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THE SCENE IS NOW

‘ Magpie Alarm ‘

(Tongue Master)

***

Long-awaited latest by New York’s premier (and only) ‘ avant jug-band’

With their first three albums recently receiving reissue treatment, now
seems as good as any for New York avant-popsters The Scene Is Now to submit
to the harsh glare of modernity. ‘ Magpie Alarm ‘ is their first album in
over six years, and it’s great as you’d hope – non pro, wilfully awkward pop
smarts, played with the off-the-cuff charm and a wayward, unpredictable
grasp of melody. Here are the children of Red Krayola, expertly confounding
your expectations.

- JON DALE  

THE SCENE IS NOW

‘ Magpie Alarm ‘

(Tongue Master)

*****

They don’t break cover from semi-seclusion with a new disc very often, but
when The Scene Is Now do it’s always worth a listen. The mysterious band,
who emerged from mid-80s New York Noise scene, have outdone themselves here
on their second avian-themed release on Hammersmith-based Tongue Master
Reocrds. In 2004, their stark, angular album ‘ Songbirds Lie ‘ ruffled
feathers. But here the sextet are in fine form flitting from dark pop with a
jaunty trumpet on opener ‘ Cities Are Over ‘ to the madcap fairground vibe
of ‘ Fresno ‘. With a sound that can be both delicate and brutal, charming
and beguiling, the music perfectly shares a nest with Chris Nelson’s
authoritative yet croaky voice on 14 top tunes.

-GEOFF COWART
 

THE SCENE IS NOW

“Songbirds Lie “

(Tongue Master)

Having only heard about this New York band in name (this is a 2003 reformation album after a 20+ year absence), I didn’t know what to expect, but the good news is that it’s a breath of fresh air from the all new post-punk copyists, new country, and OC-ready indie. This album has bucketloads of heart, falling in sound somewhere between Tom Waits ‘70s sunshine pop, New Orleans at Mardi Gras, and maybe even a bit of Lambchop and Morphine’s late Mark Sandman (in the vocal delivery). Let’s forget to pigeonhole them against other bands, and relay the obvious: Original members CHRIS NELSON (vocals/trombone/guitar) and PHILIP DRAY (keyboards) make festive, meticulously played music that goes from party time (“ MACHIAVELLI,” “ Going To Where It’s Green “) to boozy-introspection (“Falling Leaves “) and keeps the listener engaged by maintaining variety in the huge arrangements. Not for everybody, maybe, but definitely for the adventurous. (www.tonguemaster.co.uk)

- MICHAEL PEARLSTEIN

New No Wave
The Scene Is Now return to active duty
 

The Scene Is Now’s Chris Nelson once sang, "They’re just 24 hours, from the vine to the brine/But you gotta let ’em soak for a long, long Time/Oh, the well-made pickle is a taste sublime." The lines could describe the band’s approach to their craft. "Some elements may be off-the-cuff," says Nelson, "but by the time I say, ‘These are the lyrics,’ I’ve looked at every syllable hundreds of times." The Scene’s career has proceeded on a similar timetable: the recent Songbirds Lie (Tongue Master) is their first widely available release since 1988’s Tonight We Ride.

The roots of founders Nelson and Phil Dray lie deep in New York’s ideologically noisy no-wave scene: they formed Information in the late ’70s with drummer Rick Brown. (Nelson may even have coined the movement’s name in New York Rocker and his own fanzine NO.) "That approach didn’t exactly encourage adherence to traditional song structure," Dray recalls. The first Scene Is Now single ("1150 Lbs.") and album (Burn All Your Records), both from 1981, were song-based but spontaneous, with the traditional skills of second guitarist Dick Champ and drummer Jeff McGovern offset by Dray’s oblique keyboard, harmonica, and trombone lines and Nelson’s raw guitar and vocals. Several members also played with the groovier, earnestly leftist Mofungo, but the Scene’s touch was lighter. As Nelson had it in "If Justice Hides," years later, "There’s politics in every song . . . la da dee da da-da-da."

The band’s profile rose in the late ’80s as major indie Twin/Tone distributed their Lost Records imprint for Total Jive and Tonight We Ride, both with backing by Pere Ubu bassist Tony Maimone and dB’s drummer Will Rigby. Two ’90s outings after Champ’s departure and Twin/Tone’s implosion — the cassette-only Shotgun Wedding, and the barely-distributed CD-R Let’s Straighten It were practically samizdat. (Bar-None’s best-of The Oily Years, still in print, samples from all but the last.) "To us, it seemed we were working right along," Dray says, "but we disappeared from anyone else’s thoughts."

‘Songbirds Lie’ marks the Scene’s return to full-band status after a string of duo performances. Nelson and Dray have found another solid rhythm section in Sue Garner (also Brown’s partner) and Robert Dennis (Fire in the Kitchen/Tono-Bungay), but two newer collaborators deserve equal credit. Multi-instrumentalist Greg Peterson corresponded with Dray as a lone fan in Iowa; after moving to New York in 2000, he was drafted for live work. Trumpeter Steven Levi, whose jazz pedigree includes a stint gigging with Cecil Taylor, came aboard at almost the same time.

