Woo-hoo! Korindie has gone international! International like small local airport that has one charter flight a year to Havana sort of international, but two countries is indeed greater than one, and here we are, sweet internationality.
DISCLOSURE: We thought about Japindie for a while…but we decided to go with Korindie Japan. I know, it’s confusing. Just work with me on this one okay? We can’t be like ‘ndie-ing every country we visit. (Yes, there will be more countries!)
Right, so Korindie went to Japan last weekend, and we caught up with the wonderful Qu, who were playing along with Nice Legs in Kyoto.
Okay, so first impressions. The lead vocalist/beatboxer, dresses like a fucking Japanese rock god. Dude is on point with the style. I don’t got a shot of his footwear, but he was rocking those Japanese toed socks that matched his yukata/pantsuit awesomeness.
The second thing about Qu is hair. They got the hair game down. You got long straight hair, long curly hair, and short hair. The band is perfectly hair-balanced. It’s like when you’re playing Ice Hockey (not to be confused with ice hockey), and you pick two normal dudes, the big slow dude, and the small fast dude, for perfect team balance. They’re Japanese. They’ve thought this thing through.
And of course there’s music. But we don’t talk about music at Korindie. If we were to talk about music, we’d say it was refreshing to hear beatboxing instead of straight vocals all the time. But we’re not going to say that, because we don’t talk about music. We’d also say some other things with actual music terms. That is also not happening.
Also, the drummer is on point, with or without the beatboxing, on point. He drummed with Nice Legs a bit after his set. Looked like he was going to collapse, but did it up proper for like two whole sets. And then we got drunk. It was great.
Aight, so basically, we need to find a way to get these guys to come to Korea. They need to come to Korea. Dudes, 是非、韓国に来てください。ベール買ってあげる。
Les Sales says “we hate capitalism. We love shopping.” So true dudes. So true. I’d be all for getting rid of capitalism completely if 80s American-throw-back school PSA-type videos hadn’t convinced me I’d end up being dressed in corduroy overalls living in the back of a Karakalpakstani rubber boot factory for the rest of my rapidly decreasing years.
So compared to that, or at least compared to the fear of that, I’ll be okay with watching other people buy 7,000 won lattes after spending 6,000 won on a plate of 제육 for now. Or maybe going to a Les Sales show. Dudes, when are you playing again? It’s been forever and shit. Like, seriously, 6 months or so. Reach out.
I don’t know that Les Sales actually sings about capitalism. I mean there are really only two songs I know the name of, one is called “I’m telling you I love everyone” or “I mean I love everyone” or something like that, and the other is called Star Wars. I guess Star Wars does have some sort of economic themes. I mean the Empire was all about gathering resources and building these floating increasingly-gigantic-yet-increasingly-easy-to-destoy orbs of metal and crap.
Like three times is enough dude. You done got blowed up three times. Let it go. Let it go. I’m a horrible role female role model. Let it go~~~
Come to think of it, I really don’t think anyone got paid for their work. I mean the Viceroy got paid with a beating, but maybe that’s not a good representation the true spirit of capitalism? Maybe I should ask my nearest libertarian. They totally seem to have a completely solid grasp of human nature and the societal actions on a global scale while also having an excellent chance of winning the sweepstakes in November.
Maybe they were talking about the other Star Wars. Hmm.
But yeah, Star Wars. That song really gets a crowd moving. Not as much as the time that frat house next to my old apartment played Jump Around by House of Pain and cracked their foundations, but close. Here’s a video of a different song though. I’m always too busy shakin’ it to film.
So, that’s Les Sales. I hope you learned something. I sure did. Here’s a dude who was playing in the show that night, but I don’t remember his name because he’s not in the band anymore and all I can remember is the fact that he said he would hit me for some reason but he might have been joking. I think he was joking.
Oh, here’s an actual video of Star Wars, from back in the day when they had a different singer. Just dance.
