships, entangled with my career, and both things I don’t want to live without. So it's very hard, because they both take up an incredible amount of time and energy, and I don’t want to sacrifice any time on either. You know what I mean?

Oh yeah, absolutely.

And it's something that everyone – it doesn’t matter if they’re doing something else – experiences; there’s almost always going to be something they really love that does the same thing. I’d love to say that I would give everything up for either thing, but its just not true.

I’m sure that’s far more relevant than you could possibly fathom.

[Laughs] I think a lot of people go through that, be it artists, or anyone whose maybe got a hobby that takes up a lot of their time.

I wholeheartedly agree. As far as bookending tacks are concerned – “Hymn” and “Green” on My Friend Fish is one of my favorite beginning/ending pairings on a record.

Thanks man! [Laughing/fake yelling] You’re damn right! You’re damn right!

So with the theatrical inspirations for your live set – you’re a very snappy dresser on stage.

Thank you.

Of course. I assume the background in theatre plays some sort of role in that facet of your live set?

Oh yeah, sure! As far as all the theatrics on stage, I’ve been working a lot with my partner, Melinda Danielson – she goes by Nature’s Whether. She pretty much designs all those costumes. She’s kind of a jack-of-all-trades. You know it sounds kind of bad to say “well she’s just an artist,” you know what I mean? But its true, she does a lot of sort of performance art stuff and then she also does design work for me, and I work very closely with her when we’re coming up with themes for these shows. Like this last one, where I was in this gold costume – and we finally retired that one – but that was all about battling with the masculine and feminine archetypes and halfway through you shed and open up. She pretty much put that whole thing together. So that’s something that we can both do together, and how we both sort of share our artwork. We can both be working, but also have a fun time when we get together. I love what she does. So it's really, really fun to be able to work with someone you love, or with family.

I bet. I’d figure it probably helps further solidify the relationships, in a sense.

Yeah! I don’t know if you knew this, but we did this tour with of Montreal, and David [Barnes, Kevin Barnes’ brother] does all of the costuming and stuff; he’s kind of in charge of that whole world. It's like Kevin’s music and David is art.

Right. Yeah, I saw you guys on that tour.

Yeah man, that was so great. Those guys are so much fun. I love them to death. So that’s really cool that they’re both able to do that – it's like a family affair. So that’s kind of what I’m trying to do with Melinda.

Awesome. I don’t want to try and pull any spoilers or anything – but what can people expect this time around in terms of thematic elements?

You know, this time around – it's still really in the early stages – we wanted to try and get one more thing for summer, but its been hard because we’ve been out on the road so much, so its hard to find time to work something completely new. But the idea behind this new one is that we’re kind of sailors exploring the ethos and we crash land on this crazy island, and we start to learn. It's about acceptance and being able to understand someone else’s culture or ideals and be able to really dive headfirst into that. It's basically like walking in someone else’s shoes. So it's kind of like a journey of discovery and acceptance [laughs] that’s kind of the long and short of it, but still trying to work it out.

Down to the eleventh hour it sounds like.

Yeah, it's like when you’re trying to work out a new song on the road – the only time you have to really practice is like the 10 minutes you have during sound check – so it's like you’re just “I’m going to keep doing this. Maybe it's not ready yet, but I’m going to keep running through it. No we have to fix that, we’ll have to do it tomorrow.” So you’re kind of adding more as you go along, and hopefully it really pans out, but its fun. We ran a version of it just the other night, and it was pretty fun. It gets the audience interaction and it's pretty cool. Its going to be this sort of ever-evolving show; it keeps us on our toes.

So what should we expect from the tour this summer?

It's going to be a journey. A lot of peace, a lot of love, a lot of happiness, and a lot of costume changes.

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Everybody's A Good Dog is out now via Western Vinyl. See Diane Coffee tour dates here.