THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Feb. 19-25
"Letter to the World" - Dead Heart Bloom
With its Pink Floyd chords, Beatlesque strings, and Neil Finn-ish melody, "Letter to the World" is both lovely and deep, always a gratifying combination. The loveliness stems from a beautiful major-to-minor melodic refrain set against an exquisitely restrained instrumental background; the depth emerges first from Boris Skalsky's rich voice, with its Lennon-like timbre, and, as with the loveliness, is encouraged by the pristine production. Formerly the bassist and keyboard player with a D.C. band called the Phasers, Boris Skalsky is now doing the one-man singer/songwriter/performer/producer thing as Dead Heart Bloom. To his credit, however, Skalsky seems at the same time to enjoy collaboration, bringing guest musicians in where needed (and thus avoiding the claustrophobic feeling that often afflicts bedroom rock productions). And he clearly knows what he's doing: listen to how beautifully everything is layered together, from those mournful string quartet flourishes to his firmly centered piano motifs to that forlorn guitar crying echoes in the distance. Dead Heart Bloom's debut, self-titled CD will be released in March on KEI Records, but is now available to download, for free, via the Dead Heart Bloom web site. Do yourself a favor and check out other songs on the album, as Skalsky manages, impressively, to range far and wide sonically even while sounding in the end very much like one band.
"Sunbaby" - the High Violets
And yet sometimes of course I feel like all the fuzzed-up grind of a real band. I will forever be partial to the sort of sound the High Violets aspire to, a shoegazey sort of churny-chimey drive, with an angelic singer floating along on top of all the rumbly electricity. I've been sitting with this song for a number of weeks, putting it aside in the past for what I kept hearing as the lack of a completely satisfying hook; but this week, coming after the precise beauty of the Dead Heart Bloom song, this sounds quite satisfying indeed (the segue is really good, if I do say so myself). (And okay, I know, not many of you guys may necessarily listen to each week's songs one after the other, but be aware that they are in fact selected as threesomes, each balancing something off against the other two.) One of the mistakes I made previously was not turning the volume up high enough: this song just does not achieve its full minimalist-hypnotic effect without the right volume. (When the rhythm and lead guitars start to sort of melt into each other, you're just about loud enough.) Singer Kaitlin Ni Donovan has both a cool name and a fetching way of singing the word "you" differently each of the six times she sings it in the chorus. She has a fetching way of singing "sunbaby" too, just kind of snapping the word "sun" off the roof of her mouth. The High Violets are a Portland, Oregon-based quartet; "Sunbaby" is a song from their new CD, To Where You Are, released at the end of January on Reverb Records. The MP3 is available via the band's web site.
"Clouds" - the Submarines
No doubt if every song were in three-quarter time, the concept would wear thin, probably quickly. But as this is an unlikely development, songs that bounce along with three beats to the measure frequently carry an automatic, bonus air of wistful joy about them. The duo calling themselves the Submarines accentuate this wistful-joyful dichotomy as singer Blake Hazard's intimate, ache-laced voice is offset by a bubbly keyboard riff; likewise does the pair manage to fuse a groovy '60s vibe (I keep think I'm hearing musical allusions to early Joni Mitchell in here--hey she sang about clouds too--but they slip away when I try to pin them down) with a more somber 21st-century electronica edge. Hazard and John Dragonetti, the other Submarine, were once a couple, broke up, went and wrote a bunch of songs separately, and may now be reunited; it's kind of hard to tell from the convoluted bio posted on the Nettwerk Records site. Likewise difficult to discern is when their debut CD, called Declare a New State is coming out--sometime in the spring, it seems. In any case, "Clouds" is one of three good songs from the CD now available as free and legal MP3s on the band's site. Many thanks one more time to Bruce from Some Velvet Blog for the lead.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Feb. 12-18
"Don't Know Why (You Stay)" - The Essex Green
Previous songs I've heard from The Essex Green have had their charms somewhat blanketed by the earnest groovy-'60s vibe laid on with such love and attention that it all grew a bit thick--everything from specific guitar sounds to the character of background harmonies and the tone of flute flourishes seemed almost too studied, or maybe too precious. Or maybe it was just the songs didn't stick. But the band is back soon with its third full-length CD (The Cannibal Sea) and it sounds like things may be really clicking for them this time. "Don't Know Why (You Stay)" has the crisp swagger of a great old Lindsay Buckingham tune, building a compelling whole from the steady, knowing layering together of its various parts; when the Mamas-and-Papas harmonies come in to flesh out the chorus, they seem the perfect embellishment rather than a cute bit of retro style. And darn if I don't love to death the mysteriously engaging vocal leap taken each time on the second "I don't know why" of each chorus. Too bulky to describe in words, just listen. It's mysteriously engaging, you'll see. The new CD is due out in March on Merge Records. The MP3 is available via Toolshed (a music promotion firm).
"Sweet Heart Said" - Shelley Short
Not much of a fan of pre-fabricated Hallmark holidays, I offer a prickly-cute, offbeat sort of Valentine's Day salute, courtesy of the prickly-cute, offbeat Shelley Short. With a timeless, deep-folk melody, charming percussion, and an arresting violin accompaniment, the song clangs along with a determined stop-start-iness; it's like someone deconstructing the McGarrigle sisters. Short's new album, Captain Wild Horse (Rides The Heart of Tomorrow), is as endearingly enigmatic as the title suggests, a sometimes hypnotic amalgam of soft but often off-balance sounds, recorded in a purposeful sort of lo-fi sheen, if such a thing is possible. Short is a refugee from both art school and the Pacific Northwest who has settled for the time being in Chicago ("for no good reason," notes her bio). Captain Wild Horse is her second CD; it will be released tomorrow (Valentine's Day!) on Hush Records; the MP3 is courtesy of the good folks at Hush.
"Not Going Home" - the Elected
Glistening and stately, "Not Going Home" is a spiffy and captivating example of a new sort of rock that's been emerging here in the 21st century, a rock that merges the big and the small in subtle and distinctive ways. While taking a lot of sonic cues from the smooth pop-rock of the '70s, this is not really anything like that sort of stuff. The band's own record label refers to this song as the album's "stadium-sized centerpiece" but I really think they've got it mislabeled; it's only stadium-sized to the extent that the stadium fits onto the HDTV screen in the family room. And to be honest that's really what's so intriguing and different here. Blake Sennett and company here take an expansive melody, rig it up with layers of vocals, underscore it with a ringing, reverb-ing guitar line, and still give us something precise and intimate. Sennett's voice has a wonderful, mouthy sort of character that gives his whispery high notes an unnerving amount of depth. I can't nail this down with words, but the sonic space here is introspective rather than extroverted; even the all-but-shouted vocalizing of the song's final minute sounds personal and close at hand rather than arena-big. Sennett is Jenny Lewis's songwriter partner and guitarist in Rilo Kiley; the Elected is his side project, and the band's album Sun, Sun, Sun (Sub Pop), coincidentally or not, came out the same day in January as Lewis's more widely publicized solo endeavor, Rabbit Fur Coat. The MP3 is available via the Sub Pop site
week of Feb. 12-18
"Don't Know Why (You Stay)" - The Essex Green
Previous songs I've heard from The Essex Green have had their charms somewhat blanketed by the earnest groovy-'60s vibe laid on with such love and attention that it all grew a bit thick--everything from specific guitar sounds to the character of background harmonies and the tone of flute flourishes seemed almost too studied, or maybe too precious. Or maybe it was just the songs didn't stick. But the band is back soon with its third full-length CD (The Cannibal Sea) and it sounds like things may be really clicking for them this time. "Don't Know Why (You Stay)" has the crisp swagger of a great old Lindsay Buckingham tune, building a compelling whole from the steady, knowing layering together of its various parts; when the Mamas-and-Papas harmonies come in to flesh out the chorus, they seem the perfect embellishment rather than a cute bit of retro style. And darn if I don't love to death the mysteriously engaging vocal leap taken each time on the second "I don't know why" of each chorus. Too bulky to describe in words, just listen. It's mysteriously engaging, you'll see. The new CD is due out in March on Merge Records. The MP3 is available via Toolshed (a music promotion firm).
"Sweet Heart Said" - Shelley Short
Not much of a fan of pre-fabricated Hallmark holidays, I offer a prickly-cute, offbeat sort of Valentine's Day salute, courtesy of the prickly-cute, offbeat Shelley Short. With a timeless, deep-folk melody, charming percussion, and an arresting violin accompaniment, the song clangs along with a determined stop-start-iness; it's like someone deconstructing the McGarrigle sisters. Short's new album, Captain Wild Horse (Rides The Heart of Tomorrow), is as endearingly enigmatic as the title suggests, a sometimes hypnotic amalgam of soft but often off-balance sounds, recorded in a purposeful sort of lo-fi sheen, if such a thing is possible. Short is a refugee from both art school and the Pacific Northwest who has settled for the time being in Chicago ("for no good reason," notes her bio). Captain Wild Horse is her second CD; it will be released tomorrow (Valentine's Day!) on Hush Records; the MP3 is courtesy of the good folks at Hush.
"Not Going Home" - the Elected
Glistening and stately, "Not Going Home" is a spiffy and captivating example of a new sort of rock that's been emerging here in the 21st century, a rock that merges the big and the small in subtle and distinctive ways. While taking a lot of sonic cues from the smooth pop-rock of the '70s, this is not really anything like that sort of stuff. The band's own record label refers to this song as the album's "stadium-sized centerpiece" but I really think they've got it mislabeled; it's only stadium-sized to the extent that the stadium fits onto the HDTV screen in the family room. And to be honest that's really what's so intriguing and different here. Blake Sennett and company here take an expansive melody, rig it up with layers of vocals, underscore it with a ringing, reverb-ing guitar line, and still give us something precise and intimate. Sennett's voice has a wonderful, mouthy sort of character that gives his whispery high notes an unnerving amount of depth. I can't nail this down with words, but the sonic space here is introspective rather than extroverted; even the all-but-shouted vocalizing of the song's final minute sounds personal and close at hand rather than arena-big. Sennett is Jenny Lewis's songwriter partner and guitarist in Rilo Kiley; the Elected is his side project, and the band's album Sun, Sun, Sun (Sub Pop), coincidentally or not, came out the same day in January as Lewis's more widely publicized solo endeavor, Rabbit Fur Coat. The MP3 is available via the Sub Pop site
Monday, February 06, 2006
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Feb. 5-11
"Electricity + Drums" - the Apparitions
From its almost startling, stripped-down, Frank Zappa-meets-the-Stones opening, "Electricity + Drums" picks up full-out rock'n'roll flavor, but with any number of idiosyncratic turns and shifts. I'm particularly enjoying how the song blends the straightahead ambiance of a basic, three-chord rocker while actually sneaking a lot more into its simple-seeming container. The overall sound seems familiar in a rootsy-rocky somewhat-Southern sort of way and yet also slightly off and unusual, like when you dream you're in your own house, and you know it's your own house even as it doesn't look like your house really looks. Stuff keeps happening: different vocalists show up (three of the band members sing), chords modulate, guitars churn and squeak in unexpected combinations (the band also features three guitarists). I don't think I've often for instance heard these two sounds in one song: the down-and-dirty, feedbacky, "get ready to rock" electric guitar sound at :33 and the siren-like octave accents that chime in around 2:18. They are from two entirely different rock-guitar universes. The Apparitions are a five-man band from Lexington, KY; their second CD, As This Is Futuristic, was released last month on Machine Records. The MP3 is available via the band's site.
