Abra Moore has released albums on record labels large and small, toured with the Lilith Fair, earned a Grammy nomination for her vocal performances, and placed tracks in movies, television shows, and best-selling video games. But for all her worldly success, it's the intimate connection that she's forged with her fans that stands as her greatest accomplishment. It's no wonder that her devoted fanbase treats each new release as a reason to rejoice. In her hometown of Austin, Abra Moore is a legend - and she's respected and celebrated everywhere singer-songwriter music is heard.
Daring production choices have often distinguished her recordings from those of other singer-songwriters, and that continues to be true with On The Way. An Abra Moore vocal can feel positively bewitching, and subtle use of reverb and echoing effects often amplifies the strange and beguiling quality of her recordings. On "Sugarite", a song of memory and longing, Moore sounds simultaneously heartbroken and detached, delivering each note with a near-unearthly precision. She begins her story over an acoustic guitar riff reminiscent of Suzanne Vega's early work - but by the end of the song, the drums and overdriven guitars have kicked in, and the track becomes a dizzy, swirling reverie. It's a bold, uncommon sound for a contemporary singer-songwriter, strongly suggesting Moore's roots in the uncompromising and globetrotting Poi Dog Pondering.
Acceptance is a band out of Seattle, Washington. They are made up of Jason Vena (Vocals), Christian McAlhaney (guitar and vocals), Kaylan Cloyd (guitar), Ryan Zwiefelhofer (bass), and Nick Radovanovic (drums). They were formed in 1998 by Jason, Kaylan, Chris DeCastro who played drums, and Peter. Chris and peter soon left the group and Ryan, Nick, and Christian joined on. They released "Lost for Words" in 2000, "Black Lines to Battlefields" in 2003 and "Phantoms" in 2005. They play alternative style music similar to the Foo Fighters. They haven't made any important performances, but played The Webster on Feb. 5th and are currently on tour. They were influenced by The Beatles, Metallica, Jimmy Eat World, and Counting Crows.
Aesop Rock (born Ian Matthias Bavitz on May 11, 1976) is an American hip hop artist. He was at the forefront of the new wave of underground acts that emerged during the late 1990s/early 2000s. He is signed to El-P's Definitive Jux label and is a current member of the Weathermen.
Everything that Air does is artful, and everything they record invites accompaniment, commentary, and reinterpretation. Thus, it's neither incongruous nor unexpected to see traditional ballet and contemporary dance coupled with their music. For the "Mer du Japon" clip, Air has called upon the talents of countryman Angelin Preljocaj - a man internationally recognized as one of the world's most imaginative choreographers, and a winner of the Prix Benois de la Dance for innovative dance. Preljocaj's ballet is simultaneously contemporary and classical, passionately expressive, drawing on reserves of mystery, grace, and strength. In short, his spirit is kindred to Godin's and Dunckel's, and he's a natural interlocutor for Air's sonic poetry.
The "Mer du Japon" clip is, in classic terms, a pas de deux: a duet performed by two dancers who, through motion and gesture, communicate to the viewer something vital about their relationship. Thanks to computer-video assistance, Air's two ballerinas - one European and the other Japanese - aren't confined to a stage; instead, they perform before a setting that resembles a gigantic aquarium. Air bubbles and sea serpents slide around them as they dance, and hovering in the background, as if seen in a dream, Godin and Dunckel are visible in profile. But the emphasis here is on the two women, and rightfully so - both Celine Galli and Nagisa Shinai have worked with Preljocaj before, and both execute that powerful sureness of motion that is so characteristic of his choreography. Their dance is sexualized from the start; exploratory, sinuous, revealing, hypnotic. When Shinai holds Galli's face and kisses her French partner, the film seems to freeze. But even as their lips meet, their bodies are still moving - their two bodies rise up to meet the sky, and the dance continues.
Their name boasts of their ubiquity and omnipresence - and they've backed up the boast by touring across the country non-stop. The A.K.A.s (Are Everywhere!) deliver infectious, urgent, socially-conscious punk-pop, and do so wherever and whenever they can. This summer, they'll be catching up with the Warped Tour (they'll be on the "Kevin Says" stage devoted to emerging artists) for fifteen dates, playing festivals with the Alkaline Trio, and somehow finding time for a quick swing through the Rocky Mountain states with The Frantic. Their energy is unflagging, their attitude is wonderfully pugnacious, their commitment to their fanbase is remarkable, and their shows are explosions of light, sound, and color.
