DougW. 
Tash Jayasinghe
Cibbuano
And who's topped the Album list?
January 8th 2007 15:02
It's only the bloody Semifinalists... And it's only the 8th of January! Most end of year lists were done WEEKS ago, but not good old pioneering PM.
Album No. 1: Semifinalists – Semifinalists
There is so much conflict in this astonishingly accomplished debut. There are tensions of innocence, wide-eyed optimism and the crushing knowledge of life's affinities. There are numerous references to doomed relationships and to gleeful reconciliation. All of it, though, is polished off in about half an hour. Which is utterly confounding. Comparisons in the press to The Flaming Lips seem apt in both aesthetic and ideology, but Semifinalists have carved themselves a home from their own distnict shininess and sense of self/
Minute pop symphonies of massive technical complication are executed with brutal conviction and soothing strokes of the hand. The shocking clashes of the opening 'Origin Song' coupled directly with the pure pop wonder and uninhibited joy of 'Show The Way' makes for dichotomised listening in the most invigorating way possible. While it's not always easy to deal with this much change in the space of any one song, it certainly is always worth the effort.
The ghostly vocals of Chris Steele-Nicholson and Adriana Alba are wonderfully offset by Ferry Gouw's manic yelps for equality and desperate eruptions of spastic guitar, creating an aesthetic that is, at turns, tender and furious. With this much conflict in one record, it is easy to quarrel and call it unlistenable. But when the insistences of futility become almost too much to bear, Semifinalists recoil and regale, now intent on bringing something unbelievably positive out of the primordial sludge. With such a deep understanding of pop tactics and nature's power on the listener, there is nothing that Semifinalists can't describe in their work.
Go here instantly sirs!
And as a special treat, here's an excerpt from an interview PM did with the band in Camden earlier this summer. The whole thing can be read here (in a very poorly tabulated version... actually, this one isn't all that well laid-out either).
...
Strikingly, Semifinalists can be noted for their extreme organic considerations. Musically, of course, that remains true – their twinkling pint-sized symphonies for spacemen are fixated with life's terrifying affinities - but in person, a love of nature, despite its many brutalities, is startlingly present. Ferry Gouw even sports a fetching pink sweatshirt with swimming polar bears on it, apparently purchased in Central Park Zoo. "The zoos and aquariums in New York are like fashion central. For me, anyway."
As we sit in the barbeque-fragranced garden of Camden's Lock Tavern, it is made thoroughly clear that this troop of art-school upward-facers hold many things dear to them. It is not a case of where they are in relation to others; it is where they are in relation to themselves. Semifinalists revel in their outsider status, but also happily weave in and out of scenes and rosters, gig bills and festival circuits, like children who haven't decided on Daddy or Chips. And only full dedication is acceptable.
On their website, Semifinalists describe themselves as 'Punk as Shit'. It is a tag they seem outwardly conflicted with - Ferry admits that it is "one of the very few mistakes." But what does Punk mean to them? Gouw is mixed. "Well, it's good in a way. For a while it seemed easy to define, to claim. But now the validity of it seems… taken apart and pushed to the front. I don't know if it's even valid or valuable any more."
Chris Steele-Nicholson, Semifinalists' multi-tasking drummer, singer and laptop manipulator, is optimistic. "The context of Punk keeps changing. Back in the fifties, a punk was someone who just went against something that was status quo in any way he could muster it up. But the contemporary version of Punk, as I understand it, is something you instigate by yourself. Not necessarily a reaction to anything else. And I think that’s the Punk flag we're waving. We're pro-active. We're… constructionist-Punk."
Nowhere is this more evident than the music itself. Whether it is Ferry Gouw's manic yelping of "Sustaining life!" in 'Origin Song', or the resolute positivism of the unsinkable 'Show The Way' single (both from their V2-released self-titled debut), their damn-near-unbeatable lust for life is the one constant in their sound. As far as this translates to notions of Punk, it is complex.