"Sonic Parts" - Khoiba
Slow, moody electro-pop from the Prague-based quartet Khoiba (apparently pronounced ko-EE-ba). Listen to how vocalist Ema Brabcova keeps us paradoxically enveloped and off-balance through the purposeful meanderings of the song's subtle yet robust melody. The quiet verse--based around the always lovely alternation between a minor one and major four chord--appears to resist a time signature, which right away tells me that we're dealing with something interesting. (Standard-issue electronica, after all, is all about beats; beats are all about steady time signatures--in other words, a regular, symmetrical rhythm, however fuzzed-up and complicated by programmed effects.) Electronica accents, subtle at first, more up front as the song develops, are therefore used for their aural contributions, not just for their rhythms. Even as the chorus acquires a steadier beat, Brabcova's plaintive, hanging-off-the-beat, fully human voice (listen to how she lets it crack and wobble, softly but definitively, whenever it wants or needs to) dominates almost hypnotically. "Sonic Parts" is a song off the band's debut CD, Nice Traps, released in September on Streetbeat Records. The MP3 is available via the band's site. (Khoiba, by the way, is an invented name, which strikes me as a particularly brilliant move for a band in the Google era.)
"Blue Skies" - the Young Republic
I think it's safe to say that not many rock songs have begun with this particular combination of strings, flute, and drums. It sounds like a small orchestra has arrived to serenade you out your window (and here you didn't even know the sun was out and the flowers were blooming). It's a charming, earnest bit of acoustic fuss and bother, leading right into a quick, lightly-stepping piece of pop, full of expansive melodic lines and grand ensemble energy. Vocalist Julian Saporiti uses his thin, guileless voice with great verve, as if physically buttressed by all the musicians who've agreed to play along. The net effect is a rather precise amalgem of Belle and Sebastian and the Arcade Fire, but only achieved by a band not attempting specifically to sound like that at all. The Young Republic is Boston-based nonet (and how often do I get to use that word?); they once in fact had 11 members, and all are Berkee College of Music students. "Blue Skies" comes from the band's new, eight-song Modern Plays CD. The MP3 is up on the band's site. Thanks to Bruce at Some Velvet Blog for the head's up.
week of Feb. 5-11
"Electricity + Drums" - the Apparitions
From its almost startling, stripped-down, Frank Zappa-meets-the-Stones opening, "Electricity + Drums" picks up full-out rock'n'roll flavor, but with any number of idiosyncratic turns and shifts. I'm particularly enjoying how the song blends the straightahead ambiance of a basic, three-chord rocker while actually sneaking a lot more into its simple-seeming container. The overall sound seems familiar in a rootsy-rocky somewhat-Southern sort of way and yet also slightly off and unusual, like when you dream you're in your own house, and you know it's your own house even as it doesn't look like your house really looks. Stuff keeps happening: different vocalists show up (three of the band members sing), chords modulate, guitars churn and squeak in unexpected combinations (the band also features three guitarists). I don't think I've often for instance heard these two sounds in one song: the down-and-dirty, feedbacky, "get ready to rock" electric guitar sound at :33 and the siren-like octave accents that chime in around 2:18. They are from two entirely different rock-guitar universes. The Apparitions are a five-man band from Lexington, KY; their second CD, As This Is Futuristic, was released last month on Machine Records. The MP3 is available via the band's site.
"Sonic Parts" - Khoiba
Slow, moody electro-pop from the Prague-based quartet Khoiba (apparently pronounced ko-EE-ba). Listen to how vocalist Ema Brabcova keeps us paradoxically enveloped and off-balance through the purposeful meanderings of the song's subtle yet robust melody. The quiet verse--based around the always lovely alternation between a minor one and major four chord--appears to resist a time signature, which right away tells me that we're dealing with something interesting. (Standard-issue electronica, after all, is all about beats; beats are all about steady time signatures--in other words, a regular, symmetrical rhythm, however fuzzed-up and complicated by programmed effects.) Electronica accents, subtle at first, more up front as the song develops, are therefore used for their aural contributions, not just for their rhythms. Even as the chorus acquires a steadier beat, Brabcova's plaintive, hanging-off-the-beat, fully human voice (listen to how she lets it crack and wobble, softly but definitively, whenever it wants or needs to) dominates almost hypnotically. "Sonic Parts" is a song off the band's debut CD, Nice Traps, released in September on Streetbeat Records. The MP3 is available via the band's site. (Khoiba, by the way, is an invented name, which strikes me as a particularly brilliant move for a band in the Google era.)
"Blue Skies" - the Young Republic
I think it's safe to say that not many rock songs have begun with this particular combination of strings, flute, and drums. It sounds like a small orchestra has arrived to serenade you out your window (and here you didn't even know the sun was out and the flowers were blooming). It's a charming, earnest bit of acoustic fuss and bother, leading right into a quick, lightly-stepping piece of pop, full of expansive melodic lines and grand ensemble energy. Vocalist Julian Saporiti uses his thin, guileless voice with great verve, as if physically buttressed by all the musicians who've agreed to play along. The net effect is a rather precise amalgem of Belle and Sebastian and the Arcade Fire, but only achieved by a band not attempting specifically to sound like that at all. The Young Republic is Boston-based nonet (and how often do I get to use that word?); they once in fact had 11 members, and all are Berkee College of Music students. "Blue Skies" comes from the band's new, eight-song Modern Plays CD. The MP3 is up on the band's site. Thanks to Bruce at Some Velvet Blog for the head's up.
Monday, January 30, 2006
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Jan. 29-Feb. 4
"Star Witness" - Neko Case
A mysterious, echoey, and rewarding waltz from the highly-regarded Case, itinerant singer/songwriter and member of the indie "supergroup" the New Pornographers. What depths she hits here all across the board: her voice at once lithe and husky, the subtly indelible melodies, the expert arrangements, and (I always love this) the array of extra touches that round the music out so fetchingly--the amusement-park howl at the beginning, the reverby guitar that accompanies, the organic drum sound, the vivid but elusive lyrics. Case sketches a story I can't quite follow but it doesn't seem to end happily. Don't miss the yodeling leap she takes so unexpectedly and perfectly at around 3:42--just another touch that keeps you both engaged and mystified. There's something in the whole thing, from her vocal presence to the unearthly vibe, that puts me in the mind of the great Syd Straw, from another era of indie/alternative rock--so if any of you know and love Straw I'm pretty sure this is going to be a big winner for you as well. "Star Witness" is a song from Case's forthcoming CD, the intriguingly titled Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, scheduled for release in early March on Anti Records. The MP3 is available via the Anti web site.
"Meet Me Here" - Loveninjas
Every now and then a bit of lo-fi sneaks through the usually lo-fi-resistant gates here. But how could I resist a chorus like this? I couldn't. So perhaps we can all forgive the thin, filtered vocals and tinny electronic percussion that the decidedly offbeat Swedish trio Loveninjas employs on this track to glory in the pop-heavenly melodies. As undeveloped an aural landscape as we've got here, these guys give us the full three-part hook: two different ones in the verse, and then the glory of that killer chorus. Apparently this quirky Swedish outfit specializes in goofy/naughty English lyrics, but this song seems genuinely sweet (although it probably isn't). Apparently, too: "Loveninjas is not really a band. It’s a concept." So says the web site; it continues: "I was playing with a small electronic piano in the autumn of 2004 when a nice melody evolved. 'Sweet Geisha Love' was about the dilemma of a young, female assassin; to kill or to make love. Now that I had a song I figured I might as well start a fake band. I decided on writing about death, sex and Japanese girls only. It’s a good way stimulate creativity." It's signed by a guy named Tor; the three who went on to perform the songs live wear costumes, including ninja-style masks. Sweden is an interesting place. "Meet Me Here" is available via the Loveninjas web site; it's difficult to tell if it's been released on a CD at this point but I'm guessing not.
"Chinese Rug" - Wes McDonald
There's something refreshingly old-fashioned enlivening this low-key but still hard-driving number. Except for some recurring film noir-ish/femme-fatale whispering, nothing unusual goes on here at all: the song just rocks, McDonald pushing it forward with an assured sort of throaty, snarly growl that's one part Steve Earle, one part Graham Parker, one part balding-guy-with-scaggly-hair-in-jeans-who-maybe-looks-like-a-plumber. Seems to me McDonald has Earle's natural ear for a quick melodic hook as well--look how effortlessly the chorus kicks some seriously catchy butt. A refugee from one of the U.S.'s original hotbeds of alternative rock (Athens, Georgia), McDonald lives now in the hotbed of not very much (Birmingham, Alabama). After a stint in a very Athensy "jangle-rock" band called the Ohms, he went on to record three solo CDs without acquiring too wide a following. This time around he's enlisted the help of Ken Coomer, ex- of Wilco and Uncle Tupelo, who helped out with the production, also acquiring a bit of a PR help along the way. Not that there's anything wrong with that: we've gotta hear about this stuff somehow. "Chinese Rug" is a song from the forthcoming CD 1:50 In The Furnace, scheduled for release in April on Skybucket Records.
week of Jan. 29-Feb. 4
"Star Witness" - Neko Case
A mysterious, echoey, and rewarding waltz from the highly-regarded Case, itinerant singer/songwriter and member of the indie "supergroup" the New Pornographers. What depths she hits here all across the board: her voice at once lithe and husky, the subtly indelible melodies, the expert arrangements, and (I always love this) the array of extra touches that round the music out so fetchingly--the amusement-park howl at the beginning, the reverby guitar that accompanies, the organic drum sound, the vivid but elusive lyrics. Case sketches a story I can't quite follow but it doesn't seem to end happily. Don't miss the yodeling leap she takes so unexpectedly and perfectly at around 3:42--just another touch that keeps you both engaged and mystified. There's something in the whole thing, from her vocal presence to the unearthly vibe, that puts me in the mind of the great Syd Straw, from another era of indie/alternative rock--so if any of you know and love Straw I'm pretty sure this is going to be a big winner for you as well. "Star Witness" is a song from Case's forthcoming CD, the intriguingly titled Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, scheduled for release in early March on Anti Records. The MP3 is available via the Anti web site.
"Meet Me Here" - Loveninjas
Every now and then a bit of lo-fi sneaks through the usually lo-fi-resistant gates here. But how could I resist a chorus like this? I couldn't. So perhaps we can all forgive the thin, filtered vocals and tinny electronic percussion that the decidedly offbeat Swedish trio Loveninjas employs on this track to glory in the pop-heavenly melodies. As undeveloped an aural landscape as we've got here, these guys give us the full three-part hook: two different ones in the verse, and then the glory of that killer chorus. Apparently this quirky Swedish outfit specializes in goofy/naughty English lyrics, but this song seems genuinely sweet (although it probably isn't). Apparently, too: "Loveninjas is not really a band. It’s a concept." So says the web site; it continues: "I was playing with a small electronic piano in the autumn of 2004 when a nice melody evolved. 'Sweet Geisha Love' was about the dilemma of a young, female assassin; to kill or to make love. Now that I had a song I figured I might as well start a fake band. I decided on writing about death, sex and Japanese girls only. It’s a good way stimulate creativity." It's signed by a guy named Tor; the three who went on to perform the songs live wear costumes, including ninja-style masks. Sweden is an interesting place. "Meet Me Here" is available via the Loveninjas web site; it's difficult to tell if it's been released on a CD at this point but I'm guessing not.
