Author: andrea Page 17 of 71

Less a band than an unstoppable force, What Cheer? Brigade make Gogol Bordello look like wallflowers. Formed in Providence in 2005, this insane party machine has brought its unique éclat and élan to art openings, libraries, school playgrounds, traffic islands, warehouses and music festivals — often accompanied by fellow freaksters, Big Nazo.

Lo and behold, band-that-couldn’t-be-tamed has finally unleashed its debut long-player upon the world, We Suck, You Blow [Anchor Brain].

You can order direct from both band and label, but that would be so …expected. If you act now, you can buy artist Will Schaff’s super-cool What Cheer? Screenprint. Published by Tiny Showcase in a limited edition of 100, each print comes with a download code for the record, thus ensuring that you, too, can turn your abode into a truly righteous soirée sauvage! (Gorilla masks not included.)

What Cheer Brigade, “Siayan Re Saiyan”

ARTWORK BY WILLIAM SCHAFF, “WHAT CHEER?”

Last week, producer Mark van Hoen broke the news that legendary band Seefeel would be reuniting after 15 years.

Seefeel was part of the flowering of avant-garde electronica in the early 90s. Experimental and deconstructed, the movement bubbled up in parallel —and in contrast— to the boisterous, self-congratulatory BritPop movement.

Here’s what vocalist and guitarist Sarah Peacock had to say about the reunion:

There’ll be an LP and an EP (no titles decided yet) — it’s not quite finished. We’re signing to Warp again and it should be coming out late summer.It’s just me and Mark from the originals; with Justin in Northampton and Darren in Kuala Lumpur rehearsals would be a problem. Filling in are Shige ishihara (DJ Scotch Egg) on bass and E-da Kasuhisa (Boredoms) on drums. I’d recommend checking the Seefeel Myspace page for news (they often get it before me!).

We’re hoping to get some festival dates between now and then (should be doing Primavera in Spain on May 27th), and certainly would like to tour but nothing’s arranged yet.

That’s about all there is at the moment, I’ll keep you posted!

I for one can’t wait.

Seefeel, “Time to Find Me”

When Johnny Rotten (née Lydon) closed the Sex Pistols’ final show by sneering, “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?,” his query was directed as much to the band’s notorious svengali, Malcolm McLaren, as to the audience.

McLaren, an art-school dropout with a taste for semiotic sound-bites and sixth-form provocation, carefully contrived the Pistols for maximum confrontation value. He hand-picked each band member as much for their talents as their grit-in-the-oyster qualities.

A combustion engine sparking on all cylinders, the Pistols’ internal conflicts made the music burn that much faster and brighter. Lydon, the spit-and-vinegar Dickensian urchin, was pitted against the conventional pop sensibilities of Glen Matlock, with Messrs. Cook and Jones providing solid backup. (Vicious was added later, for maximum disruption value.)

Artfully crafted to shock, the results exceeded McLaren’s wildest expectations —and changed the face of music forever.

After the Pistols, lightning never struck twice for McLaren, not with Duck Rock, Waltz Darling or even the Lolita arch-pop of Bow Wow Wow (although that came close).

Ultimately, it’s hard to know where to stand on him: was he a postmodern visionary or a hack? Cultural appropriator or genius? Svengali trickster or pop-cultural cut chemist?

An infuriating blend of urbane sophisticate and schoolboy, sniggering over pornography and juvenile pranks, McLaren made himself very difficult to admire.

While he hardly invented punk or hip-hop (the very thought is ridiculous), he had a major talent for bringing vanguard art, music, and dance to the attention of the right people at the right time. (He gets points for bringing a collagist, mash-up sensibility to the fore long before it became the norm.)

In the end, though, he won the begrudging respect of even his most vociferous detractors, thanks to his daffy wit and uncanny ability to mesh wildly disparate cultural phenomena.

I leave you with one of his finest cross-genre cut-ups, “Double Dutch,” released in 1983.

Malcolm McLaren, “Double Dutch” 12” version, 1983

PHOTO BY ANDREA FELDMAN