Car Seat Headrest

AdHoc Presents

Car Seat Headrest

Gold Connections

Tue · May 8, 2018

Doors: 6:00 pm / Show: 7:00 pm

$25.00

Sold Out

This event is all ages

Car Seat Headrest
Car Seat Headrest
Toledo always knew he would return to Twin Fantasy. He never did complete the work. Not really. Never
could square his grand ambitions against his mechanical limitations. Listen to his first attempt, recorded at
nineteen on a cheap laptop, and you’ll hear what Brian Eno fondly calls “the sound of failure” - thrilling,
extraordinary, and singularly compelling failure. Will’s first love, rendered in the vivid teenage viscera of
stolen gin, bruised shins, and weird sex, was an event too momentous for the medium assigned to record
it.

Even so, even awkward and amateurish, Twin Fantasy is deeply, truly adored. Legions of reverent listeners
carve rituals out of it: sobbing over “Famous Prophets,” making out to ‘Cute Thing’, dancing their asses off
as ‘Bodys’ climbs higher, higher. The distortion hardly matters. You can hear him just fine. You can hear
everything. And you can feel everything: his hope, his despair, his wild overjoy. He’s trusting you - plural
you, thousands of you - with the things he can’t say out loud. “I pretended I was drunk when I came out to
my friends,” he sings - and then, caught between truths, backtracks: “I never came out to my friends. We
were all on Skype, and I laughed and changed the subject.”

You might be imagining an extended diary entry, an angsty transmission from a bygone LiveJournal set to
power chords and cranked to eleven. You would be wrong. Twin Fantasy is not a monologue. Twin Fantasy
is a conversation. You know, he sings, that I’m mostly singing about you. This is Will’s greatest strength as
a songwriter: he spins his own story, but he’s always telling yours, too. Between nods to local details -
Harper’s Ferry, The Yellow Wallpaper, the Monopoly board collecting dust in his back seat - he leaves room
for the fragile stuff of your own life, your own loves. From the very beginning, alone in his bedroom, in his
last weeks of high school, he knew he was writing anthems. Someday, he hoped, you and I might sing these
words back to him.

“It was never a finished work,” Toledo says, “and it wasn’t until last year that I figured out how to finish it.”
He has, now, the benefit of a bigger budget, a full band in fine form, and endless time to tinker. According
to him, it took eight months of mixing just to get the drums right. But this is no shallow second take,
sanitized in studio and scrubbed of feeling. This is the album he always wanted to make. It sounds the way
he always wanted it to sound.

It’s been hard, stepping into the shoes of his teenage self, walking back to painful places. There are lyrics he
wouldn’t write again, an especially sad song he regards as an albatross. But even as he carries the weight of
that younger, wounded Toledo, he moves forward. He grows. He revises, gently, the songs we love so
much. In the album’s final moments, in those “apologies to future me’s and you’s,” there is more
forgiveness than fury.

This, Toledo says, is the most vital difference between the old and the new: he no longer sees his own story
as a tragedy.

He’s not alone no more.
Gold Connections
Gold Connections
Gold Connections is a VA-based indie rock outfit, melding vintage sounds with punk tenacity.

While the band started at William and Mary among such acts as Car Seat Headrest and Swampblossom, frontman and songwriter Will Marsh relocated to Charlottesville after graduation.

Thanks to a successful crowd-sourcing campaign in Fall 2015, Marsh recorded his debut LP: Popular Fiction. Tracked at Mitch Easter's Fidelitorium Recordings in Kernersville, NC, and produced by Daniel Levi Goans of Lowland Hum, Popular Fiction explores the mystery of nostalgia, religion, and coming-of-age. The record is planned for a Spring 2017 release.

After completing his first LP, Marsh formed the new Gold Connections lineup with Charlottesville High School friends Patrick Haggerty and Noah Rosner. They channel the rawness and immediacy of a homegrown power trio––evoking Neil Young's melodic noise and Television's poetic attack.
Venue Information:
Market Hotel
1140 Myrtle Ave
Brooklyn, NY, 11237
http://markethotel.org/