2nd show added by overwhelming demand!!
Marina & The Diamonds
MS MR
Sat, August 18, 2012
Doors: 7:00 pm / Show: 8:00 pm
Webster Hall
New York, NY
$25
Sold Out
This event is 18 and over
http://www.bowerypresents.com/event/122931/
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Marina & The Diamonds
Pop is cooler than it has ever been. No revelations there. Somewhat ironic perhaps though that the jewel in this new crown of credibility gut-laughs in the face of any notion of 'cool'. Marina (And The Diamonds) Diamandis is living, breathing, belting, vogue-ing proof of the unfathomable possibilities contained within organic pop in 2010. "I really couldn't give a damn whether pop's in fashion this week or not, I'd be writing the same music, regardless" she scoffs.
She's the complete songwriter/performer. 50% Greek, 50%Welsh, 100% frolicking fairytale creature. A girl with virtually no musical schooling, for whom heart scorching choruses miraculously seem to appear at the tips of her fingers with each preposterous limb fling. A voice that both lures sailors to shores and wards ships from rocks. A mind that hacks apart the fabric of Now and serves it up in an ice-cream sundae for all to guzzle down. A performer whose onstage movement has been reminding lackluster gig-goers across the land the true meaning of 'show time'. But like all the best popstars, dissecting their charms does them no justice. For Marina possesses that oh-so elusive ingredient. The one that had its name not been forsaken by reality television's chart napalm strike, we might dare term something like 'x-factor'. Some of the greatest should-be British smash hits this side of the Millennium aside, Marina just has it. The presence, the poise, the patter. A sonic boom of a laugh that seemingly punctuates her every sentence. She's five foot five of hourglass sensation in waiting, and this is her year.
Marina moved a total of seventeen times before she turned eighteen. Between her birthplace of Abergavenny in rural Wales, London and later her father's traditional family home in Greece. She found herself torn between staunch earthy ideals of her dad's family and the brain-microwaving effect of generation-Y culture. "Sometimes I feel like a perfect poster child for this generation. We know nothing," she laughs. "Nothing about politics or the real world. I have ADD, I can't concentrate on anything. It's awful; it's a horrible way to be. But this realisation has fueled many of my songs." It's this self-deprecating critique and brutal honesty that forges Marina's distinct brand of post-modern pop sheen. Whilst her refrains nod to a deep-seated passion for hook sculpting, she insists that her choice of medium was born from a 24-year itch. "I think nearly all of what I do musically is powered by an agenda. I want to convey so much sometimes it feels like there's just not enough songs." Whilst Marina never learned any instrument until she taught herself piano aged-19, eight years of dance lessons and a stint at an American ex-pat school in Greece provided a grounding that gave her a mastery of rhythm, both on record and in her trademark choreography. It also birthed a fixation with Americanisation and all that comes with. "I came of age as Britney did," she recalls. "It was an amazing time to fall in love with pop. She was my favourite. But I guess it was a time that leaves you with a lot of questions about pop culture for female artists." And therein lies Marina's ongoing quandry: an unstoppable passion for ridiculous supersized chart-fodder but a cultural yearning for something more.
The start of Marina's 'career' was a peculiar one. "I never even really knew what a chorus was until I went into the studio with a producer," she states, "I would just create a lift in mood when the time felt right or the story had been told"..." My writing had all been either instinctual or accidental up until then." After the standard couple of years sat round the house in her pants recording demos on her laptop, rattling out a series of would-be hits on her tod, it was time to talk to labels. But whereas most artists possessing their marbles would do so with what's known in the industry as 'a manager', Marina refused. After a string of meetings with increasingly bemused men in suits -either wanting to mould her through their 'big, bad machine' or refusing flatly to talk business directly to her, she inked a deal with Warners through 679. There she was allowed the freedom to become the star that she wanted to be.
As tends to be the way with those that radiate talent from their every pore, special people want to be around them. Before long the best producers, directors and co-writers in the UK were knocking, not to mention perhaps the most heralded indie imprint on earth, Neon Gold, who prefaced her album with a series of EPs and singles. In 2009, the blueprint for her debut, 'The Family Jewels' slowly came together. She refined gleaming new incarnations of her original bedroom compositions.
