In addition to being an all-around awesome dude, Patrick “Duffy” De Armas is a Renaissance man. He does it all, and does it well. Currently he commits much of his time to his artistic endeavor, Electric Coffin. With a studio situated in the ultra-hip/sketchy Pioneer Square area of Seattle, Duffy’s work has already garnered much praise and attention from art connoisseurs, hipsters, Chileans, and wayfaring bums. His work, OMG pictures, musical selections, and peculiar videos can be found at his Purple Razors blog.

The anecdote that I will share takes place at one of his shows. Duffy, playing the cordial host, sidled up to a passerby taking in one of Duffy’s compositions. The stranger shook his head and said to Duffy, “I don’t know man. I am done with art.” Duffy inquired as to what the fellow meant.

“Well just between you and me, it seems like everyone calls themselves an ‘artist’ these days. I mean, no disrespect to Duffy, but this is dumb. Duffy is dumb. This isn’t art. A five-year-old could do this with some paint and a decent amount of boogers.” Duffy nodded his head, taking the offense calmly. He thanked the man for coming, and returned to the crowd with a grin. Why a grin? Because a five-year-old had made it with boogers. But the five-year-old was actually Duffy’s pet alien and had used the boogers of a brontosaurus. Duffy had accomplished what he wanted with the piece. By employing an extra-terrestrial and using prehistoric boogers, he had made his artistic statement: that the piece was both “Out of this world,” and “DINOmite.”

Duffy defies social classifications. He is an Arizonan that loves the snow. Hence, his selection of “Cell Mates” by The Bronx is true to his nature. Mariachi, punk, and sweet and clean enough to introduce to your grandmother. Just like Duffy. “Cell Mates” sounds a bit like Vampire Weekend when played on an old radio inside of a rusty pick-up truck rumbling down a Sonoran road. Except it would be Vampiro Fin De Semana, because when you listen to an old radio while in a pick-up truck in Mexico, everything will have a tint of mariachi.

“Cell Mates” by The Bronx

This is my friend Robby Ritter. He lives in Kentucky, but plays across the river in Cincinnati with Lujo Records band Enlou. Robby and I met many music projects ago though. I think it must have been close to five years ago, I stumbled across a crazy music scene in St. Louis. One that felt like home as I would listen to the three or four songs each band had on their myspace page. Among the bands were So Many Dynamos, Say Panther, Berlin Whale, the Marching Ohs (Robby’s brother Luke), and the Ghost of the Forest. Robby was in the Ghost of the Forest. Ghost of the Forest became one of my favorites, and we began to meet up in each other’s areas while our bands were on tour. Robby moved to Cincinnati a couple years back to join Enlou. They are really really great! Last time we were through, we kept Kurt (Enlou) up until a few hours before he had work, and we all (9 of us) camped in Robby’s room and watched mid-90s comedy until we laughed ourselves to sleep. Robby will be hitting the road with Bear (the Ghost) and Enlou in July.

Robby has been sending me music of his own and friends, just sharing what he loves to be around. Also, he started showing me his solo project Bear (the Ghost). It is terrific, and I’m excited to hear more of the new material.

One of the bands from Cincinnati that Robby showed to me was Pomegranates. Their quick-moving, sunshiny pop rock took my listening ear to the next level.

Pomegranates is a four-piece band with the ambition to write music that takes the listener (and I imagine the band) to many different places. High and low. The band has two put out two records in the last two years, through Lujo Records, found a niche in the midwest, touring with French Kicks, Aloha, and Islands, and played Daytrotter once in 2008 and then again in 2009. The band have two sets of tours coming up posted to their myspace page; the first one playing shows with Cloud Cult, We All Have Hooks For Hands, and Blitzen Trapper, the second with Colour Revolt.

Pomegranates’ two releases, Everything is Alright and Everybody, Come Outside are available in the Lujo store. The band’s upcoming One Of Us is due out in October through their new label Afternoon Records. From what I heard, they may be stopping in Seattle and Spokane this November, right after the record comes out. If their archive of previous work and performances is any indicator of the forthcoming release, I wouldn’t miss those shows.

Pomegranates~Corriander from LaundroMatinee on Vimeo.

“Everybody, Come Outside” from Everybody, Come Outside

“Corriander” from Everybody, Come Outside

As brothers, Ian and I have many ways in which we relate concerning music. We both have a remarkably high tolerance for Irish folk music and The Three Tenors. We know far too many “Oldies” songs, and we both have reoccurring nightmares in which we and our friends are forced to listen to “A Prarie Home Companion” while being shuttled to soccer practice. We also know of those albums that the other bought during those confusing pre-teen years, and will carry these secrets to the grave.

But Ian and my musical inclinations are different as well. Despite Ian’s promotion, I could never get down with Andre Nickatina. All the cocaine, guns, and loose women were a bit too much for me.

