The Bowery Presents
4 Artists 1 Cause: A Benefit Concert for Sandy Relief Efforts with Sleigh Bells, Grizzly Bear, The Antlers, Cults

4 Artists 1 Cause: A Benefit Concert for Sandy Relief Efforts with Sleigh Bells, Grizzly Bear, The Antlers, Cults

Fri, December 14, 2012

Doors: 7:00 pm / Show: 8:00 pm

Terminal 5

New York, NY

$40

Sold Out

This event is all ages

All proceeds go to the Mayor's Fund to Advance New York City in support of hurricane relief efforts.

Sleigh Bells
Sleigh Bells
Based in Brooklyn, NY, Sleigh Bells is the musical collaboration of Derek E. Miller (songwriter, guitarist, producer) and Alexis Krauss (vocals). The two met and formed in 2008, when Miller was waiting tables on Alexis and her mother at a neighborhood Brazilian restaurant. When Miller mentioned that he was looking for a female vocalist for a new musical project, Krauss's mother immediately volunteered her daughter.

Sleigh Bells' unique sound is likely the result of Miller and Krauss's contrasting musical backgrounds; Miller was formerly the guitarist for the post-hardcore band Poison the Well and Krauss was a member of the teen pop group RubyBlue as a teenager. After steadily gaining popularity throughout 2009, Sleigh Bells signed to M.I.A.'s label N.E.E.T. in Spring 2010.

In 2010, Sleigh Bells released their debut full-length album entitled Treats. The album's immediate popularity and the band's reputation as an energetic live act have helped solidify the duo's widespread popularity. Amidst blown-out drum beats, fuzzed guitars and synth-pop sensibilities, Krauss balances each song with a voice that is both forceful and elegant. After playing Pitchfork's summer music festival, Sleigh Bells set out on their North American tour in July 2010.
Grizzly Bear
Grizzly Bear
Grizzly Bear will release their first album in three years on September 18th?via Warp Records. Recorded over the better part of a year, the album represents the band's most charged and concise collection of music to date and follows 2009's critical and commercial breakthrough, 'Veckatimest.' The album title and other details will be revealed soon. Hear a new track here

Grizzly Bear will also kick off an international tour September 16, including their biggest hometown show to date September 24 at Radio City Music Hall in NYC.

'Veckatimest' debuted at #8 on the Billboard 200 and #1 on the Billboard Indie chart in 2009, and was one of the year's most lauded releases. It ranked #1 on the NPR Listener's Poll and Top 10 on year-end lists in The New York Times, Time Magazine, Pitchfork, SPIN, The Village Voice's Pazz & Jop Poll, and many more. In March 2012, The Wall Street Journal's Jim Fusilli declared it "one of the best rock discs of this century so far."
The Antlers
The Antlers
In seven years together, Brooklyn’s The Antlers have created a quiet revolution in thought and sound with their harrowing and often haunted tales of love unmoored, human frailty and emotional evisceration.

On Familiars, their fifth album, The Antlers – vocalist / guitarist Peter Silberman, multi-instrumentalist Darby Cicci, and drummer Michael Lerner – have resumed the journey they began with 2009’s Hospice and continued over the next two albums Burst Apart and Undersea, which found the trio picking their way through a labyrinth of fear, doubt, love and loss against a backdrop of layered textural songs that were as deeply atmospheric as they were anthemic.

More hopeful in mood than its predecessors, the new album emanates a palpable release of despair and an almost operatic verve on nine songs that took shape over the past year and a half.

Familiars moves the Antlers’ emotional and spiritual odyssey further, alongside a palette of sounds that soar and retreat under a canopy of electronic trappings and the steady arrhythmic heartbeat of Lerner’s unnerving drumming. A choir of funereal horns function as a second voice across the songs.

“I wrote the trumpet arrangements as a sort of emotional antagonist,” explains Cicci. “In some ways it acts as more of conscience to an otherwise omniscient narrator. Other times, it’s about giving a voice and personality to the dark, unsympathetic nature of reality, as an obstacle to the narrator’s quest for enlightenment.”
This duality is a persistent force throughout the record, guiding an exploration of the divided self and giving rise to the idea of a Familiar — rather like a guardian angel, your shadow, or your consciousness.

“If there was ever a time when you felt completely lost and you were able to appear to yourself, to give yourself advice and shed light on your situation, what would that be like?” asks Silberman.

Familiars not only shows what that would be like, it demonstrates how that’s achieved over the arc of nine songs.

“I wanted to explore that conversation we’re constantly having with ourselves throughout our lives. So I began to write and sing as two sides of the same person, as estranged twins trying to find each other in a shared mind, and eventually traveling together through a maze of malleable memories.”

“For awhile, I’ve been focused on what it means to be present, and how difficult that can be, living in a world created by your past. The past can be a comfortingly painful place, and it’s easy to get stuck there. In that sense, I think of Familiars as a rescue mission.”

It took The Antlers a year and a half to transform that world into a symbolic and musical language. Recorded by the band at their studio in Brooklyn, Familiars represents an evolution in the band’s musicianship and creative process.

“I’m not sure we really were having any kind of synchronicity back when we started the record. We came together into that through the recording,” says Cicci.

“We became really obsessed with Alice Coltrane’s Journey in Satchidananda, Charles Mingus’ The Black Saint and The Sinner Lady, and Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew,” he adds. “In the context of starting a record, they represented an almost spiritual self-expression, fugue-like repetition of themes, and the liberation of using pure discovery as a finished work.”

