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Last night I saw a ghost.

His name was Casper and he had six friends with him. Gaunt, pale, wide eyed and otherworldly, Casper sang to me. He sang to all of us. Last night.

I’m talking, of course, about Casper Clausen, frontman of the band Efterklang. They played the Mercury Lounge in NYC and if I only had one word, the show was EPIC.

I remember the cavernous venue and the rim-lit players cast in red and green lights (odd, it did feel a bit like a Christmas present, but whether belated or early who can say?). I remember the TOP GUN t-shirt and the mustaches. I remember the girl, over there in the corner, the only one not moving around the stage like a doubled-over Greek waiter.

And I remember the music. The swelling, soaring, air tight music. Some old songs, and some new ones, but it didn’t really matter (although the new ones gave me that tingly, prophetic “album-of-the-year” feeling, seriously).

I remember the violin and the flute, and the harmonies of an angel. I remember Casper’s liberal use of drumsticks and kazoo, his persistently piercing vocal delivery and clever banter. On paper, this should have been a hodgepodge of instruments and sounds, all messy and experimental. And yet, in person it was harmonious and composed, and striving for perfection. It was more ambitious and yet more cohesive than, say, an Arcade Fire concert. How unexpected, and blissful for us all.

I remember the encore. Oh, the encore. The one where they asked us (very Danishly, ie. kindly) to sing a melody for them, which we all did. They flipped the script on us, and began layering their music over OUR collective singing (which sounded eerie and beautiful, actually). They brought the drums in, and played alongside our choral wonder.

And I mean that literally: they took the snare, the kick, the high hat, and walked right off stage and into the crowd, only to set up camp right next to yours truly. We formed a circle around them as their drumming got faster and faster. We tried to keep up our singing, and did a fair job of it. But Casper helped us out, wailing his heart out in a slick sheen of serendipitous sweat.

And then… it was over. We were all left breathless, in awe of the ghost who had possibly touched our very souls (I can prove it, my jeans were even vibrating. Wait. What?). I’m still a little breathless, if truth be told.

This was Efterklang as I never remember hearing them. These songs swelled and washed over us like waves crashing against a rocky shore. One song after the other utilized the same recipe of layering and building until we couldn’t hear ourselves thinking how amazing it all was. Only after it was all over could we make sense of that thought clearly enough to analyze it.

I have to go re-listen to Efterklang now, because the band I remember seemed much more carnival than funeral. More experimental than cinematic; but not tonight. After tonight, I feel like they deserve their very own orchestra.

And yet… maybe they don’t need one at all. Ghosts can be tricky that way.

Mp3 – Site – Myspace

This Saturday, March 28, Matt Taylor and the guys from Aderbat will be playing a short set in support of Asha for Education at Piano’s in NYC on the LES (for some reason they aren’t listing the event on their site yet). The venue website doesn’t have it listed, but it’s $15/person with 100% of the proceeds going to Asha.

A band I can’t find anything about called Come Together will open the show at 8:00p, followed by Cold Spring’s own Dana Edelman at 9:30p. Aderbat play at 10:30p, and Eighty East (think CSN&Y meets Slumdog) close the show at 11:30p. It should be a fun night, a good mix of bands.

Their Myspace page has the concert listed, and you can check out some of their songs in Mp3 form on their Blog.

Let’s all go! I’ll be the guy in the corner avoiding people and listening to the lyrics the whole time.

It’s not like St. Vincent’s previous album Marry Me lacked in the area of chillingly poison-sweet awesomeness, but if her latest single (released on Annie’s website this afternoon) is an indication of things to come, we are all in for some tasty treats.

This track is titled “The Strangers” and is somewhat of a magical romp through clouds both angelic and stormy, with a recurring line evoking the paradox of Annie Clark’s music. After hearing “paint the black hole blacker,” throughout the song, it’s hard to fathom the heavenly journey she is taking us through (note the Sistine Chapelesque choral bookends contrasted against the apocalyptic cavalry of fuzzed out guitars around the 2:30 mark).

