Reptar, Rubblebucket

The Echo Presents

Reptar

Rubblebucket

On An On, Icky Blossoms

Sun, September 23, 2012

8:00 pm

Echoplex

Los Angeles, CA

$14.00 - $16.00

This event is 18 and over

Please Note: **Tickets purchased at the door on day of show will have $1 facility fee applied ** DOORS CHANGED TO 8PM! COME OUT EARLY!! **

Reptar
Reptar
Reptar are a music band from Athens, Georgia. Made of Andrew McFarland, Ryan Engelberger, William Kennedy and Graham Patrick Ulicny who all lovingly recorded their debut EP Oblangle Fizz Y'all (Vagrant Records) in early 2011. They also performed at the 2011 Lollapalooza, Austin City Limits, and Governor's Ball music festivals. When I look to my left and right I see my friends. My friends on drums, my friends on bass, my friends synthesize organic music, my friends play guitars all just to put into sound our every-days and our really wannas and our never gonnas. Nasty trouble awaits those who embark on journeys without sonic pleasures. Reptar wants to realize this potential in a brighter context, locked into a holy beat and locked in a sexy romantic dance closet. Really want to release that anxious stuff? Earth flowers? Want to feel that good kind of nasty and evoke the green pastures of some crazy reality? Let's try.
Rubblebucket
Rubblebucket
RUBBLEBUCKET: A BIOGRAPHICAL SOMETHING
Rub-ble-buck-et [ru-bul-buck-it] Noun 1. A vessel in which workers collect waste materials on a construction site; We need a rubblebucket for all this rubble. 2. A wild art-pop band from Brooklyn, NY; I'm jonesing for the new Rubblebucket album ‘Survival Sounds’. 3. The condition of having hard nipples, or riding a mean yes wave; He has great Rubblebucket. Verb 4. The act of uncrossing one’s arms and letting loose, while strange, new feelings and sounds flood mind and body, leading to uncontrollable dancing, possible injury and definite sweat; Man, we really put the rubble in the bucket last night.
My experience with Rubblebucket goes way back – to the summer of 1987, when I was born and first met lead singer and baritone saxist Kalmia Traver, then four. Kalmia was already well on her way to being a multi-instrument prodigy (penny whistle, recorder, alphabet burping), and I was already drowning in the ginormous shadow that she cast just by breathing. When she put our brother in a dress, blonde wig and heels, let me put on his lipstick, then forced his elastic micro-limbs into a diva pose, I knew she was a natural performer. Kalmia met Alex Toth (band leader, trumpeter, guy, brother-from-another-mother, Jersey) in a latin jazz combo in Burlington, VT. I’m assuming she also dressed him in drag, because he liked her and they became friends, painting the town with their loud horn playing. In 2006, they moved to Boston, where they did respectable things for money. Kalmia nude modeled for art classes, and Alex was hustling marching band gigs at $50 a pop, for which he was required to wear a black shirt and march around for six hours at a time OR NO PAY NO WATER NO DINNER. It was like that scene in Oliver Twist. Naturally, out of this hot, tarry, magical, broke-ass time, Rubblebucket emerged like a huge, slippery, post-afrobeat baby. Alex had met trombonist Adam Dotson at one of these marching gigs, and the three began composing and playing the first songs in Rubblebucket’s repertoire. Soon, they were joined by three more friends – guitarist Ian Hersey, drummer Dave Cole, and 15-seater van Puppy – and started taking the Rubblebucket show on the road. The first time I heard Rubblebucket perform live, two things happened: I realized this was the coolest thing on earth, like the lovechild of a unicorn and the Tom Tom Club, and I asked them if I could sell their merchandise at shows. You know what they say – those who can't do, sell merch. Night after night, standing behind that table of CDs, thongs and beer cozies, while Rubblebucket transformed the crowd from a skeptical wall of people into one big, happy, silly, jiving, open-hearted mass was an unforgettable experience. Their music does that – it just does. You can’t know it until you see it. And everyone who sees it, knows it. Like Paste, who said it best: “music that will make anyone with a pulse dance.” (I’ll annotate this by extending it to you pulse-less readers. You, zombie. I know you’re out there.) The Rubblebucket condition has spread, melting cares in its way. It barges in like an escaped rhino and triggers everyone, everywhere, to let loose and feel. Arm-crossing be damned! I’ve been to many Rubblebucket shows. But it wasn’t until I was mid-crowd in NYC’s Bowery Ballroom and heard a guy in front of me say to his friend “the singer looks so hot tonight” (but? Gross? That’s my sister?) that I knew Rubblebucket had made it. The experts will tell you that, actually, this was when they released their 2011 album Omega La La, with its headlining tracks “Came Out of Lady” and “Silly Fathers,” and reached a whole new, larger audience. Or, when they flew out to LA to play on Jimmy Kimmel Live, and got free pizza and Alex almost puked backstage. Or, when their song “Came out of a Lady” appeared in the movie Drinking Buddies, and I was suddenly one giant leap closer to meeting Anna Kendrick (that’s when I knew I had made it). Or, when their green rooms started stocking guacamole. Or, when their 2012 and 2013 EPs Oversaturated and Save Charlie introduced fans to the next and the next evolution of Rubblebucket, and more and more people fell in love. Now, much to my drool and dire impatience, the band is hovering on the knife’s edge of their next highly anticipated album release, Survival Sounds (Communion Records, Aug. 2014). Prepare yourself, universe.
Rubblebucket is many things and nothing at all; it’s a mindset, a legend, a feeling, a mystery; a mischievous, playful, boundary-smashing blast of sound that you can sit still and wonder at, or turn off your mind and move wildly to. Or both at the same time. As Kalmia said, when she handed me one of her now-famous peanut butter, cheddar cheese, cabbage, honey tacos, “This is the weirdest, most delicious thing you will ever taste.” And if you won’t take it on my authority, take it on the authority of a small, but reputable publication called Rolling Stone, reporting from Bonnaroo: “Rubblebucket revved up like an indie-rock Miami Sound Machine, dancers, horns and all.” And if you won’t take it on Rolling Stone’s authority, cleave to the words of guitarist Ian: “Our music is like being at a raging party, but in the center of it, there’s this beautiful painting that you’re staring at, trying to wrap your mind around.” Or the words of our dad, Tim Traver: “Kids these days.”

