Kane Strang / Chastity Belt – Tickets – Mississippi Studios – Portland, OR – March 24th, 2017

Kane Strang / Chastity Belt

An evening of inventive indie pop from Dunedin, New Zealand and Walla Walla, Washington

Kane Strang / Chastity Belt

Floating Room

Fri, March 24, 2017

Doors: 8:00 pm / Show: 9:00 pm

$10 ADV / $12 DOS

This event is 21 and over

Mostly Standing / Limited Balcony Seats 

Kane Strang
Kane Strang
Kane Strang's debut album, Blue Cheese, picks up on the rough disaffection of his earlier demo collection, A Pebble And A Paper Crane, which he recorded in a WWII bomb shelter in Germany. Now back in his hometown of Dunedin, New Zealand, Kane spent two curious months alone, housesitting for his parents. Relocated, yet still isolated, Kane composed all of Blue Cheese over those quiet days. Lead-off track "The Web" channels pummeling bass lines punctuated by a twinkling synth that calls upon microscopic pop principalities of restlessness ("Yeah, I met someone else/ Without leaving my little house/ No, I haven't held her yet/ I met her on the internet"). Its abrupt ending parallels Strang's own disconnect. "She's Appealing" weaves day-glo guitar motifs into distant, detached '80s garage pop vocals. "Never Kissed A Blonde" is driven by a slapping delay on both vocals and guitar. Kane never doesn't surprise with his path towards a melody, nor does he miss a hit-on-the-head-obvious-in-retrospect memorable line.
Chastity Belt
Chastity Belt
Chastity Belt is a rock band consisting of four friends - guitarists Julia Shapiro and Lydia Lund, bassist Annie Truscott, and drummer Gretchen Grimm. They met in a tiny college town in Eastern Washington, but their story begins for real in Seattle, that celebrated home of Macklemore and the Twelfth Man. Following a post-grad summer apart, a handful of shows and enthusiastic responses from the city's DIY community led them, as it has countless others, into a cramped practice space. They emerged with a debut album, No Regerts, sold it out faster than anyone involved thought possible, and toured America, a country that embraced them with open-ish arms. Now they're back and the tab is settled, the lights are out, the birds are making noise even though the sun isn't really up yet: it's Time to Go Home, their second long-player and first for Hardly Art.

In the outside world, they realized something crucial: they didn't have to play party songs now that their audience didn't consist exclusively of inebriated 18-22 year olds, as it did in that college town. Though still built on a foundation of post-post-punk energy, jagged rhythms, and instrumental moves that couldn't be anyone else's, the songs they grew into in the months that followed are equal parts street-level takedown and gray-skied melancholy. They embody the sensation of being caught in the center of a moment while floating directly above it; Shapiro's world spins around her on "On The Floor," grounded by Grimm and Truscott's most commanding playing committed to tape. They pay tribute to writer Sheila Heti on "Drone" and John Carpenter with "The Thing," and deliver a parallel-universe stoner anthem influenced by Electrelane with "Joke."

Recorded by José Díaz Rohena at the Unknown, a deconsecrated church and former sail factory in Anacortes, and mixed with a cathedral's worth of reverb by Matthew Simms (guitarist for legendary British post-punks and one-time tourmates Wire), Time to Go Home sees Chastity Belt take the nights out and bad parties of their past to their stretching points, watch the world around them break apart in anticipatory haze, and rebuild it in their own image with stunning clarity before anyone gets hungover.
Floating Room
Floating Room
"The type of sadness felt at 4 in the morning, reserved for the heartbroken and nervous, is a tender and surreal one. The world feels like the wrong size; the moment small, quiet and solitary, the rest of the day foreboding at a gargantuan scale. It’s a moment of contingency and introspection, and it’s soundtracked by Floating Room’s new album Sunless.
The record tracks the end of one relationship and the beginning of another, with lyrics and a sound that comprehend every aspect of this delicate time. Maya Stoner and Kyle Bates, Floating Room’s creators, are able to channel a heightened level of intimacy and emotional competency with their combined musical history and shared personal connections. “Kyle and I were discussing writing and recording at a house show when the idea of collaborating first game up. I had a lot of love and respect for Kyle’s project, Drowse, so I was excited to see how his brain worked,” recants Stoner. The melancholy, textured aspects of Bates’ aforementioned project meld well with Stoner’s past experimental guitar rock bands, Sabonis and Forest Park. They meet in a place of sensitivity and experimentation. With the assistance of bass player and frequent collaborator Alec Van Staveren, Floating Room has classic emotive aspects that also include electronic influences and dark beats and bass lines that work to transcend the usual bedroom tape project. With a name referencing the gloomy weather of the band’s Pacific Northwest home, the album is evocative of overcast despondency–but refuses to wallow.

“We started playing music together when we started dating, writing these short, confessional songs and capturing them with our cell phones; we quickly discovered a mutual love for artists like Mirah, The Microphones, Duster, and Bedhead.” Bates and Stoners’ gendered voices, musical compatibility and parallel perspectives of growth are audible. Stoner’s lyrics appeal to relatable feelings whilst staying specific enough to tell her story, with Bates sonically interjecting his own. Finding lyrical inspiration in conversations had with her female friends, Stoner uses unabashed dejection and candidness to create a new form of emotionally charged and empowered music, self-described as “gray pop.” On the crushing track “Fun,” Stoner proclaims her strength by using past insecurities and hesitations to detail the feeling of being silenced by oppressive systems and individuals, but finding resilience within those experiences. Stoner’s vocal power backed by buoyant guitars makes for a song set to inspire.

The intimate confines of the bedroom in which Stoner and Bates record and create together are heard in the warmth and indulgence of each song, bookmarked by personal clips of the two exchanging questions or the whimpering of a dog. But, with each track their cozy realm grows.Sunless is the sound of sharing fears, and becoming stronger as a result.

– Emma Burke"