Here at Korindie, we’re nothing if we aren’t honest. And here’s the honest truth. I thought that Grey was touring with a revamped version of Henry Demos‘ old band Watersports at first. So, here I am, in the front row in nothing but a funnel gag and a leather harness… and all of a sudden I’M the weird one. The front rows DID NOT get wet. Zero out of five golden whips of shame.
The club floor is supposed to be a judgment-free zone.
Without the waterworks, they still put on a pretty good (yet vanilla ㅠㅠ) show, as I’m sure you can tell from the above recording for which I expertly pressed record and then stop. Grey, formerly (and kinda currently?) of the Killer Drones, played from his new album, and all were enthralled. Except the person who stood directly under the fucking microphone and talked about tequila all night. I think I was able to cut most of it out, but seriously dude, whoever the fuck you are, it’s fucking tequila, stick a fucking worm in some vodka and you’re done.
So Grey has like this new album, but he needs people to play it. For some reason, he decided to get a bunch of nice, decent people, and then name them the Warm Jets. The Warm Jets. How else could anyone interpret that? I mean, aside from above. Like, you had a Dyson dryer on bass? I don’t get it. Did these people owe you money? Actually, don’t tell me. Some dark secrets never need to see the light of day. Grey’s a pretty smooth dude though, so it’s probably spy code for something. Or he’s a cult leader?
Oh, grow back that mustache. It was awesome. And spy-like. Hmm. Maybe cult leaderish?
Right. The band. John Wade, Grey’s old band mate, also of the Killer Drones, is the guy you call when you want an awesome bassist, but you can’t be outclassed/upstaged by Mike McGrath’s freaking sweet moves. He stands there, plays the licks, and has a good time without bumping into your shit. He always strikes me as the guy who will help you out in a jam, and put up with your choice in recent band names. Also, I think his dog might eat me. Will your dog eat me dude? Like. Don’t let your dog eat me.
I’m fully convinced that Ethan Waddell doesn’t have a job. He’s been in like 74 different bands, and subbed for everyone during their allotted hagwon vacation period*. Ethan, how are you supporting yourself? Do these people pay you? Wait… are you in Grey’s mustache cult? Do you have Stockholm syndrome? Blink twice for yes, and once for very yes. We can get you home, Ethan. We can get you home. Mama and Papa Waddell miss you (I guess?), and all your pedals.
BA, or Brad is another one of those people that’s like in every band that needs a drummer anywhere in the city. And he operates a recording studio. And he manages the Barberettes. Brad, I want to know your secrets. All your secrets. It takes me 2 hours to open a web browser and write a shitty article. GIVE ME YOUR SECRETS OF SPACE AND TIME.
Whatever. It’s cool. I can just live with a 16 hour day like the rest of us. Sniff.
Okay, enough shit. Grey, right now is in France, pretending to be bourgeoisie, or Spain, pretending to be..umm… some Spanish word I don’t fully understand. I’m not jealous. He’s touring for his new album. Sigh. I wish I was in their cult. I’d have something to do for 16 hours a day. And maybe I could get me some paella.
Grey, bring me back some paella. I’ll pay you back in cult dues.
*For those of you not in the know, it’s two days in December, and 8 days at the end of your contract.
Tierpark widely known by Germans for being the German word for zoo. No one can dispute that. Tierparks are places where visitors can witness the heavily ordered stratification of German society, in which humans and even animals, must adhere to the strict boundaries of their placement in life. While to an outsider like yourself, this may seem to be a bit harsh or completely made up, I assure you that this is not the case. In fact, the nature of German zoos can be derived directly from the etymology of the word Tierpark, where tier means tier, or some sort of stratification, and park roughly translates to “place for the storage of accoutrements used in the containing and torturing of innocents for putting them in their rightful place.” My German is a little rusty, but I’m sure you’ve believed every word I’ve said so far.