- Mollie Traver
On An On
On An On
On An ON is a project - and approach to making music - the three members had been waiting for. The Chicago & Minneapolis-based musicians – Nate Eiesland, Alissa Ricci, and Ryne Estwing -- that comprise the band had played music with one another in various capacities for the better part of a decade -- most recently as members of indie-pop outfit Scattered Trees. With almost every member of that band living in a different state (MPLS, MYC & Chicago), the distance proved too much. (MAYBE REMOVE THIS PREVIOUS SENTENCE) One fateful, cloudy night, while the soon-to-be On An On were standing in line for a show in Austin, TX, a conversation took place that would shape their musical future (needs work). They would leave their other projects behind and the trio would emerge ready to create art that melted outside the lines. With an affinity for chaos and the unprocessed, and tired of the polished pop format void of risk, they were escorted into a new atmosphere of making music.



Their new project bloomed when they traveled to Toronto only three weeks later to collaborate with producer Dave Newfeld (Broken Social Scene, Super Furry Animals, Los Campesinos!). With a knack for genre-melding, and a boundary-pushing mindset, Newfeld would prove to be the perfect match for the trio’s caution-less approach. In the studio, the musicians explored a newfound chemistry and honed their sound; synthesizers, scattershot electro beats and ambient ear candy would give guitars, bass and drums a newfound ghostly sheen.

“We really wanted to get away from the sterility of our previous approach to recording.” Eiesland states. Along with Newfeld, the three artists readily embraced the unknown and opened up to sessions filled with spontaneity and instinct.

The end result was Give In, ON AN ON’s ten-track debut album – a dream-washed textural journey armed with a biting perspective on life, love, and the commonality of loss. The affair sizzles with electricity and calls one in with its unnerved openness. It’s a project – and approach to music -- the three musicians in ON AN ON had been waiting for.

