Chris Colonna is an Australian musician and mastermind behind The Bumblebeez, an eclectic project including—but certainly not limited to—sounds from rock, hip hop and electronica. He spent about eight months in Brooklyn on an arts scholarship several years ago before moving back to Australia, where he’s been making beats ever since. We caught up with him before he was set DJ alongside the legendary Grandmaster Flash and the Midnight Juggernauts at New York’s Le Poisson Rouge.

EM: How does it feel to be back in New York? You lived here for a while, right?
CC: Yeah, it’s good. Sorta good to come back to where it all started, you know what I mean?

EM: Yeah. So, if you could have anyone remix your songs, dead or alive, who would it be?
CC: Um…probably like, I dunno, Jimi Hendrix. Or I’d do a cover of one of his songs.

EM: Why Jimi Hendrix?
CC: Just because it’d be good, I dunno, he’d just do some crazy shit to it, I reckon.

EM: And if you could remix anyone, who would it be?
CC: Um…who would I like to remix…The Beatles, I guess.

EM: Any specific song you’d want to do?
CC: Um…the ”I Am a Walrus” song.

EM: Any ideas of what you would do to it?
CC: I’m not sure. I’ve never really thought about it! But, I dunno, just have fun with the drums.

EM: So what instruments did you grow up playing and how did that influence the music you make now?
CC: Well, I started with the drums and I was just like in the school marching band, because you have to do a march every year and when you got to the top of the street, you’d get an ice cream. So it was more of the ice cream that sort of influenced the drums. But then, I dunno, I guess, I dunno, I just love drums and rhythm, so I guess all my songs are quite sort of rhythm and drum-based, if you know what I mean.

EM: Which marching band drum did you play?
CC: Just the snare drum.

EM: What’s the inspiration behind the music you make? Do you think being from Australia influences that a lot?
CC: Um…yeah, I definitely think, like, our freedom influences us. Just, I dunno, we’ve really got no rules, so it’s just sort of whatever we want to make, we make. We’re definitely not speaking to a genre or this or that. We just sort of…yeah, whatever comes out comes out.

EM: Do you think it’s a different approach in the States?
CC: Um…yeah, I do. I dunno, I think your habitat definitely influences the music you make.

EM: I also read that you’re influenced by Basquiat. What about his work impacts you?
CC: I think all of it. Just the spontaneity of it, the rawness. I don’t know, his marks – just feels real. I don’t know, it’s just sort of quick.

EM: Are there any other musicians you’re influenced by currently?
CC: I’m influenced by a lot of stuff, I guess, like a lot of older music. Pop music, I’ve always been heavily influenced by. Sort of everything really, there’s pieces in everything that can sound good.

EM: What kind of older stuff are you into?
CC: At the moment, I’m really sort of listening to, like, I dunno, like Sun Ra and earlier stuff like that. A lot of old sort of funk, what else…there’s so much music out there, it’s just endless.

EM: What else do you listen to on your own time?
CC: I listen mostly to a lot of my own stuff, because I sort of make a lot of music that by the time I get bored of it, I’ve got all the music that I can listen to. But also I like to listen to nothing sometimes. I think when you make so much music, it’s nice for your ears just to listen to, I don’t know, just natural sounds or sounds that you can’t stop. Just anywhere, really. Sometimes I like just sort of silence.

***
Check out the Bumblebeez website for a few upcoming U.S. dates:  http://www.myspace.com/thebumblebeez

EM: If you could have anyone remix one of your songs, who would it be?
KM: We’ve had some pretty good luck so far with the remix guys that we’ve chosen. We pretty much get whoever we pick, except we’ve been trying to get Maurice Fulton. We’ve asked three or four times. I would for him to say to yes once.

EM: How do you approach your remixes? Do you try to transform the song into something new or do you try to refine what’s already there?
KM: We’ve stopped doing remixes for other people—if we spend time doing music, we’d rather be doing our own stuff. When we did do remixes the plan was to grab the vocal or the acapella and build a brand new track underneath it. It’s not even remixes—it’s kind of covering the song, in a way, or writing a completely new bed for the vocal.

EM: What about remixes of your own songs—what makes a good one?
KM: It depends on the song, but generally we try to get a couple of different people to do different vibes. That’s the main thing for a remix, is to get DJs to play it. Because a DJ will generally not play an original—they always want to play a remix. It’s good to balance it out. We’ll try to get someone who’s got, like, a big club sound, something that’s kind of deeper and more spaced out, something you could imagine a mainstream DJ playing. Then smaller club remixes, which you could imagine more cooler DJs would play. More chin-stroke-y, sort of. Then you have sort of more clever—not necessarily dance—more artsy remixes or whatever. Get all those things kicked off in a 12-inch. It’s a pretty good package.