After reading the above paragraph, you could say that the above is complete bullhornky which has nothing to do with the actual band Tierpark. Mayhaps they’re not some sort of musical sadomasochistic animalistic cult, where Sehee Kim forces everyone to live like zoo animals off stage in some sort of weird bedroom-cum-sty. Look, no one here at Korindie is saying that. That would indeed be ridiculous, and libelous. I’m just saying it’s more of a part-time hobby of theirs, and quite frankly, I’m really upset that no one gives Sehee Kim credit for her ability to be a new mother and lead a band while simultaneously continuing to maintain the world’s first and only prog rock BDSM dungeon.
#femininity #strongwomen #cycleoflife #chokechain
So have you now learned the true meaning of Tierpark? Well, you’re wrong. It’s Christmas. The meaning of Tierpark is Christmas. You’ve all failed. You all get coal in your stockings this year. Like, your regular socks. Your feet will get all dirty. That is the punishment.
Whatever, look, I’ll give you a pass this time, just because you’ve somehow decided that reading this far was going to be beneficial to you for some reason? Right, back on topic. Tierpark.
They’re a band. They’re a band that I like, although I really only know two of the members well, namely Sehee, mentioned above, and Jon, who you may recognize from Visuals, and older Nice Legs joints. With other two, Nathan and Laurent, we do this awkward acknowledgement nod whenever I see them, which I’m not sure if awkward because one of them is vaguely European, or because I always get terrible photos of the other one because he’s always hiding in the shadows on the stage, or because I always flee back to my cave after every show. It’s a tough nut to crack.
They play music. On Korindie, it has been established that we don’t talk about music. I don’t want to label anything, or be forced to describe anything in weird laboured terms like every other music blog. But, despite this, but I can tell you that their music is what I would refer to as “good.” I hope this label hasn’t ruined your listening experience. Go get the album you whingy bastards.
Whatever. Like, listen to the bootleg, then listen to their new album here. It’s excellent. Have you seen it? It’s like a triangle. It unfolds out into an eagle. Well, I mean you have to unfold it, and then do some origami shit to make it into an eagle, but I’m technically correct or something.
Pushing forward through the double digits, Korindie returns this week with Visuals, a new collaborative exploration amongst Ali Safavi (Mountains, Colours, Classy Wallet, Yuppie Killer), Ethan Waddell (Table People, New Blue Death), and Jonathan Jacobson (Tierpark, Nice Legs) into complicated time signatures and advanced pedalry.
I’m going to be honest. I don’t know what makes them “math,” and I don’t really care. All I know is that Ali has the most angular moves out of anyone in Seoul. I mean look at this.
Dude is mad nuts all over the place. That’s math right? Angles? Random distributions? Least common denominators? Yeah, it’s all of that mathimess.
I’m glad I’ve finally found a way to put my undergrad degree to use. Mom, I hope your son has done you proud.
By post number 11, you’ve learned not to come here for a music review.* That’s what the rest of the internet is for. No, today I’d like to talk about the band themselves. No, I’m not going to make fun of all the bands that Ali is in again (107 this week and counting!)… aside from this statement. Look, it’s low hanging fruit, Ali. The lowest of hanging fruit.
I’ve seen Visuals three times now. Photos here are from all three shows. The best thing about them is that the band really feels like a collaboration where all three members are well in their element. Ali basswalks all over the stage, Ethan has a million pedals to loop through, and Jon can rip through the fanciest of beats. Don’t get me wrong, this is not to box each member into a specific role (although Ali could use some of that at times…okay, last one) but for a band with only 4-5 shows under their belt, they got their own shit and each other’s shit handled.
Oh yeah, and Ali screams a lot. That’s my favourite part actually. It kinda goes like “AAAAAAAAAAAAAH,” but more gutteral?
The worst thing, for balance, would be that they don’t have enough material yet. Come on boys, write some more shit. You’ve done like 5 shows, you should have an LP or two by now. Get on it.
Seriously dudes. Don’t give me that look.
Whatever. Look, to tide us all over, here’s a new video from their latest show.