"Chinese Rug" - Wes McDonald
There's something refreshingly old-fashioned enlivening this low-key but still hard-driving number. Except for some recurring film noir-ish/femme-fatale whispering, nothing unusual goes on here at all: the song just rocks, McDonald pushing it forward with an assured sort of throaty, snarly growl that's one part Steve Earle, one part Graham Parker, one part balding-guy-with-scaggly-hair-in-jeans-who-maybe-looks-like-a-plumber. Seems to me McDonald has Earle's natural ear for a quick melodic hook as well--look how effortlessly the chorus kicks some seriously catchy butt. A refugee from one of the U.S.'s original hotbeds of alternative rock (Athens, Georgia), McDonald lives now in the hotbed of not very much (Birmingham, Alabama). After a stint in a very Athensy "jangle-rock" band called the Ohms, he went on to record three solo CDs without acquiring too wide a following. This time around he's enlisted the help of Ken Coomer, ex- of Wilco and Uncle Tupelo, who helped out with the production, also acquiring a bit of a PR help along the way. Not that there's anything wrong with that: we've gotta hear about this stuff somehow. "Chinese Rug" is a song from the forthcoming CD 1:50 In The Furnace, scheduled for release in April on Skybucket Records.
Monday, January 23, 2006
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Jan. 22-28
"Fraud in the '80s" - Mates of State
For a keyboard-and-drum duo, Mates of State manage to build a warm and involving sound. The key, I think, is their willingness (and ableness) to be truly musical rather than try to hang too much (an entire song) on too little (beats and maybe a short riff); everywhere you turn this song has been fleshed out and thought through--there's genuine meat on its catchy and likable bones. Listen for instance to the central keyboard line in the main part of the introduction: most songs that float a melodic riff like that will run it for two measures and vamp it a while, pounding it into your head until the song actually begins. Here, however, the keyboard is playing an actual melody that extends a full eight measures, leading directly into the start of the verse. Singer/keyboardist Kori Gardner has an upfront but soft-edged voice and sings with a fetching looseness, playing with notes in just the right way, adding flourishes that draw attention to the melody rather than her vocal prowess. I like how the throbbing, Laurie Anderson-ish synthesizer we hear in the song's "pre-intro" returns as the backbone of the bridge that keeps the wonderful chorus at bay until 1:38. Worth the wait, it is, yet even then the song doesn't stop giving; I especially like the deep, rounded sound that kicks in around 3:22, all fuzzy chords, bashy drums, and now the bass is allowed to stretch out a bit after hiding behind the keyboard most of the song. Oh, and I couldn't figure out a smooth way to work this into the song description, but note that Gardner and drummer Jason Hammel are married. "Fraud in the '80s" will be on their forthcoming CD Bring It Back, scheduled for release in March on Barsuk Records. The MP3 is hosted on the Barsuk site.
"Jane is Fat" - Oh No! Oh My!
And sometimes it's one pure thing in a song that slays me, so go figure: in this case it's the way vocalist/guitarist/bassist/etc. Greg Barkley unaccountably, idiosyncratically, and yet irrestistibly stretches out the last syllable at the end of the first line of the verse by ricocheting a fifth up and down and up and down. Against that crisp strumming background it's oddly brilliant. Then notice (well really how will you not notice?) how at the end of the verse (balancing out the bouncing?) he holds just one note far longer than might be expected, or even otherwise desired, given the shrillness of his upper register. The song teeters dangerously on the edge of lo-fi purgatory during what appears to be the chorus, with its unintelligible, sloppy-gang call-and-response and tweeting synthesizer, but, no worries, it holds together thanks largely to the sharp dynamism of the acoustic guitar. There's an extra payoff in the coda following the second chorus, in which Barkley's warbly tenor reveals an unexpected depth and poignancy, against a spaghetti-western guitar line. Don't ask, but it works. Oh No! Oh My! is a trio from Austin, but two of them appear to be living in Nashville now, and they only just recently changed their name from the Jolly Rogers (decidedly less '00s/indie-sounding, huh?). "Jane is Fat" is from a nine-song self-produced CD made available this past October when they were still the Jolly Rogers; the MP3 is available through their as-yet still-pirate-ish web site. Apparently a full-fledged CD is in the works and will be released soon. Thanks to Catbirdseat for the lead.
"Come Up" - Devics
This one's just gorgeous. Don't be deceived by the lounge-like piano and drum sound at the beginning if you don't like a lounge-like piano and drum sound; once singer Sara Lov opens her mouth, we're transported way way beyond surface-level cocktail-hour piffle. Such sweet strong character emerges as Lov breathes music into the words over Dustin O'Halloran's assured touch at the piano; when she arrives at the simple sad sing-along chorus, the piece has acquired a melancholy grandeur not often heard from the indie world. As noted last time Devics were featured here, their music reminds me, admirably, of Over the Rhine: Lov has a lot of Karin Bergquist's aching soul, with a less idiosyncratic timbre, while O'Halloran accompanies her with a sensitivity akin to the great Linford Detweiler. "Come Up" is a track from the L.A.-based duo's next CD Push the Heart, to be released in early March on Filter US Recordings, a label associated with Filter Magazine, which hosts the MP3.
week of Jan. 22-28
"Fraud in the '80s" - Mates of State
For a keyboard-and-drum duo, Mates of State manage to build a warm and involving sound. The key, I think, is their willingness (and ableness) to be truly musical rather than try to hang too much (an entire song) on too little (beats and maybe a short riff); everywhere you turn this song has been fleshed out and thought through--there's genuine meat on its catchy and likable bones. Listen for instance to the central keyboard line in the main part of the introduction: most songs that float a melodic riff like that will run it for two measures and vamp it a while, pounding it into your head until the song actually begins. Here, however, the keyboard is playing an actual melody that extends a full eight measures, leading directly into the start of the verse. Singer/keyboardist Kori Gardner has an upfront but soft-edged voice and sings with a fetching looseness, playing with notes in just the right way, adding flourishes that draw attention to the melody rather than her vocal prowess. I like how the throbbing, Laurie Anderson-ish synthesizer we hear in the song's "pre-intro" returns as the backbone of the bridge that keeps the wonderful chorus at bay until 1:38. Worth the wait, it is, yet even then the song doesn't stop giving; I especially like the deep, rounded sound that kicks in around 3:22, all fuzzy chords, bashy drums, and now the bass is allowed to stretch out a bit after hiding behind the keyboard most of the song. Oh, and I couldn't figure out a smooth way to work this into the song description, but note that Gardner and drummer Jason Hammel are married. "Fraud in the '80s" will be on their forthcoming CD Bring It Back, scheduled for release in March on Barsuk Records. The MP3 is hosted on the Barsuk site.
"Jane is Fat" - Oh No! Oh My!
And sometimes it's one pure thing in a song that slays me, so go figure: in this case it's the way vocalist/guitarist/bassist/etc. Greg Barkley unaccountably, idiosyncratically, and yet irrestistibly stretches out the last syllable at the end of the first line of the verse by ricocheting a fifth up and down and up and down. Against that crisp strumming background it's oddly brilliant. Then notice (well really how will you not notice?) how at the end of the verse (balancing out the bouncing?) he holds just one note far longer than might be expected, or even otherwise desired, given the shrillness of his upper register. The song teeters dangerously on the edge of lo-fi purgatory during what appears to be the chorus, with its unintelligible, sloppy-gang call-and-response and tweeting synthesizer, but, no worries, it holds together thanks largely to the sharp dynamism of the acoustic guitar. There's an extra payoff in the coda following the second chorus, in which Barkley's warbly tenor reveals an unexpected depth and poignancy, against a spaghetti-western guitar line. Don't ask, but it works. Oh No! Oh My! is a trio from Austin, but two of them appear to be living in Nashville now, and they only just recently changed their name from the Jolly Rogers (decidedly less '00s/indie-sounding, huh?). "Jane is Fat" is from a nine-song self-produced CD made available this past October when they were still the Jolly Rogers; the MP3 is available through their as-yet still-pirate-ish web site. Apparently a full-fledged CD is in the works and will be released soon. Thanks to Catbirdseat for the lead.
"Come Up" - Devics
This one's just gorgeous. Don't be deceived by the lounge-like piano and drum sound at the beginning if you don't like a lounge-like piano and drum sound; once singer Sara Lov opens her mouth, we're transported way way beyond surface-level cocktail-hour piffle. Such sweet strong character emerges as Lov breathes music into the words over Dustin O'Halloran's assured touch at the piano; when she arrives at the simple sad sing-along chorus, the piece has acquired a melancholy grandeur not often heard from the indie world. As noted last time Devics were featured here, their music reminds me, admirably, of Over the Rhine: Lov has a lot of Karin Bergquist's aching soul, with a less idiosyncratic timbre, while O'Halloran accompanies her with a sensitivity akin to the great Linford Detweiler. "Come Up" is a track from the L.A.-based duo's next CD Push the Heart, to be released in early March on Filter US Recordings, a label associated with Filter Magazine, which hosts the MP3.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Jan. 15-21
"Ramblin' Man" - Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan
Every now and then, for reasons I can neither understand nor articulate, a swampy, bluesy romp sounds like just the right thing to me. Normally I don't connect to this stuff. In this case, however, I've no doubt that the crazy combination of Mark Lanegan's deep gruffly voice (doesn't he sound like Steve Earle doing a Johnny Cash imitation? sort of?) and Isobel Campbell's quintessential whisper-fairy lilt is too brilliantly odd to overlook. Around this vocal odd couple is built a ghost-town shuffle, complete with a deep twangy guitar, whip crack accents, and, at the perfect moment, a lonesome whistle. Lanegan some may remember as the voice of Screaming Trees, the grunge-pop growlers from Washington state, and sometime member of Queens of the Stone Age; Campbell, from Glasgow, spent six years or so as cellist and vocalist with Belle and Sebastian. Somehow or other they decided to collaborate on an album together and this Hank Williams cover is one of the results. "Ramblin' Man," originally available on an EP at the end of last year, will be on the CD Ballad of the Broken Seas, to be released later this month on V2 Records. The MP3 is available via Better Propaganda.
"Stay" - the Attorneys
If Queen had been a power pop garage band, they might've sounded like this. So it's big and brash and just this side of over the top (Toto wasn't all bad, were they?), but I am genetically unable to resist the kind of chorus this one breaks into, never mind the melodies that lead us there: one four and five chords up the wazoo, it's just irresistible. The Attorneys, a trio from Brooklyn, appear to be gleeful pop ransackers, ready and willing to combine sounds from the '60s, '70s, and '80s (heck, maybe they sneaked the '90s in there too) into one juicy slice of merry bombast, with slashing guitars and histrionic harmonies to spare, all the while careening along that fine line that separates pure pop from ripe cheese. The band has recently self-released its first CD, entitled Sparrow Gardens/Pencil Factory, a 19-song extravaganza divided into what are called two "chapters"; "Stay" leads off the "Pencil Factory" section. The MP3 is hosted via the electronic press release site Sonicbids.com.
