#64: It's a corndog
#64: It's a corndog
Modern Mimes; Whatever the Weather; Cruel Diagonals; Kamikaze Palm Tree; Big Scary Indian
Modern Mimes
As we’ve discussed, it is the wont of lesser-known bands to make up genres to describe their music. Maybe they’re trying to stand out—understandably—amongst the overwhelming amount of music out there, but most of the time it sounds pretentious. Because it implies that words simply do not exist to describe their music. It is wholly original, despite hundreds of years of music history.
I mean, words fail when you see someone rocking this on stage:
The name Modern Mimes doesn’t strike me as pretentious; it sounds more like a dopey pop-punk band. Yet the trio from Fort Lauderdale describes its music as “future goth.” According to a press release, that is “a term they coined in order to explain the fusion of alternative heavy guitar riffs, powerfully haunting vocals, subconscious provoking lyrics, electronic drums, and catchy pop melodies.”
In other words, future goth is word salad. The biggest offender is “subconscious provoking lyrics,” a nonsensical phrase that tries to sound deep, but only achieves clunkiness. Judging by Modern Mimes’ recent song “Down and Dead,” what the band actually plays is pretty typical, gothy rock à la Evanescence.
Again, Modern Mimes are just trying to stand out, and I empathize. But “future goth” is a mere amuse-bouche for the highfalutin nonsense in the press release for “Seek & Hide.”
We aren’t saints. We aren’t prophets. We are simply emphatic people with an ear to the whispers of the future. When the waves of messages come, we put it into songs and let the spirits guide us. We stand for strength, grounding, magic, becoming, expansion; opening the doors to your own portals.
Why would a portal need a door? You know what, never mind.
Whatever the Weather
Whatever the Weather presumably takes its name from a famous tongue-twister:
Whether the weather be fine,
Or whether the weather be not,
Whether the weather be cold,
Or whether the weather be hot.
We’ll weather the weather,
Whatever the weather,
Whether we like it or not!
The group is the latest incarnation of Loraine James, a London artist and producer known for what The Fader calls “heavy-hitting club music.” As Whatever the Weather, James veers in a direction Pitchfork describes as “ambient, IDM, and skittering drill’n’bass.”
The title of each song on this year’s self-titled album is a temperature—25°C, 0°C, 17°C, etc.—and almost all of them are instrumental. The ones that do have vocals emulate James’ primary influences: Chino Moreno of Deftones and Mike Kinsella of American Football—two big ol’ curveballs if you write music described as “skittering.” Turns out James is a big fan of Midwestern emo!
As for the name, she tells Pitchfork:
The project’s open-ended moniker is meant in part to reflect the fact that it may change shape in the future. “I’ve always been into improv and math rock,” she says, thinking ahead. “I don’t want to limit what I make.”
“Improv Math Rock” sounds like a UCB show that closes after one week.
Cruel Diagonals
Keeping it ambient is LA’s Cruel Diagonals, a.k.a. multimedia artist Megan Mitchell. Using field recordings, her classically trained vocals, and swirling washes of ambient sounds, Cruel Diagonals crafts heady music for the very patient.
That’s not a dig, but a statement of fact. Over at Bandcamp, the track “Monolithic Nuance” clocks in at 18:58 and has an equally lengthy artist’s statement about “the more sociopolitical aspects of Deep Listening as an embodied practice.”
It’s actually interesting stuff, but if you’re looking for hooks, keep moving, pal. Unless you mean actual metal hooks, which Mitchell probably uses in her field recordings. Just check out this sledgehammer action.
Other music includes “Topography of Affliction” and an EP called Pulse of Indignation, two titles that sound like the sides of a hard-rock 7-inch when taken together. Don’t worry, though; there’s a sadly familiar story driving Pulse of Indignation, which is “about recognizing the exploitation, grooming, and pain that [Mitchell] was subjected to as a young woman under the watchful eye of men with power in the music industry.”
Because even in this super-niche enclave, dudes can still be creeps.
Kamikaze Palm Tree
Because we live an era of GODLESS WOKE TERRORISTS INTENT ON DESTROYING TRADITIONAL VALUES, my first thought seeing this name was, “Can we say ‘kamikaze’ anymore?” It seems like we shouldn’t, right? Or maybe that’s just my POV, because my dad would call Asian drivers “kamikazes” when I was a kid. He was a walking Truly Tasteless Jokes of a human.
The site Highway 81 Revisited raved Kamikaze Palm Tree “might be the perfect name for a band that blends disparate musical pieces and absurdist lyrics and somehow ends up with something that makes perfect sense in a nonsensical way.”
Add the fact that the L.A. duo is on iconoclastic Drag City Records, and it all makes sense. Therefore, you will expect a band photo like this…
…and an undeniably odd music video for “The Hit”:
In the few interviews I found with Kamikaze Palm Tree, the origin of their name is not discussed. But if you’re curious about their favorite lyrics, something called Kiyi has the answer:
If you had a chance to carve one of your lyrics to your memorial stone 100 years from now, what would you choose?
“It’s a corndog.”
Makes sense.
Big Scary Indian
What comes to mind when you think “Big Scary Indian”? For some reason I thought of actor Will Sampson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, though Chief Bromden wasn’t scary.
Chances are what didn’t come to your mind was a “half-Indian, part Native American” classical guitarist who plays music enthusiastically described as “masterfully psychotic” by a Bandcamp fan. Such is the story of Roshan, a.k.a. Big Scary Indian. He talked about the origin of the name in the Family Reviews:
Your name—when and how did you decide to land on Big Scary Indian? I feel like there is a good story behind it.
Big Scary Indian came about as an inside joke between me and an old friend. I’m half Indian & part Native American & I’m super into a certain lane of pre-Hispanic/conquest indigenous spirituality. This friend always found it intriguing or useful and he would tell his other friends that hadn’t met me yet that I was a “big scary indian man” as a kind of way to talk me up. It sounded so ridiculous & made me laugh so it stuck with me & never really left. There’s more to it, but that’s all I’ll say for now.
Mysterious! A small amount of digging reveals Big Scary Indian’s full name is Roshan Reddy, and he’s a music teacher in New York public schools. I know this because The New York Times did a long article this past June about how the pandemic affected the music program at his school. It includes an adorable video of fourth and fifth graders in band class and talking about their music, along with Reddy. It’s very sweet, and for some damn reason, you can’t share or embed the video.
Making a questionable decision to read the comments, I found this from a mom at this school:
I’m forever grateful to Principal Hope and Mr. Reddy for prioritizing the continuation of the music program, which gave my son purpose during the start of the pandemic (fortunately he brought his instrument home in March!) As Mr. Reddy brilliantly stated, he's not trying to create young Mozarts. What he’s done is provide our kids the space to explore instruments and learn/communicate with each other through music, bringing a special comradery [sic] after months of isolation and uncertainty.
And this one!
What [sic] beautiful surprise! My family and I know Roshan Reddy personally from his high school days in Delaware. He was, and still is, an energetic, talented musician. It’s such a pleasure to see what he’s doing today for the kids of PS 11 by passing on his love of music! The arts are so important to our kids and I love that he said, “We’re the ones who have to carry the music through this moment.” Right on, Roshan!
Right on, indeed.
POST-SCRIPTS
As I was writing, ClickHole published We’re Not Fucking Kidding You. There Are 6 Different Mimes In The Yard.
The annual BNB Christmas-music issue will drop soon, and that’ll be it for 2022. Thank you, as always, for indulging this nonsense. Here’s to more of it in 2023.