Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

Saturday, November 12

KURT VILE

Saw him last night at Webster Hall last night. So good.
Charlotte and I say this about a lot of musicians/artists/actors after we see them, but I feel like Kurt and I would be friends if we met.... ha.






A few other notes
-I am envious of his hair
-the amount of hair on stage, between Kurt Vile and The Violators, was reminiscent of Pearl Jam
-He was genuinely gracious to the crowd
(he did this little wave and said thank you a few times)
-I will be playing on repeat

Friday, August 19

KURT COBAIN


I realize this obsession is nearly 20 years late, but the lack of a television growing up and the absence of an older sibling made the 90s a decade that I feel I missed.
But my god, Kurt Cobain is amazing.










(My friend has promised me a 90s cultural-recap one night soon, so I have a feeling there will be more plaid button ups, long greasy hair and doc martens to come...)

Friday, July 1

TUNE IN


Saw him last night in Prospect Park as part of the 'Celebrate Brooklyn' summer concert series. He was great.




Friday, May 6

TUNE IN


Melaena Cadiz working out a new song.

Video courtesy of Mikael Kennedy .

Thursday, March 17

TUNE IN


Wednesday nights at the Jalopy Theatre, Feral Foster hosts and headlines a night of folk music called 'Roots n Ruckus'.
We love it.

Monday, June 28

OUT AND ABOUT

Tinariwen







We watched Tinariwen play a show at The Bell House in Gowanus last night.

It was out of this world.

Tinariwen is a band of musicians from the Taureg rebel community in the Saharan desert region of Mali. They've been playing music since the late 1970's, influenced by West African blues and Moroccan Pop Rai during their nomadic years as exiles in Algeria and by radical protest songs that sprung from rebel fighting in Mali.

Couldn't keep my eyes off of Ibrahim Ag Alhabib, an old, wild-haired sage sporting a royal blue silk robe who sang--barely moving his lips, barely changing his expression--underneath his mustache.

His hand was bullet-scarred and moved with expert grace.

Can't stop, won't stop thinking about it.