Post by ben on Dec 29, 2010 1:37:30 GMT -5
I wasn't aware of the microphones back then but his shows in the early 2000s sound so crazy, I love just reading about them. Does anybody know of any recordings of shows like these? I know Wise Old Little Boy has some great clips of Kyle Field playing King Dark Death and other theatrics.
www.citypages.com/2002-08-28/music/zen-circus/
"I started playing the guitar, and there was this cave behind me--which was really just a fort with blankets that said "cave" on it. My friend Cara was in there in a bear costume. In the middle of my third song, she let out this big growl. I said, "What was that?" And someone in the audience said, "There's a cave behind you!" So I went into the cave with my flashlight, and I met the bear. We did a duet where we battled each other in song, but we had a tie, so we needed to settle our dispute. And we arm-wrestled each other, and the bear won--obviously, because it's a bear.
So the bear won my flashlight, and without my flashlight I'm nothing. The bear was like, "There's one way that you can get your flashlight back, but you wouldn't be interested."
People in the audience were like, "No, tell us!" They were actually getting really concerned about the flashlight.
The bear said, "Everyone has to levitate Phil without touching him for the space of three songs, and hold hands in a circle around him and sing along"--even though they didn't know the words because they'd never heard the songs before.
And the people said, "Levitate him without touching him? Yeah, right!"
In the back, I had already told a friend of mine to shout out, "Hey, I have an idea! Let's use this rope!" So they tied my feet together and hoisted me up to the ceiling of this warehouse space. It was incredible. People really did it! I played guitar hanging upside down for three songs, and they held hands and sang around me. It hurt so bad because all the blood went to my head, and the singing was forcing more blood to rush to my head. I think if I had stayed up any longer, I would have gotten brain damage. But I love physical challenges like that."
microphones.fateback.com/setrev.html
"He goes on a few more acoustic songs and talks about this guy who danced naked at a show , then Phil runs on stage and starts singing "the moon" he talks to the audience, telling us that we can call him "Samurai Phil" because he cuts through the bullshit. He then all makes us hold hands and he takes us out to a field behind this club (which is in the middle of nowhere) we all hold hands while he sings a song on his guitar. and there is a railroad track out there and this full fleet of Armed tanks and missles pass us! everyone stopped and looked. then returned to the show."
pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/5271-blood/
"•Elvrum, usually hiding behind a fort made of newspapers and cheap fabrics, sometimes emerging to make up songs on the spot, often while donning an oversized cartoon wolf's head, chasing Maricich around the room, stealing audience members' sodas, and referring to himself only as "Big Bad Death."
Not a single instrument was amplified. Not one song off a single Microphones album was sung. There was no proper order of acts; the musicians jumped in and out of one another's sets at will. The performance left two strong impressions in my mind. One was a strong understanding of the ideals behind Johnson's Dub Narcotic Studios, which favors community and fooling around over so-called proper musicianship. The other? The elimination of any doubt in my mind that Phil Elvrum is one fucking strange individual."
www.citypages.com/2002-08-28/music/zen-circus/
"I started playing the guitar, and there was this cave behind me--which was really just a fort with blankets that said "cave" on it. My friend Cara was in there in a bear costume. In the middle of my third song, she let out this big growl. I said, "What was that?" And someone in the audience said, "There's a cave behind you!" So I went into the cave with my flashlight, and I met the bear. We did a duet where we battled each other in song, but we had a tie, so we needed to settle our dispute. And we arm-wrestled each other, and the bear won--obviously, because it's a bear.
So the bear won my flashlight, and without my flashlight I'm nothing. The bear was like, "There's one way that you can get your flashlight back, but you wouldn't be interested."
People in the audience were like, "No, tell us!" They were actually getting really concerned about the flashlight.
The bear said, "Everyone has to levitate Phil without touching him for the space of three songs, and hold hands in a circle around him and sing along"--even though they didn't know the words because they'd never heard the songs before.
And the people said, "Levitate him without touching him? Yeah, right!"
In the back, I had already told a friend of mine to shout out, "Hey, I have an idea! Let's use this rope!" So they tied my feet together and hoisted me up to the ceiling of this warehouse space. It was incredible. People really did it! I played guitar hanging upside down for three songs, and they held hands and sang around me. It hurt so bad because all the blood went to my head, and the singing was forcing more blood to rush to my head. I think if I had stayed up any longer, I would have gotten brain damage. But I love physical challenges like that."
microphones.fateback.com/setrev.html
"He goes on a few more acoustic songs and talks about this guy who danced naked at a show , then Phil runs on stage and starts singing "the moon" he talks to the audience, telling us that we can call him "Samurai Phil" because he cuts through the bullshit. He then all makes us hold hands and he takes us out to a field behind this club (which is in the middle of nowhere) we all hold hands while he sings a song on his guitar. and there is a railroad track out there and this full fleet of Armed tanks and missles pass us! everyone stopped and looked. then returned to the show."
pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/5271-blood/
"•Elvrum, usually hiding behind a fort made of newspapers and cheap fabrics, sometimes emerging to make up songs on the spot, often while donning an oversized cartoon wolf's head, chasing Maricich around the room, stealing audience members' sodas, and referring to himself only as "Big Bad Death."
Not a single instrument was amplified. Not one song off a single Microphones album was sung. There was no proper order of acts; the musicians jumped in and out of one another's sets at will. The performance left two strong impressions in my mind. One was a strong understanding of the ideals behind Johnson's Dub Narcotic Studios, which favors community and fooling around over so-called proper musicianship. The other? The elimination of any doubt in my mind that Phil Elvrum is one fucking strange individual."
