I can vividly remember the night I met Brook Pridemore. It was many years ago in a shitty Brooklyn dive bar that’s now a shitty nightclub. Their stage banter was awkward and authentic. Brook shared their experiences regarding death, depression, and self-harm, with a seemingly singular focus simply to make sure no one in the room felt odd or alone. They played a song called “Guitar Bomb,” of which I’d later go on to pay lyrical homage in my band. Brook closed the set as they always do with “Thank you my name is Brook Pridemore from Brooklyn, NY”
But Pridemore, the Detroit native musician, is so much more. Internationally known, recognized across the US, and a pillar of NYC’s anti-folk movement, over the years I’d go on to hang out with Brook in countless basements and DIY spaces, stand on street corners and rooftops. We’ve played the same stages in numerous local venues, and we’ve shared meals and couches on tour. I’ve come to feel connected to them on a number of levels. Some obvious and some less so. Some we talk about and some we don’t need to.
But what’s far more interesting than any of my individual memories of Pridemore, is how their music impacts my collective experiences as a complex human being traversing this planet. Brook Pridemore the musician seems to be an endless mystery, a series of fascinating anecdotes sieved through different phases and prisms of perspective. Yet the human never wanders too far from completely relatable beyond expectation.
I’ve seen them acoustic and wired, solo and with a full band, but the one constant you will always get is a raw no-punches honesty quite unlike anything else you’ll come across in the Brooklyn music scene, and their new release, Glad to Be Alive, is no different.
Almost Dylan-esque in its storytelling but with a Mountain Goats delivery, Pridemore’s use of imagery and rhyme (and sometimes lack thereof) is truly and uniquely their own. There’s a calm sadness that permeates throughout the record with lyrics such as “Sometimes I wanna leave the living, and I take a ride out to the beach. Wet sand could not be more forgiving. My problem not more out of reach,” from “Leave the Living”
There’s a wisdom to their words and and tenderness in their candor. Fans of Jets to Brazil’s Perfecting Loneliness era will appreciate the simple and delicate composition of hyper-specific detailed experiences that the same time somehow feel universal to the human condition. It’s romantic and beautiful and painful: “They’re lying if they tell you it’s a short life you’re living. It’s the longest thing that you’ll do… But the water wouldn’t take you away. It’s like you were determined to stay,” from “Charlie Watts”
Brook Pridemore
Pridemore worked extremely closely with Ben Hozie (of BODEGA) on this project to get those rich textures with extremely stripped down instrumentation. Most of the record at its core is Brook’s signature acoustic guitar hugging the vocal. But the 15 track LP is dotted with blankets of fuzz, varied bass and percussion, and a lot of different elements on keys that completely define the tone of many of the songs.
They explained to Bands do BK that “Glad to be Alive was written in the (literal) dark and Ben Hozie and I brought it into the (figurative) light. The songs poured out of me at 3am (or later), like letting blood. Ben took the skeletal demos and transformed them into big pop songs. What was depressing/depressed became anthemic. If sad songs are nature’s onions, pop songs are nature’s caffeine pill. Most important to me, though, was the DIY aspect of Glad to be Alive. This is almost entirely Ben and I, working together in his bedroom on a simple interface. Making this record proved to me I can make a record at home, with just a couple of mics and a lot of ideas. The future of music is in our hands, and the future is now!”
It’s really hard to review this record by breaking it into its individual songs, it’s best listened to a collective whole.Not only are there A LOT of songs, but the LP unfolds like an autobiographical anthology of tales that tell a larger story of the artist. But even from the start, the title track sets the tone, laying out the verses to criss cross thin timelines between being dead and being alive. Sometimes the darkness is palpable, whether it’s in the haunting noises and jarring strings of “No Music” or through the prose itself of “The Man Who Tried to Kill Me.” Other times there’s a somber optimism and light of acceptance just short of regret: “I remember crashing east and west across your yard. The thing about Midwestern kids is that we make the most of it, and no one else goes even half as hard” from “Learned to Play the Drums”
To say Brook Pridemore is an interesting character is an understatement and a disservice. Over the years I have definitely found myself with more questions than I have answers. And they are the kind of person who would just tell you if you only asked. But even then, it’d still probably open up more questions for me. The longer I know them and the more I learn and more the I listen to their story through conversation and their music, the more I want to connect, and and the more I feel that connection straight into the center of my soul.
