The roundup
Oct 21, 2009 |
The Throwdowns
“Musically, our influences are all over the place,” said Erin Smith, lead-singer of the Maui-based alternative-rock group, The Throwdowns. “If we’re driving around with an iPod, one second we’ll be listening to Metric, and the next second we’ll have a Miley Cyrus song on.”
So it comes as no surprise that Don’t Slow Down, the Throwdowns’ debut EP released in August, finds the quartet sifting through a grab bag of miscellaneous genres, searching for an identity. It’s tempting to compare the band to No Doubt, not only because both feature charismatic femme fatales backed by colorful male musicians, but also because both feel comfortable, and even entitled to, experimenting with everything from reggae to post-punk. The difference is that No Doubt covered this range of genres over a career spanning 18 years and five full-length albums, whereas The Throwdowns managed to do it in seven songs.
But really, who’s comparing? “Kihei Town,” a reggae-tinged homage to the beach town on Maui, is a drifty, somewhat languorous track featuring a flirtatious melody catchier than swine flu. On “Stolen Car,” angst-ridden guitars thrash behind Smith’s sultry purring: “Treat my body like a stolen car/you never moved so fast or got so far.” The two tracks are beacons of potential in an otherwise schizophrenic affair.
“It’s taken us a while, but I think we’re finally starting to figure out who we are as a band,” said Smith, a Toronto transplant. The Throwdowns will get a chance to rock their new identity in a line of upcoming gigs, including a performance next Friday at Anna Bannana’s for Go Jimmy Go’s release party.
“We’re pretty animated on stage. We jump around a lot, and launch ourselves off stage,” Smith said. “We just have a lot of energy, so that’s kind of what [The Throwdowns] refers to.”
Smith’s explanation doesn’t quite make sense–isn’t “throwing down” a street reference to fighting or pulling money for liquor?–but she says everything with such charismatic conviction, it hardly matters.
Mark Farina
Nowadays, new genres of music seem to sprout up faster than you can say “8-bit” (which, in case you were wondering, is a subgenre of electronica inspired by the sound of old computer consoles).
You can thank Mark Farina, a Chicago-based DJ, for concocting yet another genre known as Mushroom Jazz: a deep-dish blend of jazzy house music flecked with flares of vintage soul and down-tempo hip-hop. For anyone who’s ever taken a trip through Alice’s looking-glass, the name makes some sort of sense–as structured house beats collide with freewheeling jazz notes to create a dreamscape both disorienting and rapturous. Don’t be mistaken, this isn’t dance music–in fact the most you’ll want to do when under Farina’s spell is sit back and take in all the colorful, slightly heightened sensations swirling around you.
On Tuesday, Farina released the sixth installment of his Mushroom Jazz series, a collection of 20 mash-up style tracks from artists like Justin “J-Boogie” Boland and Kero One, a Korean-American rapper hailing from San Francisco. Overall, it’s standard Farina fare: hauntingly soulful and lounge-y, with an unusually ample dose of minimalist hip-hop. Tracks synch smoothly into one another without much warning, allowing time to fade into oblivion–a good thing considering Farina’s sets have been known to stretch on for as long as eight hours. This Saturday, take a trip to Wonderland–or Pipeline Café–as Farina returns to the islands for the Mushroom Music Festival.
Hope Mayo
Tattooed on Hope Mayo’s wrist is a quote inspired by Henry David Thoreau: “Live the life you have imagined.” On “Beauty,” the lead track of off Mayo’s debut LP, End of the Day, the singer-songwriter gives us a glimpse into this imagined life as she croons over a sparse, bluesy guitar: “If I could reach every boy and girl/ up and down and across the world/I’d take them by the hand and say ‘never stop believing.’”
Mayo, a Wahiawa girl who’s penned songs for Don Ho and Makana, cites Carol King as a primary songwriting influence, which explains why she’s prone to such sugary sentiments. Taking cues from Norah Jones and Nancy Wilson, End of the Day is bluesy, slow burning lounge music primed for moments of introspection. Mayo’s voice, reedy and sinuous, is often used to playfully scolding effect. It’s smoky without sounding weary–infectiously tuneful, but not groundbreaking.
And while pleasing, End of the Day is framed on formulaic chord progressions and readymade themes. To Mayo, such criticism hardly matters. “At the end of the day/Does it really, really matter what the critics say?” she sings on the albums title track. It’s a question without an answer, as she sounds joyous and passionate on these 11 tracks simply doing what she loves.
The songstress also knows how to play to her strengths. “I really love paying at smaller venues, like dark little jazz clubs where I can talk to my audience,” Mayo said. Her next gig, on Halloween night, will be at Doraku restaurant at Royal Hawaiian Shopping Center. I’ve never been, so I can’t vouch for the sushi, though with Mayo providing the soundtrack, it’s sure to be a classy, intimate affair, topped with a dash of hope.
