We will be heading down Memphis way next weekend to bear witness to the mayhem and glory of Goner Records' fifth annual Gonerfest, four days of garage-rocking, fried chicken-eating, beer-swilling madness. We'll do our best to post daily re-caps; what we saw, where we ate, and who we listened to. Until then, a video testament to the charms of the Bluff City's only rock and roll festival, courtesy of Live From Memphis.
The Fleet Foxes are a band inspiring endless reference- The Beach Boys, Crosby Stills and Nash, Band of Horses, or "16th Century monks singing at high mass" (?). They aren't without singularity-- sincerity and misery are uniquely collapsed. They are colder, more thankless, and less fanciful than the warm pastoral sounds of the freak folk they forage from, and more glib than their Sub Pop label mates. The result is spiritless spirtuals, more contained than trippy, sharing psych folk's anachronisms and indeterminacy, but ever dismal, evoking (when managing) a fiction in which lives are spent in a perpetual winter, without sex or joy, shape note singing Band of Horses in drafty barns, or carving wooden shoes, contemplating the Mountain, the Tree, or the ever poignant River.
I can't argue with their taste in Flemish painters though. Brueghel is In.
posted by J. Minkus at 3:25 AM
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