'Are You Satisfied?' commences proceedings with Marina's trademark tidal-wave refrains and nattering narrative verses. 'Shampain's a romping, pulsing monster-hit-to-be, with one of Marina's most soaring choruses to date. Sleeping giant 'I Am Not A Robot', with a stunning promo video courtesy of Number One fan, Rankin, stands as arguably her most accomplished moment: bold, beautiful and pertinently true. The introduction of Pascal Gabriel (Ladyhawke) yielded 'Girls', a stonking slab of irrepressible hook-lines, showcasing a heritage of glowing Greek melodies, unabashedly immediate songwriting and clever punch lines. "It's a call for women to stop being their own enemies," she says. "These days you're either a nun or a whore, to be both and neither, all in one. I want to help redefine women's place in society".
Marina proved as endeared within the indie fraternity as the mainstream, showcased in bonkers, thunderous anti-music mogul cavalcade 'Mowgli's Road' and a surge of raptured attention from NME including a coveted prime spot upon its Radar tour. ''Obsessions', an early plaintive piano ballad of epic serenity and beleaguered lust was eventually taken to the next level by key collaborator Liam Howe. It was duly released on Valentines Day. 'Hollywood', the culmination of a lifelong love/hate fixation with US trash culture was produced by none other than Spice Girls hit- maker Biff Stannard, unearthing an earth-shattering charge of rolling classic pop. The hit parade awaits. 'The Outsider is defiant and infectious with a serious beat whilst 'Hermit The Frog' showcases Marina's penchant for billowing Kate Bush-style hooks. 'Rootless' is collision of icicle notes and galloping rhythms. 'Numb' could be the swooning, yearning accompaniment to the closing moments of a lovelorn masquerade ball. Before 'Guilty' whisks you off in a maelstrom of off-kilter melodies, panic and resolve before your heart has had a chance to catch up with itself, leaving you instantly pining for more.
The final track to complete the album is the soon to be smash "Oh No!". Written on a trip to LA a week after The Family Jewels was mastered, the song encompasses all of Marina's fears and aspirations for the future. "The song was written in response to be terrified of not achieving what I say I want to achieve every time I open my big mouth. It's my part ii to Mowgli's Road. I was paralysed by fear before my trip to the states and couldn't stop thinking about being a failure "etc" and was convinced that I'd become a self-fulfilling prophecy if my brain didn't shut up and stop being so negative. So I put it in a song. Mowgli's questioned who I want to be, "Oh No!" confirms it. It made me feel confident again after a shaky 6 months. Life is just a barrel of laughs at end of day, anyway!"
"It comes down to a desire to want to connect with people on a personal level. I like making people feel better about themselves and to remind them that they're not alone" she ponders of her first long-player. "For me, it's a catharsis. I guess they're all just indulgent letters to myself, but for the eyes of anyone who feels like looking, of course."
She's the complete songwriter/performer. 50% Greek, 50%Welsh, 100% frolicking fairytale creature. A girl with virtually no musical schooling, for whom heart scorching choruses miraculously seem to appear at the tips of her fingers with each preposterous limb fling. A voice that both lures sailors to shores and wards ships from rocks. A mind that hacks apart the fabric of Now and serves it up in an ice-cream sundae for all to guzzle down. A performer whose onstage movement has been reminding lackluster gig-goers across the land the true meaning of 'show time'. But like all the best popstars, dissecting their charms does them no justice. For Marina possesses that oh-so elusive ingredient. The one that had its name not been forsaken by reality television's chart napalm strike, we might dare term something like 'x-factor'. Some of the greatest should-be British smash hits this side of the Millennium aside, Marina just has it. The presence, the poise, the patter. A sonic boom of a laugh that seemingly punctuates her every sentence. She's five foot five of hourglass sensation in waiting, and this is her year.
