
Robert Cohen

Nothing’s Sexier Than Success: The-Dream at the Fonda
What is success? I’m sure Google can supply its own blasé explanation, but in an age where boundaries of race, class, and culture are becoming increasing indefinable, the goalposts of success have also drifted into a twilight zone whose borders shift as often as our expectations of what is possible these days. Thanks in equal part to an increasingly competitive media landscape and the rising ubiquity of social media, visibility and success have practically become synonymous. However, as anyone working the in the higher echelons of any industry knows, it’s often the people with the lowest profile who hold the real keys to the kingdom. related content: Corn Dogs, Fashion, Puke, And Rap: Camp Flog Gnaw 2018 Such is the case with seminal R&B act The-Dream. While by no means an unknown, after thumbing through even a short list of his production and writing credits, he has undeniably become more famous as a power-behind-the-throne figure than as a musician in his own right. Although comparisons to the music moguls of yore hold water on first diving into his output, unlike them, The-Dream shares more as an artist and culture driver with the éminence grise of politics, who conduct themselves concurrently as

I Saw Loop Daddy Kissing Mrs. Claus: Marc Rebillet at Los Globos
As the year comes to a close, there’s one thing that all people can agree on: 2018 has been fucking weird. Not weird in the sense of “funny ha ha,” but more along the lines of we’ve all been transported en masse to an alternate version of Earth where anything is possible and strange things happen due to what can only be assumed to be a cosmic sense of humor so complex that we’ve yet to wrap our heads around it. And while the negative weird of this brave new world grabs most of the headlines, the positive side effects of the chaos we now call home were on full display Friday night at Marc Rebillet’s (aka Loop Daddy’s) debut LA show at Los Globos, presented by L’Affaire Musicale & Orlove Entertainment. related content: Your Vagina May Catch Fire By The End Of This Song: Death From Above At Teragram Although I had only learned of his music a few weeks beforehand, it made an immediate impression. His music, while using familiar tools and techniques, utilizes these tools in such a way that each song feels incredibly fresh in a way that few performers can manage these days. While dissenters

Your Vagina May Catch Fire by the End of This Song: Death From Above at the Teragram
In her 1972 book Survival: A Thematic Guide to Canadian Literature, Margaret Atwood wrote that the Canadian way of death is death by accident. And while this perspective has been analyzed, discussed, and otherwise relentlessly picked apart in the years since the book’s initial publication, it’s important to note that while DFA may stand for many things, “Death From Accident” was certainly not one of them at Toronto’s own DFA’s Sunday show at The Teragram, despite the temptation at times to think of it that way. related content: Finally Admitting It’s Real: Portugal The Man At The Shrine There were times during the entire show I found myself contemplating if all the slip-ups in their career were somehow intentionally made so that the show could be as perfectly tailored as it was. This was a show that might as well have been planned by a Swiss watchmaker based on how effective it was in escalating the mood of the crowd with each consecutive action. From the size of the venue, to the makeup of the crowd, the swagger of the openers and headliners alike, even extending into the music that played before, in between, and after each set, this was

Nick Urata of DeVotchka Interview: Man on the Street
DeVotchka are hot off the heels of finishing their newest album This Night Falls Forever and touring. This interview with the band’s leader Nick Urata covers everything from film scores to World War 2. RC: At this stage in your career, you and the band have had several successful albums, created or have contributed to several fantastic film soundtracks, and have gained a high levels of regard within both indie and mainstream circles. Despite all of this though, you haven’t been put under the magnifying glass and can still live a more or less normal life doing what you love. In short, have you reached the happy medium of fame? And if so, is it as fulfilling as you hoped it would be? NU: Yes, I feel lucky in this regard. We’ve come to realize that the actual work, is the only thing that is fulfilling. The thrill of fanning a little spark of an idea into a giant fire is what really gets you out of bed. When you’re practicing in your room as a kid you want nothing more than to be famous, but the reality is quite complicated. In my case, I learned how to write from a

