we gonna have new official clip for this song 

:)

bit late for the March gig review but better this than nothing :)

well...not the best start for the gig that you're waiting for years...me and my friend Argentinian friend - Sergio were late for the show for around 1 min of the opener - "Let The Day Begin"
we met our friens in the great dublin pub just next door to the venue.....and we still couldn't manage to be on time...

that sad incident made the overall impression of the whole show...the opening of the gig, specially BRMC GIG and getting late to that...i personally think that the feeling before the show starts and the tension makes the live concerts so great...

so here we are trying to get through the crowd on first minutes of the gig and i have to say that the room was full !

 

the new song sounded great the only thing is that as they being played before the official album release...it looked like most of the crowd were just focused on consuming them for the first time and trying to chew through it  with the little reaction to it....

honestly....it wasn't my best BRMC gig...first of all - i was fu &%$# late and the band itself seemed a bit tired or less enjoying the gig as they were before

overall i was really happy to be able to see them again in that great Dublin venue

By Tom Murphy Mon., May 20 2013 at 7:30 AM

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club formed in the late '90s after Peter Hayes left the Brian Jonestown Massacre, when he and his high school friend Robert Been, son of the late Michael Been of the Call, started the band, influenced by acts like the Verve, Loop and the Jesus and Mary Chain. BRMC's self-titled debut album in 2001 offered a gritty, rock and roll take on dream pop.

A dozen years later, the trio has continued to experiment with its core sound, and this year's Specter At the Feast marks some of the band's strongest material to date. We recently spoke with Hayes about his preference for Gibson electrics, his faith in acoustic guitars and working with Dave Grohl.

Westword: Was there anything you wanted to do with your life other than be a musician when you were growing up?
Peter Hayes: Baseball, and I was in line to go into the Marine Corps. Other than that, I had a little bit of an interest in architecture. I think that [came from] growing up in shitty houses. You know, design something that was better than a shack. Something a little better anyway.

You got started playing music early in life. What was the environment for that like for you in terms of places to play and bands with which to connect?
We were in the East Bay. I had grown up with my mom playing the acoustic guitar, and one of my uncles that I visited during the summer time played country songs. I always liked the stories of that growing up, as far as country. My mom was more into folk, but she had stopped playing long ago. I asked her if I could borrow her guitar at sixteen, and from there I started writing and trying to play Jimi Hendrix songs and playing in bars. From the bars, I kept on going.
As far as other bands around, it was pretty competitive, I guess, is one word, but there wasn't much support from other bands, which is a shame. Then again, I'm not the most outgoing person myself. We always played in San Francisco and just did gigs. I didn't like to have to deal with the whole scene thing, as far as a fad of what this is or that is. I don't like supporting that kind of stuff and never did. Then we moved down to L.A., and that was a little different.

Do you find you have more of a community in L.A. than you did in the San Francisco area?
No...I don't know. Maybe. Not really. It would be nice for there to be more of that. But as time goes on, it has happened a little more. That comes with a little bit of age, too, and you can forgive people for their taste a little easier. I don't forgive everybody, but I'm a little more lenient with people.

On your website you have a section called "Other Things That Matter." What do you feel are some of the most pressing issues you see facing the world today?
We were just going to name it "Things That Matter" but that was a little too harsh. So "Other Things That Matter" was a nicer way. We were given the opportunity to be involved with a place called Not For Sale that's up there that deals with human trafficking and modern slavery. It's pretty eye-opening, it's pretty sickening and it's pretty depressing. But I've always come from a place that every day you have a decision and a vote with everything you do.
The big one thing that happens every four years or every year, that's pretty useless. This is an everyday thing. As far as I'm concerned with, that, kind of tied in with the kind of clothes you wear, the food you eat and the things you drink. It's everything. It's digging a little further than the surface of "We're an oil company, but look how green we are." You know what I mean? The catchphrases. "We also plant trees over here."
Not that they're awful people, or that it's an awful thing, but there's a proper way to do it that will cost them more money to do it, and they're choosing not to. There are certain choices that they're making, from big companies to small companies, and that's where human trafficking comes in, as in the types of workers they use. That's important -- to me, anyway. I wouldn't assume that's the case for everybody -- to try to remember anyway because no one's perfect. That's for sure.

Ian Ottaway is the cousin of Emerald Siam's Kurt Ottaway. How did you meet him?
We met him, I believe, in Oklahoma the first time. He would come out and say "Hi" at shows now and again, and we kept in touch. There's certain folks that stick with you. He's an interesting character, you know.

