Hella/Need New Body roll call

[Bags]

Originally posted by snailhook:
 i wasn't aware that music had to be restricted to structure and technical ability. there are incredibly advanced musicians that could improvise circles around your ass and you wouldn't know it because "there are no songs" and "they can't play." ignorance is bliss, so they say.

It doesn't have to be restricted, but you must admit that many people favor song structure.  I find that nearly all music I just like or don't, I *feel* whether I like it -- you can try to slip something past me from a genre I generally don't like, and I still generally won't like it (there are exceptions, of course).  Song structure is high on many people's lists, though a lack thereof doesn't make music "the worst," but not something I or a lot of folks would like probably.  I love that other folks do, but I can still not dig it....  I do my best to say "I" don't like something rather than it sucks, 'cuz it's all subjective, ain't it?  Art not science and all...
   

[Guiny]

Ok, I'm a little lost on this song structure thing. Everyone likes The Ramone's, did they really have song structure, or The Pixie's, The Clash, well maybe The Clash did. I don't know, maybe I need an example of who has song structure and who doesn't.

[Charlie Nakatestes, Japanese Golfer]

Good points, Bags. I didn't say they sucked, just that they were to worst band I've ever seen. Of course, that is totally based on my subjective taste.
 
 Guiny, they sounded to me like their instruments were all out of tune, and that they were just playing random notes rather than songs they had actually written. I guess the best comparison would be to some of the more modern, improvisationally inclined jazz artists, not to the bands you list. I think some of the jazz artists can pull it off. NNB combined all that was listed above with an abrasiveness that is thankfully lacking in jazz stuff, and that combo made it intolerable. Plus, they looked like total dorks, which didn't help.
 

Originally posted by Bagalicious Tangster:
   

Originally posted by snailhook:
 i wasn't aware that music had to be restricted to structure and technical ability. there are incredibly advanced musicians that could improvise circles around your ass and you wouldn't know it because "there are no songs" and "they can't play." ignorance is bliss, so they say.

It doesn't have to be restricted, but you must admit that many people favor song structure.  I find that nearly all music I just like or don't, I *feel* whether I like it -- you can try to slip something past me from a genre I generally don't like, and I still generally won't like it (there are exceptions, of course).  Song structure is high on many people's lists, though a lack thereof doesn't make music "the worst," but not something I or a lot of folks would like probably.  I love that other folks do, but I can still not dig it....  I do my best to say "I" don't like something rather than it sucks, 'cuz it's all subjective, ain't it?  Art not science and all...
     [/b]

[Bags]

washingtonpost.com
 At Warehouse Next Door, A Long Descent Into Hella
 
 Wednesday, June 2, 2004; Page C04
 
 If musicians were paid by the note, Hella might have flown a Learjet to the Warehouse Next Door on Monday. The Sacramento guitar-and-drums outfit assaults its instruments with such unrelenting speed, the music might be dangerous to more sensitive listeners. You can't dance to this stuff, but you could have a seizure to it.
 
 Like Washington's own Orthrelm and Providence's Lightning Bolt before them, Hella is a duo specializing in rapid-fire, arrhythmic and primarily instrumental post-punk. Their Memorial Day set sounded like "Led Zeppelin II" on fast-forward, with drummer Zach Hill righteously playing the John Bonham role. Hill's ham-fisted cacophony was a joy to witness, and his blunt avalanche of tom-smashing gave some much-needed soul to the band's otherwise monochromatic performance. Guitarist Spencer Seim wandered the fretboard as if trapped soloing over a never-ending drum fill, quickly dulling the band's initial burst into an exhausting hour of prog-punk aerobics.
 
 Opening act Need New Body fared much better. The oddball Philadelphia sextet blithely hurdled back and forth between loungey piano ballads (sung in mock-falsetto) and reckless spasms of tribal percussion. With their amps draped in faux-fur and sequined fabric, and a bicycle wheel inexplicably jutting out from the center of the stage, their performance felt like an acid trip at the thrift store.
 
 And the lunacy was apparently contagious. By set's end, the crowd had erupted in a fit of hysterical dancing, causing the Warehouse floorboards to bounce and wobble as if they might cave in.
 
 -- Chris Richards