Marina moved a total of seventeen times before she turned eighteen. Between her birthplace of Abergavenny in rural Wales, London and later her father's traditional family home in Greece. She found herself torn between staunch earthy ideals of her dad's family and the brain-microwaving effect of generation-Y culture. "Sometimes I feel like a perfect poster child for this generation. We know nothing," she laughs. "Nothing about politics or the real world. I have ADD, I can't concentrate on anything. It's awful; it's a horrible way to be. But this realisation has fueled many of my songs." It's this self-deprecating critique and brutal honesty that forges Marina's distinct brand of post-modern pop sheen. Whilst her refrains nod to a deep-seated passion for hook sculpting, she insists that her choice of medium was born from a 24-year itch. "I think nearly all of what I do musically is powered by an agenda. I want to convey so much sometimes it feels like there's just not enough songs." Whilst Marina never learned any instrument until she taught herself piano aged-19, eight years of dance lessons and a stint at an American ex-pat school in Greece provided a grounding that gave her a mastery of rhythm, both on record and in her trademark choreography. It also birthed a fixation with Americanisation and all that comes with. "I came of age as Britney did," she recalls. "It was an amazing time to fall in love with pop. She was my favourite. But I guess it was a time that leaves you with a lot of questions about pop culture for female artists." And therein lies Marina's ongoing quandry: an unstoppable passion for ridiculous supersized chart-fodder but a cultural yearning for something more.
The start of Marina's 'career' was a peculiar one. "I never even really knew what a chorus was until I went into the studio with a producer," she states, "I would just create a lift in mood when the time felt right or the story had been told"..." My writing had all been either instinctual or accidental up until then." After the standard couple of years sat round the house in her pants recording demos on her laptop, rattling out a series of would-be hits on her tod, it was time to talk to labels. But whereas most artists possessing their marbles would do so with what's known in the industry as 'a manager', Marina refused. After a string of meetings with increasingly bemused men in suits -either wanting to mould her through their 'big, bad machine' or refusing flatly to talk business directly to her, she inked a deal with Warners through 679. There she was allowed the freedom to become the star that she wanted to be.
As tends to be the way with those that radiate talent from their every pore, special people want to be around them. Before long the best producers, directors and co-writers in the UK were knocking, not to mention perhaps the most heralded indie imprint on earth, Neon Gold, who prefaced her album with a series of EPs and singles. In 2009, the blueprint for her debut, 'The Family Jewels' slowly came together. She refined gleaming new incarnations of her original bedroom compositions.
'Are You Satisfied?' commences proceedings with Marina's trademark tidal-wave refrains and nattering narrative verses. 'Shampain's a romping, pulsing monster-hit-to-be, with one of Marina's most soaring choruses to date. Sleeping giant 'I Am Not A Robot', with a stunning promo video courtesy of Number One fan, Rankin, stands as arguably her most accomplished moment: bold, beautiful and pertinently true. The introduction of Pascal Gabriel (Ladyhawke) yielded 'Girls', a stonking slab of irrepressible hook-lines, showcasing a heritage of glowing Greek melodies, unabashedly immediate songwriting and clever punch lines. "It's a call for women to stop being their own enemies," she says. "These days you're either a nun or a whore, to be both and neither, all in one. I want to help redefine women's place in society".
Marina proved as endeared within the indie fraternity as the mainstream, showcased in bonkers, thunderous anti-music mogul cavalcade 'Mowgli's Road' and a surge of raptured attention from NME including a coveted prime spot upon its Radar tour. ''Obsessions', an early plaintive piano ballad of epic serenity and beleaguered lust was eventually taken to the next level by key collaborator Liam Howe. It was duly released on Valentines Day. 'Hollywood', the culmination of a lifelong love/hate fixation with US trash culture was produced by none other than Spice Girls hit- maker Biff Stannard, unearthing an earth-shattering charge of rolling classic pop. The hit parade awaits. 'The Outsider is defiant and infectious with a serious beat whilst 'Hermit The Frog' showcases Marina's penchant for billowing Kate Bush-style hooks. 'Rootless' is collision of icicle notes and galloping rhythms. 'Numb' could be the swooning, yearning accompaniment to the closing moments of a lovelorn masquerade ball. Before 'Guilty' whisks you off in a maelstrom of off-kilter melodies, panic and resolve before your heart has had a chance to catch up with itself, leaving you instantly pining for more.
The final track to complete the album is the soon to be smash "Oh No!". Written on a trip to LA a week after The Family Jewels was mastered, the song encompasses all of Marina's fears and aspirations for the future. "The song was written in response to be terrified of not achieving what I say I want to achieve every time I open my big mouth. It's my part ii to Mowgli's Road. I was paralysed by fear before my trip to the states and couldn't stop thinking about being a failure "etc" and was convinced that I'd become a self-fulfilling prophecy if my brain didn't shut up and stop being so negative. So I put it in a song. Mowgli's questioned who I want to be, "Oh No!" confirms it. It made me feel confident again after a shaky 6 months. Life is just a barrel of laughs at end of day, anyway!"