He has that section on your website called "Ask Ian." How did that come about?
He's a creative dude. We thought it would be a good way to support free-thinking -- call it what you will, art or not -- and voicing an opinion that at least side-steps the typical, or word it in a way that connects even better. Supporting that is what we're into. It ties in with Other Things That Matter. It's art and culture. You need a place for that to happen, and we have the ability to support that. You can't really be a supporter of art and be wholly be concerned with yourself. It doesn't work that way. We're not the most important thing.

Why did that MacBeth quote suggest itself as the title for your latest album?
It was two things. It was also a Joy Division song called "Shadow Play." The imagery it conjured up with what we're dealing with in terms of a death in the family and the death of a friend.

When you were writing music for the new album, it sounds like you spent a lot of time alone in coming up with material for the songs. Do you usually do come up with music working in solitude?
Yeah. There's people that come in and out, but it gets confusing the more people that are there. If you ask someone, they're going to give you their opinion, and they're going to have ideas. I like to take it to heart and give things a chance. But at the same time, it can get things drawn out or very confusing.
No one really knows what's right. It's a guessing game, and you have to keep that in mind. It's just kind of what feels right. That's one thing I don't trust: When somebody says they know what's right. That's when you know they're full of shit. Then again, there's folks that make a living doing it, so they are definite things you can do that are go-tos that are specific ways of doing things.

Do you mostly play Gibsons these days? What do you like about those guitars compared to other models of guitars you've tried out?
It really came down to a thing I had called it a Peavey Falcon when I was sixteen or seventeen. Like I said, I started playing in bars and coffee shops, and I sold that and got an acoustic guitar, and went traveling for a while on my own. I got so used to that and the different tunings I did on the acoustic, the 335s just fit right in with that realm, as far as being able to be tuned and had the feel of an acoustic. That's really what that came down to. I tried other ones, and they do hold, but it's a longer process for setting them up right to get them to work with different tunings.

You've played acoustic and electric guitars extensively. What do you feel are the virtues of each, in terms of what you can do with them, and in terms of writing material?
That's a hard one to judge, really. I tend to kind of go toward the realm of if you can't also play it on acoustic, then you're relying a bit too heavily on some of the tricks. I do that myself on plenty of songs. They're two different animals. The nice thing is that if the power goes out, the acoustic isn't going anywhere, so I tend to have a little more love for the acoustic. You can still survive with that.
I tend to have a little more faith in the acoustic. The reason why I tend to love playing so loud is that I'm so fucking tired of people talking in the coffee shops over the acoustic guitar. When I plugged in, I was like, "Fuck that." I'd rather clear out the room and have them talk outside. That's the fun thing about electric.

What did you find interesting about working with Dave Grohl at Sound City, where you recorded the first Black Rebel Motorcycle Club album?
It was really nice of him to ask. They were turning the studio into a high tech one and getting rid of that board. We heard about that and did our first album on that one. He said he would take it, and he put it in his studio. He's a cool guy, you know? That's not necessarily something you expect of someone at that caliber. You don't necessarily expect them to be friendly. You just never know.
It was a lot of fun putting a song together with him. It was easy going that way. It was nice having that similar kind of thing when you're kind of done jamming and looking at each other and going, "Let's try that again and see where it goes." And also looking at each other and going, "I don't know. Do you know? No, I don't know. Let's try it again." It was nice to have that. It was a stress free thing.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s Peter Hayes is no stranger to the turbulence synonymous with a long career in rock. The band’s 15-year run seems to have entertained an ever-shifting balance of the good and bad - from great reviews touring the world, to bored critics, substance abuse, and everything between. The band’s most recent hurdle came with the devastating loss of Michael Been, founder of The Call, father of bandmate Robert Levon, touring sound manager, and overall inspiration.

However, light shines in with Specter at the Feast, the band’s sixth studio LP and arguably best work since Howl. We were lucky enough to encounter the soft-spoken wisdom and unaffected perspective of front man Peter Hayes backstage before their show at Terminal 5 to talk about the new album, rebellion, his thoughts on American Idol and The Voice, and the current state of rock.

Specter at the Feast is a welcome departure from a sound beginning to get stuck in a genre that was no longer necessarily exciting, but this album still has those psychedelic and sentimental elements so essential to your sound. Was this shift intentional or part of a natural progression?
It’s always intentional to try and do something different. We don’t want to repeat ourselves, and at the same time don’t want to be too concerned with sounding new because that’s a whole other world of bullshit.