But Ian and I reconnected recently on hip hop. He invited me to check out Mash Hall, the product of Seattle based cousins djblesOne and Ronnie Voice along with slew of other musicians and dancers. They have a sampling technique that is unique and innovative, but also has that west coast crispiness that is so easy to get pulled in by. Mash Hall gets bonus points for slick titles such as The Greatest Fuckin Adventures Of Bruce Illest – Streaks & Blurs & Shit.

Here’s the track that Ian is digging, from Mash Hall’s “They La Soul” album.

Visit Mash Hall’s bandcamp page for all kinds of goodies.

Ben and I met in the Fall of 2009. Ben is one of the few people I know that is more proactive about creating and consuming music than I am. One of my first lasting memories of Ben was the first time he invited me over to his house to “jam”. Having a poor history of “jam sessions”, I really did not know what to expect, but agreed despite my apprehension. Upon arrival at Ben’s place we immediately got to “jamming”. What I didn’t realize prior to the “jam session” is that the goal of “jamming” for Ben was to evoke as many weird noises and sounds from his keyboard as he could, while I pretended to be a drummer; this process went on for over two hours. Ben created sounds that human ears had never heard before that evening. Needless to say Ben has been a steady “jam” partner since that night.

Given Ben’s appreciation for noise and unique sound, it was no surprise that he was the one to turn me onto Dubstep music. Dubstep is an overwhelming mix of sound that is heavily driven by a thick, slow beat. The first artist that Ben played for me is one of the originators of Dubstep, Skream.

Skream is a Dubstep producer from South London and has been progressing this genre since 2003. Below I chose one of my favorite tracks from the artist, that I feel is a great introduction to Dubstep. It’s simple, effective and addictive.

‘What Did He Say?’

This is Matt. He and I played in the band Castles in high school. It faded into many other projects over the years, but he is now creating music under the moniker M. Pyres, as well as running his own cassette label, Patient Sounds. Patient Sounds is home to M. Pyres, Cochise, Lush Cola (Tim Perry of Weed Diamond), as well as Seattle’s own Cradling and Martha! Mother. Matt has played a large role in guiding my eager listening ears. Making mixes of his music and friends’ music, as well as many other bands from which I still draw influence.

About a year or so ago, he started telling me about this great scene on the east coast: Underwater Peoples, Kurt Vile, Woodsist, Mexican Summer, Real Estate, Julian Lynch. Starting to dive in further now, Lynch’s tunes are making my days brighter than a Gaga stage setup.

Julian’s music has a nice stripped-down quality to his music at most times. When there is any sort of build it really isn’t one instrument standing alone as a lead. The songs will move as if they are but one machine with synchronized limbs. His recordings remind me of some of the things Matt and I have recorded together and separately: definitely tape and definitely cared for, but not overanalyzed. As well as touring most of the summer, Julian Lynch has two upcoming releases: Droplet on a Hot Stone 7″ out through Underwater Peoples and Mare LP out through Olde English Spelling Bee.

You can order his releases here
and look at his tour poster here.

‘Droplet on a Hot Stone’

‘Just Enough’

Danny and I used to work together. I really enjoyed working with Danny because we shared an appreciation for cursing and granola bars.

Then Danny quit.

I know Danny is off doing better things which is well and good, but what an asshole. Now, I feel much more awkward about cursing in front of day care groups and talking to customers with my mouth full of some organic snack. Danny, come back. You know how much I hate being productive and professional.

Danny recommended I listen to The Hoots Hoots

and I had planned on featuring them quite some time ago. But because Danny is a co-founder of Hoot House Productions who produce The Hoots Hoots, I decided to wait on it a bit. Danny is co-founder of Hoot Hoot Productions, so I was concerned it might appear as if we at Camp Revival only promote our friends. But Danny isn’t my friend. He betrayed me, so there is no conflict of interest in my sharing The Hoots Hoots.

Hoot Hooters Adam Prairie, Chris Prairie, Leah Julius, Geoff Brown, and Christina Ellis know how to make a good song. A hearty foundation, splashy percussion to get you out of your seat, a smattering of funky guitar and synthesizer riffs, topped off with some smooth and sweet vocals. Plus, any reference to Calvin and Hobbes is as good as gold to me. Take The Hoots Hoots for a spin. And then go see them Monday June 7th at New Crompton in Seattle.

And if you see Danny there, tell him I am hurt.

