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El Ten Eleven
"Their third record, These Promises Are Being Videotaped, is packed full of danceable melodies that put Ratatat to shame." Spin.com
"The double-neck guitar is the ultimate signifier of musical masturbation and phallocentric crotch rocking. That is, unless you're El Ten Eleven, the post-rock duo from Los Angeles, who lay down simple rhythms, then wield the finished product as mechanized dance jams." Flaunt
"Once the record stops, you want more, and more, and more." Filter
"DFA 1979 and Ratatat are obvious antecedents, but these guys place a great emphasis on layering and manipulating loops on top of a consistently bodyrocking beat." RCRDLBL.com
"Kraftwerk in the Sky." The Onion
"Audience members (like myself) stare in amazement at the fury of Kristian's fingers and feet... it makes the Polyphonic Spree seem like member-hoarding pussies." LA Alternative Press
"Your album hasn't left my CD player since last month." Spiritualized
"Although El Ten Eleven haven't yet garnered the mainstream praise they deserve, their sophisticated sound earned them a prominent spot on the Helvetica (2007) soundtrack " and scores of new fans in the process." Flavorpill
"Winning the prize for the most technically impressive band I've seen this year was L.A.'s El Ten Eleven. Dunn was often playing guitar and bass simultaneously on his double-necked guitar while his foot moved in a blur across effects and looping pedals. The coordination and precision was breathtaking without straying into gimmickry." DenverPost.com
"Is as thoughtful as it is unconstrained as it is satisfyingly accessible." Rochester City Paper
"As anyone who's ever seen the Soft Lightes can attest, Kristian and Tim are ridiculously good. El Ten Eleven's songs are all lifts and falls, transitioning easily from mellow indie sounds to full-on bounce-worthy rock and back again all within the span of four minutes." OC Weekly
"Constructed extraordinary tunnels of sound using various effects pedals and sampled loops that they create on the fly. Just think Explosions in the Sky " but with a pulse." Seattle Times
"Kristian finds some absolutely sick dance riffs on this one -- parts that would normally go to a synth and sound flat or tired sound explosive when played on live bass here. These dudes just keep getting better and better." Music For Robots
"West coast duo El Ten Eleven make instrumental rock that's not boring. I swear. On the moody, dexterous 'Lorge,' the combo fluctuates between dreary and driving with ease." Entertainment Weekly
"El Ten Eleven's dense, textured instrumentals recall post-rock standard-bearers like Tortoise or the Mercury Program, except theirs are created by only two musicians " and a whole lot of effects pedals." LA Times
"It might sound delusional to say the dude in El Ten Eleven is playing bass in a way that's never been done before, but if you've seen these guys live, you know it's not out of the question." Arizona Daily Star
There he was, this musically lucked child of a once-priest and a near-nun, 12 years old and piled high with a Radio Shack combo stereo, stacks of records, and pockets full of dubbed tapes. It was 1984 and Martin Dosh was orchestrating the soundtracks to his junior high school dances, playing only the choice cuts for the budding romantics and perspiring wallflowers: Run DMC, Prince, Devo, the Cars, New Order... At age 3, Marty had started harassing his folks to bone up for piano lessons (after three years of persistence, they gave in); that he'd developed considerable musical taste before hitting puberty should come as no real surprise.
Call him a one-man band, a virtuoso, a gifted collaborator or a family man, Martin, Marty, Dosh or Dad, our subject has gotten to now by what seems an uncanny path (perhaps call it fate). When they met, Dosh's father was a Catholic priest with pile of degrees, and his mother was living in a convent in Minneapolis preparing herself for nunhood. They left the fold for marriage; subsequently the elder Dosh found himself blacklisted from local employment, and so they left Minnesota as well. Martin was born in the greater Los Angeles area, but at age 2, his health problems and the city's endless sprawl delivered the family back into the musically nurturing arms of the Twin Cities.
Returning to the Midwest, Martin was enrolled in a Montessori school (and piano lessons). By comparison high school was, "academically, horseshit" so Dosh seized his destiny at 16 and moved east to study jazz and drums at Simon's Rock College of Bard in Massachusetts. What followed was a flurry of summer jobs, road trips to see the Grateful Dead, van living around various college outposts in Mass and NY, Zappa-esque noodling in his band Como Zoo, further schooling, the requisite amount of pot, and a little too much partying. But Dosh wanted more for his music and less for his student debt, so he swallowed his pride and returned (at 25) to his parents' in Minneapolis.
He figured the move would be temporary -- he'd save up money and practice drums until he became a self-sustaining virtuoso --but Dosh was going to shows every night and meeting more and more people in the local music-rich scene (a collision of avant jazz, freewheeling rock and progressive hip-hop), quickly realizing that what he needed had been there all along. And throughout his dedicated solo drum-and-keyboard sessions in mom and dad's basement, he'd record, record, record, accumulating a massive library of sound. Soon he'd be a touring member of Andrew Broder's Fog, and full-time player in their instrumental counterpart Lateduster.
In 2003 Anticon proudly released Dosh's virtuoso debut, Dosh, a loop-building collage of shimmering Rhodes, atypical drumming grounded in groove, field recordings and spontaneous performance (much of the album was pieced together using the 100-plus hours of tape he'd recorded at his parents'). By then he'd developed his untouchable live one-man show (swiveling on his drum stool between a kit, his modified Rhodes piano, a few pots and pans, and a simple looping pedal with a 12-second recording limit), and took to the road. Back in Minneapolis, the city he'd finally recognized as home, Dosh had been teaching drum lessons to children and falling in love on the side. He formed a family with his wife Erin (who he'd wooed by handing her a copy a song called "I Think I'm Getting Married") and her 6-year-old son Tadhg. Soon he'd be composing a track titled "Building a Strange Child," and so they would. Dosh's second full-length, Pure Trash was inspired by his life's most pleasant turns, and though the album was instrumental (minus cameos by Erin, Tadhg, the newborn Naoise, and his students), it emoted all the warmth and anticipation, fear and relief that comes with building a family. Dosh's third album, The Lost Take, showcases the man's unique approach to sound with an expanded musicality and growing guest-list including Andrew Bird and members of Tapes 'N Tapes.
His Fourth record, Wolves And Wishes, adds to the ever-impressing oeuvre with the explorative wonderment of a debut album. To date Dosh has recorded with Bonnie 'Prince' Billie, Fog, Jel, Odd Nosdam, Neotropic, Andrew Bird, Redstart, Vicious Vicious, Poor Line Condition, Lateduster, Why?, the Interferents, members of Tapes 'N Tapes, and just about any Twin Cities band with a collective ear for good taste and experimentation. He has shared the stage with Andrew Bird, Wilco, Why?, Damo Suzuki, Gary Wilson, Golden Smog, Sole, My Morning Jacket, Tapes 'n Tapes, cLOUDDEAD, Sage Francis, Devendra Banhart, Kid Dakota, Alias, Themselves, Peanut Butter Wolf, P.O.S., Happy Apple, Joseph Arthur, Pizza Boys, the Bad Plus, The Jayhawks, Atmosphere, DJ Vadim and many more.