622 Degraw st.
Brooklyn, NY, 11217
Doors 7:00 PM / Show 8:00 PM
This event is 21 and over
I once came very close to dying (bug-bite, failed organs), and though my life was spared thanks to thanks to modern medicine and a kidney given to me by my father, nonetheless I live with a persisting sense that my time is borrowed. My resolution--what I intend to do with my finite allotment-- is to reach some small, yet conclusive understanding of my life in particular and the world in general; an understanding accomplished, in part, through a combination of music and words.
The last record we made, Hunger & Thirst, is a record that purposefully confuses physical sickness with ontological sickness, i.e. that most desires are only symptoms of the desire to be someone else. This new record picks up where we left off, though this time "purposefully confusing" the idea of time as a place. It imagines that my past is a composite of old houses and apartment buildings, that my memories are these little artifacts strewn about, and then there's me with a single candle, picking up the artifacts one at a time and examining them by the dim light.
Songs as personal as these perhaps ought to be burned or buried rather than be paraded before an audience. But there is something transfigurative in playing music with so many close friends--what starts out as a solemn, solitary attempt is turned into something both communal and cathartic. I think we even have fun at times.
A New Kind of House (the title itself is borrowed from the brilliant poetry of Zach Schomburg) was artfully recorded on location (our house) by repeat-collaborator Paul Laxer; the artwork was beautifully realized by Ricky Delucco, and we have Tender Loving Empire to thank for so tenderly helping us put out a record a second time.
kyle ray morton / 01.11.2011
There is a stillness between kissing lips that belies the beating hearts connected to them, a calm in the simple gesture that holds tumultuous emotions close, keeping their caprice from pulling you apart. For the past three years, Radiation City has scored the soundtrack to relationships such as these. Moments where Quiet/Bombast, Future/Past, Man/Woman, Hope/Fear are conjoined; from their use of modern electronic sounds and the restraint of classic bossa records, to the urgency and harmony of northern soul, the band has codified seemingly disparate ideas into a sound and ethos that is at once refreshing and classic. Their second LP Animals In The Median was released May 21st.
Founded in 2009 amid the glow of one budding love affair, Radiation City quickly blossomed into a family, finding itself with a second couple and another multi instrumentalist besides. If the quintet's early live shows and debut LP The Hands That Take You quickly earned them a reputation as one of Portland, Oregon's most promising young acts, the subsequent national tours and 2011's EP Cool Nightmare made good on that promise. The band's expanding soundscape of new romanticism has drawn accolades from NPR, Time, and KEXP to name a few.
The new full length features 12 songs recorded over the span of a year in both rural Washington and urban Portland. You can hear a focused songwriting, lush arrangements, and gorgeous harmonies. You can hear the celebration and lament of a sea change year which saw the passing of matriarchs, the betrayals and betrothals of loved ones, the baring and bruising of hopeful hearts in an increasingly dangerous world. Moreover, you can hear a band edified, coming into their own in rich and simple gesture.
$13.00 - $15.00