Articles tagged with Nü Sensae

Eating Out – “Burn”

Eating Out
Speaking of the Prism Prize, here’s the video for “Burn” by Daniel Pitout’s band Eating Out. The clip for this grunge anthem came out a few months ago, and — much like the subsequent video for “That’s My Man” — it captures a wistful sense of chemically clouded high school nostalgia. There’s also a scene at the ever-awesome Budgies Burritos here in Vancouver.

Naturally, this earned a spot on my Prism Prize ballot. (And “That’s My Man” is a lock for next year.)

Incidentally, I interviewed Eating Out member Mish Way for Exclaim! and she shed some light on her next album with White Lung.


 
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Eating Out – “That’s My Man”

Eating Out
Eating Out is fronted by Daniel Pitout, a multi-talented musician who who plays drums in Nü Sensae and is a well-establisher actor and dancer, not to mention being an extremely eligible bachelor.

As good as he was in White Christmas, Eating Out’s new video for “That’s My Man” is my favourite thing he’s ever done. It’s a cinematic high school drama featuring someone who actually went to my high school soundtracked by a hauntingly minimal alt-rock ballad. Y’know how those new Pixies EPs suck? This doesn’t.

Eating Out also includes members of local favourites White Lung and Peace.


 
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Nü Sensae – “Swim”

Nu Sensae
Vancouver’s Nü Sensae is now a trio, having added a guitarist to the mix. The band’s album Sundowning comes out on August 7 through Suicide Squeeze Records, and you can hear the grungy punk number “Swim” below.

Not too long ago, I reviewed the band for Exclaim! when it opened for Best Coast.


 
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Write it on my skull

So much better than Old Sensae
Vancouver fuzz punk outfit Nü Sensae has a new album, TV, Death and the Devil coming out this month via Nominal. The first single is called “Cat’s Cradle,” and its ominously creeping verses are uncharacteristically placid for the duo: bassist Andrea Lukic goes sans-distortion, and her dead-eyed vocals are double-tracked and steeped in reverb. Drummer Daniel Pitout, meanwhile, offers up a tight, tom-heavy tribal beat. All hell breaks loose during the chorus, as Pitout thrashes away at his cymbals while Lukic unleashes her most terrifying banshee scream.

MP3: “Cat’s Cradle”
 
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Women @ the WISE Hall, 4/5/09

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A few weeks ago, my friend Mike told me that he had seen Women live, and while they had been good, the set was cut short due to an over-exuberant opening band. Perhaps this is a ploy to get away with playing a shorter set, or maybe they’re just unlucky—whatever the case, Women’s set last night at the WISE Hall was similarly truncated. With a midnight sound curfew looming, the band didn’t take the stage until 11:30, offering an advance apology for the necessary brevity of the performance.

The band opened with a chirpy, ska-infused new song, followed by the bouncy pop-rock of “Black Rice.” But it wasn’t long before things veered into noise-rock mayhem, with a feedback-laden take on “Woodbine.” Much of the set sounded like Liars at their most murky, with the guitar part of one new song consisting of little other than wild open-string strumming and manic whammy bar dives. As on their self-titled debut from last year, Women turned the rhythm section up high, to the point that the vocals were almost inaudible.

After half an hour (down to the minute), the band left the stage with a mumbled thank you, waiting several minutes before granting the audience an obviously-reluctant encore of “Group Transport Hall.” Unlike the snappy, acoustic strumming of the album version, the song was slow and chugging, a fittingly ominous end to a blistering set. It’s just a shame Women didn’t really seem to want to be there.

It’s no surprise that Women ran out of time, since the show had three opening acts. Church of the Very Bright Lights and Kidnapping both delivered solid sets, with each group showing promise, but lacking a strong enough vocalist to deliver on its potential. The clear standout of the openers was the local punk-metal duo Nü Sensae. Dressed in flannel and looking like they had wandered off the set of Airheads, the pair delivered a series of relentless of drum-and-bass thrashers; squealing feedback marred the few brief pauses between songs, ensuring that the audience didn’t have even a moment to catch its breath.
 
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