“We wanted to connect to the humanity of music from the past,” adds Silberman. “To capture grace and the heart within those performances.”

So this time around The Antlers made a soul record in the truest sense of the word. Sure, they inundated themselves with Al Green, Nina Simone, and The Memphis Boys, but really they were making music about that mysterious and ineffable part of yourself. The metaphysics behind the physics: They found that they had made a record that was able to express the unseen.
Cults
Cults
Static is a breakup album. Just not in the way we think of a breakup album. That cold knot in your stomach when you lose someone? That is not longing for a person. That is dread, uncertainty of what comes next. Madeline Follin and Brian Oblivion of Cults are both 24 years old. Today most people of that age, if not all of us, carry this cold knot inside.

“There’s a feeling our generation has. The feeling there’s always something better around the corner, that everyone is born to be a star,” Brian says. “The feeling that life is waiting for you, and yet it’s not happening. All of that is static.”

Static. The white noise that comes when a signal is lost, or when there are too many signals. What causes an electric shock when two people touch. But also, immobility, distortion.

Television is a heavy influence on Cults. Before the first Cults show, Brian ran to the Salvation Army to pick up old TV set to decorate the stage. Brian Oblivion, his stage name, is lifted from a professor in the movie Videodrome, a guy who only appears as a face on a television. Brian has five televisions in his house. Brian says, “I was thinking about the idea of static being all possible frequencies at once—the everything. I could just stare at it forever.” The final track on this new Cults record, “No Hope,” opens and ends with the sound of broadcasting static. “Burn down the bridges…forget tomorrow,” Madeline sings sweetly on the song.

Cults has always been a band to look to both past and present. When the young duo arrived on the New York scene in 2010 with the perfectly formed debut single “Go Outside,” it was described as Phil Spector with hip-hop sensibilities, glee soaked in reverb. Sometimes, when Madeline’s friends heard the song, they asked her how they got little boys to sing on it. “That’s just me!” she told them. In fact, if you ask Brian to name his favorite album, he’ll name Home Schooled: The ABCs of Kid Soul, a compilation by the Numero Group, a collection of lost, old R&B recorded by children. Brian adores the the crate-digging Chicago reissue label and its dusty, forgotten music. “Whenever we make songs, I picture imaginary bands,” he says.

What make-believe bands can be heard on Static? “I Can Hardly Make You Mine” is Petula Clark pounding a “Downtown” piano beat while fronting a Jesus and Mary Chain maelstrom. The bouncing, shimmering “Always Forever” and “We’ve Got It” rocket girl-group doo-wop into the shoegazer dream-pop stratosphere. “High Road” gallops through a spaghetti western soundscape in a sandstorm of strings and organ, like Morricone teaching us how to walk like an Egyptian. Though such fantasy might be too shallow for the record’s emotional centerpiece, “Were Before,” a duet that is quintessential Cults. “We both needed our own world, just the way were before,” Brian and Madeline sing at the same time, though not necessarily together.

Static is funkier and denser than its predecessor, something immediately apparent from the cool strut of “High Road.” “I started out as a bass player,” Brian says. “That’s how I write songs, on bass.” Oblivion then fleshes the songs out with drums, guitar, piano, farfisa, strings, layers and layers. He plays just about all of the sounds on Static himself, save for slide guitar. “Everything today is party, party, dance, dance nonstop,” Brian says. “There’s room for more moody and introspective dance music. We wanted to make a groovy record.”

There’s a cliché that claims you have your whole life to make your debut album and one year to make your second. The immediacy of internet fame has killed that. Brian and Madeline were raised in San Diego and both attended film school in New York City. At 21, the two moved in together in Manhattan. Cults began merely as apartment hobby, with Brian fiddling with fragments of tunes and Madeline trilling on top. They put songs online. In a matter of days, the two were receiving fan e-mails and gig offers. From there, the blogs quickly sniffed them out. Soon, a contract with Columbia. A tour that lasted nearly three years. A self-titled 2011 debut recorded in schedule gaps. Lollapalooza, All Tomorrows Parties, Bonnaroo, Pitchfork. Malmö, Singapore, Buffalo, Melbourne. By the end of the cycle, Cults were exhausted and separated.

Brian and Madeline began recording Static with friend Shane Stoneback, who co-produced their debut. The process was the same as ever. “I’d be in one room working on lyrics. Brian would be working on finishing a song. We’d come to the point where we couldn’t get any further and switch places.” Madeline enjoyed having a set schedule. She stopped having panic attacks. The former couple found they worked better than when they were together. “We were not as afraid to speak the truth.”

Despite any newfound ease with internal criticism, Cults were bursting with ideas—and recordings. The group found itself with six different versions of songs. “It was my fault,” Brian admits. “If you’re working with a friend, it’s easier to forget you’re spending money.” So the two decided to finish the record with someone they have never worked with before.

Cults took the tracks to Atlanta and producer Ben Allen. They worked in a studio filled with vintage lunch boxes and a control room made of an abandoned boxcar. The fun part in Georgia was hacking away. That string part they worked on for two days? Fuck it, throw it out. Slashing at the songs felt invigorating.

Because really, that is the question lying beneath Static: What can you live without?
Venue Information:
Terminal 5
610 W 56th St
New York, NY, 10019
http://www.terminal5nyc.com/