The Best of Times, Worst of Times, All of the Times | Bklyn Sounds 5/2/2024—5/7/2024

On the importance of music in the time of strife + Shows: DJ Etta @ 'Lifesavers x Moods' / Eiko Ishibashi / Jeff Mills @ 'Long Play Festival' / sinonó / Gilles Petersen / 'Public Service' /

I was sitting at my desk beginning to write this column on Tuesday evening. Unlike many weeks, when I have no idea what the feature is going to be, I was leaning into a long-settled topic: How May 3rd, 4th and 5th was one of those great New York cultural weekends, a semi-regular occurrence when options for musicking and other arts-related events overflow. Even for the discerning palette — or maybe, especially for it — this weekend promised…actually, still promises…an abundance of riches. 

There are three exceptional multi-night, multi-stage programs on the docket: Four Tet & Friends’ two-day rave at Under the K Bridge Park (now sold out, but tickets still floating around), a three-day Long Play Festival of creative and improvisational music in venues throughout central Bklyn, and, for the underground, Lifesavers x Moods, a trio of club nights thrown by two groups of super-smart musickers. (More about the latter two, including discount codes, in the listings.) This weekend’s Frieze Art Fair, an expensive art-mall but an exquisitely curated and idea-generating one, brings with it not only a flurry of openings, performances and screenings, but also other associated art fairs. (Including the great 1-54 Contemporary African Art Fair.) And then there are all the things that begin to happen outdoors in New York, when the weather starts getting nice.      

But the world has a habit of getting in the way of great weather, of great music, and of agreed-upon themes. And so it was on Tuesday, before my first sentences were completed, notes from friends began arriving. Turn on WKCR, they entreated, for Columbia University’s student-run radio station had, on this evening, turned into the best source of coverage for the New York Police Department's stormtrooper-like invasion of the school’s campus. 

As you maybe know, students protesting the university’s investments in companies working with the Israeli military, had taken over Hamilton Hall on school’s Morningside Heights campus, while another encampment of anti-genocide protesters had formed on the campus’ South Lawn. The university administration chose not to negotiate with students, and in a change of policy, invited the NYPD to break into the shuttered hall and arrest protesters as trespassers. Which the cops did, and rather violently. (The ensuing days saw other campuses across the country quell protests by sending in local police forces, all of which seemed to act far more violently than the supposedly disruptive protesters.) Listening to WKCR’s play-by-play, especially as delivered by amateur student reporters, triggered a flashback to other times in my life when the radio was the only messenger of dejecting news — and to news reports from before I was born. (Then, social media presented evidence that what was taking place was merely deja vu.)

This then led to the question that I’ve struggled with for at least the past seven months — but if I am being honest, for much of my adult life: When the world is in such disarray, who even gives a f*ck about the good music or the great art taking place around the carnage? Does this sh*t even matter in the bigger picture? And certainly when you recognize the wealth and privilege of many dance- or creative-music festival-goers or art-fair attendees, and the mainstream political choices such demographic parties support, the answer might be that dancing the pain away, or turning to art for solace, is akin to “let[ting] them eat cake.” At best, a distraction —and certainly no part of a serious political conversation. In fact, when a well-meaning person on the Twitter hellscape asked “Where are all the artists creating protest songs?,” the rather-wise musician and New Inquiry columnist Jaime Brooks responded in a way that feels familiar: “...the corporate culture of the music business, shaped by decades of consolidation and financialization, keeps popular music impotent...speaking truth to power isn’t in the job description anymore.” 

But maybe this simply considers a dated version of what “speaking truth” is. Especially at a time when most of our better (and truly popular) lyricists are involved in their own feelings, or in personal beefs; these topics are a lot market-friendlier, and certainly more in keeping with the major tenets and drivers of social media-powered communication. Not only does structured political oppositional thought in art NOT pay, it requires communal thinking outside the DAW, and the individualized upload. There are fewer and fewer voices who could speak across communities, or actually choose to. Yet there are also collective sounds that make a gathered flock think, echoing common emotions; and there are certainly rhythms that unite audiences like never before. What’s missing is intention. So how do you aim these creative acts in the direction you want them to affect?          

Much as I respect Brooks, I don’t believe her notion that protest “isn’t in the job description” of musicians anymore. Mostly because I see quite the opposite day-in, day-out. Israel’s invasion of Gaza and its military’s ensuing, genocidal actions have been hanging over New York music for almost seven months now, and this decidedly pro-Palestine community speaks loudly, clearly and at pretty much every show I attend — with dress (specifically, a proliferation of keffiyehs), with on-stage declarations, with well-attended benefits, with bookings of Arabic, Middle Eastern and pro-Palestinean artists. As a community, it also loudly denounces discrimination of all sorts and (quite unlike our ridiculous government) does not conflate criticism of the state of Israel with antisemitism. Its calls to boycott are not of Jewish artists, but of anyone espousing propaganda, no different than turning your back on a MAGA singer-songwriter.

Music plays a part of our everyday lives not as an escape, but as a way to understand something that may be incomprehensible to the common speech. Communing around shared music — and art — remains more important than ever before. Especially now, in our time of crisis, as a reminder of our collective humanity, of the things that we inherently know work. The best and the worst of modern times have always been accompanied by great music, because they are always one and the same. The difference is perspective, and the memory that we can always do better.   

              

This Week’s Shows:

The Japanese singer-songwriter Eiko Ishibashi has a long pedigree of collaborating with  experimental music heavies, most prolifically with Jim O’Rourke, with whom she began working regularly once O’Rourke moved to Japan. But their work on her gorgeous, jazz-minimalist score to director Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s 2021 Oscar-nominated film, Drive My Car, took her international renown to another level. Eiko makes a rare New York appearance (two separate nights) to perform that music. Also on-board is the mighty Kalia Vandever, who may be opening and/or playing in Eiko’s ensemble - not 100%. Highest Recommendation! (Thur 5/2 & Tue 5/7, 7:30p @ Le Poisson Rouge, Manhattan - $20-$30)

Drummer Savannah Harris’ great improvised-music series Dual hosts a #3: This time around it features electric guitarist/singer-songwriter Key Hutchinson, whose solo sets expand into electronic spaces, and Alcove, long compositions by the duo of Alfredo Colón on woodwinds and Hank Mason on synths and electronics. (Thurs 5/2, 8p @ Sisters, Clinton Hill - $20) 

Presented by Bklyn’s White Owl Records, Sidechain promises to be an all-local, live-hardware night — and long-time readers know I’m a sucker for live techno electronics. The main point of attraction here is a set by the mighty Sweater on Polo, but young Kanyon’s got rounded bangers that remind me of Claude Young a bit, and is well worth checking. Also playing: UDNTKNWME, Avato and W.K.S.  (Thurs 5/2, 11p @ Trans-Pecos, Ridgewood - $10/$15)