"It comes down to a desire to want to connect with people on a personal level. I like making people feel better about themselves and to remind them that they're not alone" she ponders of her first long-player. "For me, it's a catharsis. I guess they're all just indulgent letters to myself, but for the eyes of anyone who feels like looking, of course."
MS MR
Edward Scissorhands. The board game Operation. Sonic Youth. Claudia Schiffer? Plastic monkeys! These are among the pop-culture artifacts that appear in the epilepsy-inducing slideshow video for “Hurricane,” the first single from MS MR. Until recently shrouded in anonymity, the atmospheric indie-pop duo from New York City has proven universally intriguing, earning breathless attention from Pitchfork, Forbes, and Perez Hilton alike.
In the trip-hoppy “Hurricane,” smoky-voiced Lizzy Plapinger sings, “Welcome to the inner workings of my mind/So dark and foul I can’t disguise,” while a push-and-pull of echoey strings and staccato percussion (courtesy of the producer stylings of Ms Mr other half Max Hershenow) envelop her voice. Technically, the song, which hit No. 1 on Hype Machine, is about Hurricane Irene, which careened towards Gotham last year. The video? Not so much.
“I see something different every time I watch it,” concedes Max. “The video is sort of a cross section of the images we've collected on Tumblr, which we essentially use as an ongoing mood board.” If there’s one philosophy driving MS MR (pronounced “miss mister”) —dabblers in chaos theory who’re as goofy as they are thoughtful—it’s media-theorist Marshall McLuhan’s famous observation that the medium is the message. MS MR are so committed to that sentiment they handpicked each “Hurricane” image themselves.
“We’re interested in exploring the nature of mixed media and collage,” says Lizzy, “and how music transcends all these various platforms.” Chief among them: MS MR’s lively—if thoroughly mystifying—Tumblr page, which they unprecedentedly used to debut their second EP, the critically acclaimed Candy Bar Creep Show, song-by-song. (Their first release, Ghost City USA, was a self-released collection of demos.)
The EP, which sets the foundation for MS MR’s still-untitled album (out early next spring), references everything from ’80s to’90s pop, doo-wop to country. That kitchen-sink aesthetic won the attention of vintage-sound wiz Tom Elmhirst (Adele, Amy Winehouse), who mixed and did some additional production on it at the legendary Electric Lady Studios. “Tom helped us more fully realize the album as we imagined it” says Max. “He responds to music more emotionally and viscerally than anyone I’ve ever met. It was the perfect match.”
The aural Jenga that is MS MR was born of Lizzy and Max’s vast inspirations. “We both listen to a lot of different music from all different genres and time periods,” says Max. “So we like to approach each song as its own project and experiment with combining unexpected elements.”
It’s a stroke of serendipity that Lizzy and Max are even making music together. They may giggle uncontrollably and complete each other’s thoughts, but these Vassar alums never really knew each other during college. Lizzy was a media-studies major, releasing records under her burgeoning imprint Neon Gold. (She’s gone on to release records by artists such as Passion Pit and Ellie Goulding.) Max was an urban-studies major with a concentration in modern dance, and started composing music for his choreographies. They met fleetingly through friends. But really connected after they graduated, when Lizzy needed an unbiased sounding board for her secret project, and Max was looking for new artists to collaborate with.
“There was sort of an element of Internet dating to it,” Max says, laughing. “Throw caution to the wind! Send someone an email, hope for the best.” He liked what he heard, which only terrified Lizzy more. “I was nervous because I had never sung in front of anyone before, so when he told me he was interested I actually put it off for a few months.”
They finally connected three months later in December 2010. To find their footing as collaborators, they recorded a sweeping cover of Patrick Wolf’s “Time of My Life” in Max’s closet-turned-studio. Curious to see where else the music could take them, they decided to give it another go and try their hand at some original material. This led to the swelling, mercurial tune we know now as “Bones." "It's quite a personal song and definitely set a tone for the band," says Lizzy. “In person, we're quite upbeat and bubbly, but the music is a much more honest space and outlet for us."