"Sleepless" - Philip Fogarty
Okay so this sounds like Peter Gabriel a bit. Maybe a lot. But the more I listen, the more it doesn't matter, for a couple of reasons. First of all, the song positively shines with an austere, semi-minimalist beauty--Fogarty wastes few notes and fewer sounds in creating an aural landscape suffused with tension and yearning. This comes across as not so much a standard song as a meditation around one central motif--the part where he sings "And I'm wide awake"--that happens to be perfectly placed and pitched enough to carry the entire enterprise. After I listened a few times the melody there started to give me the shivers. Listen too for the elegant, chime-like piano punctuations, which deepen the musical effect. The other reason why the Peter Gabriel echo doesn't matter to me is because, well--how many people out there are busy sounding like Peter Gabriel? Pretty much nobody, as everyone seems to be busy trying to sound like the Gang of Four. But come to think of it, Peter Gabriel was putting out a lot of really good music there in the late '70s that was edgy in its own way; he had a lot more to offer than just being your sledgehammer. Fogarty is an Irish musician with one previous CD to his name (1999's Endangered Breed); "Sleepless" is a track off his new Short Stories EP, a digital-only release that came out in December and is available via his web site.
week of Jan. 15-21
"Ramblin' Man" - Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan
Every now and then, for reasons I can neither understand nor articulate, a swampy, bluesy romp sounds like just the right thing to me. Normally I don't connect to this stuff. In this case, however, I've no doubt that the crazy combination of Mark Lanegan's deep gruffly voice (doesn't he sound like Steve Earle doing a Johnny Cash imitation? sort of?) and Isobel Campbell's quintessential whisper-fairy lilt is too brilliantly odd to overlook. Around this vocal odd couple is built a ghost-town shuffle, complete with a deep twangy guitar, whip crack accents, and, at the perfect moment, a lonesome whistle. Lanegan some may remember as the voice of Screaming Trees, the grunge-pop growlers from Washington state, and sometime member of Queens of the Stone Age; Campbell, from Glasgow, spent six years or so as cellist and vocalist with Belle and Sebastian. Somehow or other they decided to collaborate on an album together and this Hank Williams cover is one of the results. "Ramblin' Man," originally available on an EP at the end of last year, will be on the CD Ballad of the Broken Seas, to be released later this month on V2 Records. The MP3 is available via Better Propaganda.
"Stay" - the Attorneys
If Queen had been a power pop garage band, they might've sounded like this. So it's big and brash and just this side of over the top (Toto wasn't all bad, were they?), but I am genetically unable to resist the kind of chorus this one breaks into, never mind the melodies that lead us there: one four and five chords up the wazoo, it's just irresistible. The Attorneys, a trio from Brooklyn, appear to be gleeful pop ransackers, ready and willing to combine sounds from the '60s, '70s, and '80s (heck, maybe they sneaked the '90s in there too) into one juicy slice of merry bombast, with slashing guitars and histrionic harmonies to spare, all the while careening along that fine line that separates pure pop from ripe cheese. The band has recently self-released its first CD, entitled Sparrow Gardens/Pencil Factory, a 19-song extravaganza divided into what are called two "chapters"; "Stay" leads off the "Pencil Factory" section. The MP3 is hosted via the electronic press release site Sonicbids.com.
"Sleepless" - Philip Fogarty
Okay so this sounds like Peter Gabriel a bit. Maybe a lot. But the more I listen, the more it doesn't matter, for a couple of reasons. First of all, the song positively shines with an austere, semi-minimalist beauty--Fogarty wastes few notes and fewer sounds in creating an aural landscape suffused with tension and yearning. This comes across as not so much a standard song as a meditation around one central motif--the part where he sings "And I'm wide awake"--that happens to be perfectly placed and pitched enough to carry the entire enterprise. After I listened a few times the melody there started to give me the shivers. Listen too for the elegant, chime-like piano punctuations, which deepen the musical effect. The other reason why the Peter Gabriel echo doesn't matter to me is because, well--how many people out there are busy sounding like Peter Gabriel? Pretty much nobody, as everyone seems to be busy trying to sound like the Gang of Four. But come to think of it, Peter Gabriel was putting out a lot of really good music there in the late '70s that was edgy in its own way; he had a lot more to offer than just being your sledgehammer. Fogarty is an Irish musician with one previous CD to his name (1999's Endangered Breed); "Sleepless" is a track off his new Short Stories EP, a digital-only release that came out in December and is available via his web site.
Monday, January 09, 2006
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Jan. 8-14
"Robert J." - 13ghosts
At one level this is the sort of comfy-sounding, down-home strummy-guitar song that often does not catch my ear. And yet I know there is a variant of this sort of thing that I like, and "Robert J." from the Birmingham, Alabama-based 13ghosts is a good example of this variant, and I'm sitting and listening and trying my best first to ascertain and then to describe what, to me, separates a non-descript rootsy-country-Americana song from a standout track. The word that arises as I attempt to figure this out is "tension." A song can sound simple and laid-back and yet be suffused with depth and characte--and tension is what makes all the difference. How, in this case, is that tension achieved? From the start we hear a strikingly plain acoustic guitar, upfront and exposed, no rhythm section, no steel guitar accents, and it strikes me that in this case the slower rather than the faster strum sounds more vulnerable, more real--tenser. Likewise singer Brad Armstrong's voice, the next thing we hear, has a vulnerable, semi-breaking sort of warmth that adds tension to the sound. Further, we have the melody, which extends beyond the four measures commonly heard with this sort of strummer--the verse instead rambles on through eight measures, and that lengthening, yes, fosters tension. Even as more instruments enter and the pace picks up, everything stays crisp and precise, which is also come to think of it an aspect of the tension. Finally, the lyrics bring it home, telling a concrete yet also elusive tale, the words balancing between the offhand and the profound: "His fingernails were a mess/All the dirt and promises/he'd been clinging to for so long." "Robert J." is one of 21 songs on 13ghosts' sprawling Cicada CD, which was released locally in the fall of 2004; it was reissued for national release on Skybucket Records in late November 2005. The MP3 is available via the Skybucket site.
"Carly (Goddess of Death)" - the Capes
Spiffy energetic Britpop with that great good combination of skill and goofiness that often separates the wheat from the chaff in this particular corner of the rock'n'roll world. From the sharp, appealing guitar riff in the intro, the song successfully blends an almost-but-not-quite dissonant slash into a delightful pillow of a song. And as for that big fat irresistible hook in the chorus, I'm enjoying it even more for its strong echo of the great old Jam (them again!; see last week's entry) single "Eton Rifles": consciously or not (and remember, non-U.K. visitors, the Jam was truly a huge huge band in England back in the day), the Capes manage to transform what was a menacing melody into something much warmer and fuzzier, and offer a long-awaited musical resolution to the ominous, open-chorded hook the Jam originally created. And not to harp too often on length, but the fact that this one clocks in under three minutes is to me another sign of pop greatness. "Carly" is a song off the Capes' debut CD, Hello, released in October on Hard Soul Records. The MP3s is available via the Hard Soul site.
"At Least Like Melissa" - Sara Culler
Sara Culler first came to my attention through her compelling work on David Fridlund's impressive Amaterasu CD from last year. Apparently she and Fridlund have worked together over there in Sweden for quite a while (she sometimes sang backup vocals with his band David and the Citizens) and are a couple, romantically speaking, as well. Culler has recently started blogging and putting some of her solo songs up online. This is a curious one to be sure, beginning with its off-balance title; Culler is clear to emphasize the "like" and this changes everything doesn't it--it's not a comparison anymore, it's an exhortation, and a somewhat desperate-sounding one if you think about it. The feeling of desperation is borne out both musically and lyrically; the song pivots upon an ongoing interplay between reserve and unhingedness. Me, I'm on board from Culler's first Sinead O'Connor-like bursts of emotion as she spits out single syllables at the end of the first verse, and how that is immediately followed by an overflow of spilling words in the first line of the chorus. Suppressed violence somehow lurks around the edges here--this isn't the quiet gentle thing it might seem. Culler as a solo artist is unsigned; the MP3, hosted via the record label that puts Fridlund's stuff out, is available through her blog.
week of Jan. 8-14
"Robert J." - 13ghosts
At one level this is the sort of comfy-sounding, down-home strummy-guitar song that often does not catch my ear. And yet I know there is a variant of this sort of thing that I like, and "Robert J." from the Birmingham, Alabama-based 13ghosts is a good example of this variant, and I'm sitting and listening and trying my best first to ascertain and then to describe what, to me, separates a non-descript rootsy-country-Americana song from a standout track. The word that arises as I attempt to figure this out is "tension." A song can sound simple and laid-back and yet be suffused with depth and characte--and tension is what makes all the difference. How, in this case, is that tension achieved? From the start we hear a strikingly plain acoustic guitar, upfront and exposed, no rhythm section, no steel guitar accents, and it strikes me that in this case the slower rather than the faster strum sounds more vulnerable, more real--tenser. Likewise singer Brad Armstrong's voice, the next thing we hear, has a vulnerable, semi-breaking sort of warmth that adds tension to the sound. Further, we have the melody, which extends beyond the four measures commonly heard with this sort of strummer--the verse instead rambles on through eight measures, and that lengthening, yes, fosters tension. Even as more instruments enter and the pace picks up, everything stays crisp and precise, which is also come to think of it an aspect of the tension. Finally, the lyrics bring it home, telling a concrete yet also elusive tale, the words balancing between the offhand and the profound: "His fingernails were a mess/All the dirt and promises/he'd been clinging to for so long." "Robert J." is one of 21 songs on 13ghosts' sprawling Cicada CD, which was released locally in the fall of 2004; it was reissued for national release on Skybucket Records in late November 2005. The MP3 is available via the Skybucket site.
"Carly (Goddess of Death)" - the Capes
Spiffy energetic Britpop with that great good combination of skill and goofiness that often separates the wheat from the chaff in this particular corner of the rock'n'roll world. From the sharp, appealing guitar riff in the intro, the song successfully blends an almost-but-not-quite dissonant slash into a delightful pillow of a song. And as for that big fat irresistible hook in the chorus, I'm enjoying it even more for its strong echo of the great old Jam (them again!; see last week's entry) single "Eton Rifles": consciously or not (and remember, non-U.K. visitors, the Jam was truly a huge huge band in England back in the day), the Capes manage to transform what was a menacing melody into something much warmer and fuzzier, and offer a long-awaited musical resolution to the ominous, open-chorded hook the Jam originally created. And not to harp too often on length, but the fact that this one clocks in under three minutes is to me another sign of pop greatness. "Carly" is a song off the Capes' debut CD, Hello, released in October on Hard Soul Records. The MP3s is available via the Hard Soul site.
"At Least Like Melissa" - Sara Culler
Sara Culler first came to my attention through her compelling work on David Fridlund's impressive Amaterasu CD from last year. Apparently she and Fridlund have worked together over there in Sweden for quite a while (she sometimes sang backup vocals with his band David and the Citizens) and are a couple, romantically speaking, as well. Culler has recently started blogging and putting some of her solo songs up online. This is a curious one to be sure, beginning with its off-balance title; Culler is clear to emphasize the "like" and this changes everything doesn't it--it's not a comparison anymore, it's an exhortation, and a somewhat desperate-sounding one if you think about it. The feeling of desperation is borne out both musically and lyrically; the song pivots upon an ongoing interplay between reserve and unhingedness. Me, I'm on board from Culler's first Sinead O'Connor-like bursts of emotion as she spits out single syllables at the end of the first verse, and how that is immediately followed by an overflow of spilling words in the first line of the chorus. Suppressed violence somehow lurks around the edges here--this isn't the quiet gentle thing it might seem. Culler as a solo artist is unsigned; the MP3, hosted via the record label that puts Fridlund's stuff out, is available through her blog.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Jan. 1-7
"Court Report" - Little Man Tate
Borrowing something basic and anthemic from the Jam and their progeny (Blur in particular), Little Man Tate is not however content being simply mod or neo-mod; instead, this Sheffield foursome draws satisfyingly from rock'n'roll's many decades--I hear an unexpected shot of late '60s/early '70s blues-rock in the mix as well as the itchier, garage-y bashings prevalent here in the mid-'00s. And yet check out the lyrics: "Well he's a cross dresser honey, he fights for his team/He dishes out a kickin' with a thong under his jeans/He's a cross dresser honey and it don't seem right." The song manages to capture the goofy-poignant-violent goings-on with unexpected finesse, from the barroom harmonies finishing the lyric "Switches channels to Eastenders/Cleans his house in his red suspenders" to the pitch-perfect, Paul Wellerian way the words "skinhead cross dresser caught" scans in the chorus. Named, I suppose, after the wonderful 1991 Jodie Foster movie of the same name, Little Man Tate is unsigned and as yet without even a self-released EP or CD; "Court Report" is one of eight free and legal MP3s the band has available on its web site.