EM: How would you say the music you make as K.I.M. is different from the music you make as The Presets?
KM: Well, it’s very different. It obviously doesn’t have half the input from Julian [Hamilton] that it has as The Presets. It’s pop music in The Presets, so it’s geared towards that kind of goal—traditional song structures, choruses, a little bit of vocals. I guess the stuff that I do by myself is kind of like sketches, or like experiments that become fulfilled ideas. And it’s generally geared towards the dance floor. There’s no particular one sound that I’m going for. I’m trying to experiment with production styles, and musical and creative ideas that I have. Yeah, it’s quite different…I’m not following any rules when I do my own stuff. It’s really like absolute vomit.

EM: Did you just call your music vomit?
KM: Yeah, absolute vomit. Like the perfect spew.

EM: Haha, okay. How did you learn to play the drums?
KM: Well, when I was growing up, my mom was a crazy, crazy Pentacostal Christian and she would take us to one of those fucked up Christian church places, where they speak in tongues and fall on the ground. There was a rock band there and different players would teach different instruments. My sister decided to learn the drums. She’s six years older than me. I said I wanted to learn the drums too. We went to two classes and she stopped going. I found a teacher and I learned and learned and learned. I’ve been never played drums in a band until The Presets, actually. Like, I switched over to classical percussion and vibraphone and stuff like that. That’s what I learned when I went to high school and university.

EM: So a bunch of Australian bands are huge right now, like The Presets, Cut Copy and Midnight Juggernauts. Do you think there’s such a thing as an “Australian sound”?
KM: Not really. If you asked the other guys—who are all really dear friends of ours and we’re really big fans of—they’d probably say the same thing. They come from Melbourne and we come from Sydney. I guess we’re similar in the kind of clubbiness of all of these three bands, but musically it’s pretty different. And, yeah, it’s weird, for us guys in it…if you take away two bands in those three then you don’t have an Australian sound. I guess it’s just like one of those weird timing things. The more I talk and think about it, actually, The Avalanches—they had a big record about 10 years ago—I think they really had an impact on bands like The Presets and Cut Copy and Midnight Juggernauts. They are an amazing band that came out of nowhere in the time of, like, DJ Shadow and great sample music and pop music or whatever….It’s just like far out and great, and we kind of look at them as the real torch-bearers of what we do. It’s not really even similar music, but it is in a way because it’s kind of like pop music gone wrong, but done right.

EM: What are the top three songs that get you dancing right now?
KM: 1. Guy Gerber and Chaim—It’s kind of really spaced-out techno chants, which I really love.
2. A remix of one of our songs, “Talk Like That,” by Optimo Espacio, that will be out soon.
3. “What What (In The Butt)” by Samwell—It’s pretty gay.

The Presets and Cut Copy
Joint Headline Tour Dates 2008

SAT 9/13 - Monolith Festival - Denver, CO
MON 9/15 – The Record Bar - Kansas City, MO
TUES 9/16 - Fine Line Music Cafe- Minneaplis, MN
WED 9/17 - Metro - Chicago, IL
FRI 9/19 Sound Academy - Toronto, Ontario
SAT 9/20 - Club Soda - Montreal, Quebec
SUN 9/21 - Webster Hall - New York City, NY
MON 9/22 - Webster Hall - New York City, NY
TUE 9/23 - Paradise - Boston, MA
THURS 9/25 – The Trocadero Theater - Philadelphia, PA
FRI 9/26 9:30 Club - Washington D.C.
SAT 9/27 Masquerade - Atlanta, GA
MON 9/29 - Emo’s Alternative Lounge - Austin, TX
TUES 9/30 - Granada Theater - Dallas, TX
FRI 10/3 – The Glass House - Pomona, CA
SUN 10/5 - Mezzanine - San Francisco, CA
TUES 10/7 - Hawthorne Theater - Portland, OR
WED 10/8 - Showbox At The Market - Seattle, WA
THURS 10/9 - Commodore Ballroom - Vancouver, B.C.

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www.myspace.com/kimberleyisaacmoyes

www.myspace.com/thepresets

Voyager showcases Walter Meego’s impressive songcraft. The album is full of pop melodies fleshed out by animated synth basslines, smooth guitar, tender keyboard, and—of course—a collection of well-placed synth effects. The album’s unique strength is its sonic diversity: quivering laser sounds shoot throughout “Letting Go,” “Keyhole” includes an extended metal guitar solo, and “Baby Please” ends on a folky piano outro. There are pop beats, rock beats and house beats. Disjointed as it sounds, Voyager is anything but. This is due in part to the high quality of individual songs—each of which takes on a unique, solid musical identity—and also to Sconza’s distinctive voice, which is featured prominently in each track and has been fairly compared to John Lennon’s. And it almost goes without saying that influences from French electro titans like Daft Punk and the Ed Banger gang are clearly evident.

