Before meeting the guy, I envisioned Yonatan Gat as some latter-day guitar god, a reincarnation of that tradition of males whose sole purpose in life is to descend from the heavens (or in this case, Israel) at the permanent age of 27 to spend a brief but divine moment here on Earth, shredding away. I wasn’t alone– Yonatan Gat has been dubbed a “composer,” referred to as a “world music-inspired maestro,” and compared to Jimi Hendrix. It seems that whoever’s looking at him perceives Gat as rock-idol progeny. So when I found myself walking up to an actual castle in Brooklyn Heights, my suspicions seemed all but confirmed.
Yeah, yeah we’re well aware there’s a holiday weekend– for some of us, anyway– coming up soon, but all the better to pack in some legit shows this week before you pack your bags. Besides, just face it, you’re probably doing something not that far from grilling/hanging/sun-roasting/eating/boozing/eating/boozing and acting generally like a beached whale on a bender this weekend anyway, so might as well sweat out the last of your bikini blob at these bangers.
Hate to break it to you but the band to see this week, Royal Headache (Mark E. Smith and Morrissey moved to Australia and had a baby, basically) has sold out two freaking shows, one at Palisades and another at Rough Trade. What a royal… pain in the ass these guys are, coming all the way from Upside Down America only to play a couple of shows in what is inarguably the center of the goddamn universe! You’re officially counted as #tragic if you don’t have a ticket, but don’t go plotting any public beheadings just yet, there are plenty of worthy alternatives to wrap your ears around.
Our only utterance of advice for this week: pack em in, kids. If you’re as unsettled about the end of summer as we are, consider taking some of that aggression out at any number of these shows (there’s enough punk to go around for all of yous) or, better yet, gaze at some of these truly gnarly noise-makers in awe of frustrations much deeper than your own. Best, best, best of all, though: see what happens after a legendary rapper denounces her medium but returns to the stage anyway for something altogether new. Cheers to spiteful finales.
We’ve got quite a week in music ahead of us, with no shortage of neuron-twisting, brain ‘sploding variety. A week in shows wouldn’t be the same without that post-punk sound that’s so very now. This time around, two (very different) bands of this persuasion are sharing a bill as well as a genre, demonstrating these constraints are as fluid as their riffs. But best of all, a legendary psych band that perhaps you took for extinct will light up the stage at one of our favorite lil’ DIY venues. Hope that’s enough flavor to get you scrolling.
Whether you’re a child of the ’80s or the aughts, your film heroes will come to life at these tributes to Ferris Bueller and Harry Potter. Get ready to don your wizard hat, mullet, or both.
Aug. 1, 2 until 8 pm at The Bell House: $8 at the door
Sorry, little muggles, this event is 21+. While there will be the requisite costumes of black robes and wands, there will also be drinks of the knock-you-off-your-broom variety (think Firewhiskey and Butterbeer). Beyond witches and wizards, expect to see magical creatures, squibs and muggles competing to win the costume contest (you may have a chance unless the lovely Fleur shows up). You can also see if you’re as smart as Hermione during trivia. Or take your turn in the sorting ceremony and try on the dusty hat. Overall, this is the perfect time to let out your inner Potterhead and practice your shoddy British accent with no shame. In keeping with Harry’s defeat of You-Know-Who through love and friendship, part of the PotterCon proceeds will go to the Harry Potter Alliance.
Gigawatts Fest is happening this weekend, which is great and all — I need my pop fix as much as the next guy. But sometimes I want to be surrounded by sounds that whinge, “I’mmmmmmm differentttttt.” If that’s you, too, get thee to these smaller shows where you’ll find acts that don’t exactly qualify as festival material, if you catch my drift.
If you had a chance to swing by Our Wicked Lady in the hours before their grand opening then maybe you found the loopy singer-songwriter Mac DeMarco throwin down dogs whilst a couple of his new tracks bumped on the boom box. Or perhaps you were stuck behind double-paned office windows, miles from anything resembling summer or fun, let alone new music. Stir not in jealousy, though, for the release of 25-year-old Rockaway resident Mac Demarco’s new “mini-LP” is just on the horizon.
“This is a chance to look at the first genocide,” said director Rajendra Ramoon Maharaj as he opened last night’s performance of “Trail of Tears” at The Nuyorican Poets Café. The emotional storm of dance, song and soliloquy casts a satirical eye on the forced relocation of Native Americans in the 1830s.
Though too often forgotten, Maharaj said, the tragedy served as a precursor to the enslavement of Africans – bruises on the face of this country that have yet to heal. He quoted a long-gone English chief: “When you acknowledge the dead, the dead stand taller.”
Here’s to hoping you took this past weekend to cram your butt, beach umbrellas, and coolers full of malt liquor onto the A train, also known as the Express Train to Beach Salvation. Lord knows nearly all of Brooklyn decided this was the way to go. I’ve got the bite marks to prove it. If you didn’t get your Rockaway kicks in along with the rest of us, chances are you’re gonna miss out big time on a weekend of epic gigs on the horizon. Trust us, this is the time to play hooky, because how else are you possibly going to realize your Best Summer Ever without skipping out on your earthly responsibilities? You’ve really dug yourself a hole, haven’t you? Here are the shows happening this week that’ll get you out of it.
Welcome back to IRL. Here’s to hoping you had a good one being equal parts proud to live in a country where you don’t have to think too hard about what went into your readily available Apple phone and palm oil snacks, and all “pshhh” about the whole affair. We’re also fingers-crossed that you didn’t go too DIY on fireworks after a failed reconnaissance mission ‘cross the Pennsylvania border (really, you gotta know a guy to get anything close to decent fireworks ’round these parts)– because fingers and toes are maybe more valuable than even the most awe-inducing homemade mortar blast or Roman candle to your unsuspecting friend’s face. In the interest of such things, maybe you didn’t get your kicks, but fear not, there are better, much safer ways to get your thrills via rock n’ roll. Take this week to scoot your butt to some shows and allow yourself to revel. Believe us, it’ll make up at least a little bit for this increasingly less-explosive holiday.
So, we dunno about you, but we certainly slept on the Death Grips shows, both of which sold out faster than you can say, “What the hell? I thought they broke up?” One’s happening at Webster Hall on July 7 and another at Brooklyn Masonic Temple on the 8th, just in case you think you have a chance of weaseling your way in. But the rest of us are just going to have to settle for a bunch of other great shows coming up, though keep in mind most of them are sandwiching the weekend. Coz it’s our Great Nation’s Birthday Celebration on Saturday, in case your sense of time is already shot from all the Jell-O shots, Cat Hair Pills, and dips in the East River after chilling at our borough’s sickest yacht club, all of which are required in heavy doses to live your best summer ever (these are actually things we’re doing, don’t sneer). Hence missing the party boat straight to Death Grips. Le sigh. You live and you learn.