Visuals doesn’t have a Facebook page (yet), but they do 1-2 shows a month around Seoul. Get a hold of me or keep your ear to the Facebook-stone for more info. I’ll update this section if something comes up.
*Unless this is your first time here, in which case, I am very very sorry. So, so very sorry. My condolences.
Faithful Korindie readers may have noticed that Maggie Devlin, previously of Baekma and New Blue Death fame, is all up in Korindie’s mix, with her face now on three out of 10 bootleggins’. I know I’ve been accused of needless bias towards her, and so to settle the matter once and for all, here’s the reason why she’s so prevalent on the site.
I love Maggie and I want to have her children.
Okay, okay. This is not true. I hate kids. Like, really hate kids. But, I love her musically, and I would love to have her musical children. They’d all be half Firebird and half Korg with a hint of cowbell, and I’d sell them on craigslist.com (LIKE YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL FIREBIRD MAGGIE) and we’d split the profits over a feed of Mom’s Touch.
I guess the real reason for Maggie’s prevalence would be that she has almost as many bands as Ali*, and they’re all good. Her current work, Party Fears, is a solo project that somehow involves every wayguk musician/singer in Seoul. Seriously, there’s like a million people on stage at any moment. Look at this, they barely all fit. I had to unsexily hug the pole to get this shot.**
Even though Maggie alone is the driving force behind everything, watching Party Fears is like watching a familiar TV show that got retooled. Not in that desperate 6th season of Archer way, but more like a [INSERT SUCCESSFULLY RETOOLED SHOW TITLE HERE] way, where you know most the characters involved, but they’re being directed by someone else and they’re ready for more diverse hijinks. Well, okay, that’s a bad example, because everyone is playing all the same instruments they always played, but next to different people. Okay, it’s next to the same people for the next part.
Goddammit, this why I can’t have nice things. Look, Maggie brings a new sound to the table. Okay?
I’ve not done enough digression in this post, but it’s 1:38AM and my mind currently has the same texture as the ramyeon that is not sitting well in my stomach, so I’ll just end by letting you, my fellow Korindie lookilistener, should know that you can still have nice things, or at least see a good show at Boogie Woogie (formerly Kimchi Sounds) in Kyungidan, Seoul on March 26th. It’s Party Fears’ last show before Maggie ups and offs out of self-induced purgatory.
Don’t worry though, Maggie will pop up again this summer when secret things happen in secret places. Did I mention that it was secret? Look, it’s secret, okay?
Here’s a distraction. Purty lights. The editing is frantic as fuck, cause I was a little drunk while doing it, and I thought everything was AMAZING. Still like it though. DOEI from CCTB is amazing for getting all the best shots on this vid.
You’ll also be pleased to know that in this video (and on bandcamp) you can actually hear a female vocalist in Seoul for once. (Shut up, Tony. You’re the only one who claims to be able to hear them.)
*Yes, Ali, this is your new normal.
**That will NOT be in the bandfic.
***Holy crap, there’s 10 of these. I’ve never done 10 of anything in my life. I wonder if I could put this on my resume? “Successfully Made 10 Blog Posts” would be an awesome award title.
Henry (of Demos fame) was rushing me through the door. I don’t remember which door, but that’s not the point. The point is that Henry doesn’t rush unless it’s for chicken wings or there’s super cool tricked out van sliding down the road.
I don’t think he ever got the strangers-with-candy talk.
“Look, we can’t be late. They don’t play that often, and I need to see them,” he said pushing me through the door, my laces still in the process of being fumbled with.
We were heading to Club Bbang, you know, that place with the spray painted white heart on the wall. We hung out a bit with the usual outside musicians and randoms hangers-by for which we somehow miraculously had time for before heading down and grabbing a seat.
Bbang is a sit down joint. It’s a little weird. It works though. It’s cozy.