‘Transmogrified’

My friend Meghan and I shared one of the most traumatic (wedding) experiences, ever. As string players, wedding season does not always translate into receptions, friends and cake. For us it can mean hours of practicing, preparation and nerves that rival the bride’s, or groom’s, cold-feet jitters. The experience that I am referencing above took place in Chicago in the summer of 2005. Meghan and I were hired to perform the music for a wedding. Nearly every cue that we entered in on was wrong, every solo started off flat, and when we weren’t playing the silence was filled by the sound of the groom’s father wrapping his knuckles and staring at us with the intent to kill. To top all of this off, on the way out of the wedding Meghan ended up stepping on a sharp metal object that had her bleeding during the entirety of her long train ride home. This was truly one of those experiences that warranted drinking to the point of forgetting a day ever happened.

To celebrate the upcoming five year anniversary of our worst day ever, and the entry into the 2010 wedding season, Meghan and I met for PHO in Ballard to stuff our faces and talk over the music that she is listening to. In an apologetic tone Meghan informed me that she was not really listening to anything ‘new’ or ‘fresh’. Instead she is listening to a lot of Tim Eriksen, the celtic/folk virtuoso, ethnomusicologist professor and leader of the band Cordelia’s Dad. I assured Meghan that ‘new’ and ‘fresh’ are not necessarily the aim of this blog. We also appreciate ‘beautiful’ and ‘listenable’, which is exactly what she brought to me. Enjoy some of Meghan’s choice selections from Tim Eriksen on this Mother’s Day.

Vernon / Wrestling Jacob, 95

Idumea Sacred Harp Singers at Liberty Church

Am I born to Die?

Bassett Creek

My best friend Barry and I have gotten into some sticky situations. Real sticky. And no matter how sticky things get, Barry somehow keeps his cool while I go bonkers.

The stint that Barry and I spent working in a coal mine was a very dark time for me. The working conditions of the colliery destroyed me. Hours in complete darkness breathing toxic materials pushed me to depression and insomnia. I lost track of what day and time it was. I started collecting random pieces of garbage and storing them beneath my bed. My fish died because I didn’t clean his bowl.

Meanwhile, Barry flourished in the mines. He won a lobster dinner for producing so much coal and his chipper “go get ‘em” attitude. He also volunteered at the local rec center teaching senior citizens how to play basketball. He won the lottery, and donated the winnings to some animal-helping organization. In efforts to cheer me up, he would bring an extra pack of fruit snacks to share with me. It only made my demeanor the worse. I couldn’t fathom how he could tolerate the hours we spent in what to me was a tomb.

It wasn’t until just recently that I discovered that the entire time we were in the mine, Barry had been listnening to the song “The Walls Are Coming Down” by Fanfarlo on his headphones. Bright, rich, and ornate. Uplifting choruses crescendo over swooping strings and horns. Maybe what it would be like if you could eat a whole apple pie without any guilt. Sweet.

‘The Walls Are Coming Down’

That Barry, he knows what he is doing.

A definition from the Miriam-Webster Dictionary tells us that potluck is a communal meal to which people bring food to share.  Where I brought delicious Olympia Beer and hoped for some food for thought in return.  I realized it was my lucky night when I sat down to eat with my buddy Christian.  Christian runs Propensity Design Lab and his work is seen in most neighborhoods around the Seattle area.  Above and beyond his work in design, he is an exemplary musician and I thought this would be the perfect time for a Mouth Breathers post. We talked about what was going on with the Seattle hip hop scene and the future of his mysterious band Dead Witch. He then told me about The War on Drugs. When I went home to listen, body and mind were finally full.

The War on Drugs bring all and more to the table. Their music is lush sonic waves and energetic emotion spilling over onto the kids table. They are the bread basket that is always full and the wine that sticks to the edge of the glass, making imprints on the mind. They are the record spinning during the after meal coffee that sticks on your breath. They are the reason we hate and love mouth breathers.

The War on Drugs – Taking the Farm

Dave is a friend that I spend more time with than anyone else in my life. We are co-workers at a social marketing firm downtown and sit directly across from each other in an office of two. Awkward right? On the contrary, as Dave has taken it upon himself to soothe the awkward silence with the smooth sounds of Steely Dan,The Doobie Brothers, and sometimes when we are feeling crazy, a little Peter Cetera. Based off of this pacified playlist you may be shocked to learn that Dave used to be a fairly large player in the Northwest music scene. Dave founded the indie promotions company Nice Promo. If you worked in college music between 2003-2006 you may remember being called by Dave. He was the college promoter–with the great library of musicians– who wasn’t an asshole. One artist in particular that Dave worked and turned me onto is Luke Temple.

Luke Temple is now in the band Here We Go Magic (Secretly Canadian / Western Vinyl), but got his start in 2005 when he submitted a four song self-titled EP as a demo to Seattle’s Mill Pond Records. As Dave worked Luke’s first record he was able to share a couple tracks from the original demo EP with me to post to the blog. The last song is not one of the demo tracks. It is one of my favorite songs from Luke’s current band Here We Go Magic.

Bird

In The End

Radiation Blues

Tunnel Vision