"Blood and Marrow" - Amandine
This song's slow sad accordion-laced swing puts me in the mind of the Band, as does the tune's intriguingly timeless sound. Lyrics about fathers and mothers and blood and mourning deepen the effect gracefully. Amandine is a Swedish quartet featuring not only guitars and drums but glockenspiel, trumpet, and theremin (!) along with the evocative accordion, and yet truly one of the best instruments on display is Olof Gidlöf's tender high tenor, which sounds at once firm and fragile, weaving in and out of the spotlight with the other distinctive sounds. Nothing happens in a hurry, and nothing sounds unusual if you're seeking sheer novelty; what is, however, unusual is how Amandine does not confuse restraint with boredom, or vice-versa. The song moves slowly, but it does move: chords change, melodies unfold, there are hooks and climaxes and knowing touches throughout. "Blood and Marrow" can be found on the band's debut CD, This Is Where Our Hearts Collide, released in November on Fat Cat Records, a British label with a penchant for signing Scandanavian bands. The MP3 is hosted on the band's site. Thanks to Thomas Bartlett at Salon for the lead here.
"America's Boy" - Broadcast
On the surface "America's Boy" seems the sort of groove-based song I don't readily connect to, as I tend to keep hankering for a sturdier melody to keep me happy. And yet there was something here that piqued my interest from the outset--first and foremost the soaring, New Order-ish synthesizer line, and how it is immediately complicated on the one hand by its specifically changing character (as it reaches its full interval--a sixth, I think--it morphs into something vast and choral-like) and on the other hand by the starchy, blippy way the electronics are continually stretched and scratched out of their pure tones into something harsher and yet also more compelling. Vocalist Trish Keenan's appealing voice--somewhat but not completely deadpan--doesn't float on top as much as find itself sandwiched in between the semi-heavenly synthesizer above and the semi-deranged clockwork electronica below; the effect is at once earthier and weirder than standard-issue electronica. The song's single-like length--a brisk 3:34--is another thing that gives me a pop hand-hold through some of the oddness. Once a quintet, Broadcast is now a duo, just Keenan and bassist James Cargill; "America's Boy" is a song off their Tender Buttons CD, released in August 2005 on Warp Records. The MP3 is available via Insound.
week of Jan. 1-7
"Court Report" - Little Man Tate
Borrowing something basic and anthemic from the Jam and their progeny (Blur in particular), Little Man Tate is not however content being simply mod or neo-mod; instead, this Sheffield foursome draws satisfyingly from rock'n'roll's many decades--I hear an unexpected shot of late '60s/early '70s blues-rock in the mix as well as the itchier, garage-y bashings prevalent here in the mid-'00s. And yet check out the lyrics: "Well he's a cross dresser honey, he fights for his team/He dishes out a kickin' with a thong under his jeans/He's a cross dresser honey and it don't seem right." The song manages to capture the goofy-poignant-violent goings-on with unexpected finesse, from the barroom harmonies finishing the lyric "Switches channels to Eastenders/Cleans his house in his red suspenders" to the pitch-perfect, Paul Wellerian way the words "skinhead cross dresser caught" scans in the chorus. Named, I suppose, after the wonderful 1991 Jodie Foster movie of the same name, Little Man Tate is unsigned and as yet without even a self-released EP or CD; "Court Report" is one of eight free and legal MP3s the band has available on its web site.
"Blood and Marrow" - Amandine
This song's slow sad accordion-laced swing puts me in the mind of the Band, as does the tune's intriguingly timeless sound. Lyrics about fathers and mothers and blood and mourning deepen the effect gracefully. Amandine is a Swedish quartet featuring not only guitars and drums but glockenspiel, trumpet, and theremin (!) along with the evocative accordion, and yet truly one of the best instruments on display is Olof Gidlöf's tender high tenor, which sounds at once firm and fragile, weaving in and out of the spotlight with the other distinctive sounds. Nothing happens in a hurry, and nothing sounds unusual if you're seeking sheer novelty; what is, however, unusual is how Amandine does not confuse restraint with boredom, or vice-versa. The song moves slowly, but it does move: chords change, melodies unfold, there are hooks and climaxes and knowing touches throughout. "Blood and Marrow" can be found on the band's debut CD, This Is Where Our Hearts Collide, released in November on Fat Cat Records, a British label with a penchant for signing Scandanavian bands. The MP3 is hosted on the band's site. Thanks to Thomas Bartlett at Salon for the lead here.
"America's Boy" - Broadcast
On the surface "America's Boy" seems the sort of groove-based song I don't readily connect to, as I tend to keep hankering for a sturdier melody to keep me happy. And yet there was something here that piqued my interest from the outset--first and foremost the soaring, New Order-ish synthesizer line, and how it is immediately complicated on the one hand by its specifically changing character (as it reaches its full interval--a sixth, I think--it morphs into something vast and choral-like) and on the other hand by the starchy, blippy way the electronics are continually stretched and scratched out of their pure tones into something harsher and yet also more compelling. Vocalist Trish Keenan's appealing voice--somewhat but not completely deadpan--doesn't float on top as much as find itself sandwiched in between the semi-heavenly synthesizer above and the semi-deranged clockwork electronica below; the effect is at once earthier and weirder than standard-issue electronica. The song's single-like length--a brisk 3:34--is another thing that gives me a pop hand-hold through some of the oddness. Once a quintet, Broadcast is now a duo, just Keenan and bassist James Cargill; "America's Boy" is a song off their Tender Buttons CD, released in August 2005 on Warp Records. The MP3 is available via Insound.
Monday, December 19, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Dec. 18-24
Fingertips will be taking a break for the HOLIDAYS (there are more than one, you know!--Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, New Year's Day, you name it); this is therefore the last "This Week's Finds" update for 2005. When next we meet again it will be Tuesday, January 3, of all things. In the spirit of the season, I offer an extra song this week. Hope all is sweet and peachy with all of you as this mostexcellent interesting year winds down and yet another begins. See you in '06....
"Smile" - Stone Jack Jones
Spacey, melancholy, arty folktronica: Leonard Cohen meets Portishead at Laurie Anderson's house. When it comes to the sort of noodly atmospherics employed in this nutty little song, I know that it's hard to differentiate cool/noodly from dumb/noodly--I mean, is the wavery, spitty sort of trumpet meandering in the background a stroke of genius or completely random? The answer is probably both, which doesn't help. One of the ways I see my way through foggy aesthetics like this is to latch onto small moments, and if there are enough of them in a given song, I presume the whole thing is working. The small moments here include: the simple, plaintive piano refrain that holds the structure of the song up; the first line of the song (I love songs with great first lines): "Let's pretend this is an opening/Let's pretend this is a door"; the aforementioned trumpet; the deadpan female backup vocals; the construction-site percussion; and the fact that the song sounds exactly like the opposite of a smile, and yet simultaneously manages to provoke one, somehow. Stone Jack Jones is a musician from Nashville who's been taken under the wing of producer Roger Moutenot (Yo La Tengo, Sleater-Kinney). "Smile" is from his forthcoming CD, Bluefolk, to be released in February on Fictitious Records. The MP3 is available via Jones' MySpace.com page.
"Air" - the Owls
Sweet floating misery in pop form from a Minneapolis-based foursome. I'll admit to being something of a sucker for list-like lyrics; in this case songwriter Maria May appears to be free-associating her way through heartbreak; when she gets to "No header, no footer/No girl, no boy," I am charmed for good. ("No hand to put my handshake in": also charming.) "There is only air/Where I used to care," which is the lyric in the chorus, is by the way a pretty powerful way of communicating post-breakup malaise. While normally I might feel the need for a bit more development in a song than this truly airy number offers, on the other hand, I could probably rationalize why the breezy repetition is thematically appropriate. Or something like that. I also really like the disconcertingly unusual use of male backing vocals under a female lead; why isn't this appealing sound used more often? "Air" is from an eight-song EP entitled Our Hopes and Dreams, released last year on Magic Marker Records. The MP3 is available via the Magic Marker site.
"My Kingdom for a Trundle Bed" - Bound Stems
A jaunty, toothsome bit of complex pop from an interesting quintet from Chicago. The vague, lightly swinging intro barely hints at the muscular, tumbly song to follow. I like how the melody is at once central and changeable: the way the words pump out with an ahead-of-the-beat syncopation, the exact notes changing verse to verse even as the overall melodic essence is strong and sure. And lots of words there are indeed, in a relatively short song; and while the meaning is elusive, and while I don't often get all that caught up in puzzling lyrics out, in this case they seem worthy and intriguing and appear to add up to a bittersweet tale of a broken relationship--which I intuit largely from adding the title to the lyrics (it would seem the narrator has to sleep on the floor for the night in his ex's apartment). "My Kingdom for a Trundle Bed" is a song from the EP The Logic of Building the Body Plan, released last month on Flameshovel Records. The MP3 is from the Flameshovel site. (Be aware that the song cuts off a bit abruptly at the end.)
"I Feel Like a Fading Light" - Kim Taylor
With a voice mixing Ricki Lee Jones and Karin Bergquist (Over the Rhine), Kim Taylor wins me over with this simple, lo-fi strummer-with-an-attitude. Given the sort of year we've all had, this seems about the most appropriate seasonal song I could offer, even as it's not actually a seasonal song at all. I love how the Florida-born, Cincinnati-based Taylor subverts the girl-with-guitar model with such an insistent, percussive number; even the guitar has an upfront, twang-ish but not really twangy sound that exudes tension rather than easy listening--even as, at the same time, the melody is comfortably catchy, her sweet-weary voice a wonderful instrument in and of itself. This is not standard singer/songwriter mush, and the world is a better place for it. "I Feel Like a Fading Light" was released as a single in August, and is available via Taylor's web site. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the head's up. Merry Christmas to all ("whether you celebrate it or not," as per The Daily Show) and to all a good night.
week of Dec. 18-24
Fingertips will be taking a break for the HOLIDAYS (there are more than one, you know!--Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, New Year's Day, you name it); this is therefore the last "This Week's Finds" update for 2005. When next we meet again it will be Tuesday, January 3, of all things. In the spirit of the season, I offer an extra song this week. Hope all is sweet and peachy with all of you as this most
"Smile" - Stone Jack Jones
Spacey, melancholy, arty folktronica: Leonard Cohen meets Portishead at Laurie Anderson's house. When it comes to the sort of noodly atmospherics employed in this nutty little song, I know that it's hard to differentiate cool/noodly from dumb/noodly--I mean, is the wavery, spitty sort of trumpet meandering in the background a stroke of genius or completely random? The answer is probably both, which doesn't help. One of the ways I see my way through foggy aesthetics like this is to latch onto small moments, and if there are enough of them in a given song, I presume the whole thing is working. The small moments here include: the simple, plaintive piano refrain that holds the structure of the song up; the first line of the song (I love songs with great first lines): "Let's pretend this is an opening/Let's pretend this is a door"; the aforementioned trumpet; the deadpan female backup vocals; the construction-site percussion; and the fact that the song sounds exactly like the opposite of a smile, and yet simultaneously manages to provoke one, somehow. Stone Jack Jones is a musician from Nashville who's been taken under the wing of producer Roger Moutenot (Yo La Tengo, Sleater-Kinney). "Smile" is from his forthcoming CD, Bluefolk, to be released in February on Fictitious Records. The MP3 is available via Jones' MySpace.com page.