I guess if you haven’t seen Vidulgi live, the best way to describe their presence is something along the lines of being an absolute wall of sound. Like, you’re sitting in the crowd, and you’ve been forced to belly flop onto the hardest lake water in existence, while trying to keep yourself from falling down a flight of stairs, while celebrating your 18th (21st if you’re American) birthday with actual friends.
Actually, Sanghoon and Jongseok once stopped me from falling down a flight of stairs. I was busy emphatically describing how they were like a wall of sound, when I almost fell back down the stairs to some basement club I can never remember the name of, but I want to say Smokies? Or maybe something with a Q? I think it had a yellow sign with black text, that made me feel like New York in the 70s. (Yes, the whole city.)
(Baekmaites, it was the place where you partied after the album release that time, remember? Little help?)
Dudes didn’t hesitate and caught me on the precipice of camerical destruction, pulled me up and brushed me off. Solid dudes. So solid. I appreciate still having my kidneys (and my lens) every day.
Right, carrying on. The show. My mind was blown in an entirely non-Upworthy way. I’d never really heard anything shoegazey or proggy live before. Eye-opening. So much sound from so little. Every note is perfect. The only way to experience it though is to get right up to the front and attack the beast head on. It takes a lot of intricate timing and pedicular madness that’s really interesting to see.
So good. Give this a lookilisten when you done with the tracks above.
Oh, and the wall of sound thing is real. I could actually feel the inner pieces of my ear moving during one set. I had severe tinnitus for three days. Ear plugs at Daiso, 1000 won for six are a life saver.
I first met Say Sue Me by the pool table in the Basement Pub. The roof was really low, and it was filled with a mix Busan’s seemingly taller than average foreign community, and, well, an unusable pool table. Say Sue Me were chilling on top/to the side of it, having a few too many drinks for having released an album last year called “We’ve Sobered Up”. I pushed through the lanks of b-ballian proportions to slap hands. Jelly from Angle administered the proceedings, and I became cool to to get up in their honest-to-godly* untoxicated faces.
Jelly’s a lot like me. He tells me he always tells people how they can expand. Sometimes, I suspect he’s even relevant (jk). Not so much that night (nk).**
Sumi told me to make her look pretty, looked at my camera, took a sip, and laughed. It was one of those well played lines that was a joke and a jab to everyone in the conversation at the same time.
They went on first. I lodged the audio recorder in the ceiling and got ready.
They sounded good. I don’t write about music, so just listen to it yourself and then apply some words what with you were thinking and then put it in the comments for all to see. I can tell you this though, the crowd was way into them, and I felt like I wanted to go surfing afterwards.
I think I gotta spend more time at the beach. Anyone down for Gwangalli this summer?
*I don’t believe in that dude. Come now.
**You were off point, but you’re still awesome. Get at me if you read this. Nothing but respect (and gentle ribbing). Let’s talk about the future.
I have no idea what that means, but it sounded cool enough to write so I wrote it. Or rather, I typed it. Does that appease the semant prone among you? It better. Maybe I heard it while I was ambushed down-under. Maybe I made it up like a plate of creamy trollops and onions. (An east coast favourite!) While I will refrain(?) from comparing Nice Legs to a disgusting septic treatise on diabetes, I will place them within a hierarchy where they are in a position superior to our aforementioned arielistine baathren. Just baarely. Sheep go baa.
To say the trio-recently-cum-duo of Henry, Lew, and John has been a driving force in my photography, videography and audio… phony, would be a slight understatement. They’ve put up with me shooting off right in their fucking leg-faces for the last year, for one, and they’ve also been cool with my guinea-pigging of their likenesses in my somewhat-self-driven DSLR usage, Lightroom and Photoshop lessons as well.
Just pretend I’m holding a degree that says “19 6 A obe M st r” that I printed myself on an OS/2 only dot matrix printer that only has cyan and magenta cartridges. The metaphor still stands.