Adriana Alba, Semifinalists' softly-spoken singer and keyboard-fiddler, is more incisive. "When we started, there were a lot of bands that were doing things out of irony and in a way I think we did react against that. We were trying to be genuine with our intentions, as well as musically, to who we were. I think that’s where that Punk mentality came from."
"I think internal Punk is important to a band," says Chris. "you have to be revolting against whatever just happened, in a way, and we're gonna stay Punk. It's Punk karma, if you will…"
"We're anti-violence in a big way." Adriana prompts an obvious question. So Semifinalists are straight-edge punk? The groans that follow the mere suggestion say more than a verbal explanation could.
Chris has a lighter definition. "We can't claim any moral high ground… we're meandering towards goodness."
In the past, Semifinalists have cast their eyes collectively upwards. It seems that only the terminal abyss of the big black could hold them. Recording in Space, then? "We're still working on that…" says Adriana.
Did you know that ZZ-Top have already booked their place as the first band in Space, though?
"No way! That's awesome." Chris is genuinely enthused. "That makes sense, they got that record cover with the space-shuttle car… that was a forecast thing."
Ferry gets scientific. "Here's the thing. It takes place in the future when technology would be advanced enough so that sound can move like light. You need technology that will change sound into radiation. How that affects the music itself would be something to explore. There's no medium for the sound to travel on. Sound can't travel through Space because there's no air. Hence 'in Space no-one can hear you scream'."
"Or the tree falling." Adds Adriana. Would the tree even fall in Space?
"Sure, it would endlessly tumble…" Ferry Gouw, apparently a scientist par excellence. "'Space Tree Falling', that could be the title of our next album!"
If it proves anything, this fixation with Space and Science is the necessary counterbalance to their narrative and aesthetic whimsy. But enough with what Space sounds like. What's album no. 2 going to sound like?
"We've got sort of a skeleton going…" Chris glosses.
"Usually, the real nitty-gritty of things happens when we get together in the studio." Ferry clarifies. "At the moment, no-one's really sure what it's gonna be like. Chris?"
"Yep." He says with no little finality. "Don't know."
Album No. 1: Semifinalists – Semifinalists
There is so much conflict in this astonishingly accomplished debut. There are tensions of innocence, wide-eyed optimism and the crushing knowledge of life's affinities. There are numerous references to doomed relationships and to gleeful reconciliation. All of it, though, is polished off in about half an hour. Which is utterly confounding. Comparisons in the press to The Flaming Lips seem apt in both aesthetic and ideology, but Semifinalists have carved themselves a home from their own distnict shininess and sense of self/
Minute pop symphonies of massive technical complication are executed with brutal conviction and soothing strokes of the hand. The shocking clashes of the opening 'Origin Song' coupled directly with the pure pop wonder and uninhibited joy of 'Show The Way' makes for dichotomised listening in the most invigorating way possible. While it's not always easy to deal with this much change in the space of any one song, it certainly is always worth the effort.
The ghostly vocals of Chris Steele-Nicholson and Adriana Alba are wonderfully offset by Ferry Gouw's manic yelps for equality and desperate eruptions of spastic guitar, creating an aesthetic that is, at turns, tender and furious. With this much conflict in one record, it is easy to quarrel and call it unlistenable. But when the insistences of futility become almost too much to bear, Semifinalists recoil and regale, now intent on bringing something unbelievably positive out of the primordial sludge. With such a deep understanding of pop tactics and nature's power on the listener, there is nothing that Semifinalists can't describe in their work.
Go here instantly sirs!
And as a special treat, here's an excerpt from an interview PM did with the band in Camden earlier this summer. The whole thing can be read here (in a very poorly tabulated version... actually, this one isn't all that well laid-out either).
...