One thing I love about this album is it functions as a unit, like a journey, something commonly forgotten amidst a landscape of disjointed mp3s, Pandora, etc. Is the album as an art form dissolving?
All we’ve got, really, is an album. We don’t have singles that last for too long as far as radio goes. It’s something that you think about in the process. If you happen to have a single, it has to be a certain time, a certain length, blah blah. If that happens to happen, then great, if it doesn’t, you still just want to write a good song. As far as putting it in an album, that’s the fun part of it, to try to make it have a point and have a song movement rather than just slapping songs together. But I guess it doesn’t particularly matter anymore, I can see how people don’t give a shit about it. I guess it’s unfortunate, but that’s their choice. It’s not everybody’s cup of tea to want to get involved in music on another level. It’s not for everybody.

You were in the rock band Brian Jonestown Massacre. How did the transition happen from BJM to BRMC?
Well, we already had this band going. Rob and I were playing music together, and we were fans of that band. I was floating around and saw it as an opportunity to see if I wanted to see what could be done with music, to see if I really wanted to do it. I took it as an opportunity to try and learn a little bit. And I did; I learned a lot. I went on their first US tour, did a bit of studio stuff, and then left when I didn’t feel like I was learning anymore. The transition was really that they were moving to Los Angeles [from San Francisco] at the time and one of their guitar players wasn’t willing to move, so I tried out.

Is Anton [Newcomb] really as crazy as he’s portrayed in Dig!?
(Laughs) No, no. I’ve met a lot of weird people. He’s a lovely dude. I think the girl that made that movie got a little too personal. She wanted to be friends and she crossed that line a lot. Then when she’d get angry, she’d… I mean, the shit happened. It’s on tape. You can’t deny it. But she missed a lot. She missed a whole big portion of how that whole tour ended. She kind of had to piece that together in a whole different way because she wasn’t there.

The band suffered a devastating loss with the passing of Michael Been, father of Robert Levon Been and former front man of The Call. How did this shape the album?
It’s a life experience, really. That’s all. We’re all going to have it, if we haven’t already. We tend to come at it more talking to the listener, with the idea being that the listener has already had the experience or is having one similar. It’s not about “here is us and here are our woes,” or my woes. It’s more “here’s ours, so let’s talk about it together.” It’s not about specifics for us in terms of music. But shaping it, yeah. He’s been involved since the very beginning when we were playing in his living room.

It’s been three years since your last album. How much of that time was spent writing and recording, and has the band’s process evolved through the years?
I guess about a year and a half or two of writing and recording. It was off and on. We went from rehearsal to try and piece it all together, throwing around ideas for a long time. Then that turned into picking songs. From there, we went into the studio, put down a few songs, 10 or 12, pieced together another 13, went into the studio again, put those 13, 14 together. We usually just go into the studio to do drums and take it home and do the guitars and vocals. Studios are pretty expensive. So that was LA, then we went to Santa Cruz and did a bunch there. As far as the process evolving, not really. Hopefully we’ve gotten better at recording a little bit. Really, you’re just hoping to write a good song.

You guys experienced a more methodical rise to notoriety, the opposite of Internet where seemingly anyone can pop overnight. How do you feel the Internet has affected music?
It’s a little bit of a confusing mess. On the one hand, there’s a lot you can discover for free or not free, whatever, it’s all open. The reality is, as much as people say they love music, that version of love is very different from person to person. There’s a community thing about it too. Like when somebody says “I love this,” you think “oh, I love it too,” or “I don’t.”  When you’re looking at it from the perspective of fame, it’s great because that’s gone, and that’s a good thing to me. That’s where music, rock n’ roll or whatever, lost its point and credibility a long time ago. Now that that’s not there I think it’s a great thing, and the Internet has kind of made it that. There’s no latching on to one thing anymore.

Do you think rock is being created or appreciated anymore, now that rap and electronic are so dominant? Or is rock always going to be created because it can really only be defined as rebellion?
I don’t think it’s going to go away. I think it’s been a worry for a long time that it’s going to go away, or the hope of a bunch of people that it’s going to die out. It’s not going anywhere. But the culture - there are going to be less and less people that give a shit about it maybe, but that all depends on how it’s presented, and how the band presents itself too. I really believe that there’s a reason why it’s kept in a particular place. I subscribe to the following: if you control the arts you control the people. Rebellion is just fucking thought to me. So anything that’s sparking that is not wanted. It’s not going to help with what those folks want. So it’s nice to have things all scatterbrained on the Internet. Keep things this and that. And keep people away from it. Keep people voting for the next American Idol or whatever the fuck, Dancing with the fucking Stars, The Voice, you know. It’s all there for a purpose and its purpose is fucked. You just have to be aware of it and not support it.

Just don’t get cable.
(Laughs) Yeah.

So what’s next?
We’ve got another four weeks of a US tour and we got offered some festivals over in Europe, five or six. Then after that, who knows. We could be gone in a week, then have to figure out what to do with life after that.