"Air" - the Owls
Sweet floating misery in pop form from a Minneapolis-based foursome. I'll admit to being something of a sucker for list-like lyrics; in this case songwriter Maria May appears to be free-associating her way through heartbreak; when she gets to "No header, no footer/No girl, no boy," I am charmed for good. ("No hand to put my handshake in": also charming.) "There is only air/Where I used to care," which is the lyric in the chorus, is by the way a pretty powerful way of communicating post-breakup malaise. While normally I might feel the need for a bit more development in a song than this truly airy number offers, on the other hand, I could probably rationalize why the breezy repetition is thematically appropriate. Or something like that. I also really like the disconcertingly unusual use of male backing vocals under a female lead; why isn't this appealing sound used more often? "Air" is from an eight-song EP entitled Our Hopes and Dreams, released last year on Magic Marker Records. The MP3 is available via the Magic Marker site.
"My Kingdom for a Trundle Bed" - Bound Stems
A jaunty, toothsome bit of complex pop from an interesting quintet from Chicago. The vague, lightly swinging intro barely hints at the muscular, tumbly song to follow. I like how the melody is at once central and changeable: the way the words pump out with an ahead-of-the-beat syncopation, the exact notes changing verse to verse even as the overall melodic essence is strong and sure. And lots of words there are indeed, in a relatively short song; and while the meaning is elusive, and while I don't often get all that caught up in puzzling lyrics out, in this case they seem worthy and intriguing and appear to add up to a bittersweet tale of a broken relationship--which I intuit largely from adding the title to the lyrics (it would seem the narrator has to sleep on the floor for the night in his ex's apartment). "My Kingdom for a Trundle Bed" is a song from the EP The Logic of Building the Body Plan, released last month on Flameshovel Records. The MP3 is from the Flameshovel site. (Be aware that the song cuts off a bit abruptly at the end.)
"I Feel Like a Fading Light" - Kim Taylor
With a voice mixing Ricki Lee Jones and Karin Bergquist (Over the Rhine), Kim Taylor wins me over with this simple, lo-fi strummer-with-an-attitude. Given the sort of year we've all had, this seems about the most appropriate seasonal song I could offer, even as it's not actually a seasonal song at all. I love how the Florida-born, Cincinnati-based Taylor subverts the girl-with-guitar model with such an insistent, percussive number; even the guitar has an upfront, twang-ish but not really twangy sound that exudes tension rather than easy listening--even as, at the same time, the melody is comfortably catchy, her sweet-weary voice a wonderful instrument in and of itself. This is not standard singer/songwriter mush, and the world is a better place for it. "I Feel Like a Fading Light" was released as a single in August, and is available via Taylor's web site. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the head's up. Merry Christmas to all ("whether you celebrate it or not," as per The Daily Show) and to all a good night.
Monday, December 12, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Dec. 11-17
"Nervous" - Tessitura
Jonathan Williams sings in a warm, buzzy voice, rendered warmer and buzzier by his fetching tendency to sing in octave harmonies with himself. He further accompanies himself with clean, patient acoustic guitar licks; there's something of Pink Floyd's stately acoustic side in the air here, particularly when Williams spins out a line with such a haunting convergence of melody and lyric as this one: "Even in a dream/Things could seem far too real." There, I think, we arrive at the song's center of gravity, its point of pure allurement--it's not just the nice chord he reaches on the word dream, it's the way the word "dream" stretches out almost unaccountably, with a mysterious, standing-still sort of rising and falling. This is a real song, not just a guy with a nice voice strumming a nice guitar. (Not enough people these days seem to be able to differentiate between beautiful-sounding and actually beautiful, says me, and there we are yet again back at Ives' great distinction between manner and substance, but I'll steer clear of that particular soapbox for now.) Tessitura is a side project for Williams, who is otherwise a member of the fine, endearingly-named Cincinnati-based ensemble The Spectacular Fantastic. "Nervous" is a song on a new free-to-download split single featuring both bands; it can also be found on Tessitura's recently released free-to-download full-length CD, On the Importance of Being Confused.
"Juicebox" - the Strokes
Why does this 3:17 second song, with its hard-driving "Peter Gunn"-ish intro, seem so hard to get a handle on, intermittently harsh and irritating, and yet so simultaneously compelling? It's not just because singer Julian Casablancas is singing without the filter he put his voice through to create the band's trademark sound on their first two CDs; and it's also not just because he spends a bit of time actually sort of screeching. What I think is going on here is the result of an unusual songwriting effect: the melody undergoes a series of purposeful time shifts so that in each of the first three sections of the song, Casablancas is singing half as fast as the previous section. (When this is done at all, it tends to be done only with two sections rather than three.) Then, after the slowest of the three, he doubles back to the middle pace, and that's where the song hits its stride and delivers its best hook (the Stones-copping "You're so cold" part) and coolest moments (the subsequent guitar solo). If you don't tune in to the time trick, you might hear this song as more disjointed than it actually is; that "Juicebox" is disjointed at best and dreadful at worst is certainly what most online critics have decided, because it's never their job to assume that a band actually knows more about music than they do. "Juicebox" is the first free download from the band's upcoming CD First Impressions of Earth, their third, due out January 3 on RCA Records. Thanks to the gang at Glorious Noise for the lead on this one.
"Rise Up With Fists!" - Jenny Lewis
Jenny Lewis's vocal charisma is a powerful powerful thing. She's got that hyper-present Debby Harry sort of open-mouthed fullness, a way of singing that sounds like she's just talking; and yet where Harry used a constant sheen of icy irony to keep her distance, Lewis, while still keeping her distance, seems infused with some messy mixture of pain and passion that makes it feel like she's always right there in the room with you. After hitting the indie big-time last year with her band, Rilo Kiley, and their assured, well-regarded More Adventurous CD, Lewis has in fact sought the additional adventure of releasing a solo CD--called Rabbit Fur Coat, it's due for release in January on Conor Oberst's Team Love Records. As this track indicates, the album is steeped in a sort of rootsy, countrified, white-woman-soul sound: a Laura Nyro for the new millennium sort of thing, complete with the Kentucky-born Watson Twins harmonizing their hearts out in the background. The MP3 is available via the Team Love site.Thanks once more to Bruce at Some Velvet Blog for the head's up.
week of Dec. 11-17
"Nervous" - Tessitura
Jonathan Williams sings in a warm, buzzy voice, rendered warmer and buzzier by his fetching tendency to sing in octave harmonies with himself. He further accompanies himself with clean, patient acoustic guitar licks; there's something of Pink Floyd's stately acoustic side in the air here, particularly when Williams spins out a line with such a haunting convergence of melody and lyric as this one: "Even in a dream/Things could seem far too real." There, I think, we arrive at the song's center of gravity, its point of pure allurement--it's not just the nice chord he reaches on the word dream, it's the way the word "dream" stretches out almost unaccountably, with a mysterious, standing-still sort of rising and falling. This is a real song, not just a guy with a nice voice strumming a nice guitar. (Not enough people these days seem to be able to differentiate between beautiful-sounding and actually beautiful, says me, and there we are yet again back at Ives' great distinction between manner and substance, but I'll steer clear of that particular soapbox for now.) Tessitura is a side project for Williams, who is otherwise a member of the fine, endearingly-named Cincinnati-based ensemble The Spectacular Fantastic. "Nervous" is a song on a new free-to-download split single featuring both bands; it can also be found on Tessitura's recently released free-to-download full-length CD, On the Importance of Being Confused.
"Juicebox" - the Strokes
Why does this 3:17 second song, with its hard-driving "Peter Gunn"-ish intro, seem so hard to get a handle on, intermittently harsh and irritating, and yet so simultaneously compelling? It's not just because singer Julian Casablancas is singing without the filter he put his voice through to create the band's trademark sound on their first two CDs; and it's also not just because he spends a bit of time actually sort of screeching. What I think is going on here is the result of an unusual songwriting effect: the melody undergoes a series of purposeful time shifts so that in each of the first three sections of the song, Casablancas is singing half as fast as the previous section. (When this is done at all, it tends to be done only with two sections rather than three.) Then, after the slowest of the three, he doubles back to the middle pace, and that's where the song hits its stride and delivers its best hook (the Stones-copping "You're so cold" part) and coolest moments (the subsequent guitar solo). If you don't tune in to the time trick, you might hear this song as more disjointed than it actually is; that "Juicebox" is disjointed at best and dreadful at worst is certainly what most online critics have decided, because it's never their job to assume that a band actually knows more about music than they do. "Juicebox" is the first free download from the band's upcoming CD First Impressions of Earth, their third, due out January 3 on RCA Records. Thanks to the gang at Glorious Noise for the lead on this one.
"Rise Up With Fists!" - Jenny Lewis
Jenny Lewis's vocal charisma is a powerful powerful thing. She's got that hyper-present Debby Harry sort of open-mouthed fullness, a way of singing that sounds like she's just talking; and yet where Harry used a constant sheen of icy irony to keep her distance, Lewis, while still keeping her distance, seems infused with some messy mixture of pain and passion that makes it feel like she's always right there in the room with you. After hitting the indie big-time last year with her band, Rilo Kiley, and their assured, well-regarded More Adventurous CD, Lewis has in fact sought the additional adventure of releasing a solo CD--called Rabbit Fur Coat, it's due for release in January on Conor Oberst's Team Love Records. As this track indicates, the album is steeped in a sort of rootsy, countrified, white-woman-soul sound: a Laura Nyro for the new millennium sort of thing, complete with the Kentucky-born Watson Twins harmonizing their hearts out in the background. The MP3 is available via the Team Love site.Thanks once more to Bruce at Some Velvet Blog for the head's up.
Monday, December 05, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Dec. 4-10
"In State" - Kathleen Edwards
If you already know Kathleen Edwards, you'll be pleased to discover that she's recently made ten full songs, five from each of her two CDs, available on her web site as free and legal MP3s. If you don't already know her, use the opportunity to rectify the situation pronto. While Edwards is often compared, logically enough, to Lucinda Williams (the sweet-rough voice, the alt-country-americana vibe), what slayed me when I first heard her mighty first CD, Failer (2003), was how much she channeled Neil Young in his Crazy Horse mode. You maybe didn't expect it from a skinny 25-year-old from Ottawa; then again, as I've discovered time and again, do not underestimate Canada as an endless source of powerful music. The revelatory "In State," its muscular Tom Petty-ish-ness lit up by Edwards' heart-melting voice and a ripping arrangement, is the opening track on her excellent follow-up release, Back to Me, which came out earlier this year on Zoe Records (a subsidiary of Rounder Records). If I were inclined to make year-end best-of lists, it's a CD that would be in my top 10. Many thanks to Pop Matters for the lead on the new MP3 stash.
"I Will Always Find A Way" - Suffering and the Hideous Thieves
What an elusive vibe suffuses this song: it seems one part late '70s punk-turning-into-new-wave, one part '00s orchestral-indie-construction, and one part musician-from-another-planet epic. With its slow, swaying rhythm, "I Will Always Find A Way" makes the most of an exceedingly simple core riff (we're talking do-re-mi-re-mi-re) by handing it to a loose-limbed ensemble mixing strings, drums, keyboards, and goofy background vocals. Band leader Jeff Suffering has a British-sounding, congestive sort of wail that is oddly appealing, particularly when he goes off-key, which appears to be part of his vocal strategy. As for the burning question--is this his real name, really?--I can report that he does seem to take the name rather literally, both within his songs and without. "I've been wishfully thinking of leaving you/Since the day that we met" are the first words we hear him sing, with what appears to be a characteristic blend of sorrow and defiance. The record company's bio, in turn, quotes Suffering this way: "As of now, we will continue to put out obscure releases until the Lord comes back, or until we die, or can't rock anymore." "I Will Always Find A Way" is from the band's Ashamed CD, released in August on Lujo Records. Thanks to Jason at Mystery and Misery for this one.