Okay enough of my ramblings, just enjoy the song for St. Vincent’s sake. And get ready for May 5, when Actors is unveiled (or later this week in its low-quality glory, if the plight of Grizzly Bear is any indicator).

Listen to “The Strangers”

My daughter likes the new song, Two Weeks from the upcoming Grizzly Bear album, Veckatimest. Here’s some proof:

It was an accident, I tell you. A grizzly affair, truly. The dory just crept to the foreground, forced me to pull it from the black waters. If it didn’t sound so beautiful, I would have thrown it back, done an about face. I promise.

It might not be the best quality meat, but… I… just… can’t… let… go. Not ready, nor able. I’ll digest this one while I wait for the others.

Oh, and about the opera, dory. I was wrong.

In other news.

I went to see Grizzly Bear perform with the Brooklyn Philharmonic at BAM in Brooklyn, at the Howard Gilman Opera House. Guess where Grizzly Bear are from? You guessed it. This was sort of a homecoming for them, and I believe it was their first performance since finishing their forthcoming album, VECKATIMEST. Their last performance was in October.

So how was the show?

Well, I really wanted to see the opening act, Final Fantasy, which is fronted by Owen Pallett, the guy who writes arrangements for the likes of Arcade Fire, Beirut, Patrick Wolf and so on. Unfortunately, I mismanaged the evening and was eating dinner through most of his set; I only got to hear the end of his last song, and it sounded spectacular. He would know what to do with that orchestra.

All that aside, I have to say I left the show wanting a little more. Grizzly Bear definitely performed well, and the venue must have been their best venue they’ve ever performed in (this was my first time seeing them, tragically), and a perhaps bit daunting at that. And for that reason, the night came off a little bit lackluster. With the full force of the Brooklyn Philharmonic behind them, they seemed a bit like timid high-schoolers. They said themselves during their encore, after the orchestra left, how it was terrifying to have the orchestra behind them.

The set-list did include most of the strong tracks off of Yellow House (they opened with easier, which was lovely, but no knife which makes sense, but it was my first GB concert, but oh well). They played several new songs (Two Weeks , and a couple older songs they were performing for the first time, like Campfire). Several of the songs, however, had me losing my focus (Foreground, is that ironic?). They didn’t carry the distinctness of some of their stronger material, and I’m just hoping that is a product of being in their infancy live, and not a reflection of the new album’s potential. I liked their rendition of She Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss) a lot. Droste changed the “She” to a “He”, however, but I believe he is gay, so that would make sense? I also really liked one of the new songs where the orchestra swelled with the band at the song’s climax (Ready, Able).

Daniel Rossen stole the show for me, with his kermit banjo moment and otherwise sharp, hautning vocals. Ed Droste was on point vocally, but there was so much much reverb on his mic I wondered if I was hearing flashes of Morten Harket. Meanwhile, Chris Taylor was channeling his best Jonny Greenwood impression, going so far as to play his pan flute from a crouched position for some unknown reason. Chris Bear was busy flailing his bangs to and fro, frolicking with his tambourine-adorned high hat, and generally driving the ladies wild with his boyish good looks.

I attended the show with my friend Patrick, who was marveling on the subway at how much better Lykke Li was to him in concert than on her album. I have to say the opposite was true tonight for me. I didn’t get the same magic that drew me to Grizzly Bear in the first place. Maybe it was my mood, being lost in Manhattan with family so far away. I don’t know.

For the most part, I found the set to be overly quiet, bordering on lethargic, and everything just felt a touch bland to my ears. Several of their classic tracks (little brother) sounded slightly elevator music-ish in the hands of Michael Christie and his orchestra.

At any rate, I can’t say I want my money back (there was defnitely plenty to enjoy), but I can’t put it on any Top 10’s either. Let’s just hope the new album makes up for what I missed out on tonight.

One of the better songs of the night, most recently appearing on the Dark was the Night compilation:

Watch on Vimeo

“Deep Blue Sea” @ lofi.tv.