"This is the first time in many years Phil and I have had other people bringing in material," says Nelson. Peterson has self-released several solo discs; here he contributes music to the autumnal ballad "Falling Leaves" and two others, though he’s happy to leave the words to his elders. Levi’s "Going to Where It’s Green" is largely his handiwork. A second cousin to Talking Heads’ "Nothing But Flowers," it’s the disc’s most immediately accessible track, as Nelson — who admits to making "small adjustments" to the lyrics — ticks off the dubious pleasures of a country weekend over a ska-goes-Broadway arrangement: "The air is so damn clean/I’d better bring a magazine."

The disc’s core nonetheless remains the leaders’ knack for sophisticated play. "Machiavelli" sets quotations from the father of European political cynicism over lopsided blues-piano riffing. "A man must learn how to act like a beast/Or a half-man and a half-beast," Nelson howls, sounding like exactly that. The first of the bookending instrumentals, "T.S.I.N. Fight Song," undercuts a showy trumpet fanfare with squalling guitar, as though James Chance had invaded a Bacharach date; the closing "Molasses, 25 Cents" hangs together as loosely as 1981’s Poulenc-inspired "Rope." Given their working pace, the Scene Is Now’s return to public view could have been a soggy dill chip; instead, Songbirds Lie is as tart and crisp as a just-sliced half-sour. You could even call it sublime

- FRANKLIN BRUNO

- BOSTON PHOENIX | Issue Date July 22-28,2005

THE SCENE IS NOW

" Songbirds Lie "

(Tongue Master)

Whether in the Hoboken scene 20 years ago or in New York's today, this ranks as one of the area's most coolly spirited acts.

The Scene Is Now began in the mid-'80s as a more playful offshoot of downtown Marxist art-prank act Mofungo, of which TSIN principals Chris Nelson and Phil Dray were both members. On its '80s work, the loosely constructed ensemble embodied a slyly goofy collision of noisy experimentalism and good-natured playfulness. And we're more than happy to report that on TSIN's new album (you heard us!), ' Songbirds Lie ' (Tongue Master; U.K.), little has changed, and that's a great thing. The group is as referential to American music as Charles Ives was, and perhaps, in certain circles, as relevant, too.

TIME OUT NEW YORK - January 20-25,2005

THE SCENE IS NOW

' Songbirds Lie '

(Tongue Master)

Their name inevitably coupled with the adjective ' legendary '; The Scene Is Now have maintained an aura of mystery over two decades. Their mainstays, Chris Nelson and Philip Dray, started in the band Information, who were part of the New York No-Wave scene of the late 70s. Pere Ubu's Tony Maimone and dBs' Will Rigby passed through their ranks for a time, and the Shams collaborated with them at one point. If they're known in the wider world it's through Yo La Tengo's cover of 'Yellow Sarong' on Fakebook.

'Songbirds Lie' is not really likely to bring them a wider audience but that doesn't mean there aren't virtues here. They play what, at first hearing, sounds like endearingly cheesy muzak; bandstand in the park type of stuff. Lots of horns and keyboards; a bit like Zappa meeting Lambchop. Nelson has one of those expressive voices, somewhat like Kurt Wagner or Vic Chesnutt, that are made for tall tales and weirdness. It all builds to an uncertain atmosphere; at times a lack of clarity to ends and beginnings and a sense of
infiltration by stealth.

It's like music that you hear in dreams. Whacky, naive choruses as in 'Going To Where It's Green' and surreal tales of urban life ('Mediocre Wedding Band') sitting next to touching narratives like 'Angelique' and the exquisite 'Falling Leaves'. In truth it's going to annoy as many listeners as it enchants, but if you're game for a cross between Tom Waits and Pianosaurus it may be just your thing.

- NICK WEST

THE SCENE IS NOW

" Songbirds Lie "

(Tongue Master)

The Scene Is Now have released only five albums in twenty-two years. You’d accuse them of laziness if this, their first release to be widely available in the UK, wasn’t so damn great and so damn hard to really get a critical grasp of. The New York outfit are best known for Yo La Tengo’s take on their song Yellow Sarong, but ‘Songbirds Lie’ proves that they can hold their own against such acclaimed bands/friends without the need for back-slapping favours. Vocalist Chris Nelson’s slightly husky, slightly hushed voice recalls a wealth of talents: Johnny Cash, Elvis Costello, Randy Newman… it’s like his lungs, throat and tongue have been replaced on every song; his straight forward narratives echo the latter’s work in particular (especially on Mediocre Wedding Band). The music around him is equally as diverse, one minute possessing the subtle charms of Belle and Sebastian, the next the reassuring, gentle twang of Lambchop, and a little later the gothic-tinged acoustics of The Black Heart Possession. Call them plagiarists or geniuses, it’s your call; the fact remains that ‘Songbirds Lie’ is a truly enchanting record that’ll delight all but fans of the extremely leftfield.

