Nick Hennies, Bromp Treb, and the Stranahan-Miralia duo are playing at Fairchild Chapel on March 17 at 9:30 PM. FB Event.
Why should I watch a man play nothing but a single snare drum for twenty minutes? Because that man is Nick Hennies.
Nick Hennies is about as versatile as someone who bangs on things for a living can get. Classically trained, he studied with renowned contemporary music guru Steve Schick at UC-San Diego. He then found himself in Austin, where he co-founded critically acclaimed band The Weird Weeds. Meanwhile, he also became known for his performances of experimental contemporary music by composers like John Cage, Alvin Lucier, Peter Ablinger, and even revered outsider artist Jandek. He’s also a composer in his own right. So saying Nick Hennies would be doing nothing but playing a single snare drum for twenty minutes is like saying you’d be doing nothing but listening to a single Pink Floyd album for twenty minutes. Yes, I am saying that a single snare drum can equal a Pink Floyd album in depth and complexity. If you’re not a huge fan of Pink Floyd, it will surpass it easily. Just don’t expect him to do any covers.
If Nick Hennies is the stoic liberator of hidden sounds, Bromp Treb is the court jester peddling the wonderful and weird. Perhaps you know him as a member of celebrated avant-rock masters Fat Worm of Error (Oberlin visitors just a couple years back). Bromp Treb is a surprise at every turn, a ritual-like hodgepodge of noises and dramatic gestures, mixed up so much until you’re not sure what is man and what is machine.
“Deculpe, babe” … a song I first heard the summer after 10th grade. I was very sad that summer, listening almost exclusively to the Velvet Underground and Yo La Tengo. Walking by the train tracks at dusk, trying to teach myself to whistle and be “ok on my own”. It was relatively fruitless, but that’s hard to tell when you’re ****** all the time. Then I found this song. A friend showed it to me. I lay down with my hands behind my head and closed me eyes. It was late at night. The words were sweet and sonorous, but the energy was sweeter. Have you ever watched that movie Enter the Void? When I listened to this song, the vinyl crackling hypnotically behind the rhythms, the guitar line drifting fluidly through my brain, I felt like what happens in that movie. Except it wasn’t fucked up or tragic or depressing or scary. It was peaceful, sublime, transcendent. It was a release, a solace, a sensual bliss that seemed to dissipate my sorrows from right before my eyes, like when you wake up startled and confused and wipe the crusty film that formed while you slept from your eyes. My depression was the film; “Desculpe, babe” was the hand smearing the film away. – Plett
My favorite Os Mutantes song is “Que Tem Medo de Brincar de Amor”, from their 1970 album “A Divina Comédia ou Ando Meio Desligado.” It’s a perfect mix of Os Mutantes’ psychedelic rock sound and a more pop-rock, Beach Boys-influenced sound, in terms of its usage of various sound effects (a la “You Still Believe in Me” and many of the other tracks on “Pet Sounds”) and the California-esque accent that Rita Lee takes on at various points throughout the track. – Melissa
The burst of manic laughter that begins A Minha Menina is the perfect way to start a song that sounds sort the Black Lips if they had been playing in the 60’s… and were Brazilian. So maybe not that much like the Black Lips after all. But that same sense of a wild good time is there. A Minha Menina (My Girl) is a song for those days when nothing gets done, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.-Alex
Today marked the first On-Air session of Live From Studio B!! We kicked it off with Novice, an Oberlin based, high energy Math-rock group. Keep your eyes/ears pealed for footage and recordings of the session!
And keep listening to Live From Studio B! Sundays 1-2!