Better 'Coast'
Coasting has the sort of sound that could decimate a thousand laptop musicians. The work of two badass ladies, Madison Farmer on guitar and Fiona Campbell on drums, Coasting uses music to explore friendship and how to remain truly DIY in a contemporary music scene that's increasingly controlled by publicists, marketing managers and bloggers who only write about their friends.
Interviewing the band in the Dead Herring loft space, I find Coastings origin to be a common one for a modern Brooklyn band: Farmer and Campbell met while working for DIY godfather Todd P. They built stages, took door money and tended makeshift PBR bars late into the evenings. After a while, both got restless. Farmer wanted to pick up a guitar and start shredding, while Campbell, now an A-List drummer who also rips skins for Vivian Girls, hadnt played in a band since she left her native New Zealand. Coasting played its first show ever at Monster Island with Best Coast last October.
We were really relaxed about it and still are, says Farmer. Initially, it was just really easy and really fun. Every song, we write together, which is the reason why I think we havent had anyone play with us.
The groups method of composition is centered on hanging out, jamming, listening to each other and intuitively running with what sounds right. Coasting touches on everything from surf rock and classic Americana (the groups recent 7-inch has roller skates on the cover) to a blistering version of punk thats all about volume and primal energy.
What I really like about Coasting is the band isnt really centered around specific sounds or specific goals, explains Campbell. Its about the process of playing music and having fun. Like, so many songs, one of us has had an idea, a melody, drum beat or guitar riff, and then we just jam it out.
After people discover that the band consists of two females, they usually put it in a stack with Best Coast, Vivian Girls,
Dum Dum Girls and Frankie Rose and The Outs. And yes, theres definitely an indie neo-girl group thing happening where musicians like Campbell and Farmer play in multiple bands, but its not really a movement of similar sounds. These are circles of friends that grew up on obscure music, value female identity and are not afraid to do their own thing.
I think females are now making a lot of different kinds of music, says Farmer. Its no longer about prescribing to any particular ethos. One time we played and a guy was like, Its like youre just a musician. I mean, youre girls, but you can play, too. He was sort of confused but charming. We just try not to use an angle.
Campbell chimes in: I dont think this current thing is as strong as it was back in the day with the Riot Grrrl movement. It had such heated ties to it. Its definitely a thing now, though.
Its the idea of making unassuming organic music that ties everything together for Coasting. A full-length record is nowhere to be found, though the group has released a scattered series of limited-edition singles. On tracks like Hots for Teacher, Campbell becomes an absolutely brutal drummer in the vein of Janet Weiss. She not only rocks, she pummels her way through the track. Farmer throws up a twisty, meaty Crampsesque guitar line and eventually everything explodes into something akin to The Pixies being recorded on a Walkman. What You Want sounds like a faster, surfier Doll Parts, and oftentimes, the band works so fast that vocals dont even matter. Its music doused in gasoline, ready to explode and then ride massive riffs into the sunset.
More simply put, Coasting is a band of grounded goals: play some shows, make some singles and get out on the open road for a tour now and then. The group is just returning from a long West Coast jaunt.
Youll get brokenhearted if you have ridiculous goals, explains Campbell. Its not reality. Especially doing shows and having so much contact with other bands, you can see a scale of where people can go. Its so crazy. You think youve found the next huge band and nothing happens to them.
-- Coasting Oct. 7, Glasslands, 289 Kent Ave. (at S. 2nd St.), Brooklyn, 718-599-1450; 8, $10.