Everybody's Hugging

Cropped Out 2012, Saturday

Support — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 12:27:53 +0000

Oh, hey, a full moon – that must mean Neil Hamburger, David Liebe Hart, R. Stevie Moore, Lil B, and the Globsters are playing down by the river. Saturday’s lineup was absurd. People got gross. Pink bandannas were everywhere. Parents blushed. Very old men played music for very young kids, and very young kids played music for very old men. I attended a Radio Shack-powered seance. All this, and Mr. Globster got to eat at Vietnam Kitchen. Kudos and bliss all around.

Hazard’s notorious punk hero. Motorhead meets the Muppet Babies.

Clumpy phlegm making a face crawl. From Cincinnati!

More juices from St. Louis. Moist Man is the Bastard skull tattoos.

Harrowing soul scuzz from New York.

One of the weekend’s highlights. Immersive, moonlit, movement-and-light based compositions on a pier by the Ohio river. Slick 80′s mall jams were wafting into the space from a boat party down the river.

Kentucky’s strip club laws insisted that he wear pasties to preserve the dignity of the party. These kids played with more spicy disorder than just about anyone this weekend.

Over 400 albums. The only Cropped Out performer with a deeper crock pot than Lil B.

Hot bile injections for pop slugs.

Berkeley’s Cult mastermind compares himself to J.K. Rowling, gets 100′s of kids to chant “Ellen Degeneres”, and throws the most based party to ever hit the fish-fry alcove of the American Turners Club.

Bittersweet farewells to the haunted projection pool. Couldn’t make it to the Papa M show on Sunday.

Cropped Out 2012, Louisville. Next year’s festival has a lot to live up to. Ride out your buzz in the meantime with frequent and dependable local burners by The Other Side of Life and Cropped Out.

Cropped Out 2012, Friday

Support — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 12:27:53 +0000

Cropped Out returned to American Turners this weekend, just a few convenient minutes from the xizzling-hot yacht and sass party at Captain’s Quarters! The Turner compound was a fabulous rustic mix of wilderness, voodoo picnic space, art-installation campout, crampy nightclub, and breezy broken sports hideaway. The lineup and ambiance were a zesty broth of the unpredictable and proudly inconsistent. Friday night got started early with Louisville’s She Might Bite, but I didn’t come aboard until deep within Jandek’s set. Put your eyes and lips on these pictures of the great bands that played the rest of the night! More images from Saturday night’s vodka-and-crepe fueled orgy coming later this week!

Friday’s only band to use a contact mic’d spatula as percussion.

Drying diapers for a tall lunatic.

Tough dude from Virginia singing with a senior citizen biker playing distorted southern rock on an amplified acoustic.

One of Louisville’s best.

They taste best when you shake the bottom peanut dust out of those Planters jars into yr V-pup.

Punk rock gets scenic, pastoral.

Australia’s leather boys do the moanin and skronkin.

Cola trap.

VA powerviolence old-timers, looking for a blood jacuzzi to wind down in after the show.

“I heard a man say that Jack Daniels bottles are impossible to break over someone’s head. Can anyone verify this?”

Cropped Out 2012, Friday. The raw kingdom.

Forecastle 2012, Day 3

Support — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 12:27:53 +0000

Farewell to Forecastle! We loved it, and expect big things next year. In the meantime, Louisville Deathfest, Lexy’s Boomslang, and the witty, unpredictable talent and natural game of Cropped Out 2012 have some excellent and humid ear-blisterings in store for summer’s twilight.

Forecastle 2012 – Day 2

Support — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 12:27:53 +0000

Day 3 coming soon.

Forecastle 2012 – Day 1

Support — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 12:27:53 +0000

Forecastle 2012. The burly storms took a sabbatical, and all was well under the watchful eye of Joe’s Crab Shack. Here are some of the delicate morsels from our weekend among the bridges and barges.

Days 2 and 3 coming soon.

