The problem with many dance-rock bands is they either suffer from an overkill of irony or don’t have enough funk. Or both. Cut Copy’s second New York City show this week proved why so many aficionados of the genre have gone ga-ga over these Aussies. Brandishing songs about love and relationships from their recently release, In Ghost Colours, the four-piece outfit clearly have an easygoing stage presence and chops up the wazoo.

From the moment they took the stage at the Bowery Ballroom, the band kept the party going with an onslaught of irresistible booty shakers. The sentimental “Hearts on Fire” was a particular standout, and songs from 2004’s Bright Like Neon Love still sounded fresh and relevant. By the time they segued into their closing number, Cut Copy had the crowd pogoing in unison.

Where so many have tried (and failed) to merge the disparate worlds of dance and rock, Cut Copy have figured out how to balance the best of both worlds, while creating a singular sound that continues to blossom.

Keep on playing that funky music, Cut Copy.

Photos by Darren Ressler

I loathe Alicia Keys’ “Falling.” While there are far worse tunes, my personal dislike—no, hatred!—stems from hearing this song one zillion times too many. Given its a capella intro, the song is now the obligatory audition track for every female singer hoping to demonstrate their vocal chops, replacing Jennifer Holliday’s far superior “And I’m Telling You.” To hear “Falling” sung badly so many times has rendered a permanent gash on my psyche.

While I maintain my irrevocable personal feelings toward the song, there’s good news for every aspiring diva: Ms. Keys (who hails from NYC) is looking for a new background singer. Interested vocalists are asked to submit a 30-second or larger video of themselves singing an original a capella to Keys’ MySpace page by May 5 (the winner will be announced on May 15). And don’t even think about sending a clip of yourself singing that dreadful, aforementioned number! Here are the rules: “Qualifications include being a female between the ages 21-30 with R&B/Soul singing experience. Contestant must also have a valid passport, and must be physically fit and able to dance.” Able to dance? How unfair. After all, a lack of moves didn’t stop this 11-time Grammy award winner from becoming a superstar.

Icelandic group Múm, pronounced "Moom", played on Wednesday night at the Brooklyn Masonic Temple. This came as part of two NY shows leading up to their appearance at Coachella (which begins today). It's been a kind of comeback for the group, who were arguably more popular in the late 90s, and by 2007 were down to just two members (Tynes and Smárason) from an original four. The band is now almost completely new, with five additions: guitarist/vocalist/violinist Ólöf Arnalds, trumpet/keyboard player Eiríkur Orri Ólafsson, vocalist/cellist Hildur Guðnadóttir, percussionist Samuli Kosminen and multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Mr. Silla. That's more instruments, and accents, than I care to count.

Múm have pulled slightly away from their former electro obsessions (they used to owe a lot to Aphex Twin and fellow-Icelanders Sigur Rós). On Wednesday they came across as more indie-rock than electronica, a kind of Icelandic Arcade Fire. Most tracks were based on a layer of ambient noise, with very poppy elements worked in on keyboard and laptop, coupled with the extremely high and clear vocal stylings of Hildur, Múm's main lady.

The first half of their set was extremely slow (with no real drum beat or guitar line in sight). This should have been expected given that the area in front of the stage had been provided with rows and rows of chairs, adding to the Talent Show feeling of the Masonic Temple's overall high school vibe. After the first five songs, though, the beat seemed to pick up, and the group played "Marmalade Fires", arguably its best track to date.

Most of the songs, though, lacked energy or really memorable moments. In part it's the uber-seriousness of the group, who sing with their eyes closed or raised to the ceiling in the manner of a choir. During their encore, it was nice to hear a few lines from Kiss's "I was made for loving you". Maybe the sea sounds, the spooky voices, the kazoos and other such Múm elements all go down better in Iceland (along with the rotting shark thing and salted fish snacks). But a little Kiss never hurt anybody.

The halls of the Brooklyn Masonic Temple are a weird combination of Eastern European opulence and high school gymnasium.

I was lucky to score a ticket some two months ago for Saturday's Hot Chip concert at Terminal 5, and then I mostly forgot all about it. How silly of me, right? It was my first time in the impressively large (though less so in sound quality) Hell's Kitchen venue, and I couldn't help but marvel at what a wonderful -- if inconveniently located -- space it was. But in spite of the cavernous space and the somewhat fuzzy sound mixing, the geeky London quintet managed to fill our ears and hearts with their exuberant, R&B-laced synth-pop.

