The Mary Onettes (Solo)
Ski Lodge, Vox Pop, DJ Kip Berman of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
Tue, February 19, 2013
Doors: 8:30 pm / Show: 8:30 pm
Glasslands Gallery
Brooklyn, NY
$10.00 - $12.00
Tickets Available at the Door
This event is 21 and over
http://www.popgunbooking.com/event/218199/The Mary Onettes (Solo)
The Mary Onettes' critically acclaimed debut was described as the perfect mix between A-ha and The Jesus and Mary Chain. Now they are back with a grandiose new album. Imagine a Swedish equivalent of The National on a diet of speed, Planet Earth DVDs, and 80's guitar pop singles and you'll have a vague idea of how amazing this is. "At their best, the band positively nailed the bruised romanticism and exquisite melancholy that marked a certain strain of that decade's [80s] best pop." -- Pitchfork
Ski Lodge
Ski Lodge is a two-way mirror into the mind of Andrew Marr:
multi-instrumentalist, expressionist, and the newest member of the
Dovecote Records family. Marr's inward-looking, earnest surf pop
suggest, instead of Summer, a longing for Summer on an early Spring
day. By funneling influences ranging from The Morning Benders to
Arcade Fire and The Smiths into the sound of the Strokes and Vampire
Weekend, Marr manages to bypass the epic, opting for a more brassy,
lilting croon. It's music about forgiveness, youth, and staying on the
long, meandering path toward an eventual home
multi-instrumentalist, expressionist, and the newest member of the
Dovecote Records family. Marr's inward-looking, earnest surf pop
suggest, instead of Summer, a longing for Summer on an early Spring
day. By funneling influences ranging from The Morning Benders to
Arcade Fire and The Smiths into the sound of the Strokes and Vampire
Weekend, Marr manages to bypass the epic, opting for a more brassy,
lilting croon. It's music about forgiveness, youth, and staying on the
long, meandering path toward an eventual home
Vox Pop
VOX POP'S BEGINNINGS can be traced to the most boring subsection of North London suburbia before they moved to Edinburgh, Scotland. After performing at the Glastonbury Festival in a previous musical incarnation, they migrated to a sleepy, fog-enveloped town just south of San Francisco called Pacifica, where they wrote a set of songs in a house with an outdoor shower and uninterrupted view of the Pacific Ocean.
Much of their soon-to-be-released debut album was then recorded in a small room in Oakland, CA before they ventured down to Los Angeles to mix their first EP, "French/Funeral", with Danny Kalb (Beck, Ben Harper).
En route, they lost one member (who must remain nameless) to the British Secret Service organization MI5, and felt obliged to tell another potential guitarist - after much deliberation and pangs of guilt - not to make the cross-country trip from rural Pennsylvania to San Francisco because they had neglected to mention to the talented but devout Quaker that their Californian drummer occasionally practiced Pagan ceremonial rituals.
After narrowly escaping vehicular death in Los Angeles, Jamie and Katherine fled to Hope Street in New York City, walked into the first venue on the Lower East Side that caught their eye and knew right away that they had to recruit both the quirky guitarist in tight white trousers and the tight drummer with a big smile and flowing locks playing behind him.
They have since joined forces in a purple Brooklyn basement bedecked with a disco ball.
Much of their soon-to-be-released debut album was then recorded in a small room in Oakland, CA before they ventured down to Los Angeles to mix their first EP, "French/Funeral", with Danny Kalb (Beck, Ben Harper).
En route, they lost one member (who must remain nameless) to the British Secret Service organization MI5, and felt obliged to tell another potential guitarist - after much deliberation and pangs of guilt - not to make the cross-country trip from rural Pennsylvania to San Francisco because they had neglected to mention to the talented but devout Quaker that their Californian drummer occasionally practiced Pagan ceremonial rituals.
After narrowly escaping vehicular death in Los Angeles, Jamie and Katherine fled to Hope Street in New York City, walked into the first venue on the Lower East Side that caught their eye and knew right away that they had to recruit both the quirky guitarist in tight white trousers and the tight drummer with a big smile and flowing locks playing behind him.
They have since joined forces in a purple Brooklyn basement bedecked with a disco ball.