Waters, Dunes, Riles, and Young

amber — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 05:50:47 +0000

Amen Dunes dropped by the Z Bar on a stank Thursday evening last week to unpack their woozy tunes and spread the murk with Louisville’s Dane Waters and Zak Riles. Dane raised the curtain with some stark and lovely compositions, sounding a bit like Jarboe’s less feverish moments, or perhaps a Kendra Smith who was raised in the ocean. She would have fit in perfectly with the classic 4AD roster from the late 80′s/early 90′s. Be on the lookout for a video with Everybody’s Hugging featuring her sickest roller skate jams. Zak Riles played a a solid sampler menu of a set, rotating between nimble little riffs, drones, waves, and hidden melodies. Amen Dunes shrugged off a bunch of fuzzed-on budget symphonies to god, humble little slow-motion pop hymns, where the wall of sound was constructed with gauze, gravy, and burnt hair. It boasted some of the same good old find-the-candy-in-the-bowl-of-broken-glass trick that Suicide and early Butthole Surfers (minus the jokes and bad trips) used to employ. Perfectly unsteady pop delirium, and the type with wool mallets at that! Oh, and word on the streets is that Amen Dunes’ keyboardist has the 411 on some fresh K-Swiss deals at Oxmoor. Go spend some bucks in the towering aisles of the Sacred Bones online store.

Dark Waters

AMEN DUNES

Tall Babies

amber — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 22:30:20 +0000

Is everyone in Old Baby 7 feet tall? Great to see so many people out at a show on a Sunday night, especially gathered for a program of unsettled throbbing and anti-idyllic mountain poetry. Long serpentine twists and a blunt, oppressive rhythm section sounded perfectly unscrewed and despairing. Kinda like Smog’s Bill Callahan crooked crooning over a more rural Swans. Swogs? If you squint your ears, you can also smell some Lungfish and Led Zeppelin doodles, too. Totally weather-appropriate, by the way. I won’t be wanting Old Baby in my way when I’m going down on a popsicle in my Crocodile Mile this summer. But for now, it’s the perfect dis-comfort food. Delicious poisonous stew. We can’t wait for seconds.

Old Baby the Blue Ox

“Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle, and quick to anger.”

Hard elixirs and the Trapper Keeper of rhymes.

Stomping on pedals like you driving a big rig

The Widow With The Dragon Tattoo

Old Baby, December 2011

Old Baby birth announcement!

amber — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 21:18:22 +0000

Old Baby is playing their first placenta-drenched show on Sunday, Dec. 11 at Zanzabar. We don’t know much about them yet, but our favorite rustic giant and Everybody’s Hugging guinea pig, Jonathan Glen Wood, is going to be joined by folks from great bands like Young Widows, The Shipping News, Sapat, Dead Child, and more. Plans are in the works for a release on Hawthorne Street Records, the same people who offered up juicy morsels from locals Brain Banger, Breather Resist, Your Black Star, and Dead Child.

The Other Side of Life and the same pretties that brought us the sicko Cropped Out festival last month are throwing up this party. Chicago tricksters Cave will be wrecking it throughout the remainder of the evening with their colorful, childlike, inventive throbs and hypnotic rocking. Check out their video for “Adam Roberts” here. Yes!

CAVES BROUGHT FORWARD IN TRUTH THE HIGH ANTIQUITY OF MAN.

The show’s 6 bucks. Kim Sorise, Evan Patterson, and Joel Hunt will DJ during the crevices. See you there!

Video: Vegasus

amber — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 20:48:04 +0000

Everybody’s Hugging – Vegasus from Kertis Creative on Vimeo.

BRING OUT THE GIMP

amber — Sun, 27 Nov 2011 21:09:51 +0000

Friday night, Louisville pop connoisseurs The Deloreans squeezed a million fans into the tiny Nach Bar for the annual Black Friday Blackout – “16 taps of beers through which you cannot see light.” Good lord. I had a Creme Brulee Stout from Southern Tier that tasted like a cup of pancake syrup. The band members sloshed their way through the Pulp Fiction soundtrack dressed as Mia, The Wolf, Vincent, Jules, and a couple of other thugs and cruds that I couldn’t place. A fun idea well executed!

“It’s your future… I see a cab ride. Move out of the sticks, gentlemen.”

“I do believe Marsellus Wallace, my husband, your boss, told you to take ME out and do WHATEVER I WANTED. Now I wanna dance, I wanna win. I want that trophy, so dance good.”

“Don’t be tellin’ me about foot massages. I’m the foot fuckin’ master.”

“You see that, young lady? Respect. Respect for one’s elders gives character.”

“Get it straight buster – I’m not here to say please, I’m here to tell you what to do and if self-preservation is an instinct you possess you’d better fucking do it and do it quick.”

On a side note, a Carcass – referencing vandal has stated his position in the bathroom. “Regurgitation of Giblets” indeed!…

…and then I saw some more metal-themed graffiti this morning. Someone better get to the bottom of this.