I have to admit: going into the concert, I was skeptical about how well Hot Chip's production- and loop-heavy sound would translate on a live stage. Well, as soon as Alexis Taylor, Joe Goddard & Co. took to the stage and began a sort of tribal drum beat, signaling an extended intro to new banger "Shake a Fist," all my skepticism was put to rest. Damn, these guys know how to put on a show! For around 90 minutes, it was all sweat, ecstatic dancing, lights, and sweet sweet pop music for my friends and me. For me, the highlight of the evening occurred about halfway through my personal favorite, "Touch Too Much," when diminutive frontman Alexis Taylor turned away from his synth to get freaky with the bongos for a minute, followed by the whole band letting the beat drop and then launching into a final soaring refrain.

Such an impressive performance begged the question: how do five guys who look so ordinary make music so extraordinary? Simple answer: they're geniuses! (Four out of the five attended either Oxford or Cambridge.)

Set list:

Shake a Fist
Boy from School
Hold On
Bendable Poseable
Touch Too Much
Over & Over
Out at the Pictures
Wrestlers
(Crap Kraft Dinner)
One Pure Thought
Ready for the Floor

Encore
Made in the Dark
Don't Dance
No Fit State
Privacy of Our Love

[Photo Cred: Ballulah]

Last week I learned Mick Jones (The Clash/Big Audio Dynamite) and Tony James (Generation X/Sigue Sigue Sputnik) have a band (for the past five years, apparently) called Carbon/Silicon. They’ve also recently released an album, The Last Post. I had no idea. The band’s website offers a bunch of free downloadable sound files (which, if you ask me, is very punk rock), so I quickly schooled myself on their tunes in preparation for Friday’s show at Irving Plaza.

The four-piece weren’t interested in nostalgia; instead, they cruised through their set of original tunes with ease. Jones, who wore a gray shiny suit and looks more like an accountant these days, sounded great. Now in his fifties, his voice is still robust. He used nearly every interlude to ramble on in his often indistinguishable Cockney accent and direct people to James’ blog for no apparent reason. At one point after the first or second song, Jones told a joke about a guy who went to see a psychiatrist one night because he thought he was a moth. “How did you know I was awake?” asked the shrink. “Well, I saw your light was on.” Ba-dum dum.
 

Songs like “Soylent Green,” “The News,” and “The Whole Truth” are incredibly infectious and find Carbon/Silicon veering into garage rock territory. Jones and James enjoyed waving the punk flag one more time as they railed against materialism, consumption, tabloids and our dysfunctional culture.

The highlight of the show came at the encore, when Carbon/Silicon eased into a few choruses of "Police on My Back” during their anthemic "Why Do Men Fight?" Jones—who looked like he was pretty baked by that point—went off into freeform stoner speak, talking about land grabs during tours and how our bodies are made of molecules and atoms. Hearing Jones play such an engaging rendition of his old band’s classic song was well worth the price of admission.

In a lot of ways, everything Mick Jones and Carbon/Silicon sang about Friday night mirrored the societal ills—unemployment, war, a recession—which The Clash commented on so profoundly in 1977. Mick Jones might be thirty years older, but the song remains ironically the same for him.

images courtesy of Jonny Sharkbait

Matthew Dear is best-known as minimal techno God "Audion", co-founder of America's renowned electronic label, Ghostly International. But on Thursday night at Hiro Ballroom, Dear was on stage not as a DJ, but as frontman to his latest project, a three-piece rock/"experimental" act called Big Hands. The stellar opening act, though, was proof of Dear's DJ-cred: electronic duo Junior Boys spun for about an hour before Dear's set.

The crowd was mixed: some had clearly come ready to dance, while others seemed to have come just to see a band called Matthew Dear's Big Hands, without knowing much about them. Proof of the band's electronic background was in the laptop that sat at the ready next to Matthew's mike. This he occasionally tapped to produce simple loops for each song, as John Gaviglio on bass and Mark Maynard on drums provided a spare, minimal-techno-inspired backbone to the set.

