Fouquet recently performed at the Norwood Club in New York, celebrating the release of her EP Tiny Heaven. Veteran players G.E. Smith (former SNL band leader and Hall and Oates guitarist) and Jon Carin (Pink Floyd and Industry) played by her side. Richard Gere and his wife Carey Lowell were spotted among the audience members, listening intently to the up-and-coming French-American singer/songwriter.

Her sound is marked by strong acoustic strumming, often unique chord structures and catchy chord progressions that remain with you long after they have ended. Tiny Heaven features a mix of pop songs and folk-rock ballads. “You’re the same as me” is definitely a crowd favorite with its upbeat tune and lyrics that are easy to relate to if you’ve been in your twenties. The tracks “Brokenhearted” and “Missing” showcase Gigi’s wide vocal range over powerfully melancholic lyrics.

Gigi has undeniable stage presence and attracts a rowdy crowd of twenty-somethings making her shows a fun and entertaining place to spend your night. Her next performance is tonight at 10pm, May 7, at Pianos in New York City. Check out her myspace page for updates on other upcoming shows http://www.myspace.com/gigifouquetmusic.

Our dear friends in Ninjasonik opened, but were one ninja short. Between obscene rhymes and swigs of beer, Reverend McFly broke the news that Telli “Fuck Up Your Sneakers” Gramz had been arrested for something or another and was spending the evening in jail (I’m following up to see if we can get some details on what this was all about). Not sure if he’s still in custody, but either way I found this to be a good opportunity to fuck around with Obamicon.Me. Hence:

The thoughts and prayers of Musicology are with you, Telli, wherever you may be.

Even sans Telli, Ninjasonik put on their usual spastic-high-on-Sparks-and-who-knows-what-else show, and were followed by cool sets from (I’m not fucking with you) a “radical marching band” called the Rude Mechanical Orchestra and Spank Rock.

For their set, M&K pointed a camera at the crowd and projected the video onto the screen behind them. It was a nice nod to their beloved Brooklyn scene (aw shucks, guys…) and it also made it look like they were backed by a floating black-and-white zombie army. Note the spooky scenster demons hovering behind Kim in the picture I stole from Flickr:

The set was great, happy, raucous etc. Everything you’d expect from the cutest couple in Brooklyn (Matt even brought his adorable gray-haired parents!). But it was not without its share of tragedy. Your humble blogger, swept up in the sweaty tidal wave of rock and roll, managed to crowd surf his way onstage. Other kids had done the same thing, and stage dove back into the crowd without incident.

I was not so lucky.

After waddling up to the edge and gesturing to the first few rows of bodies that I was coming, I lept, trusting that my scene, my neighbors, would be there for me. My faith in Brooklyn died that night. I am not a fat man, readers, but nonetheless the crowd split in two like the Red Sea before Moses and I landed on my back. At the end of the song, Matt noted my personal tragedy, telling the audience that if they don’t like crowd surfers, they can give them wedgies, “But when someone stage dives you’re supposed to catch them.” Thanks for the thought, Matt.

But I’m still aching. That cane I was hobbling on last week is back in use today, friends, and I’m starting to think that I might be too old for this shit.

This post is about Deerhunter, but there are several things I should have shared over a month ago. Here’s how autumn went:

I participated in the Zombie Pub Crawl in Minneapolis about a week before Halloween (see pic above). Ten to fifteen blocks of Minneapolis were overrun by young adults dressed as every type of zombie. I believe the event broke the world record for largest zombie gathering, but no one knows for sure because the organizers insist on keeping it informal. Damn straight.

The highlight was when I was aggressively bossing some zombie drinks in some bar’s outdoor drinkin’ area and four zombies stumbled out of a city bus full of horrified mortals. The zombies immediately fell into place with thousands of other zombies on the street, while the pod of real humans zipped away to safety. It was mayhem! I saw at least two windows broken because zombies were doing that thing they do where they slam up against the window RIGHT behind their victim without warning. The added bonus of the Minneapolis ZPC was that I discovered Cadillac Kolstad and the Flats. They look and play the 50s style rock n’ roll act perfectly. Check them out – I guarantee satisfaction. Apparently they have a regular Sunday night gig at Palmer’s.

Moving on, Yeasayer were amazing live at the Pabst Theater in Milwaukee. They sounded nothing like what I’ve heard on their MySpace. They sounded like Animal Collective played by the Fleet Foxes. These being two of my three favorite live acts I saw this year (Deerhunter is number one!), I was understandably excited. There were lots of hippies there too, but they enjoyed the music the same way the indie kids did. It was sort of magical for those distinct camps to share appreciation for the same live act. Sort of like I imagine My Morning Jacket was received during their fabled Bonnaroo performance this past summer.

Later, I saw Wolf Parade play a solid set at The Majestic in Madison. The band is great, but the live show doesn’t add too much. The best part, though, was turning right out of The Majestic and seeing the legendary drummer Clyde Stubblefield inside Madison’s playing his weekly gig there.