Finally Admitting it’s Real: Portugal. The Man at The Shrine
For everything pop culture as a whole has done to convince us that the best humanity has to offer comes out of relationships and love, outside of shitty rom coms, the weird and winding paths that people take to get into them often go unacknowledged. People often go months or years without expressing their true feelings; and when they do, the time and place is not always as cookie cutter perfect as it’s made out to be in the popular imagination. In my opinion, Portugal. The Man is characteristic of the many angles of this scenario in the context of a fan’s relationship with a band. Once upon a time, they were the new kid in school: a little band from Alaska whose songs would show up occasionally on a mix CD someone gave you of cool new music that had flown under the radar. A few years later after they’d earned more cred with the local kids, they start hanging out with one of the cool seniors who brings them to the next level: auteur producer Danger Mouse who produced their 2013 album Evil Friends. Their insider status secured, after a few years away they come home from college

Psych Rock Talk Radio: Wooden Shjips at the Bootleg Theater
Recently I was talking with a friend of mine who could not wrap his head around how anyone could listen to NPR for more than a few minutes. After a fair amount of prodding from others in the group, he was able to admit that it occasionally showcased relevant or otherwise interesting stories; however, its languorous, bordering on comatose, delivery of the material in his mind catapulted any idea of an extended listening session in the realm of the unthinkable. While there are many qualities separating Thursday’s Wooden Shjips show at The Bootleg from listening to talk radio, the further one goes down the rabbit hole with them, the more apparent the similarities become. related content: Between Coachellas, Brazilian Boogarins At The Echo For this reason, it’s almost poetic that the lead in to the main event of the night was named Terry Gross, in this instance being the San Francisco based rock outfit, not the eponymous radio host of NPR’s Fresh Air (although, I would’ve happily paid extra to see her shred for a couple bars). Though I’d never heard of them before and pondered over whether or not the bass player was a long lost cousin

The First Real Day of Summer: Hinds at Teragram
High school is a strange time in life. Caught between wanting the independence you can’t have and having the responsibilities you don’t want, it provides the emotional foundation on which many people build their sense of self and either seize on the opportunity to develop further or retreat towards the path of least resistance. And while high school is likely far in the rear view mirror of many people who attended Monday’s Hinds show at Teragram, for a multitude of reasons, every aspect of the show felt like a trip back into those comparatively halcyon days. related content: What’s Left To Ponders: Pond at Zebulon Kicking off this trend was LA based Jasper Bones. Although it would be easy to say he earns this distinction through his age alone (he’s 19 and I’m pretty sure his parents were the ones standing in front of me whooping for the better part of his set), the content and form of his music were the most telling signs of the high school vibe which came to dominate the night. Going for something of a Latin D’Angelo vibe, though eschewing the more pop aspects of similar acts such as Miguel, it was obvious

What’s Left To Ponders: Pond At Zebulon
One of the best things my Dad ever taught me was to learn the rules laid down by any system before deciding which ones deserve to be broken. After all, any rebellion set off without having done the necessary research can be painted at best as laziness and at worst as unbridled ignorance (i.e. the Occupy movement and/or the Tea Party). And Tuesday night at Zebulon, nothing was more evident than the fact that while Pond and their protégé Lord Fascinator have learned what it takes to make “successful” music, they’ve discarded any rules which have gotten in the way of their respective visions, much to the benefit of all who are willing to give them a chance. related content: Stayin’ Alive: Giorgio Moroder’s 78th Birthday At The Globe Theater Arriving at the beginning of the night was New York based DJ/performer Lord Fascinator. While I had never heard his music before, he managed to make an impression from the moment he and his band walked on stage; however, anyone who looks like dealer to a Heaven’s Gate offshoot out of the East Village likely would. Once the initial novelty of his appearance wore off though, he kicked off a

Stayin’ Alive: Giorgio Moroder’s 78th Birthday At The Globe Theater
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about who we become as we grow older. For all the hype the vitality of youth gets in our society, the shedding of the layers of bullshit that age affords people of all ranks is equally liberating and deserves its time in the sun as more than an ad for adult diapers or awful late-career DeNiro movie (I’m looking at you Dirty Grandpa). In many ways, this sentiment got its day at Giorgio’s Birthday Celebration at The Globe Thursday before last, with a fascinatingly disparate group of musicians who’re tied together by the knowledge that life is short, so you might as well be yourself. related content: Cloak & Dagger Fest: The Heart Of Los Angeles Bled From Dusk Till Dawn Kicking things off was the token millennial band of the night, Portland-based YACHT. As much as an admitted antipathy I’ve had for their music in the past, they managed to make a believer out of me when it finally clicked early on that the intermittently shitty indie-pop that I thought they were peddling is actually a rather clever satire on bands that are so focused on being “cool,” that they