Refreshingly, the songs on Voyager are not repetitive, a sometimes unfortunate quality in much electronic-influenced music. Walter Meego masters their musical arsenal, hanging them upon well-structured melodies with expert timing, which fuels song progression and sustains dynamism until every last beat.

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www.myspace.com/walter meego

Music Hall of Willamsburg, NY
Date: 6/4/08
***
“Hello Brooklyn, we’re The Presets,” says Julian Hamilton after the first song of their sold-out show at the Music Hall of Williamsburg in New York City.

Uh, yeah. We know. We’re only packed so tight we can smell our neighbor’s freshly applied American Crew. Eventually we may also feel the trickle of each other’s beers down the backs of our calves. However, the Sydney-based electro group, The Presets, are all about that full sensory experience. Their set started off with a solitary light illuminating Kim Moyes’ drum kit; the trigger of a single chord; then a feverish escalation of noise that culminates in a blinding burst of flashing lights. Within a minute, The Presets have transformed an ordinary music venue into a high-energy club, complete with pounding bass beats and a mass of gyrating bodies.

Hamilton and Moyes are only two people, creating monster noise. Their performance is distinctly theatrical, defined by a menacing, industrial sound, enhanced at key moments by a flood of hellish red stage light. Moyes’ vigorous drumming sutures together raw, heavy chords and riffs on the keyboard and synthesizers, as well as samples and backing tracks. Hamilton’s voice is modulated a handful of different ways to give each song its own character: amplifying delays, assailing stutter-effects, and other distortion settings to make him sound like some kind of synthesized baritone demon. With intensifying snare rolls and brightening sound modulations — making us feel like the noise is climbing inside our heads— they bring their songs to disorienting climax, creating such tension that our ears beg for release.

The Presets have no shortage of moments like these as they run through a number of their most popular songs, including “Down Down Down,” “Are You The One,” and “My People.” Towards the end of the set, as Hamilton sings over an explosive, intoxicating house beat and crunching bass — the room going black with every hit of the crash cymbal and the floor shaking with the dancing crowd — he clutches his microphone, raising it into the air like it’s flying away. It’s as if this noise is bigger than him, and even he can’t contain it.

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http://www.thepresets.com

Like any true rebel, The Jealous Girlfriends, whose 2008 self-titled album met favorable reception (even earning placement on a segment of Grey’s Anatomy—it’s worth mentioning), still plays like it’s got something to prove. Striking up a first chord, the band fills New York’s Mercury Lounge with energetic guitar-driven rock, full of cymbal crashes, strong hooks and frenetic leg shaking, which hardly lets up for more than a half dozen songs. Miranda’s unique gravelly voice, at once resolute and tender, cuts clear through all the noise—which is no easy feat against the combined sounds of her guitar, Abbott’s guitar, a keyboard, synths, bass, and drums. The Girlfriends play several of their most notable songs, like “Roboxulla,” “The Pink Wig to My Salieri” and “Organs on the Kitchen Floor,” remaining satisfyingly loyal to the album versions. They also mix in a couple of new tunes, including one upbeat number featuring a growling Abbott on lead vocals, backed by a punchy snare beat that sets the mood for dancing.

There is a particularly memorable moment in the performance, during another of the band’s new songs (“It’s about NAFTA,” Miranda says, and that’s not a joke): as drummer Mike Fadem plays a steady tom-filled solo, with Miranda’s pleading voice running through it, the crowd’s screaming builds, until they’re answered back with an explosion of wailing guitars. Rabble-rousing as they may appear to be, The Jealous Girlfriends want you to like them back. The song ends on a beat. About five seconds of silence until someone yells, “ONEMOREFUCKYEAH!” Of course, they oblige.

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http://www.myspace.com/thejealousgirlfriends

at the Brooklyn Masonic Temple. “It sounds like a pep rally in here,” she says. “I hope we win the game tonight.”

Nguyen, dressed simply in a black tunic and leggings with cowboy boots, is soft-spoken and almost disarmingly unassuming up on stage. But once she starts playing, it’s as if she’s possessed by a demon: bent over her guitar, she tosses her head wildly in rhythm, her layered hair flying. Her particular mix of indie and folk with a hint of country gently electrifies the crowd.