The name that most came to mind when listening to Big Hands was the Talking Heads, whose sound similarly rides a line between pop, rock and funk. Interestingly, Dear's act is far more even keel, pounding away at the same bass lines and melodies without reaching an obvious climax or big "dance moment". Even his leagues-deep voice provides a kind of mellowing effect. While I admired Dear's Bowie-esque presence, I thought at least one beat-laden, dance-driven song would have rounded out the night.

But maybe it's for the best: dancing would have been nearly impossible in the crowded venue, anyway. People lucky enough to sit in booths seemed content to bob their heads, the show a kind of background music to a fancy club (complete with $12 drinks and bottle service). The saving grace: a girl I met was visiting from Iceland. She said she loved Matthew Dear, and during his set she briefly stood on top of one of the booths and unashamedly got her groove on. If that's the kind of fan techno-cred can get you, more power to the Big Hands.

Adulent fans go wild during the Junior Boys' set

London-based garage-rock duo The Kills played a set this afternoon at The Fader Fort here in downtown Austin. After entering through a Levi's store / hipster fun house from an alternate universe, Mike and I found ourselves in the tented backyard venue. And once there, we caught Hotel (Jamie Hince) and VV (Alison Mosshart) up to their old tricks: making sexy, riff-driven, meth-freak garage-blues over stuttering drum-machine beats [how's that for hyphens, eh?!]. Playing mostly songs from their new XXXChange-produced album, Midnight Boom, which drops stateside next Tuesday on Domino Records, The Kills looked and sounded in top form. And a good thing it is, as they're about to embark on a month-long tour of continental Europe on Saturday.

The SXSW music conference kicks off today, which means the interactive geeks are checking out of Austin hotels and the rock stars are checking in. Although last night could have been considered the calm before the storm, there was plenty of live music taking over 6th Street, the epicenter of the festival. A group of us started the night off at a bar (I think it was called Fuego?) that promised $1 shots (bad idea, I feel like trash right now) and some good live rock. When we got there, three young hipsters were setting up their equipment on a small stage. Two tequilas later, Lights Resolve fired up their guitars, and rocked the small, semi-trendy venue. The band took advantage of their wireless gear, leaping off stage and dancing with the liquored-up crowd. Their sound was fresh, energetic and upbeat; full of hey's and wha-whoas. Although I've never heard of them before last night, they're already well on their way to stardom, as they head on tour with Straylight Run and The Used. Check them out here.

Alright, off to see more bands.

Last night, Lime Wire threw an event at SXSW in Austin to celebrate the release of our new music store and LimeSpot platform. People swarmed to the shindig, held in the retro Club De Ville, to see performances from Scissors For Lefty, The Golden Dogs, Virginia Coalition and The Low Lows. All bands put on excellent sets, but The Golden Dogs stole the show as they brought their upbeat pop to life before our eyes. Headliners Scissors For Lefty also put on an energetic set, jumping off stage and gettin' jiggy with the highly amused crowd. The night was a big success, thanks to great music and free booze. I snapped a couple more shots from the night, all under the cut.

 

The Low Lows opened the night for us

The Golden Dogs stole the Show

Scissors For Lefty may be a new favorite

Jorge took advantage of the free drinks

Mustache chick stole my heart

Pelzer rocks the Lime Wire gear

Fischler liked The Golden Dogs a little too much

Last night was a messy one for the Lime Wire team. After stumbling out of Gawker's party at Side Bar, we made our way over to Pangea where Facebook was hosting their annual filmmaker meetup. The Zuck was there in high spirits, fully recovered from his keynote debacle earlier in the day, and seemed to be into the bands playing his party. We missed the first band that played, Wild Street Orange, but made it in time for headliners State Radio, the side project of Dispatch frontman Chad Urmstrom. The band brought a great vibe to the room, rocking out with their soulful reggae-rock. Jeremy Vest from the How's Your News Band hopped on the drums for a guest song, and put on an impressive solo.

After State Radio, we hit up a few more bars, until finally ending up at the Purevolume Ranch, where we caught the tail end of Austin local synth rockers The Laughing. They sounded a bit like The Bravery, with a bit more edge. The night ended with a DJ set from Rubix, which all seemed to be a haze at that point. Oh boy, don't know how I'll make it through tonight...