All that is more than apparent on Everybody Make Some Noise!, their hair-raising debut for Metropolis Records. Tracks like "Confessions of a Dangerous Mouth" and "This Is The Way We Move" manage to be simultaneously anthemic and confrontational, welcoming and challenging. Like the best punk rock bands, The A.K.A.s (Are Everywhere!) sound celebratory even when they're at their most scathing - "Dead Flowers Forever", the lead single, is both a vicious commentary on the state of the world and a raucous call to action. His voice dripping with contempt, frontman Mike Ski sings of "Valentine days and Hallowe'een nights", and a complacent culture that has wrecked what ought to be the best days of his lives. He's hard not to pull for; he's an everyman voicing common frustrations, a two-fisted spokesman for brutal youth.
Transistor Studios are renowned for their own smart, edgy film-manipulation; they've done live-action work for the BBC, and animation for VH1, ESPN, and America Online. Their frenetic clip for "Dead Flowers Forever" captures the excitement of The A.K.A.s (Are Everywhere!) in concert, but does so unconventionally - and even a little self-referentially. We see the edges of the film, the curve of the frame, the black line between the sequential shots; occasionally, we're even treated to a photo negative of an image of the band. Contact sheets spring to life, footage slides around diagonally as if it's in a viewmaster, and the Ilford logo is occasionally visible at the bottom of the screen. It's a bit like encountering an art flick at an underground movie theater - you never know when the film is going to slip from the reels and treat the audience to some unintentionally psychedelic effects. Film races by at varying speeds, titles flash on the screen, white characters are scrawled on top of black test frames; it all creates a feeling of chaos and wild velocity. The A.K.A.s (Are Everywhere!) do their part, too, flinging themselves at their instruments, spinning and slashing with their guitar-necks, and spitting their fighting words at the camera. It all seems as if it could unravel at any minute, but it never does. There's solid rock inside the A.K.A. whirlwind - a firm, unshakable core of conviction.
Some singer-songwriters are an acquired taste, but Alexa Wilkinson isn't one of them. Her music is immediately appealing, wholly ingratiating, and often undeniable. On her frequently-visited MySpace page (260,000 plays and counting), she cites Melanie as an influence, and that's apparent in her music: like the early-Seventies legend, Wilkinson is poppy, offbeat, relaxed and confident, gently defiant, and slyly sexy. Lions, her latest set, sparkles from beginning to close, and seems poised to establish her as one of the freshest voices in alternative pop.
She'll take her place there alongside the like-minded Josh Kelley, who has been a mentor, tourmate, and frequent collaborator of hers. Kelley co-wrote several songs on Wilkinson's glittering debut and invited the young singer-songwriter out on the road with him; since then, she's shared stages with Kate Voegele and Stephen Kellogg, and captivated crowds wherever she'd played. The singer-guitarist is currently on national tour with Todd Carey and Jonathan Clay, and regularly leaves indie audiences spellbound. And while she's a force in concert, her successes aren't confined to the stage: "Miles Away", one of her best-loved songs, has already been featured on an episode of The Hills.
Alexa Wilkinson is a skillful acoustic guitarist and a vibrant singer, but her first instrument was the trumpet, and her spirited horn-playing is all over the multifaceted Lions. "Vanilla Rain", the lead single, features a brass and wind section - trombone, saxophone, and Wilkinson's own trumpet. It's colorful and slightly whimsical, and it blends so seamlessly into the pop architecture of the song that it doesn't feel at all unexpected. Unusual, yes; incongruous?, never. But the emphasis here is on Wilkinson's storytelling, her emotional honesty, and her expressive performance. She's mastered the toughest and most crucial trick of the confessional style: no matter how much verve she sings with, she still sounds as though she's sitting beside you, crooning directly into your ear.
Gino Tomac's crisply-directed clip for "Vanilla Rain" plays with those notions of intimacy and self-revelation, and presents the artist as a budding motion-picture star, singing her song much as a movie actress would perform her speaking lines. At first blush, the video seems tranquil and domestic: we watch Wilkinson in bed with a young man, softly singing her plea to his sleeping face. Later, they're in the kitchen; she sits on the counter, and smiles as they chop vegetables together. It all appears homey, wholesome. But then a funny thing begins to happen: Tomac starts running some of the footage backward. Wine pours upward into bottles, the bed makes itself, shoes soar through the air and attach themselves to feet. Soon, it becomes apparent that we're being told this story in reverse sequence: we've begun with a morning-after, and we're tracing the course of a date from its conclusion to its beginning. We see the couple in the park, and then meeting in front of the New York City skyline - and then we watch the young man walk backward from his own house, slip on (off) a wedding ring, and return to his wife.
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