Strikingly, Semifinalists can be noted for their extreme organic considerations. Musically, of course, that remains true – their twinkling pint-sized symphonies for spacemen are fixated with life's terrifying affinities - but in person, a love of nature, despite its many brutalities, is startlingly present. Ferry Gouw even sports a fetching pink sweatshirt with swimming polar bears on it, apparently purchased in Central Park Zoo. "The zoos and aquariums in New York are like fashion central. For me, anyway."
As we sit in the barbeque-fragranced garden of Camden's Lock Tavern, it is made thoroughly clear that this troop of art-school upward-facers hold many things dear to them. It is not a case of where they are in relation to others; it is where they are in relation to themselves. Semifinalists revel in their outsider status, but also happily weave in and out of scenes and rosters, gig bills and festival circuits, like children who haven't decided on Daddy or Chips. And only full dedication is acceptable.
On their website, Semifinalists describe themselves as 'Punk as Shit'. It is a tag they seem outwardly conflicted with - Ferry admits that it is "one of the very few mistakes." But what does Punk mean to them? Gouw is mixed. "Well, it's good in a way. For a while it seemed easy to define, to claim. But now the validity of it seems… taken apart and pushed to the front. I don't know if it's even valid or valuable any more."
Chris Steele-Nicholson, Semifinalists' multi-tasking drummer, singer and laptop manipulator, is optimistic. "The context of Punk keeps changing. Back in the fifties, a punk was someone who just went against something that was status quo in any way he could muster it up. But the contemporary version of Punk, as I understand it, is something you instigate by yourself. Not necessarily a reaction to anything else. And I think that’s the Punk flag we're waving. We're pro-active. We're… constructionist-Punk."
Nowhere is this more evident than the music itself. Whether it is Ferry Gouw's manic yelping of "Sustaining life!" in 'Origin Song', or the resolute positivism of the unsinkable 'Show The Way' single (both from their V2-released self-titled debut), their damn-near-unbeatable lust for life is the one constant in their sound. As far as this translates to notions of Punk, it is complex.
Adriana Alba, Semifinalists' softly-spoken singer and keyboard-fiddler, is more incisive. "When we started, there were a lot of bands that were doing things out of irony and in a way I think we did react against that. We were trying to be genuine with our intentions, as well as musically, to who we were. I think that’s where that Punk mentality came from."
"I think internal Punk is important to a band," says Chris. "you have to be revolting against whatever just happened, in a way, and we're gonna stay Punk. It's Punk karma, if you will…"
"We're anti-violence in a big way." Adriana prompts an obvious question. So Semifinalists are straight-edge punk? The groans that follow the mere suggestion say more than a verbal explanation could.
Chris has a lighter definition. "We can't claim any moral high ground… we're meandering towards goodness."
In the past, Semifinalists have cast their eyes collectively upwards. It seems that only the terminal abyss of the big black could hold them. Recording in Space, then? "We're still working on that…" says Adriana.
Did you know that ZZ-Top have already booked their place as the first band in Space, though?
"No way! That's awesome." Chris is genuinely enthused. "That makes sense, they got that record cover with the space-shuttle car… that was a forecast thing."
Ferry gets scientific. "Here's the thing. It takes place in the future when technology would be advanced enough so that sound can move like light. You need technology that will change sound into radiation. How that affects the music itself would be something to explore. There's no medium for the sound to travel on. Sound can't travel through Space because there's no air. Hence 'in Space no-one can hear you scream'."
"Or the tree falling." Adds Adriana. Would the tree even fall in Space?
"Sure, it would endlessly tumble…" Ferry Gouw, apparently a scientist par excellence. "'Space Tree Falling', that could be the title of our next album!"
If it proves anything, this fixation with Space and Science is the necessary counterbalance to their narrative and aesthetic whimsy. But enough with what Space sounds like. What's album no. 2 going to sound like?
"We've got sort of a skeleton going…" Chris glosses.
"Usually, the real nitty-gritty of things happens when we get together in the studio." Ferry clarifies. "At the moment, no-one's really sure what it's gonna be like. Chris?"
"Yep." He says with no little finality. "Don't know."
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