Anyway, that allowance of personal space dismissal (Form 7-17B Section 6) goes a long way with me. As does Jon. Now, he’s not around as much because he’s all about hanging out in some European zoo with broodier peeps. (I’ll be bootlegging them too soon enough. Jon, I’ll be bootlegging you soon enough.) Here, in the bootlegs presented above, he’s bringing some of that energy to play in one of the ‘Legs”s darker shows. Everything is set in that rhythm and/or key where you feel really uncomfortable or sad, but you don’t know why. Or rather, I don’t know why.
This is probably why I don’t write about music.
Henry and I go back. Not back to the new-old country back, but back enough to matter back. Straight out, we met each other when we were both in a fully realized and understood broken-ish state, and we didn’t really know where we were going. This made me want to hang out with him a lot more with him, and not other people that had their shit together.
Because that is still kinda painful.
H was way skilled at the musics, but he didn’t have anyone to really music with a lot to the extent that he would have liked to have musicked. He was experimenting with some kinky scenes rather deliberately implied… yet those that his contemporaries didn’t seem to realize existed. I don’t think this really clicked with him though. Now, he’s doing like full-on good, although I’m not going to take any more credit for that transition than I will with the next sentence for it.
I’m a therapeutic god and it’s not because he found someone who understands him nearly completely musically at all.
I first met Lew at a table when she tried to ply me with a handmade sticker that said something in fancy handwriting or typewriting that probably meant something. I refused it, due to my secret loathing for stickers, (they make me gag for some reason, but that’s a secret, so if you act on it, I’ll have to act on you), but she seemed cool with it. She had short hair with a long rattail, a memory from a time when she cared about things that didn’t matter so much right then as they did to her a short while before right then, and a cape that represented a new celerity in her choice of wardrobe that was preparing her for the next phase in her musical existence.
I told her she was awesome within the first 5 minutes, as she was running up the stairs at Yogiga to see someone about a white horse.
They’re responsible for why I annoy the crap out of any band I can find on a weekly basis, and as such you can send all hate mail to email@example.com from now until the eventual self-destruction of Google’s servers when they achieve sentience.
About them all together, in a summary type paragraph, that would normally come at the end of a post, I would have to say that they make some music, and I happen to enjoy said music. I think the time they sang Happy Birthday to me on or near my birthday would happen to be the favourite song of theirs, but it was a limited time offer and I didn’t record it.
I got all up in their faces. I took some moderately good photos.
Let’s cut to the chase. They’re a feminist band, but their bassist is a dude. You’d think that joke would have run dry by now, but it hasn’t, much to Mike’s potential chagrin. Although he’s too English and/or male to call me on my sexism, but you still can. (Full discretion, remember? Read adjacent.) The fourth woman in Baekma (FWB) is a title that will follow him for a while, even though they’re gone now.
Which is sad. The audio below is from their final show last week. I mean their final show period, which happened to happen last week. Happy? No. No I’m not.
Steph and Eilis have both decided that it’s time to move on from Korindie’s reach, and they are being/will be missed. I imagine both of them getting really old (like AT LEAST 50) and sitting out on the porch with lemonade or whatever Ozzies drink, like dingo blood (lite) or some Vegemite smoothie shit, talking to their grand kids about all the crazy shit they did on stage in Asia (vRKT-MHOMPo) and how awesome it was, but thank fuck they left when they did, because otherwise they wouldn’t have done something awesome, like destroy the Republican party or prevent the next solar flare.
I think I’m going to write a comic. The strong woman is a cliché, but I’d like to reimagine that stereotype, but add depth and personality to the characters. You know, to make them like people. It’ll sell a nillion* copies.
Maggie will continue with a solo project. I bonded with her over our mutual love of pie and Taito Cheese and Onion crisps. (BTW, those are the only potato chips I will call crisps. Respect where respect is due.) Korindie will hound her until we hear something. (I’m serious, Maggie.)
Over the year I knew them, I think what impressed me most from my experience with them is the capacity to have meaning and yet have fun at the same time. This threw me at first, I saw it as an inconsistency. But then I realized it’s to keep you from going crazy.