A couple of weeks ago, while at the official presentation of Optimus Primavera Sound 2014’s full lineup at the Porto city hall, I was surprised to see a lot of people cheering uncontrollably whenever a band they liked appeared on the big screen. Seriously, when “The National” appeared printed on the jacket of one of the characters on the (great) short video that announced the festival’s lineup, I thought FC Porto had scored or something. Shouts of similar magnitude could be heard when Mogwai, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Kendrick Lamar or Haim were announced, but a lot of names went unnoticed and are naturally confined to the last few lines of the lineup poster.
Author: bolachas
Tour Nado

Starting next week, our beloved friends at Coronado will be going around Europe for a nice end-of-summer vacation. Well, not all of them, only the ones that matter, meaning math rock juggernauts Equations and post-rock-in-2013 stalwarts SAUR. And because SAUR live near me, I spoke to them about what Europe can expect from them. Which is not much. I’m kidding: if you live anywhere near these places, go check them out so you can tell your hipster friends yeah, currently I’m checking out the portuguese scene, Awesome Tapes From Africa got too mainstream.
Now that we’re slowly spiraling into the cold season again, do you remember how life seemed so amazing three months ago? Temperatures rising, holidays creeping up on the horizon, heavy drinking sessions with friends (except for poor ol’ me, dealing with antibiotics at the time) and Optimus Primavera Sound for those lucky enough to be there. We catched your happiness on film (with a smartphone, but still) so you could go back in time whenever you want.
Pop is the opposite of pop
Let us, for a moment, forget that the Swans are, in noise rock territories, a huge spectre hanging around everyone’s heads when we think about aggression, when we think about power, when we think about rawness, violence, bloodlust – all those wonderful qualities that lie around in our minds, hidden from society -; let us forget the new-yorkers practically invented and perfected the genre, even if there are plenty of wonderful bands who took their palette and turned it into something equally valid; if we erase Michael Gira’s antics since 1984, we’d come to realize Pop. 1280 is probably the most ferocious band in activity right now, something we realized last year when their debut album, The Horror, came out, blasting layers of noise and punk energy and great fucking tunes all around. Imps Of Perversion, although toning down that aggression for a bit – there’s no immediate and murder-prone tracks like “Bodies In The Dunes”, for instance, and there’s a more folky side to it (especially “Riding Shotgun”) -, still stands as one of the most rage-filled albums we’ll hear this year, the year rock is mostly dead and pop cuteness hangs around like annoying eye floaters. Where’s the music for people who hate other people? Where’s my knife in the shape of a 3-minute song? (It’s actually seven minutes, and it’s called “Nailhouse”.) Pop. 1280 came, saw, conquered that magic place we call “the riff”, made another album that’ll spike up our adrenaline levels and propels us to believe Sacred Bones will save the world. Or destroy it. Either way, it works.
PAC