Most recently I saw Disappears, Times New Viking and Deerhunter at the High Noon Saloon in Madison. Like Wolf Parade, Times New Viking didn’t too much that I couldn’t hear on the album. The drummer kind of pissed me off. But the keyboardist was cute and I like the way she carries herself. Props to Disappears for rocking out hard, beginning to end. But I wasn’t really intrigued beyond that.

Anyway, Deerhunter played the best show I’ve seen in a while. At the time of the show I was in the middle of a serious Sonic Youth binge, and I hadn’t yet heard Deerhunter’s October 2008 release, Microcastle. I stood in the front against the stage and right in front of Bradford Cox. I think a lot of the reeverb went over my head, so all I heard were tight, distorted guitar riffs played really, really loudly. I couldn’t hear the vocals except for what my mind superimposed based on the shapes Bradford made with his mouth and the varied constriction of his neck. And it sounded amazing. The guitars conversed with one another when they weren’t self-destructing in a textured squall. That, for me, is the best sound. Sonic Youth does it perfectly, and at this particular show, Deerhunter achieved temporary equality.

Microcastle was a big disappointment the first time I listened. It sounded nothing like I remembered from the concert. The conversing guitars I went so nuts over were de-emphasized. There was more sway-inducing ambience than sharp tunes. I am not quite capable of describing the differences in a musically intelligent way, but I think my disappointment is clear. But then I listened to Microcastle several times a day for two weeks. It is a phenomenal album! Again, I’ll leave it to someone else to describe exactly why, but I know I hear what they’re talking about. Microcastle is definitely one of my three favorite albums of 2008.

Anyway, something disturbing happened during the Deerhunter show. Bradford was chatting away during a break between songs and got on the topic of local bands. He yelled, “What are the best bands in Madison?” No one had an answer. After literally 10 minutes of uncomfortable banter aimed at getting out favorite local bands out of the crowd, it became apparent that there ARE no great bands from Madison. That was a huge disappointment.

Andrew is a contributor to musicology. And he’s usually much handsomer than the photo above would lead you to believe.

At their best, Bishop Allen makes me feel like I am cuddling with a really adorable puppy right after a break-up. I am sad–heartbroken, even–but this is tempered by the cuteness of the thing on my lap (the puppy or excellent pop music, respectively). And, in this instance, “cute” does not equal “me being dismissive.” It equals “geuine enthusiastic emotion.” In other words, Matt and Kim cute, not baby-chicken-on-a-kitten cute.

This weekend, I saw Bishop Allen on the second night of their two-night stand at the Music Hall of Williamsburg in Brooklyn. Their set was loaded with new songs, presumably from their upcoming release Grr…, and judging by what I heard, we’ve got a lot to look forward to. While a few of their earlier songs can border on cloying (see: “Click, Click, Click, Click“), the newer material seems to strike the balance between sweetness and substance that made “Rain” one of my go to summer songs in ‘07. I was especially struck by the song “Clementines,” a forlorn little tune that builds from a ballad into a full-on sad-rock anthem so passionately delivered that it gets away with the coming of age/ripening fruit metaphor at the song’s center (“Though the years have been unkind / like a winter clementine / we can only come of age in the cold”).

Also, I’d be a a stupid idiot if I didn’t give some love to Savoir Adore, easily the most impressive of the opening acts. Their songs are tight and carefully crafted pop-rock numbers, and Deidre Muro’s voice has a heft and versatility that warrant comparisons to Jenny Lewis and Zooey Deschanel. Expect big things.

M83 takes their name from Messier 83, a spiral galaxy in the constellation Hydra, and the name is perfect match for their brand of tripped-out cosmic shoegaze. Last Friday, I dug the hell out of the first two-thirds of their set in NYC before I crashed headlong into Webster Hall’s no readmittance policy (who would’ve guessed a ticket and a wristband weren’t sufficient evidence I wasn’t trying to scam them?), and while I allegedly missed them playing some cool unreleased material, I had managed to see them play most of my favorites.

The surprise of the night (aside from finding myself stuck outside the venue, alone and cranky in the East Village) was how neatly M83’s eerie electro translates live. The presence of a live drummer tethers the band’s occasional tendency to float off into Enya-esque airiness and the stage seems to give them a bit more of a rock & roll edge than their albums would lead you to expect. Tour dates are below, and if you go, give me the play-by-play on the new material. I bet the set ends with fireworks, puppies, and a special guest appearance by Thurston Moore in which he sings a special song mocking stupid idiots who get themselves accidentally locked out of shows.

Also, while we’re talking M83, check out Pitchfork for info on their “We Own the Sky” video contest. If you’re of the cinematic persuasion, you can submit a video for the song that some (namely me) consider the best track on Saturdays=Youth. Frontman Anthony Gonzalez will choose his favorite vid early next year.

