Event

Stateside & Live Nation Present
Hot Chip, LA Priest
April 24, 2022 8:00 pm (Doors: 7:00 pm )
Ages 13 and Up
Advance Price: $35 + fees / Day of Show Price: $38 + fees

This event is 13+ (12 & under admitted with parent/legal guardian)


Please Note: There is a delivery delay in place on tickets through 04/21/22. No tickets will be sent out prior to 04/21/22. 

To reduce staff contact with guest belongings, we have implemented the following bag policy: we will allow clear plastic, vinyl or PVC tote bags no larger than 12” x 6” x 12” and/or small clutch bags (4.5”x 6.5”).


The Event Organizer is requiring all attendees of this event to have received a negative COVID-19 test within 72-hours prior to entering the venue, OR be fully vaccinated against COVID-19. In attending the event, you certify and attest that you and all individuals in your party attending the event will abide by the following regulations:

All fans will provide printed proof of a negative COVID-19 test within 72-hours prior to entering the venue, OR be fully vaccinated against COVID-19 (at least two weeks after final dose) and provide printed documentation providing proof of immunization. Unvaccinated fans under 12 years of age will be required to take a COVID-19 diagnostic test within 72-hours before the event and will provide proof of negative result prior to entering the venue.

Entry requirements and venue protocols are subject to change.

 
Hot Chip

On June 21st 2019, British group Hot Chip will release their seventh studio album, A Bath Full of Ecstasy. Their third album for Domino, A Bath Full of Ecstasy is the group’s definitive release, crystallising the sound they’ve become celebrated for – bridging euphoria and melancholy with colourful melodies, idiosyncratic vocalisations and pounding electronic pop rhythms. The album also sees them open up to a more adventurous and collaborative song-writing process, choosing to work with outside producers for the first time: Philippe Zdar, the French maestro who’s shaped the magic of Cassius and Phoenix, and Rodaidh McDonald, the Scot who’s collaborated with The XX, David Byrne and Sampha, among others.

The group (Owen Clarke, Al Doyle Joe Goddard, Felix Martin and Alexis Taylor) began working on A Bath Full of Ecstasy in the autumn of 2018, the bulk of it written and recorded in three, one-week long sessions. At his Motorbass studio in Paris, Zdar played the role of co-producer, mixing engineer and gentle eccentric, and built much of the sonic space that the album occupies: a focus on drums and bass, with minimal use of guitar and plenty of multi-layered, arpeggiated keyboard melodies; shaping A Bath Full of Ecstasy with the “French Touch” he’s known for. When recording in London, the analytical McDonald encouraged the group to make each song leaner, more direct. “Rodaidh was really good at getting us to think about the song-writing,” says Goddard, “especially on ‘Melody of Love.’ He was quite ruthless – ‘is this verse too long? Do we have to write something stronger? We should get to the chorus faster.’ He pushed us to be more ambitious.”

The album’s opener, “Melody of Love” began as a 12-minute instrumental track and features a sample from the gospel group The Mighty Clouds of Joy. Under the eye of McDonald, the group turned it into a bombastic explosion of Technicolor pop. A repeating sampled vocal, cut-up to the point of abstraction, follows the lyrical chorus and an uplifting synthesizer motif. This musical passage is the melody of love, the summation of the song’s workings; by working together, the group may be able to find the perfect gesture for their emotions. “Melody of Love” is about the importance of the transformative, non-verbal moment – ecstasy as personal happiness, but also of transcendence, of being outside oneself.

The sound of A Bath Full of Ecstasy has a breeziness to it that comes in large part from Zdar: “You have to put air in it!” he’d exclaim theatrically, says Doyle, “it needs more air!” His liberal use of a Grampian spring reverb unit for pleasant distortion made sure of that, along with the group’s choice of machines. They were particularly drawn to a select few: the wooden polyphonic KORG PS3200 synthesizer (“It sounds like the gates of heaven opening,” exalts Doyle), the Yamaha CS70-M and CS-80, synonymous with Stevie Wonder, and the Oberheim OB-Xa, an analogue synthesizer with a bright, celestial quality, beloved by Prince, Depeche Mode, and Detroit techno originators. Alongside these classic synthesizers and keyboards, modular synthesis plays an important role in the sound of A Bath Full of Ecstasy. After building up his own Eurorack system over the years, Martin made a corner of each studio cosy with wires and outboards, riffing off the looping melodies and physical gestures of the sessions to create gentle dopamine rushes of electronic ambience, amplifying the song structures as well as sculpting the lead and background vocals.