- MIKE DIVER

THE SCENE IS NOW

" Songbirds Lie "

(Tongue Master)

Another album, another bunch of US oldies with a decidedly ' cult ' reputation; cited as ' influential ' by so many, but unlike the obvious - Fugazi or Mission Of Burma - these guys are producing music perhaps better suited to their advanced years. The, er, Scene are by no means grizzled emo forefathers grinding out mosh-friendly tunes for a generation-spanning audience. That's not to say that it's subdued - there are moments here when full-on punk rock is to the fore, but always with a twist. The simplest way to describe The Scene Is Now is to chuck in references and what better than Yo La Tengo, who covered ' Yellow Sarong ' on Fakebook. Their press release perhaps inevitably namechecks Pere Ubu and that may be the closest point of contact - but only if backed by a drunken mariachi band accompanied by typewriter, as on opener ' TSIN Fight Song '. For all the Big Apple's art rock influences there's definite hints of Dexy's especially with the prevalent brass and yelped vocals, and the lyric " Casio and blaring sax " sums them up nicely. There are moments of Was(not Was)-style genius, as on ' Mediocre Wedding Band ', the tale of Sally & Alvin, who " lost his job today, but it's probably for the best, as he was also placed under arrest ". At times the wry words are delivered in the style of Edwyn Collins, as on ' Falling Leaves ', but musically, only if working with They Might Be Giants ('Maddie Sloane') or their UK spiritual cousins XTC ('Rialto'). And if we're doing the comparisons thing, ' Libertyville ' has to heard if you ever wondered how (why?) Bogshed playing jazz would turn out. Sometimes old guys just keep rockin' and sometimes they'll embarass their kids with their antics. The Scene Is Now just gets weirder. We can only hope the younger generations understand.

-STUART McHUGH

THE SCENE IS NOW

" Songbirds Lie "

(Tongue Master)

After some 22 years together, the members of New York’s The Scene is Now certainly can’t be accused of being careerist or commercially-slavish. With a two-decade discography that only includes five hard-to-find albums, a smattering of singles, and one seemingly out-of-print anthology compilation, this elusive collective has a rarefied presence that only consummate record collecting near-neighbours like Yo La Tengo have noticed. In fact, TSIN’s only obvious claim to “fame” to date is through an indirect appearance on Yo La Tengo’s Fakebook (1990), wherein Ira Kaplan and co. dreamily covered TSIN’s “Yellow Sarong.” With all this in mind, it will come as some surprise to find core TSIN members, Chris Nelson (vocals/guitar/trombone) and Philip Dray (keyboards), returning after another long pause with a brand new album on West London-based label Tongue Master (on/off home to Mark Eitzel, Last Harbour, Broken Dog, et al.) in tow. Whilst it could be inaccurate to say TSIN sounds reinvigorated (this writer’s immediate knowledge of the band’s back catalogue is a thin as the next guy/girl’s), Songbirds Lie certainly doesn’t seem dogged by the fatigue and dilapidation that has befallen other bands with an equally lengthy mileage.

Such vigour is borne out right from the beginning of Songbirds Lie with the opening triumvirate of “TSIN Fight Song,” “Machiavelli,” and “Going to Where it’s Green,” wherein the group’s bucolic chamber pop joyfully joins the dots between Lambchop’s " Thriller ", Mark Mulcahy’s " Smile Sunset ", Tom Waits’ " Swordfishtrombones ", and a New Orleans street carnival. It’s an intoxicating brew that sustains itself through a good proportion of the album. At the heart of it all are Chris Nelson’s woozy bourbon-soaked and razor blade-ravaged vocals - both the band’s biggest asset and biggest stumbling block - that crucially give the larger-than-life arrangements a strong focal point and an obvious source of warmth. Things do, however, vary from the aforementioned stylistic pattern occasionally, notably on the self-deprecating “Mediocre Wedding Band” with its jazzy swing time, the peculiar spoken-word tale of “Angelique,” and the wearily downbeat Tindersticks-like “Falling Leaves” - but generally this is a consistently upbeat selection of life-affirming pop songs.

Ultimately, TSIN’s strangely textured tableau is bit tough to digest in one go, particularly when this album is perhaps three or four songs longer than it should really be. However, given that this defiantly odd but accessible musical operation has made a virtue of cumulative brevity, then it’s likely that this one readily available album won’t be quite enough to sustain any new converts over the inevitable long wait for a follow-up to reach record stores. In the interim, though, it’s definitely nice having these folks around to brighten up 2004’s rather dull musical landscape with an amenable amalgam of playful lunacy and erudite invention.

- ADRIAN PANNETT