Clavius Productions presents:
Thursday, March 22
Warehouse Next Door
1021 7th St NW WDC
http://www.warehousenextdoor.com $7, all ages!
doors at 9, show at 9:30
peeesseye (electro-acoustic improv from NYC)
Violet & Jacob Kirkegaard (US/Denmark electronic drone duo)
Safe (DC improv analog synth/tape duo)
Panther (mem. of The Planet The, from Portland OR)
from the Washington City Paper:
"Drone records are generally recorded in places that you donâ??t want to be. Sometimes theyâ??re made in a grungy basement where unshowered stoners court tinnitus; other times itâ??s a university sound lab where unshowered nerds court masterâ??s degrees. The recordings of sound artist Jacob Kirkegaard are no different. His most recent record, 4 Rooms, documents someplace you really donâ??t want to be: ÂChernobyl. But itâ??s a stirring environment to experience from the comfort of a decent headset. After gaining permission to enter the isolated zone surrounding the power plant, Kirkegaard recorded silence in four empty rooms and then layered that sound to evoke unexpected overtones. The result isâ??like much of Kirkegaardâ??s workâ??a moving sonic representation of time passing in an empty and abandoned landscape. Kirkegaard may or may not take you there when he and Violet perform with Peeesseye and Safe at 9:30 p.m. at the Warehouse Next Door, 1021 7th St NW. $7. (202) 783-3933." (Aaron Leitko)
peeesseye http://www.evolvingear.com/ http://www.myspace.com/peeesseye "On their last disc, Oo-ee-oo, Peeesseye went underground with a subterranean scowl, fashioning a scary series of demon folk, sparse and ominous. The album made few concrete stabs and evil in earnest, but there was darkness aplenty, and whatever was happening in the shadowy corner surely wasnâ??t anything innocent. On Commuting Between the Surface and the Underworld, the Brooklyn lads include a shortened version of 'Oo-ee-oo,' but the disc works its black magic from other angles, though the trioâ??s bleak pathos never relents.
The condensed 'Oo-ee-oo' that opens Commuting Between the Surface and the Underworld is obviously a leaner monster than the album-length recording that preceded it, and while the truncated duration leaves less time for the music to make skin crawl, this newer version is more focused and potent, equally creepy in far less time. And while it clocks in at less than 13 minutes, the aura of malevolence crafted by the albumâ??s first track permeates the rest of the disc. Dark, distinct folk passages make up much of 'Ballad of Fine Decay,' but a good deal of Commuting Between the Surface and the Underworld is crafted in a more abstract manner, as with the the drones of 'Finger Star Leaf.' 'Distant Mud,' which closes the album, is its most interesting track, in that it serves as a compendium of sorts; combining many of Peeesseyeâ??s approaches without quoting any, it wraps up the disc in a suitable fashion, alternating from a glitchy sludge into drone, with acoustic guitar all the while and vocal incantations that veer towards silliness, but luckily stop just short. The track introduces horns into the mix, and seems headed towards an almost uplifting end before it stumbles, and, clattering, comes to a fittingly fragmented conclusion (aside, of course, from the 20-minute bonus track, which features what sounds like field recordings of what sounds like a sheep or goat bleating over a warped religious radio station).
Peeesseye do well in reigning in their sinister side, not mining it to an excessive (and wholly unbelievable) degree, and largely rely more on atmosphere to provide the chills than anything too heavy-handed or overt. They toe the line dangerously a few times over the course of Commuting Between the Surface and the Underworld, but are mainly able to avoid anything overly clumsy or obvious. And just as the idea of real evil lurking in the dark corners of the world is often infinitely more scary than the more fantastical inventions of scary childhood lore, Peeesseye are at their best when the scary side of their music is at its most organic." (Fakejazz)
Violet & Jacob Kirkegaard http://www.zeromoon.com http://fonik.dk/ Jeff Surak (aka
Violet) is a veteran experimenter from Washington, DC. Since the early 1980s, he has explored the netherworld between improvisation and composition to create something between the two auditory realms of experimental music. Found objects, microcassettes, damaged cds, prepared acoustic instruments, and old record players outfitted with foil are the tools of choice.
Jacob Kirkegaard has received international attention for his artistic ventures into "hidden" acoustic spheres: Using accelerometers and other scientific equipment, he explores those resonant spaces that usually remain inaccessible to sense perception. Born in 1975 in Denmark, Kirkegaard is currently residing in Cologne, Germany, where he graduated with a master's degree from the Academy of Media Arts. He has also taught at the Royal Academy of Architecture in Copenhagen, Denmark. While his sound art is released by the British label Touch, his installations have been presented, among other places, at Kiasma in Finland, at Diapason Gallery in New York City and the Museum of Contemporary Art in Denmark. Among his numerous collaborators are Jim Thirlwell (aka Foetus), CM von Hausswolff, Ann Lislegaard and Philip Jeck.
Safe The new improvisational collaboration of Tyler Higgins and Dave Vosh. Employing assorted electro-acoustic devices and modular synthesizer, they focus on the sound emitted by machines, sounds derived from radio and slowly evolving noise. Dave has been experimenting with electro-noise music since the early `70`s and
this project with Tyler is among the first things he`s done since escaping the basement last year. Tyler has been creatively misusing
technology alongside other musical pursuits since high school, recently focusing on very direct ways of producing and manipulating sound.
Panther http://www.myspace.com/theplanetthe "Cry for help? Come-on? Exactly how much heavy breathing does Portland, Oregon have in it? My favorite record of the last year, the Blow's Paper Television, was all sexed-up frustration, or frustration sexed-up: performance art by way of crippling, demented, and public sexual insecurities. Portland has probably the best DIY scene in the country, talented and clever musicians, the labels to collaborate, and they're all in bands by themselves. On a stage, they are alone; in the studio, pairs at the most. Do they even realize the guy next door is making the exact same sweaty complaint into the exact same laptop -- that theirs are problems that could be solved together?
Enter Panther, né Charlie Salas-Humara: lousy video breakdancer (catch him in the video for The Thermals "Pillar of Salt" and in clips for his own songs), Justin Timberlake/Prince worshipper, and sex-jam crooner. Secret Lawns, his debut album, is his scene's basic synthesis: Bobby Birdman's lounge-act croon, YACHT's rap-radio obsession, E*Rock's basement boombox beats, White Rainbow's laptop freak-out, the Blow's autoerotic romance, reduced to something as spare and sharp as the snap music "How Does it Feel?" rips off." (Zach Baron, Pitchfork)
