R5 Productions FREE Summer Concerts Presents:
Woods w/ Parquet Courts
221 N Columbus Blvd
Philadelphia, PA, 19123
This event is 21 and over
With a title like At Echo Lake, the fifth album from New York's Woods intimates a modern rock aesthetic fully informed by historical manifestations of teenage along with a concomitant feel for the specifics of time and place. The distance between 2007's At Rear House and 2010's At Echo Lake may at first seem only semantic but it more properly represents a move from a kind of informal back porch jam ethos to a fully-committed vision of the infinite possibilities of group playing.
Over the past few years Woods have established themselves as an anomaly in a world of freaks. They were an odd proposition even in the outré company of vocalist/guitarist/label owner Jeremy Earl's Woodsist roster, perpetually out of time, committed to songsmanship in an age of noise, drone and improvisation, to extended soloing, oblique instrumentals and the usurping use of tapes and F/X in an age of dead-end singer-songwriters. Recent live shows have seen them best confuse the two, playing beautifully-constructed songs torn apart by fuzztone jams and odd electronics.
At Echo Lake feels like a diamond-sharp distillation of the turbulent power of their live shows, in much the same way that The Grateful Dead's "Dark Star" single amplified and engulfed the planetary aspect of their improvised takes. Some of the material here – the opening "Blood Dries Darker", the euphoric "Mornin' Time" – is so lush that lesser brains would've succumbed to the appeal of strings and horns but At Echo Lake is more Fifth Dimension than Notorious Byrd Brothers, nowhere more so than on "From The Horn", a track that is as beautiful in its assault on form as "Eight Miles High" or Swell Maps' "Midget Submarines". But despite the instrumental innovation that the album heralds – G. Lucas Cranes' psychedelic tapework on "Suffering Season", guest musician Matthew Valentine's harmonica and modified banjo/sitar on "Time Fading Lines" – At Echo Lake is all about the vocals.
Woods' secret weapon is the quality of Earl's voice, osmosing the naive style of Jad Fair, Jonathan Richman and Neil Young while re-thinking it as a discipline and a tradition. Here he is singing at the peak of his powers, in a high soulful style that is bolstered by heavenly arrangements of backing vocals. At Echo Lake feels like the transmission point for teenage garage from the past to the future. Deformed by contemporary experiments, bolstered by magical traditions from the past, it's the sound of now, right here, At Echo Lake.
"Songs of Shame performs some sleight-of-hand by sounding private and homespun yet also not just accessible but immediately lovable... has that almost subliminal ability to make one want to move in to listen more closely. And once you've been drawn in for a good listen, it becomes difficult not to want to come back for many more." -Pitchfork
"Tons of great acts played the Woodsist/Todd P. showcase at Mrs. Beas (No Age, Crystal Stilts, The Oh Sees and Blank Dogs just to name a few), but the one that struck the biggest chord with me was this Brooklyn group. Crafting tight and beautifully lighthearted ghostly folkish songs — they are one of the finest bands playing in the unbelievably deep Brooklyn scene. I've seen them a bunch, and each time I get more excited about their sound." MTV.com, Buzzworthy
Though made up of Texan transplants, Parquet Courts are a New York band. Throw out the countless shallow Brooklyn bands of the blasé 2000's: Light Up Gold is a conscious effort to draw from the rich culture of the city - the bands like Sonic Youth, Bob Dylan, and the Velvet Underground that are not from New York, but of it. A panoramic landscape of dilapidated corner-stores and crowded apartments is superimposed over bare-bones Americana, leaving little room for romance or sentiment. It's punk, it's American, it's New York… it's the color of something you were looking for.
The band's first proper LP, Light Up Gold, is a dynamic and diverse foray into the back alleys of the American DIY underground. Bright guitars swirl serpentine over looping, groovy post-punk bass lines and drums that border on robotic precision. While the initial rawness of the band's early output remains, the songwriting has gracefully evolved. Primary wordsmiths A. Savage and Austin Brown combine for a dynamic lyrical experience, one part an erudite overflow of ideas, the other an exercise in laid-back observation. Lyrically dense, the poetry is in how it flows along with the melody, often times as locked-in as the rhythm section.