Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson, based on name alone, may sound like a president on first offing, but give his eponymous, debut album a spin and you'll soon realize a more relevant career has presented itself for this 25-year-old Brooklyn bard. This is modern music made the old-fashioned way: take ragged, soulful and completely compelling hymns for tough times, throw into the mix an impressive array of backing musicians, and just record what happens. His sophomore album is Summer of Fear, out October 20th on Saddle Creek Records. New York has been sadly lacking a proper troubadour looking at the stars while mired in the gutter--but in Miles, we have our man.

What’s Been Said: “As dramatic and erratic as Robinson is, his songs never flirt with histrionics, nor do they hide his shameless, troubling relationships with sex and drugs and alcohol. His album is a mess of riffs and poetry you can get drunk on, in the bar or your bedroom.” — FADER

“The gripping, gorgeous Summer of Fear trades fractured gray folk for multihued and ambitiously arranged Americana. To hear the swooping strings on ‘Summer of Fear pt. 1′ or the stately horns parading across the 11-minute ‘Losing 4 Winners’ is to witness catharsis crafted with both passion and smarts.” — SPIN

“Much like Conor Oberst, Robinson may be surrounded by friends and their democratic noises, but his burdens are all his own. The bands and artists already mentioned help provide some of Robinson’s sonic signposts as well. The art-soul bleat of TVOTR is there, though MBAR steers more towards Dylan/Band loose-ended ramble than Bowie-styled museum pieces, putting him more in line with Oberst, Phosphorescent, and even the Arcade Fire.” — Pitchfork


Listen:
Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson - "The Sound"

Cymbals Eat Guitars are an indie rock band from Staten Island, New York, United States. They consist of Joseph Ferocious (vocals, guitar), Neil Berenholz (bass, vocals), Brian Hamilton (keyboards, vocals) and Matthew Miller (drums). They have released one album, “Why There Are Mountains”, which has received glowing reviews since its January 2009 release.

Aside from referencing a piece of Lou Reed’s philosophy about recording rock bands, the name “Cymbals Eat Guitars” is suggestive of a group of musicians infighting, vying for dominance over the sonic field— Reed and Cale on White Light/White Heat, organ vs. fuzz guitar. Well, we’d best put a halt to the Velvets nods so as not to mislead you… Cymbals Eat Guitars sound nothing like the Velvet Underground, and they have little interest in attempting to drown each other out. They draw little inspiration from the skuzzy, minimalist heroin-cooled din that group pioneered in the late 60’s. What do they sound like, then? One could sit around rattling off possible sources of influence for days—the highly unusual and infectious melodies could suggest an obsession with Pavement, the moments of hair-raising, goose bump-inducing, utterly anthemic sonic assault would seem to point towards Built To Spill or Sonic Youth… the streamlined pop of “Some Trees (Merritt Moon)” even suggests Wire circa Chairs Missing. The angular, atypical lead lines channel Isaac Brock on The Lonesome Crowded West. The eruptions of white-hot guitar force lightning scream Ira Kaplan. The tasteful ornamentation of keyboards calls to mind some of the work Leroy Bach and Jay Bennett did together on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Yet, somehow after repeated listening, these obvious points of comparison melt away along with your face, and you’re left with something singular, something inimitable. Cymbals Eat Guitars have, with their expressionist manifesto Why There Are Mountains, opened all the windows in the musty and disused attic of indie rock and roll relics.

Time trials began in earnest back in the tenth grade, when songwriter/guitarist Joseph Ferocious teamed up with drummer and classmate Matthew Miller to bang out some old Weezer songs for friends. Over the brief time span since they worked out demos that they would realize in a live setting throughout their sophomore year of college, after having scored off of Craigslist a brilliant gem of a musician in Daniel Baer, a 25-year-old keyboardist and Brooklynite. While gigging on the Lower East Side of Manhattan they would meet by chance engineer Kyle “Slick” Johnson, whom, after having taken in their set at the Annex in March of 2008 approached the band and expressed his interest in recording them. After a couple of months rehearsal time with new bassist Neil Berenholz, the group would convene for a three-day session at the famed Joe Music Studio on Sullivan St. on Manhattan. In the ensuing months the group would record overdubs at Monsterland Studios in Bushwick, with Slick providing technical expertise and a keen producer’s ear.

The opening six minutes that encapsulate “…And The Hazy Sea” breathe new life in to that loud/quiet/loud dynamic pioneered by Black Francis and company. The listener is first enveloped in an ocean of sound, out of which the primary instruments emerge for roll call— Ferocious’ Jazzmaster, Baer’s warm and crackling Wurlitzer electric piano, Berenholz liquid bass lines and Miller’s loose-limbed, dynamic drum kit. When the vocals finally enter, they are ragged but elastic, gamely hopping octaves and expressively shaping phrases. When D’Agostino screams doo-wop-style, it is as if he is plummeting from a 50,000 ft. promontory, and the band surges up from their earthy country-ish groove into sidereal reaches. After a grand galloping charge of a final chorus, the guitars open up into the eponymous hazy sea, and slowly the track fades into nightfall, with haunted scrawls of feedback and fragmented drums growing ever slower. Elsewhere the band implement weeping violins and cellos (“Cold Spring”) and Salvation Army horn sections (“Indiana”) coupled with the core instruments, the music arrangements on Why There Are Mountains are unequivocally epic. The band presents and subsequently discards formidable hooks as if they were available in endless supply, always shifting and morphing, each song a through-composed work of art.

