Pigeon Comeback?

Today is Tuesday and Pop-Cultured has a little gemstone of gossip. So we received a Google Alert about one of our favorite girls, Heather Chase. Girl’s been down to biz-ness, seriously.

Not only has her band been rocking around town lately, Pigeon sobered-up and went Ivy League slumming last Tuesday! Pige rocked it and debuted a new original song off their sayin’ is a 2011 album. I know, right? Pige’s got new stuff. When did they get back together again and someone please tell me when Heather became college-guy type?

The song’s called Untitled 1. and is apparently an indie-rock number about the perils of 20-something love. The opening lyrics talk about being tongue-tied and the verses seem to hint at a shy girl who can’t bring herself to tell that one guy how much she actually likes him. Aww. Sounds like something Justin Bieber would write.

The official lyrics aren’t online yet and other than a student reporter piece from The Harvard Crimson (pretty legit*) no talk of Pigeon’s 2011 album has reached our ears here at Pop-Cultured yet. But that doesn’t mean it won’t! Keep ya’ll updated.

* Though this might just be an elaborate pop-culture joke by the notorious satirically ironic comedians, The Harvard Lampoon.

This has been Pop-Cultured.

Music for Academics

ARTS

Pigeon writes like Harvard; jams like Berklee.

     

CRIMSON STAFF WRITER   

Thursday, April 1, 2010   

“Call the doctor/ Call the philosopher/ Tongue-tied but/ It slips.” Lead singer, Heather Grey Chase’s, slightly out-of-key, gritty vocals belt out lyrics to Pigeon’s newest original song, Untitled 1.; off an in-progress hypothetical 2011 album. Thus affirming vocals are not their forte. However, it wasn’t vocal gymnastics that lured Cambridge’s bookish Ivy Leaguers, and our enharmonic-counterpart souls, to Boston last night.   

COURTESY PIGEON

 

It was more to debunk the college-student-urban-legend of Pigeon; a Brooklyn avant-garde band which frequents underground clubs, low-key bars, and indie gatherings on the northeastern coast, and who cater to places crawling with young scholars looking for a break from studying or refuge from their tangled love lives. Pigeon embodies 20-something angst in both human form and noise. Mayhap gig-goers found the verse mind-boggling (“Lies drip like honey/ Fashion pop-culchur/ Darling, I talk circular.”), but catchy no doubt.   

Originally from Philadelphia, and now New York, Pigeon is best known for not being known – at all! They’re considered reclusive, even for an underground band. Maybe that was the inspiration for their lyrics “Marco Polo to/ Our secret reality/ Darling, virtuality.” Quite frankly it’s easier to find local bands in Paris then finding where Pigeon has landed. Then again, that’s fun in itself! Besides, if you can catch them performing (a lot easier than it seems), your musical palate is in for a treat. Pigeon is avant-garde music at its finest.   

Pigeon is not for the club audience or the pop-crowd. It’s rebellion against mindless dance synth is academic. It’s pure poetry put to avant-garde sound. Each song (written by Chase) is a poem in verses, artfully divided between back-up singer Monk and Chase.   

A majority of Pigeon’s act is covers. Between Chase and Monk, Pigeon uses mainstream songs and renders them in sections, then further splits them into vocal parts for each of the sextet; complimented by violin and classical guitar picking on every rendition – even pop songs. The result is something akin to satire.   

How Pigeon has found a fan-following in their odd, pushing even the strangest idea of experimental style, is impressive. Their songs tend to be convoluted; but deciphering their allusion is part of Pigeon’s schtick. These self-coined fashion-rockers (all Pigeon’s members are high fashion models), have unusual takes on music, spanning the genres of pop, rock, folk, experimental, alternative, ambient, punk, and classical. Pigeon’s hodge-podge music styling is typically defined as indie-rock, Vampire Weekend-ish, utilizing keyboards and a synclavier (programmed by pianist Chloé Saurian). They bring to mind artists like Imogen Heap and MGMT. Trademarks are their employ of violinist Erik Monk, who mimics pioneer experimental performance artist Laurie Anderson, and classical guitar fingering by Heather Grey Chase, even on their covers. Besides Chase, Monk, and Saurian, Pigeon includes bassist Dune Ralston, guitarist Feist Ralston, and drummer Libby Fink.   

Last night found Pigeon in a loud, dingy, college bar bursting at the seams. Perhaps it was the lead singer’s filmy tulle dress and neon green stilettos that brought the man-crowd. Or the slinky dance moves between band members. Or even the promise of Pigeon playing their irresistible genre-traversing satirical covers of overplayed, well-known artists.   

More likely it was the universal, and lovelorn, lyrics to their original pieces like Untitled 1.’s “Reckless words/ Slipped ihaveacrushonyou./ Your sparkle allure./ Media connect…/ I know you can feel it too –/ Just can’t admit it, can you?” paired with singularly catchy electronica that begs to be danced to.   

“Del dicho al hecho/ Hay mucho trecho./ Your move.”