Only now, it’s become public. MS MR finally unveiled their live personae in March with a rocked-out gig at Brooklyn’s respected Glasslands Gallery. "I think people maybe expected two people on stage with a laptop, but we were adamant from the beginning that we would never do that!" says Lizzy. "We wanted the live show to do the recoded tracks justice," continues Max, "so we perform as a band to give it the lushness and energy we aim for while recording." Since their Glasslands show, they’ve moved on to bigger venues while touring with Marina and the Diamonds, an outing they affectionately refer to as their "training-wheels tour.”
“Really,” continues Max, “this whole experience has been about discovering undiscovered parts of ourselves."
In the trip-hoppy “Hurricane,” smoky-voiced Lizzy Plapinger sings, “Welcome to the inner workings of my mind/So dark and foul I can’t disguise,” while a push-and-pull of echoey strings and staccato percussion (courtesy of the producer stylings of Ms Mr other half Max Hershenow) envelop her voice. Technically, the song, which hit No. 1 on Hype Machine, is about Hurricane Irene, which careened towards Gotham last year. The video? Not so much.
“I see something different every time I watch it,” concedes Max. “The video is sort of a cross section of the images we've collected on Tumblr, which we essentially use as an ongoing mood board.” If there’s one philosophy driving MS MR (pronounced “miss mister”) —dabblers in chaos theory who’re as goofy as they are thoughtful—it’s media-theorist Marshall McLuhan’s famous observation that the medium is the message. MS MR are so committed to that sentiment they handpicked each “Hurricane” image themselves.
“We’re interested in exploring the nature of mixed media and collage,” says Lizzy, “and how music transcends all these various platforms.” Chief among them: MS MR’s lively—if thoroughly mystifying—Tumblr page, which they unprecedentedly used to debut their second EP, the critically acclaimed Candy Bar Creep Show, song-by-song. (Their first release, Ghost City USA, was a self-released collection of demos.)
The EP, which sets the foundation for MS MR’s still-untitled album (out early next spring), references everything from ’80s to’90s pop, doo-wop to country. That kitchen-sink aesthetic won the attention of vintage-sound wiz Tom Elmhirst (Adele, Amy Winehouse), who mixed and did some additional production on it at the legendary Electric Lady Studios. “Tom helped us more fully realize the album as we imagined it” says Max. “He responds to music more emotionally and viscerally than anyone I’ve ever met. It was the perfect match.”
The aural Jenga that is MS MR was born of Lizzy and Max’s vast inspirations. “We both listen to a lot of different music from all different genres and time periods,” says Max. “So we like to approach each song as its own project and experiment with combining unexpected elements.”
It’s a stroke of serendipity that Lizzy and Max are even making music together. They may giggle uncontrollably and complete each other’s thoughts, but these Vassar alums never really knew each other during college. Lizzy was a media-studies major, releasing records under her burgeoning imprint Neon Gold. (She’s gone on to release records by artists such as Passion Pit and Ellie Goulding.) Max was an urban-studies major with a concentration in modern dance, and started composing music for his choreographies. They met fleetingly through friends. But really connected after they graduated, when Lizzy needed an unbiased sounding board for her secret project, and Max was looking for new artists to collaborate with.
“There was sort of an element of Internet dating to it,” Max says, laughing. “Throw caution to the wind! Send someone an email, hope for the best.” He liked what he heard, which only terrified Lizzy more. “I was nervous because I had never sung in front of anyone before, so when he told me he was interested I actually put it off for a few months.”
They finally connected three months later in December 2010. To find their footing as collaborators, they recorded a sweeping cover of Patrick Wolf’s “Time of My Life” in Max’s closet-turned-studio. Curious to see where else the music could take them, they decided to give it another go and try their hand at some original material. This led to the swelling, mercurial tune we know now as “Bones." "It's quite a personal song and definitely set a tone for the band," says Lizzy. “In person, we're quite upbeat and bubbly, but the music is a much more honest space and outlet for us."
Only now, it’s become public. MS MR finally unveiled their live personae in March with a rocked-out gig at Brooklyn’s respected Glasslands Gallery. "I think people maybe expected two people on stage with a laptop, but we were adamant from the beginning that we would never do that!" says Lizzy. "We wanted the live show to do the recoded tracks justice," continues Max, "so we perform as a band to give it the lushness and energy we aim for while recording." Since their Glasslands show, they’ve moved on to bigger venues while touring with Marina and the Diamonds, an outing they affectionately refer to as their "training-wheels tour.”
“Really,” continues Max, “this whole experience has been about discovering undiscovered parts of ourselves."