Lyrically, D’Agostino puts you in the passenger seat on a trip to Cold Spring, NY— “We drove a hundred miles that day to see a Halloween parade/ Skeletal autumn in Cold Spring/ Parents holding hand with Pale Death’s infants shivering on the courthouse steps in polyester robes/ and exposed bone thermals”. He brings you along on frozen, sinister-seeming interstate highways— “I-90 through utter desolation/ I sense evil at the heart of each far-flung, well-lighted home/ I close my eyes and see cellar stairways/ vermiculated with delicate animal bone”. The metaphysical and supernatural are presented movingly, eerily— “See J passed away/ for the first time in June/ and the last time last night in the Warren/ as a warm, round, mournful sound/ flooded my room/ like blood does from the faucets of pitch black bathrooms/ during adolescent summoning rituals”.

Both stark reality and poetic numinousness pervade Why There Are Mountains, often united as one, infusing a vision of our country traversed on “pulsing arterials” with mystery and wonder, restoring meaning to the phrase “American Wilderness”. Why There Are Mountains could be one of those records that sticks with you, that you return to again and again— the type of record that defines many months or year or two of your human experience. Cymbals Eat Guitars are very possibly your new favorite band. Prepare yourself to love again.

What’s Been Said: “Plenty of bands want to take you higher and even more are looking to get you down, but it’s increasingly rare to find a record that sounds good with a AAA guidebook and a few hours to get to god knows where, as long as it’s somewhere else…here, the journey is the end not the means; fortunately, that gives Why There Are Mountains astounding replay value.” — Pitchfork (Best New Music)

“The sources for [frontman Joseph D'Agostino's] inspiration can be obvious—Pavement, Built to Spill, Dinosaur Jr.—but so are his ambition and passion…Seeing the band live drove home the full effect of guileless catharsis: Mr. D’Agostino wears himself out for you. (Like a clutch hitter between swings, he ritually composed himself after every song, wiping down his guitar neck, adjusting his capo, taking a deep breath.)” — The New York Times

“The launching point of ‘Wind Phoenix’ sounds like a moment that ad execs would kill to have in a commercial. Sure it takes a bit of a Malkmus noodling turn after that, but the initial explosion is pure joy.” — You Ain’t No Picasso

Holly Miranda has been singing for as long as she can remember. She first began playing in New York at age 16, when she dropped out of high school in Michigan, went to visit her sister in New York for a few weeks, and never turned back. She soon discovered the world of the East Village and started playing at places like The Sidewalk and meeting kindred spirits in the New York scene. Whether solo or with her band, she's become an artist consistently able to mesmerize with her range as well as her songs.

What’s Been Said: “Whether she’s performing a cappella or surrounded by a full, warm fuzz of music—as on her Dave Sitek–produced forthcoming debut—Miranda is a rare talent. And no, we’re not the first to hear it—she’s already been hyped by Kanye (always Kanye!), The New York Times and Vanity Fair.” — Time Out NY

“While Miranda has experienced success with her other band, Brooklyn outfit the Jealous Girlfriends, this harnesses a different energy. You can hear the influence of New Order as much as you can TV On the Radio, Patti Smith, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs…consider this fair warning: she’s the real deal.” — Vanity Fair

“There’s a comforting directness to [the small Brooklyn club, Zebulon]: the better the audience reception, the quieter the room gets. But sometimes the room isn’t enough, as was clear on Thursday night, when Holly Miranda’s half-hour set seemed to swallow the place whole.” — The New York Times

“A friend of the Tripwire sent us the new Holly Miranda record a couple weeks ago and we’ve been obsessed with the song ‘Slow Burn Treason’ ever since. Despite the fact she just finished the recording and has yet to announce any release plans (we were told by her management it is coming out ‘later this year’), we’re going to go on the record saying this is the best record David Sitek has produced since Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes.” — Tripwire Listen: Holly Miranda covers Pink Floyd (live)

Based in Barcelona, Delorean has released 3 albums on Spanish label Bcore and have toured Europe (Germany, Norway, France...) and Mexico many times, most recently playing in the US (SXSW) and Russia.

2008 was a busy year for Delorean. The Delorean remix of The Teenagers debut first single was released on XL Recordings getting much critical acclaim (including a Pitchfork review). They also did an official remix for the Mystery Jets last single "Half in love with Elizabeth" (reviewed also in The Fader). More recent remixing works include a remix for the once San Francisco but now NY based band Lemonade (True Panther Records), which was also reviewed in Pitchfork, and another one for the brand new band The Big Pink ("Too young to love"), members of which include Alec Empire's guitar player and the owner of Merok records.

Even if they constantly tour, they have recorded a 4 song EP for the Fluokids related new label Foolhouse (Mondkopf, 33hz, Gentlemen Drivers). The EP is expected to be released next spring and will include several remixes in digital format. As this bio is being written they're already working on new songs for an upcomming studio recording expected to happen next summer.

Finally, they run their own club night "Desparrame" with DJ K**O (The Requesters being their closest partners), with wich they're tearing spanish clubs up, some of the guests including Radioclit, Fluokids, Top billin' or Plat du Jour.

What’s Been Said: “If The Horrors think they’ve got the drop on the reinvention thing, they might want to have a chat with these lads. From the Basque region of Spain, they started out as emo rockers before morphing into euphoric trance-pop meerkats. Snapped up by hypercool French bloggers Fluo Kids for their Fool House label. This highlight from their Ayrton Senna EP is like mainlining glitter.” — NME

“They can be as airy and suave as Air France or Phoenix, but their unremitting beats are also plenty huge enough to convert fans of Cut Copy or MGMT…On the Ayrton Senna EP, the group’s burgeoning dance-pop savvy comes into bloom with three unstoppable summer bangers.” — Pitchfork (Best New Music)

“Aryton Senna is broad, dumb fun, but it’s also immaculate and deeply considered. In short, Aryton Senna is delightful. And that’s not a statement I often make without qualification or exception.” — Cokemachineglow