M83 & School of Seven Bells – 2008 Tour Dates [via Brooklyn Vegan]:
11/18 Boston, MA @ Middle East Downstairs
11/19 Montreal, QC @ Studio Juste Pour Rire
11/20 Toronto, ON @ Opera House
11/21 Chicago, IL @ Bottom Lounge
11/22 Minneapolis, MN @ Triple Rock Social Club
11/25 Seattle, WA @ Neumo’s
11/26 Vancouver, BC @ Richards On Richards
11/27 Portland, OR @ Doug Fir Lounge
11/28 San Francisco, CA @ Fillmore
11/29 Los Angeles, CA @ Henry Fonda Theater

If it hasn’t already swept through your town or sold out, do your damndest to snap up tickets to the Rock and Roll Means Well Tour, a happy roots-rock affair co-headlined by barroom heroes the Hold Steady and Drive-By Truckers (dates below). I had the fancy fortune of seeing these guys storm the shittiest venue in New York and manage to fill it with enough noise and intimacy to rival your local pub.

And it is in this spirit of noise and intimacy that I intend drop my pose of flippant assholery for one post. This show, especially Craig Finn & Co.’s set, reminded me of why I dig live music so much. For me, for you, for everybody who can muster any semblance of human emotion, music tangles itself up with memory in very direct ways. Favorite songs don’t end up favorite songs just because of supercool chord progressions. More often (at least for yours truly) it’s related to the fact that “Stuck Between Stations” was playing while I made out amongst my boxed up possessions at the end of my senior year of college, or “Stay Positive” helped keep me pumped and optimistic during a Brooklyn summer without employment, money, or air conditioning. The feelings involved are reconjured in a distilled musical form. All it takes is a few notes to instantly remember an unnameable mixture of nostalgia, affection, regret, and every other wonderful and terrible emotion our brain can tie to a single moment or a certain era. At a show, it’s really just a mass of people remembering their own moments at once. We get to be alone together. No talking, just rocking out and emoting like the herd of fucked up neurotic trainwrecks we are.

Sigh.

Bleh. Okay. Now that I’ve revealed myself for the sap I am, let me try to reclaim my masculinity with some gratuitous swearing. FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Yeah, I didn’t buy it either. Screw it. Anybody in the greater NYC area want to watch Love Actually, drink a couple cosmos, and just cuddle? I am so not kidding.

Rock and Roll Means Well dates via Front Gate Tickets:

11/9 – Boston, MA
11/11 – Toronto, ON – SOLD OUT
11/12 – Munhall, PA
11/13 – Bloomington, IN
11/14 – Chicago, IL
11/15 – Minneapolis, MN Night #1 – SOLD OUT
11/16 – Minneapolis, MN Night #2 – SOLD OUT
11/21 – Seattle, WA Night #2 (ed. note: I have no idea when Night #1 is… if you are in Seattle, investigate and get back to me)
11/23 – San Francisco, CA Night #1
11/24 – San Francisco, CA Night #2
11/25 – Los Angeles, CA

The self-descriptively named Matt and Kim have been around since, what, 2005? No, Wikipedia says 2004 so I’ll trust them. But by no one’s fault but my own, I’ve only gotten into them recently. They’re a part of the IHEARTCOMIX brigade that I’m always so damn effusive about. This duo is more Hearts Revolution than Team Robespierre, and are likely the most accessible act of the COMIX lot. And holy hell are they catchy.

Exhibit A: “Daylight”

Listen to it now. Have it stuck in your head for a week. In a good way. And luckily for humanity, Matt and Kim are on tour! The dates are below (thnx Myspace!!!). If you like smart pop music, then, well, see them. I’ll be at the Crooklyn show. WE CAN HANG!!!

Hello my friends–

This weekend I was reminded of why I bother to pay to $18,000,000 a month for a rat-infested turd’s nest in Brooklyn while my friends in Atlanta and Milwaukee live in 9 bedroom megaplexes overflowing with waterbeds and champagne for mere pennies a day.

IT’S BECAUSE I CAN SEE BANKSY’S KILLER PET SHOP INSTALLATION AND THE CMJ SHOWCASE IN A SINGLE WEEKEND WHILE YOU PLAY HALO AND TELL YOUR FRIENDS HOW MUCH YOU LIKE THAT NEW BAND CALLED THE ARCADE FIRE! THAT IS WHY.

Okay, I’m done. I promise.

But seriously. I am not the first to say that there is something happening in Brooklyn. If I were, this would be roughly 1996, we’d all be wondering if the GOPs last favorite septugenarian Bob Dole had the chops to take the White House, and I would be 11 years old. But as I first noticed in August, there is something NEW happening in Brooklyn and a lot of it is happening in a strange dance punk universe haunted by the folks at IHEARTCOMIX! , Team Robespierre (OMG I AM ONCE WAS THE KID IN THE RED COAT ON THEIR MYSPACE PIC… YOU CAN SEE ME, RIGHT?? C’MON, LOOK DUDE!!!!!), Ninjasonik (their pants are tiiiiiiiiiiiighhttttttt), and Japanther.

All these bands combine a messy punk riffing with rough and exuberent rapping reminiscent of Bay Area hyphy. The lyrics are stagger between the witty and the moronic (take, for instance, Ninjasonik’s declaration of “I’m a tight pants wearing ass n***a!”). What all this adds up to is the future of party music. It manages to be danceable, raucous, untamed, and ridiculously fun at the same time.

So despite the gentrification of Billyburg, the future of music still resides in our humble little bourough. Srsly. Spazz rock is the next big thang.