Word: hansen
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...based experimental rock/electropop band best known for what they have titled "ambient boogie." Their music is a heady mix of everything from Muzak to French femme-pop, from acid jazz to industrial German kraut-rock, tied up into neat little alt-rock packages with the silky ribbons of Mary Hansen's lead vocals...
...fusion of diverse elements extends to their members as well, and Sunday's performance really pointed out how similar their striking visual presence is to the striking aural presence of their songs. On the one hand there's Australian-born Hansen, the gamine, androgynous face behind Stereolab's characteristically sultry French vocals. (She's possibly the only person in music today who can make a complaint about faulty sound systems sexy: "Does anyone else hear that rumble?") Her look-but-don't-touch attitude makes her akin to the too-hip aunt of Bjork and Winona Ryder, a coy mistress...
...could compare her to Austin Powers' Frau Fraubissina, although you might get a jackboot to the stomach. The creator of Stereolab's cold-hearted sound storm appeared in hardcore military-chic: high collar, olive-drab frock, tight mug. But somehow, when she and Hansen stepped up to their microphones, it was all okay: Sadier's harshness and Hansen's softness mixed together as well as Stereolab's other songwriter (and founder) Ti Gane can mix Muzak and German post-punk, the listless vocals carried along like a beauty queen in a homecoming parade of sound clips, acid jazz and dippy...
...operation since 1982, Kingston Gallery is a non-profit artist-run cooperative exhibiting work of all media. Situated in close proximity to such prominent commercial galleries as Bernard Toale, Clifford-Smith and Genovese/Sullivan, it holds its own with substantive shows such as November's solo exhibition of Janet Hansen Kawada's powerful, near-animate creations of felt, wool and wire...
...Beck" is a magic word. Beck, beck bananna-nanna pho pheck; Beck. The Pied Piper of post-grunge white boys everywhere, Beck Hansen leads us away from the dying city of Rock playing a tune of satire and pastiche. On Midnite Vultures, he eviscerates hip-hop, R&B and even Kraftwerk of their souls, piling the resultant carrion into a tower of intoxicating formal juxtaposition, and finally infuses these styles with his own pink-pants voice. Who would need anything more...