On stage with her are a bassist and a drummer—who call themselves “The Get Down Stay Down”—delivering a light, bare-bones sound. The songs are kept simple, her uniquely lilting voice accompanied by intermittent handclaps. Much of the variation comes from drummer Willis Thompson, who alternates among drumsticks, mallets, brushes, and maracas, creating a percussion section that tends to play off the guitar, instead of just behind it. Striking up “Bag of Hammers,” a catchy song off debut album “We Brave Bee Stings and All,” Nguyen plays with fierce abandon, seeming oblivious to the fact that, due to a loose screw, the pick guard on her guitar is falling off.

The crowd clearly appreciates her effort, clapping in time and some singing along. A few songs into the set, though, they all start to sound pretty similar—but no one seems to mind. This audience is exceptionally supportive, cheering and applauding encouragingly. Perhaps this is why Nguyen likens the atmosphere to a pep rally. It later becomes obvious where this energy comes from.

Because later I’m From Barcelona takes the stage. Confetti rains down in blinding abundance. In a flash, fourteen people are up there with a bevy of instruments, which include (but aren’t limited to): an electric guitar, an acoustic guitar, drums, a saxophone, a keyboard, a synthesizer, maracas, and an egg shaker or two. Bright fake sunflowers adorn the mics, two female singers wear matching pink tights, frontman Emanuel Lundgren dons a red bowtie, several giant pink balloons bob up and down in the crowd. One band member is in a black cape, and it appears that his duty is sometimes to sing background vocals, sometimes to dance, and sometimes to bat the balloons from the stage back to the crowd.

So what does this all sound like? A lot like an episode of Wee-Sing, the children’s sing-along show, really — except that those characters never pretended to choke each other on stage. I’m From Barcelona puts on one of the most hyper, happy pop shows around. The instruments and many voices crash together in upbeat, melodic chaos. When they play their single “Britney,” everyone in the crowd gleefully jumps up and down, singing along to the song’s staccato “ba-ba-bas.” This is what they came for: to dance unselfconsciously, to mash their bodies against each other, to go crazy. It really is like watching people cheer a sports team and wondering where all this pep and unbridled enthusiasm comes from. For those who didn’t already know what they were in for, the whole thing can be a bit obnoxious. But this isn’t the kind of music you overanalyze. You’re just supposed to go along with it. At the end, the band members give everyone a chance to do just that: one by one, they jump down from the stage to form a conga line that snakes through the roaring crowd. It’s a party, and very few resist.

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http://www.thaomusic.com/
http://www.imfrombarcelona.com/

It’s not clear exactly what he means by this. But for us, it’s a reminder of Froberg’s esteemed pedigree—he’s emerging from Sweden’s indie folk music scene, which has given us artists like José González and Peter Morén (from Peter, Bjorn & John), with whom he’s touring. This is the first night of their U.S. dates, kicking off at the Mercury Lounge in New York City. We might take his words as assurance that he’ll deliver us more of that sweet acoustic folk rock.

If that’s the case, then Froberg, who just released his third album titled “Turn Heads,” makes good on the promise. He opens with “On God’s Highway,” a gentle ballad off his second album, accompanied only by some delicate fingerwork on the guitar. He has that kind of hushed voice that on albums comes across as sweet and tender, and demands meditative listening, but which might easily get lost in a live show among the chatter of a gathering audience or imperfect sound mixing. That doesn’t happen. Tonight, Froberg’s voice sounds more robust live than recorded, anchoring down melodies as he adds backing tracks of drums and strings. Fumbling at first with a programmed backbeat, he launches into “You Are,” a dreamy, contemplative number from “Turn Heads.”

Soon, Froberg jumps to the keyboard, and is joined by a drummer and Morén on bass. It feels like a low-key practice session, in a good way. They’re not so rehearsed that the short performance sounds mechanical or dull. Instead, it feels more improvised, the simple instrumentation locking together in a way that’s delivered best by performers of a similar musical stripe—in this case, a heartwarming acoustic sound. These guys get each other. And they’re having fun. A big part of what makes Froberg’s show enjoyable is his easygoing nature, evidenced also by the charming asides he uses to introduce songs. (An example, on “Somewhere in the City:” “It’s very deep. It’s about going out and finding someone—and having sex.”)

Twice between songs, Froberg raises his arms and bows slightly. “Thank you, America,” he says, feigning stoicism. Though he’s still a bit rough around the edges, we trust that he’ll stick around to share more of his charm and tender sensibility. It seems like he has more than enough to spare. He’s from Sweden, after all.

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http://www.tobiasfroberg.com/website/