The Tiger Lillies – Living Hell (Director – Mark Holthusen)
soon to be released album Rime of the Ancient Mariner.
The Tiger Lillies- Living Hell from Mark Holthusen
The only things real in the entire video are (1) the 12×12 plank floor; (2) anything attached to it (posts,lights); (3) a couple of props, (4) the people, and (5) the lighting. It was shot entirely against green screen over three days in a warehouse in San Carlos, CA on a RED ONE camera.
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La patère rose – Duet Tacet (dir. Olivier Picard, David Pierrat)
Great balls of snow.
vimeo.com
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Tim and Fay – Come Into My Parlour (dir. Moog)
Available as a theatre show, cabaret, individual walkabout characters and static acts.
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PHOTOS: We Celebrate 35 Years Of Fergie Fashion
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PHOTOS: Jay-Z In A Los Angeles State Of Mind
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Cyrus, Swift up for Kids’ Choice Awards (AP)
AP – Apolo Anton Ohno is going for the green at the Kids’ Choice Awards.
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Strange Powers: The xx at Big Ears Fest
I can't recall a more unexpected reaction to a performance than the one that I witnessed Friday night at the Bijou Theatre in Knoxville, Tenn., around midnight on the first night of this classy college town's annual Big Ears Festival. Crowds can be diffident when artists give their all, or can prop up favorites as they barely deliver. But this show was a fascinating case of desire stimulated by seeming diffidence — the crowd as young besotted lover driven ever more hungry by her crush ignoring her .
The band was the xx, the young London-based trio (formerly a quartet) whose 2009 debut was bear-hugged by critics (Andrew Gaerig, writing on the taste-making website Pitchfork.com, declared it "so fully formed and thoughtful that it feels like three or four lesser, noisier records should have preceded it) and taken up by the usual set of programmers for television commercials and nighttime soaps. Guitarist-singer Romy Madley-Croft, bassist-singer Oliver Sim, and knob-twiddler Jamie Smith, barely out of their teen years, have been hailed as prodigies for making forcefully slow, cold music about what usually gets adolescents hot — sexual desire, its thwarting and (occasional, possible) fulfillment.
The xx borrows indirectly from contemporary black pop auteurs like Timbaland and The-Dream, and more clearly from its native synth-pop tradition, to create a sound that is not so much inviting or engaging as difficult to turn away from once you've noticed it. Songs like "Islands" and "Basic Space," with their artless lyrics, plain vocals and somnolent guitar lines and beats, seem so private that listening can feel like an invasion.
At the Bijou, an ornate 100-year-old theater that was packed with PBR-swilling festivalgoers and many audience members who seemed nothing like the early pop adapters Big Ears is programmed to attract, the xx took the stage with a hidden flourish and performed with exaggerated constraint. First appearing behind a scrim that invoked the New Romantics groups their parents probably loved, and which dropped without landing on anyone, the three musicians followed the tried-and-true formula of English synth-pop: big gestures, coy emotions.
Smith fiddled scientifically with his deck; Sim swayed and struck poses with a mimelike fierceness while Madley-Croft murmured and pulled out the band's most potent communication tool: crystalline guitar lines that had more than one oldster in the crowd wishing the group would cover some Chris Isaak tunes.