For Eiesland, recording Give In was a self-described exorcism: it allowed him to let go of old projects and bad habits, and more importantly, open himself up to benefits that vulnerability allowed for in the songwriting process. The band learned to adopt an improvisational ear for melody, and accept the charm of particular aural nuggets that in the past they might otherwise have deemed flawed.

And while the melodies on Give In -- those soaring, undulating synth grooves that set the table for pearly harmonic hymns -- might clue one in to the trio's newfound sonic palate, it's through the album's messages that the group member’s respective evolution becomes most apparent. Eiesland wrote the majority of the lyrics on Give In, in the process fully coming to an understanding of death and the traps that life springs upon us. Whether 
letting his intuition guide him on "I Wanted To Say More” ("You are a saint and you’re the devil/Every word I spoke to you, I thought that they were wings/ But they were only feathers”) or owning up to life's inevitability on "All The Horses" ("A family tree will split in two halfway through its life"), there's a tempered calm to the brain candy he eschews. Estwing offered up his own lyrical séance via on his lead vocal track "Cops"; although the bassist says his message -- that the police can be surprisingly corrupt -- is more direct.

What Give In, more than anything, provided for ON AN ON was a sense of urgency: to fulfill their creative fancy; to embrace uncertainty --– albeit, this time, on their own terms.
Icky Blossoms
Icky Blossoms
Hailing from America's center, Omaha-based Icky Blossoms formed in the blizzard of 2011 through friendship, trials and a mutual desire to make art and new music. A brainchild born from the boredom of sitting still. Guitarist and vocalist Derek Pressnall met Icky Blossoms vocalist Sarah Bohling and lead guitarist Nik Fackler in the vibrant Omaha art scene and invited them to play in his band Flowers Forever. Enchanted by endless nights in clubs and inspired with a desire to program dance music with instantaneous grooves and depth, Pressnall, an acclaimed visual artist, and Fackler, a spirit-award nominated filmmaker, combined with Bohling's mesmerizing voice and formed Icky Blossoms.

Icky Blossoms combine bass-heavy electronic grooves, pop structure, and a rock & roll swagger to pioneer a sound on the audio vanguard: music that is simultaneously avant garde, catchy and danceable. Their music spans from the anthemic to the introverted, chronicling the twists and turns of the human condition. Nodding to great sub-genres of the past, while creating songs firmly propelled into the future. Each band member arrives at the group from distinct musical backgrounds and collectively cite varied influences including contemporary pop, electronic, hip hop, experimental, no wave and world music. When Derek, Sarah, and Nik each input their particular inspirations they create a final product that is not only wholly unexpected, but greater than the sum of its parts.

Icky Blossoms' sound and explosive live shows caught the attention of Omaha's distinguished Saddle Creek, which has since signed the trio to release their debut LP. The self-titled album, produced by Dave Sitek from TV On The Radio, is slated for a July 17, 2012 release and features tracks that range from "Perfect Vision," an experiment based around trunk thumping low end and chainsaw guitars, to "Babes," which was lauded by Rolling Stone as a "girl-power dance anthem." Other standout tracks include "Heat Lightning," with its hypnotic arpeggiated synths, electro pulse and sirenesque vocals; the more raucous "Sex to the Devil," featuring futuristic synth lines and esoteric lyrics; or "Temporary Freakout," a classic pop song within an unconventional structure.

With a strong emphasis on DIY, the trio plans to integrate all their artistic abilities into the band, able then to better connect with those who choose to follow their creations or attend their live shows. Imbued with a celebratory atmosphere, their concerts have grown to be conduits for personal expression and individual creativity for everyone in the room. Loud, sweaty and out of control, the edge of their music and personalities combine with the hooks of their pop songs, creating a show which is one side dance party, one side mosh pit.

By brazenly denying to be subservient to a single genre or medium, Icky Blossoms is set to garner the attention of a truly diverse audience and make a lasting impact on music to come.
Venue Information:
Echoplex
1822 W. Sunset Blvd
The Echoplex is located below The Echo, enter through the alley at 1154 Glendale Blvd
Los Angeles, CA, 90026