Ever since that first night in that dark bar back in 2015, when I locked eyes with that odd fellow and we inadvertently became little pieces of each other’s strange stories, I can honestly say I am richer for having known them. Existence is strange that way. Sometimes we can play a small role in something that has a much more far-reaching impact in ways we don’t even consciously consider. At least one version of Brook Pridemore is glad to be alive, and I can honestly say I’m glad they are too.
Glad To Be Alive was self released and is available on Bandcamp and all major streaming platforms.
Cue drumroll! Snapping right out of the gate with the big pianos hooks, Sean Spada is pounding the keys with a shiny new record, The Wild Ride, out this week, and we here at Full Time Aesthetic have your exclusive first listen.
Bigger vocals, spacey synths, and his full backing band, the Doppelgängers, accompany Spada’s classic keys this time around, as he warbles his way through troubled times navigating a world filled with anxiety and peril. The Brooklyn piano man takes a deep dive into the darker corners of the mind exploring the psyche as he never quite has before. Maybe that’s why, sometimes subdued and loungy, sometimes big full band swing, throughout the The Wild Ride, Spada often teeters somewhere between Randy Newman and Huey Lewis.
Pop sensible beyond its lyrical wake, it’s apparent in the more structured places like “When You’re Crazy” and “Getting on the Highway.” Other times, the albums zags over into looser jam territories like on “Spacing Out” or the six and a half minute epic “Doppleganger Jungle” that really showcase the skill of the album’s players.
Not every track here is a “Radio Friendly Unit Shifter” nor does it need to be. Just like not every thought in our heads should be uttered aloud, Spada indeed takes us on a wild ride, navigating the spectrum of the human psyche, or one possible version therein. Sometimes things are clear cut and make sense, other times they don’t, and sometimes things get weird. It’s usually a little of both a whole lot of the other.
For students of the music and the mind, should they dare, the sheet music for the entire album will be available for purchase on both Spada’s Bandcamp and website. The record itself will be available for mass consumption across all streaming platforms this Friday Oct 7th. And Spada will be celebrating with a release show and performing it live with the full band of Doppelgängers along with Onesie and Pete Donnelly Combo next Tuesday Oct 11 at Pianos. Get tickets here and take a listen to the full album below:
Do you ever wonder what it feels like right after waking up from inside a cartoon, only to find you’re still lucid dreaming, eating a banana yogurt and wearing a top hat? Brooklyn’s most innovative psych-rock indie dream poppers, Color Tongue, are back with a new twist, having released a trilogy of singles (one each week leading up their recent performance on the Bands do BK book release festival at Our Wicked Lady). The quartet, made up of George Miata (guitar, vocals), Eddie Kuspiel (bass, synth, vocals), Ray McGale (synth, piano, vocals), and Kevin Urvalek (drums), is no stranger to the weird and trippy and are one of the tightest bands musically you’re likely to find in NYC.
Maybe it’s because Kuspiel and Miata have been writing music together since before they even had hair on their color tongues, or maybe because until recently they lived together in what’s been called a “busy apartment with twice as many paintings on the walls than windows,” or maybe it’s just because these longtime friends enjoy spending time with each other making sounds. Whatever the reason, they are a really good band. They can write a batch of great songs and know how to really perform them live.
Maybe that’s also why I’ve long considered Color Tongue one of the punkest bands in NYC. Over the last seven years or so since I met these guys, I’ve marveled at the way they’ve executed their unique sonic infusion. More Flaming Lips than Fugazi, more Animal Collective than Anti-Flag, if you dig into their discography, they paint beautiful soundscapes that evoke swashes of reverb-drenched colors that seep into the cracks of your mind responsible for cranking up your serotonin and dopamine levels.
But in the same breath I’ve seen them rip through a dingy DIY basement show set with a guitar growl onslaught and pummeling pace that’s kept up with some of this city’s fastest, loudest, and heaviest bands. The point is Color Tongue has always done things their way, they have fun doing it, and it shows.
So instead of dropping a classic EP, as they have in the past, this time around they decided to release a new single each week leading up to the big rooftop show.