To better render the emotional honesty that colours much of Hot Chip’s output, the advice Taylor gives himself is to not “speak or verbalise too much through the creative process. Act instead.” That desire to act is most keenly felt on lead single “Hungry Child.” For 6 glorious minutes, Hot Chip fuse the uplifting soft pads and melodic keys of classic soulful house and the percussive swing of UK garage, full of sweet vocalisations and rhythmic snaps, to make an instant, club-ready hit. “Hungry Child” moves with a tender power that feels classically Hot Chip, its driving pace primed for full body-swings on heaving dance floors, hands raised and singing in unison.

Throughout Hot Chip’s albums, a light-touch vocal production process allowed for the nakedness of Taylor’s falsetto to become one of the group’s signatures. A Bath Full of Ecstasy, though, proves to be more experimental in this sense – delays and effects, modular wizardry and a more playful dynamic range in the mixing process take Taylor’s voice in new directions, blossoming and wilting with the flow of the music.  On “Spell,” this comes to the fore: manipulating voices to be playful and free, without obfuscating the words; even harking to Prince’s gender-bending infectious lust, allowing Taylor to becoming less immediately recognisable at times. On “Bath Full of Ecstasy,” there’s a delicate display of lilting vocalisations, laid back ’70s pop-rock rhythms and gentle modular synthesis, all washed through like watercolour.

In his lyricism, too, Taylor steps out of his comfort zone on A Bath Full of Ecstasy. Though rooted in first person, autobiographical tales of romance and friendship, his storytelling here becomes more bodily, and more open to new ideas. On “Spell,” Goddard encouraged Taylor to transform his wistful tone into something more erotic and alive. On “Positive,” he chooses to sing from another person’s perspective altogether. In trying to understand how someone copes with illness and sadness, with living a lonely life on the streets, “Positive” tackles a dark subject matter while offering the protagonist a moment of respite through music: a juxtaposition between the frenetic euphoria of the sound and the melancholy of one human being, just hoping that someone, somewhere, cares.

It cycles back to what Taylor sees as the epitome of Hot Chip: “To demonstrate musically what is needed to be said; often, indeed, what is too difficult to be spoken.” Through the deep bond that the group have cultivated, expanding on their sonic experimentation and lyrical openness, A Bath Full of Ecstasy became their most dazzling album yet.

 
 
LA Priest

Sam Eastgate has always had maverick tendencies, but with GENE, his second album as LA Priest, he’s come up with his most inspired invention yet. 

 

Arriving  four years after the iconoclast variously known as Sam Dust, LA PRIEST and La Priest thrilled the world with the cosmic pop of his debut album Inji, his first LP for Domino and his first solo output following the disbanding of former outfit, Late Of The Pier. GENE also follows the 2016 project Soft Hair, in which Sam teamed up with Connan Mockasin for an instant cult-classic album.

 

GENE, the album, is named after a brand new analog drum machine Sam dreamt up and built alone. Working in isolation for more than two years, soldering iron in hand, Sam developed the inners of GENE using dozens of electrical circuits he made up himself. Its unique rhythmic patterns are the focal point for the album, which is coloured by lush, pastoral tones. Where before there were traces of the far out stylings of Late Of The Pier, the band that made his name, Aphex Twin and Ariel Pink, now there are shades of Arthur Russell, Prince and even Radiohead. 

 

You’ll see the machine before you hear it, nestled on a bed of moss on the album’s sleeve. Enchanted by the orange-flowering Hawkweed growing near his home in deepest Wales, Sam filled his garden shed with the moss, feeling compelled to cultivate it. 

 

This intensity of purpose defines the album. GENE is defined by the new avenues Sam’s drum machine allowed him to explore and the solitary environment in which he made it, as he travelled between Wales, Northern California and England’s south coast. The isolation is palpable. The machine creates an addled, emotive sound, songs twist and turn, anchored by fat, oozing rhythms rich in texture. The product of clear-eyed focus, the record offers a one-way ticket into a dimension entirely of Sam’s own making.