"Another Sunny Day" - Belle and Sebastian
As charmingly twee and enigmatic as ever, Belle and Sebastian is back with a brisk, wonderfully melodic tune tinged with a slight, speeded-up country and western veneer, or as much of one as this eccentric Scottish band is likely to give us. Regardless of what he's singing about (often impossible to discern precisely), front man Stuart Murdoch--his high voice at once pure and reedy--almost always sounds laden with unbearable nostalgia for some far-off time and place that is only reachable via a rabbit hole or a wardrobe or some such magical portal. Here Murdoch delivers a voluptuous melody line most effortlessly: the entire verse is an extended melody, all 16 measures of it (compare that to standard pop songs, with their four-measure melodies at best). The shift in melody and chord that happens at the seventh measure wollops me in the gut every time (in the first verse, it's the shift that happens on the word "pardon" in the line "I told you, 'Beg your pardon'"); we move there into a second minor chord that cracks the song open--listen to how deeply inevitable the rest of the verse sounds, even as it's only half over at that point. And while you're at it, check out the nutty double-time snare beat the drummer offers up during the instrumental break at 2:24, just because it's nutty. "Another Sunny Day" is a song that will be on the band's next CD, The Life Pursuit, scheduled for release in February on Matador Records. The MP3 is available, somewhat secretively, via the Matador site. Thanks this time to Some Velvet Blog for the lead.
week of Dec. 4-10
"In State" - Kathleen Edwards
If you already know Kathleen Edwards, you'll be pleased to discover that she's recently made ten full songs, five from each of her two CDs, available on her web site as free and legal MP3s. If you don't already know her, use the opportunity to rectify the situation pronto. While Edwards is often compared, logically enough, to Lucinda Williams (the sweet-rough voice, the alt-country-americana vibe), what slayed me when I first heard her mighty first CD, Failer (2003), was how much she channeled Neil Young in his Crazy Horse mode. You maybe didn't expect it from a skinny 25-year-old from Ottawa; then again, as I've discovered time and again, do not underestimate Canada as an endless source of powerful music. The revelatory "In State," its muscular Tom Petty-ish-ness lit up by Edwards' heart-melting voice and a ripping arrangement, is the opening track on her excellent follow-up release, Back to Me, which came out earlier this year on Zoe Records (a subsidiary of Rounder Records). If I were inclined to make year-end best-of lists, it's a CD that would be in my top 10. Many thanks to Pop Matters for the lead on the new MP3 stash.
"I Will Always Find A Way" - Suffering and the Hideous Thieves
What an elusive vibe suffuses this song: it seems one part late '70s punk-turning-into-new-wave, one part '00s orchestral-indie-construction, and one part musician-from-another-planet epic. With its slow, swaying rhythm, "I Will Always Find A Way" makes the most of an exceedingly simple core riff (we're talking do-re-mi-re-mi-re) by handing it to a loose-limbed ensemble mixing strings, drums, keyboards, and goofy background vocals. Band leader Jeff Suffering has a British-sounding, congestive sort of wail that is oddly appealing, particularly when he goes off-key, which appears to be part of his vocal strategy. As for the burning question--is this his real name, really?--I can report that he does seem to take the name rather literally, both within his songs and without. "I've been wishfully thinking of leaving you/Since the day that we met" are the first words we hear him sing, with what appears to be a characteristic blend of sorrow and defiance. The record company's bio, in turn, quotes Suffering this way: "As of now, we will continue to put out obscure releases until the Lord comes back, or until we die, or can't rock anymore." "I Will Always Find A Way" is from the band's Ashamed CD, released in August on Lujo Records. Thanks to Jason at Mystery and Misery for this one.
"Another Sunny Day" - Belle and Sebastian
As charmingly twee and enigmatic as ever, Belle and Sebastian is back with a brisk, wonderfully melodic tune tinged with a slight, speeded-up country and western veneer, or as much of one as this eccentric Scottish band is likely to give us. Regardless of what he's singing about (often impossible to discern precisely), front man Stuart Murdoch--his high voice at once pure and reedy--almost always sounds laden with unbearable nostalgia for some far-off time and place that is only reachable via a rabbit hole or a wardrobe or some such magical portal. Here Murdoch delivers a voluptuous melody line most effortlessly: the entire verse is an extended melody, all 16 measures of it (compare that to standard pop songs, with their four-measure melodies at best). The shift in melody and chord that happens at the seventh measure wollops me in the gut every time (in the first verse, it's the shift that happens on the word "pardon" in the line "I told you, 'Beg your pardon'"); we move there into a second minor chord that cracks the song open--listen to how deeply inevitable the rest of the verse sounds, even as it's only half over at that point. And while you're at it, check out the nutty double-time snare beat the drummer offers up during the instrumental break at 2:24, just because it's nutty. "Another Sunny Day" is a song that will be on the band's next CD, The Life Pursuit, scheduled for release in February on Matador Records. The MP3 is available, somewhat secretively, via the Matador site. Thanks this time to Some Velvet Blog for the lead.
Monday, November 28, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Nov. 27-Dec. 3
"Look At Her Face" - the Coral Sea
A terrifically put together song from a Santa Barbara-based band with a good-looking future. Offering dynamics legitimately deserving of the overused adjective "cinematic," the Coral Sea melds musical elements from a number of different decades, or maybe even centuries, to create an artfully assembled space that feels both layered and airy. The sense of urgency pervading the opening section is driven largely by the pulsings of a string quartet, of all things; when a simple, resonant piano line enters at 1:28, the song opens up magnificently, achieving a U2-esque grandeur even as singer/songwriter Rey Villalobos, with his sweet, pitch-perfect pop voice, keeps the enterprise rooted on earth rather than in the heavens somewhere. The son of a cinematographer (ah!), Villalobos is a classically-trained musician who lists Chopin among his influences; easier ones to pick out here might be the Beatles (John Lennon in particular), the Moody Blues, the Pixies, and Bends-era Radiohead, and yet this doesn't really sound like any of them. "Look At Her Face" is the opening song on the band's debut CD, Volcano and Heart, self-released under the Red Clover Records imprint in July. The MP3 is hosted on the band's site. Thanks to the gang at 3hive for the lead.
"Number One" - Catlow
Wielding no obvious sonic gimmicks, no "listen to me, I'm different!" antics, Natasha Thirsk, doing business as Catlow, has crafted a remarkably unformulaic piece of punchy, three-minute neo-'90s guitar pop. From the opening, off-beat crunch of the guitar, the off-kilter entry of the bass, and the restrained drumbeat, the song manages to feel both march-like and arhythmic. Hooks come and go before they settle in, as if seen from the aural equivalent of the corner of the eye. Listen for instance to the descending riff heard first in the introduction (11 seconds in): it kind of melts in on itself, describing a slippery series of diminishments that are quickly folded into the stuttering drive, leaving you not quite sure what you heard and whether it even made sense or not. This riff, however, recurs, and becomes its own sort of mysterious hook when Thirsk works it into the melody at the end of each line of verse (the "I am I am I am" part in the first verse). The chorus, in turn, is even more elusively catchy, with the clipped stop-start-ishness of the crunchy guitar and its lack of melodic lines to hang onto; what we get instead is Thirsk's light but powerful voice reaching successive climaxes before retreating in a sort of syncopated wave, falling then rising towards an unexpected chord that manages to lead us back to the verse without a traditional resolution. Thirsk comes from Vancouver, and gained a following late in the '90s and into the new decade with her former band, the Dirtmitts. "Number One" is the lead track on Catlow's debut CD, Kiss the World, released earlier this year in Canada on Boompa Records. The MP3 is via the Boompa site.
"Miles" - the Southland
Styles and tendencies in rock'n'roll tend to change pretty gradually when all is said and done, the definitive sound or sounds of one era blending seamlessly into another, and only emerging as definitive in retrospect--it's much easier, as an example, to talk about a "'90s sound" now than it was back when we were living through it. And so the '00s (more than half over already!) may seem so far to have produced a difficult-to-generalize sort of sound to date--particularly as there is by now such a longer and richer musical history for rock bands to be inspired by. I contend, however, that some characteristic sounds are emerging and this able and spiffy tune by a new L.A. band called the Southland pretty much nails one of them exquisitely. With its bedroom-rock-style mixture of acoustic and beat rhythms, "Miles" is not a song that could possibly have been produced in the '60s or '70s or '80s or '90s. I'm not saying this is gloriously original; actually the point is that it isn't--but it is enormously characteristic, and beautifully crafted. What wins me is the memorable chorus, with its bittersweet melody and that great, marshmallowy slide-guitar lick. "Miles" is a song from the Southland's debut CD, Influence of Geography, released in June on Ruffworld Records. The MP3 is via the Ruffworld site.
week of Nov. 27-Dec. 3
"Look At Her Face" - the Coral Sea
A terrifically put together song from a Santa Barbara-based band with a good-looking future. Offering dynamics legitimately deserving of the overused adjective "cinematic," the Coral Sea melds musical elements from a number of different decades, or maybe even centuries, to create an artfully assembled space that feels both layered and airy. The sense of urgency pervading the opening section is driven largely by the pulsings of a string quartet, of all things; when a simple, resonant piano line enters at 1:28, the song opens up magnificently, achieving a U2-esque grandeur even as singer/songwriter Rey Villalobos, with his sweet, pitch-perfect pop voice, keeps the enterprise rooted on earth rather than in the heavens somewhere. The son of a cinematographer (ah!), Villalobos is a classically-trained musician who lists Chopin among his influences; easier ones to pick out here might be the Beatles (John Lennon in particular), the Moody Blues, the Pixies, and Bends-era Radiohead, and yet this doesn't really sound like any of them. "Look At Her Face" is the opening song on the band's debut CD, Volcano and Heart, self-released under the Red Clover Records imprint in July. The MP3 is hosted on the band's site. Thanks to the gang at 3hive for the lead.
"Number One" - Catlow
Wielding no obvious sonic gimmicks, no "listen to me, I'm different!" antics, Natasha Thirsk, doing business as Catlow, has crafted a remarkably unformulaic piece of punchy, three-minute neo-'90s guitar pop. From the opening, off-beat crunch of the guitar, the off-kilter entry of the bass, and the restrained drumbeat, the song manages to feel both march-like and arhythmic. Hooks come and go before they settle in, as if seen from the aural equivalent of the corner of the eye. Listen for instance to the descending riff heard first in the introduction (11 seconds in): it kind of melts in on itself, describing a slippery series of diminishments that are quickly folded into the stuttering drive, leaving you not quite sure what you heard and whether it even made sense or not. This riff, however, recurs, and becomes its own sort of mysterious hook when Thirsk works it into the melody at the end of each line of verse (the "I am I am I am" part in the first verse). The chorus, in turn, is even more elusively catchy, with the clipped stop-start-ishness of the crunchy guitar and its lack of melodic lines to hang onto; what we get instead is Thirsk's light but powerful voice reaching successive climaxes before retreating in a sort of syncopated wave, falling then rising towards an unexpected chord that manages to lead us back to the verse without a traditional resolution. Thirsk comes from Vancouver, and gained a following late in the '90s and into the new decade with her former band, the Dirtmitts. "Number One" is the lead track on Catlow's debut CD, Kiss the World, released earlier this year in Canada on Boompa Records. The MP3 is via the Boompa site.
