Connection Marc Ribot's Ceramic Dog

• 1Connection03:34
• 2Subsidiary07:07
• 3Soldiers in the Army of Love05:10
• 4Ecstacy04:57
• 5Swan09:46
• 6No Name05:50
• 7Heart Attack03:50
• 8That's Entertainment03:44
• 9Order of Protection10:41
• 10Crumbia04:32
• Total Runtime59:11

Info for Connection

On their 5th studio album, Connection, Marc Ribot’s Ceramic Dog have pushed their long-brewing tension between traditional pop songcraft and avantgarde improvisational music to the breaking point, bridging their customary genre-agnostic approach with elements of glam boogie, minimalist disco, psychedelic boogaloo, garage-punk-against-the-machine agitprop, and so much more. Recorded at Figure 8 Recording in Brooklyn, NY and mixed by Ben Greenberg (Danny Elfman, Depeche Mode, Lamb of God) the album sees Ribot – whose prodigious, impossible-to-categorize body of work as bandleader and musician spans no wave and jazz, Brazilian and Cuban music, roots and avant-garde and protest songs (often at the same time) alongside legendary collaborations with Tom Waits, Elvis Costello, The Lounge Lizards, John Zorn, Robert Plant & Alison Krauss, Caetano Veloso, and Laurie Anderson (to name but a few) – continuing to utilize Ceramic Dog as the vessel for his distinctive stream-of-consciousness songwriting, penning three out of the album’s four vocal tracks including the groove-infected “Ecstasy” (showcasing Anthony Coleman’s slinky Farfisa and longtime friend and associate Syd Straw behind the mic). From the anthemic manifesto “Soldiers in the Army of Love” to the unhinged ranting of “Heart Attack” and indescribable “No Name,” Ceramic Dog unleash a fury of complex time signatures, blues abstraction, and free-blowing energy to create their most unapologetically audacious collection thus far, their one-of-a-kind daring evidenced by the unlikely cover of Arthur Schwartz and Howard Dietz’s “That’s Entertainment,” written especially for the 1953 Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer musical film The Band Wagon but here, in Ribot and Co’s hands, deconstructs Hollywood cliches while simultaneously winking at both the post-punk and post-Cultural Revolution iterations of the Gang of Four. Fueled by what Ribot calls “several bolts of creative lightning,” Connections stands as a vibrant, odd, and in many ways definitive milestone in what is truly a singular creative journey for Marc Ribot and Ceramic Dog, its zeitgeist-busting sound and vision not only affirming their place in the musical universe but raising the stakes for whatever comes next.

Marc Ribot, guitars, tres (4), dobro (5), bass (2, 3, 9), vocals
Shahzad Ismaily, bass, electronics, vocals
Ches Smith, drums, percussion, electronics, vocals
Guests:
Syd Straw, vocals (4)
Anthony Coleman, Farfisa (4, 8, 10)
James Brandon Lewis, saxophone (5, 7)
Greg Lewis, Hammond B3 organ (9)
Oscar Noriega, clarinet (10)
Peter Sachon, cello (6)

Marc Ribot's Ceramic Dog
“I got a right to say FUCK YOU!!!” is how the new album from veteran guitarist Marc Ribot’s trio Ceramic Dog starts off, with Ribot howling in anger at corruption, tyranny, life in general, and nothing in particular. Ribot certainly isn’t the only one piling-on, but if you’ve got a serious case of outrage fatigue, Ceramic Dog’s explosive cocktail of balls-to-the-wall abandon, chameleonic disregard for style constraints, political commentary, and absurdist humor is just the shot in the ass you might need. In fact, Ceramic Dog’s new album -- titled YRU Still Here?— directed in equal parts at themselves, the commander in chief, and the listening public -- arrives just in time to remind us that now is a moment when anger is not only necessary, and unavoidable, but also good for house plants . Thanks in no small part to the fire, brimstone, and dextrous facility summoned by kindred spirits Shahzad Ismaily (Secret Chiefs 3, Will Oldham, Ben Frost) on bass and drummer Ches Smith (Xiu Xiu, Secret Chiefs 3, Trevor Dunn’s Trio Convulsant), YRU Still Here? comes to the table armed with more than just sloganeering rhetoric. By way of stylistic explanation, Ribot comments: “Yes, we too are subject to the post-modern condition, but we see it as a kind of psoriasis.” Alongside his monumental career forging his peerless guitar style with the likes of Tom Waits, John Zorn, the Lounge Lizards, etc, Ribot has also worked for decades as a tenant union and artist rights activist, where he master ed the agit-prop skills used to such dazzling effect on hits such as “Fuck La Migra” and “Muslim/Jewish Resistance”. As much as it is a rallying cry, though, YRU Still Here? also further consecrates Ribot’s bond with Ismaily and Smith, referring to them as his “musical conscience” and to the band as a “family...although not always in a good way”. “After all the playing I’ve done,” Ribot explains, “there’s just something about this group that still manages to shock me.”

This album contains no booklet.