KEXP has posted “Te Amo” from an Atlas Sound set at
the Ace Hotel, during the CMJ Music Marathon in New York City last month. It was the final performance sponsored by the
Seattle radio station, and I luckily snagged a place on the tile floor as the
crowd gathered around the musical equipment before the show. Bradford Cox was
been creating music under the name Atlas Sound since he was ten when not busy
with his band mates in Deerhunter. (Living
with the genetic disorder Marfan syndrome manifested a solitary existence growing
up so music was a refuge, supposedly there are boxes of cassettes to support
this.) He was there overseeing the set up, concerned about the levels and the
subdued nature of the setting. Cox
likened it to playing at the New York University library with all the people
busy on laptops.
“Is there anybody listening to me talk right now?” He asked
in a southern drawl referencing his hometown of Atlanta adding, “It’s so
quiet!” This comment elicited some cheers and clapping, to which he scolded the
audience, saying how he hadn’t done anything but perhaps everyone just
liked his outfit? Cox stood ready to
play in windowpane fabric pajamas festooned with geese and Topsiders with no
socks. His wispy honey colored hair
framed an angular face and on top a very slight build. Yet he implored those in
control until there was a distinctly louder feedback, explaining how “it’s not
a folk project. “ There was also a nice shout out to the staff at the Ace
Hotel, since he considers it a home away from home filled with friends – happy
to be there since it was such an easy gig to get right downstairs to the lobby. Cox has a favorite room to stay in and has even
recorded two songs there recently, when booked time at the studio had run out.
The new lush, stream of consciousness release, Parallax, provided most of the set
list. He joked between songs and was
clearly at ease in his surroundings. It was captivating to watch Cox command
the foot pedals to create layers of sound from his Gibson acoustic guitar and prerecorded loops. Cascading synth sounds build the introduction
for “Te Amo” before Cox offered warm vocals to float above them. After he ended with the dulcet tones of
“Flagstaff,” Cox donned a light brown corduroy jacket to chat with the many friends and
fans that waited in line patiently for their turn with the lone musician. Always warm and engaging, he allowed photos
and even a few girls to sit on his lap like a skinny Santa Claus. As I left the building hours later, I spied Cox still
getting his picture taken by official photographers outside. I told him he was
quite a trooper to still be at it, especially as the temperatures were dropping
with the sun.
“Well, I sleep all day,” he told me. “My life is not that hard.”