First came “Good Science” which feels like a pleasant two and half minute jog warming up to what was to come. Urvalek skillfully holds back the drums for the entire song, allowing the synth and bass lines to swell, stretch and contract over the soft quick constant rhythm of the arpeggiated guitar. The song feels much like the morning after the rain storms have washed away all the dirt and grime, and everything feels fresh and everything seems possible. There’s comfort in Kuspiel’s vocal as Miata delivers the hook, “I’m not alone. Take me somewhere I know. It’d be nice to see anywhere. I’m not alone” and stretches out like taffy over gooey synthesizer.
Next, “Little Gray Cloud,” takes us back into “stormy weather.” Quicker and more ominous in tone, Kuspiel delivers the vocal inflection with slightly desperate urgency.
“I hope the the words that leave your mouth are good and they are well thought out. And you can sleep without losing a wink.” The real magic is the way they are able to break that tension and pull it back with periodic breaths of soothing melody. Devil’s chord be damned, this band knows how to stack layers of rhythmic harmony turning black licorice into sugar gumdrops. The dark sugar fuzz builds and piles on washy guitars with teeth until it crescendos in one of the most satisfying movements in the entire series.
The final single “Berries,” however, which dropped the day before the big show, plays like a preschool song for children except all the kids are on drugs. For almost four minutes we are lulled into the naptime trip allowing the bass and drums to shuffle us through easy lope of gentle tones. But, just before the four minute mark, Urvalek kicks the track up a few levels as McGale, Miata, and Kuspiel pile on top of the beat. It’s all hands on deck here, with the heavy lifting by McGale and Kuspiel’s musical bedrock for Miata to rip in with the wild guitar lead. Everything in that moment was designed to payout in triumph ending in satisfyingly haunting multi-tiered vocal harmony and goosebumps in true Color Tongue fashion. The band knows how to deliver on an idea and how to roll out a concept. So when they take the time to make some noise, it’s best to stop and pay attention.
“Berries” (collage art of dogs submitted by fans of the band)
Additional author’s note: for fans of the band’s beloved pooch, Thunder, Ray McGale has made a super cool “Berries Game” you can play thru Instagram filters that’s definitely NOT a bad way to waste your time while listening to the new Color Tongue songs which you can take a listen to below:
FTA is pleased to debut the next installment of the Sean Spada Doppleverse with the release of brand new single “Set Up to Self-Destruct,” which comes complete with a music video to accompany the tongue-in-cheek despairing nature of the track.
Directed by Nikki Belfiglio (of Bodega), the simple imagery of the video effectively captures the mood of one’s fated abject failure but still set on making the most of the hand that you’re dealt. The scene-for-one unfolds as a dapper Spada dons a cardboard party hat dodging darts and large looming green hands between bouts of casual juggling and blowing up balloons all by his lonesome. It’s unclear just how dire the situation may in fact be, but there is a real calming sincerity in the vocal delivery that makes you feel like even though you’re clearly fucked, everything is gonna be ok. Or maybe not, but what else can you do other than keep pushing forward?
The track itself expertly weaves in and out between piano-ballad and pop-rock, knowing just when to tuck in its tail and when to triumph. The struggle to keep pushing forward these days when you’re already stacked to lose is quite relatable, and Spada brings us these short moments of hope and positivity that often gets lost in the impossible situation of existing.
The track is part of Spada’s upcoming album, The Wild Ride, due out 10/7. Spada will play a release show the same day at Piano’s with support from Pete Donnelly Combo and Onesie. Tickets here. Watch the video below:
But however you know him, Sean Spada shuffles back into our hearts with a brand new teaser track “The Wild Ride,” the title track from his forthcoming album which he describes as a “melodic journey into the distracted mind,” and “a collection of eccentric, piano driven songs that examine life in an overwhelming, unreal reality”
Spada elaborated on his music saying it “evok[es] idiosyncratic songwriters such as Todd Rundgren and Harry Nilsson,” with songs that “weave in and out of loungey grooves and off-kilter solos, incorporating Dr. John piano licks and narrative lyrics inspired by Randy Newman.”
You’ll have to wait until October 7th to hear the whole record, but in the meantime, we are happy to announce the album and give you the first listen to the lead off single today. If you love slightly spooky lounge vibes, this track delivers. Spada softly croons about a crazy trip that stretches the imagination sprawled over his dynamic tickling of the ivories. If you’ve ever half woken from a dream that’s just escaped your fingertips and you’re stuck somewhere between two realities and can’t seem to find your way back to either, well then you may have just taken your first steps on “The Wild Ride.”