 

Sam achieved instant cult hero status when Late Of The Pier broke big, the band shining a light on his wandering talents. Bruised by hard touring and the record business, he began to retreat, embracing a nomadic working style oblivious to space and time. Inji dropped in 2015, establishing his off-kilter pop sound as a force to behold. Soft Hair, his 2016 project with Connan Mockasin, was slinkier and more demure, now, GENE locks into an altogether different groove.

 

The spark first came on a crisp autumn day somewhere near the Welsh village of Llanfair Caereinion in October 2016. Sam retreated to his recording set-up after finishing the promo trail for Inji, and he was searching for a way to channel his latest inspirations into music. The problem was, the universe was yet to create an instrument that was up to the job.

 

“I was aimlessly wandering around, barely aware of where I was going, trying to come up with a way of building this thing,” Sam begins. “The moment I realised how to do it, I ran back home.”

 

Sam had built his own instruments before (there was a GENE prototype as far back as 2010, and Inji track ‘Gene Washes With His New Arm’ was named in its honour) but this time was different. He was searching for an alternative to the structured rigour of standard drum machines, he wanted to synthesise different sounds, change pitch and timing. What he built is about to pull listeners further into his mind than ever before, GENE makes rhythms that feel inhabitable; this is a record to set up camp in.

 

“I wanted to do the second album differently and I was faced with a problem,” he says. “I liked using drum machines, but the rhythms were always really strict. Building GENE took about six months, at the end of it I thought, ‘Wow, this is really something quite special.’ It’s something that’s never been made before. I crammed it full of things I hadn’t seen anywhere else. It was more useful than my other equipment, everything on this record is based around that machine. You have to hear it to get the full appreciation…”

 

Indeed, Sam says GENE has such a unique sound that, “When you put it with normal drums or drum machines, it’s in its own world, so it really takes you in another direction, which I think people are going to really love.”

 

The same is true of all Sam’s output so far, but GENE is the most complete realisation of his vision yet. These songs are on a quest for meaning, exploring the limits of their maker’s abilities. The result is a gripping, immersive listen. 

 

Opening with the inescapable melody of ‘Beginning’, the record struts and sparkles into ‘Rubber Sky’, which Sam says is a “loner anthem” that celebrates his unique approach to making music and the success it’s brought him. The searching ‘What Moves’ finds the narrator questioning the motivation behind the choices they make. Then comes the melancholic interlude of ‘Sudden Thing’ and the ginormous noise of centerpiece ‘Monochrome’. Sam says fans will spot the “traditional love songs” but, as usual, the lyrics are abstract, his words dictated by the music. 

 

The crunch and texture conjured by GENE are assisted by keyboards, guitar and, every so often, live drums, and the final third takes a sharp turn towards something darker, more mystical. During the largely instrumental suite of ‘Kissing Of The Weeds’, ‘Black Smoke’ and ‘Ain’t No Love Affair’, rhythms gyrate, melodies hiss and gurgle.

 

A creaking wooden house that was once a doctor’s surgery in the Californian mountains was home for a year, following the aforementioned Welsh ramble. The heating was on the blink, faulty electrics led to the hum you can hear on vast swathes of GENE. Another part of the record’s geographic roots are linked to the south coast of England. The coastal location meant that the sound of the sea, rain and thunderstorms made their way onto the album too: Sam wants you to live in GENE as he did.

 

For the three years it took to make the album, he didn’t listen to any other music. This allowed him to step into another dimension. “A symptom of not listening to anybody else’s music is that you’re heart rate is a lot slower, your brain’s running at a different speed,” says Sam, revealing that he sped up some of the songs as the record grew. 

 

As always with Sam, lyrics came last, words crafted from the vocal sounds he’d laid down initially.

 

“It’s more valuable to let the songwriting teach you something, rather than trying to deliver a message or contrive something,” he says. “When you’re more open, you’re going to learn more about the world around you and have the song say something about that, rather than just about yourself.”

 

As ever with LA Priest, there’s no such thing as predictable.

“With every record I’ve made, people don’t listen and know how their next 40 minutes will go,” he says, simply. “It’s more like, ‘I want this to take me wherever it wants to.’ People really have to go for the ride…”