"Miles" - the Southland
Styles and tendencies in rock'n'roll tend to change pretty gradually when all is said and done, the definitive sound or sounds of one era blending seamlessly into another, and only emerging as definitive in retrospect--it's much easier, as an example, to talk about a "'90s sound" now than it was back when we were living through it. And so the '00s (more than half over already!) may seem so far to have produced a difficult-to-generalize sort of sound to date--particularly as there is by now such a longer and richer musical history for rock bands to be inspired by. I contend, however, that some characteristic sounds are emerging and this able and spiffy tune by a new L.A. band called the Southland pretty much nails one of them exquisitely. With its bedroom-rock-style mixture of acoustic and beat rhythms, "Miles" is not a song that could possibly have been produced in the '60s or '70s or '80s or '90s. I'm not saying this is gloriously original; actually the point is that it isn't--but it is enormously characteristic, and beautifully crafted. What wins me is the memorable chorus, with its bittersweet melody and that great, marshmallowy slide-guitar lick. "Miles" is a song from the Southland's debut CD, Influence of Geography, released in June on Ruffworld Records. The MP3 is via the Ruffworld site.
Monday, November 21, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Nov. 20-26
"Nightlife" - Gustav & the Seasick Sailors
From its mellow Bruce Hornsby-ish piano introduction, this song picks up a crisp beat and some Hammond B3 accents even as it retains vague jazz-pop stylings (Steely Dan-ish chords, stuttering drumbeats) through the opening verse. But everything is a set-up for the brilliant chorus, in which the 21-year-old Gustav (born, it must be noted, without a right hand; he wears a special device to allow him to hold a pick) sings an irresistible melody, at once beautiful and anthemic, that seems like something John Mellencamp was trying to write but never quite managed to some 15 or 20 years ago. For a young guy, Gustav breathes out a fetching, Steve Earle-ish sort of weariness as he lets go of his syllables. While I'm not sure we're venturing into lyrical profundity here, the music makes it irrelevant to me. "Nightlife" is the lead track off Gustav & the Seasick Sailors' debut CD, Vagabond's Polka, which was released last year on Marilyn Records. The MP3 is hosted on the Marilyn web site. A 10-person collective from Sweden, Gustav & the Seasick Sailors are scheduled to release a second CD early in 2006.
"Episodes (Diphenhydramine)" - Pela
I have discovered a previously unrecognized affection in my musical tastes for the sort of voice that Pela singer Billy Swanson has. I will now describe it: okay, I can't describe it, not really, other than to say it's high, somewhat roughed-up, vaguely muffled and yet also incisive, with a keen edge. Beyond Swanson's immediate appeal, this strikes me as a cool song for a variety of reasons. To begin with, it utilizes the trick of having the accompanying music playing twice as fast as the melody line, which achieves the pleasing effect of it seeming like a fast slow song or a slow fast song. I also like the mysterious use of wordless vocal accents in the extended bridge-like section after the verse--by now we completely buy into the sense of movement and urgency, and yet the resolution is delayed by those ghostly "aaahs." The underlying sense of tension increases when Swanson dives next into his lower register ("as if I really knew myself," he sings, with an unexpected bit of Morrisseyan phrasing). Then arrives the great release with the strange one-word chorus ("Diphenhydramine"--which is by the way an antihistamine), sung with a fluttery array of chiming guitars floating almost out of earshot in the background. This song was one of five on the Brooklyn-based band's debut EP, All in Time, released back in May on the Brassland label. The MP3 comes via the Brassland site.
"Spiral" - XTC
Sometimes you just want the real thing, even if the real thing isn't quite as real and thing-like as it used to be. This "new" XTC song has been floating around the internet for a couple of weeks; I heard it when it first came out (thanks, Largehearted Boy!), and put it aside. Did it move me to tears? Did it make me swear that Andy Partridge is still a god-like master of the three-minute, fifteen-second pop song? Um, no. I loved this band in its day, and then some. But days move on, decades without names roll by, and the fine line between a groove and a rut (thanks, Christine Lavin) grows intractably indistinguishable. And yet: even awash in nostalgia (talk about a groove, the spiral in question is the path the phonograph needle traces while converting plastic to soundwave), the song is rich and smile-inducing, for its jaunty melody, effervescent instrumentation, and other bounteous XTC-isms: the fast-slow shifts in pace, the distinctive chord changes, and Partridge's inimitable goofy-earnest yowl. If these guys exist in their own particular bubble of sound and space, so be it. I suggest a visit now and then. And while I might not steer you towards the extravagant re-boxing of the band's most recent two Apple Venus CDs from which this tune (recorded in the '99-'00 time frame) emerges, I urge you to discover or rediscover English Settlement (1982), Skylarking (1986), or the somewhat more recent and underrated Nonsuch (1992). The MP3 is available via Toolshed (a music promotion firm).
week of Nov. 20-26
"Nightlife" - Gustav & the Seasick Sailors
From its mellow Bruce Hornsby-ish piano introduction, this song picks up a crisp beat and some Hammond B3 accents even as it retains vague jazz-pop stylings (Steely Dan-ish chords, stuttering drumbeats) through the opening verse. But everything is a set-up for the brilliant chorus, in which the 21-year-old Gustav (born, it must be noted, without a right hand; he wears a special device to allow him to hold a pick) sings an irresistible melody, at once beautiful and anthemic, that seems like something John Mellencamp was trying to write but never quite managed to some 15 or 20 years ago. For a young guy, Gustav breathes out a fetching, Steve Earle-ish sort of weariness as he lets go of his syllables. While I'm not sure we're venturing into lyrical profundity here, the music makes it irrelevant to me. "Nightlife" is the lead track off Gustav & the Seasick Sailors' debut CD, Vagabond's Polka, which was released last year on Marilyn Records. The MP3 is hosted on the Marilyn web site. A 10-person collective from Sweden, Gustav & the Seasick Sailors are scheduled to release a second CD early in 2006.
"Episodes (Diphenhydramine)" - Pela
I have discovered a previously unrecognized affection in my musical tastes for the sort of voice that Pela singer Billy Swanson has. I will now describe it: okay, I can't describe it, not really, other than to say it's high, somewhat roughed-up, vaguely muffled and yet also incisive, with a keen edge. Beyond Swanson's immediate appeal, this strikes me as a cool song for a variety of reasons. To begin with, it utilizes the trick of having the accompanying music playing twice as fast as the melody line, which achieves the pleasing effect of it seeming like a fast slow song or a slow fast song. I also like the mysterious use of wordless vocal accents in the extended bridge-like section after the verse--by now we completely buy into the sense of movement and urgency, and yet the resolution is delayed by those ghostly "aaahs." The underlying sense of tension increases when Swanson dives next into his lower register ("as if I really knew myself," he sings, with an unexpected bit of Morrisseyan phrasing). Then arrives the great release with the strange one-word chorus ("Diphenhydramine"--which is by the way an antihistamine), sung with a fluttery array of chiming guitars floating almost out of earshot in the background. This song was one of five on the Brooklyn-based band's debut EP, All in Time, released back in May on the Brassland label. The MP3 comes via the Brassland site.
"Spiral" - XTC
Sometimes you just want the real thing, even if the real thing isn't quite as real and thing-like as it used to be. This "new" XTC song has been floating around the internet for a couple of weeks; I heard it when it first came out (thanks, Largehearted Boy!), and put it aside. Did it move me to tears? Did it make me swear that Andy Partridge is still a god-like master of the three-minute, fifteen-second pop song? Um, no. I loved this band in its day, and then some. But days move on, decades without names roll by, and the fine line between a groove and a rut (thanks, Christine Lavin) grows intractably indistinguishable. And yet: even awash in nostalgia (talk about a groove, the spiral in question is the path the phonograph needle traces while converting plastic to soundwave), the song is rich and smile-inducing, for its jaunty melody, effervescent instrumentation, and other bounteous XTC-isms: the fast-slow shifts in pace, the distinctive chord changes, and Partridge's inimitable goofy-earnest yowl. If these guys exist in their own particular bubble of sound and space, so be it. I suggest a visit now and then. And while I might not steer you towards the extravagant re-boxing of the band's most recent two Apple Venus CDs from which this tune (recorded in the '99-'00 time frame) emerges, I urge you to discover or rediscover English Settlement (1982), Skylarking (1986), or the somewhat more recent and underrated Nonsuch (1992). The MP3 is available via Toolshed (a music promotion firm).
Monday, November 14, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Nov. 13-19
"Intoxicated" - Kids These Days
Wow: an instantly appealing song that proceeds to unfold in unanticipated ways. The chimey double guitar lines in the introduction lay out an initial melody both simple and memorable, playing as it does with the ever-engaging fourth interval. (Fourths tend to keep the ear in a satisfying state of suspension, you see.) I like also how in the introduction the intervals are not expressed cleanly, but are scuffed up with well-placed dissonances between the twin guitars. When the singing starts, the verse first affirms the melody (already sounding like an old friend) then glides into the effortless chorus; I love the effect of having the lyrics come up shorter than the musical line, leaving an instrumental measure that's just as much a part of the chorus as the words. And then, after two rounds of that, the song shifts--the rhythm section becomes itchier and lead singer Marc Morrissette explores the higher end of his range, giving the second half of the song an unexpectedly effective Radiohead-ian vibe. Kids These Days are a five-man band (all five write songs, apparently) from Vancouver; "Intoxicated" is a track from the band's debut CD, All These Interruptions, released this past spring in Canada on White Whale Records. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the lead.
"Sidewalk Chalk" - the A-Sides
I like how the garagey stomp that opens this song is incorporated into a shimmeringly upbeat bit of neo-power pop--it sounds cool, and also encapsulates this Philadelphia band's approach, which seems to draw simultaneously from two divergent '60s sounds: garage-rock psychedelia (think Nuggets) on the one hand, glistening orchestral pop (think Pet Sounds) on the other. The interesting result of this particular blend is how much more emerges in the sound beyond mere revival of the A-Sides' seemingly obvious, and admirable, influences (Kinks, Who, Beach Boys). Tuning more carefully in to the song's various charms--including a smiley descending melody and some great guitar interplay (Beatley lines contrasting with psychedelic howling)--I sensed the influences and confluences multiply. Now I'm hearing Robyn Hitchcock, I'm hearing XTC, I'm even hearing the Strokes--and I begin to realize how it's really the band's own spirit and musical capacities that I'm hearing most of all. While some rock'n'roll has appeared on the scene as if from another dimension entirely, most of the best stuff over the years is neither more nor less than a skillful distillation of previously available ideas. Picking out influences can be fun and instructive if the point is to understand a piece of music in a broader context; when influence-spotting becomes a reductive game (as it, sadly, does quite frequently with online music criticism), then this usually says more about the writer than the musician. "Sidewalk Chalk" is the lead track on the A-Sides' debut full-length CD, Hello, Hello, released in May on Prison Jazz Records. The MP3 is available via the band's site.
"Cowbell" - Tapes 'n Tapes
Cross They Might Be Giants with Pere Ubu and here you are. This is two and a half minutes of continuously strange, mysteriously catchy avant-pop. Driven by a rubbery bass, twitchy acoustic guitar, and slightly strangled vocals, "Cowbell" threw its first verse by me so quickly I didn't realize exactly what I was listening to, and then the chorus started and I really didn't know what I was listening to but I was completely hooked: the off-beat, villainous-sounding, sing-along melody is too cool for its own good. Tapes 'n Tapes is a Minneapolis threesome that's been around since 2003, if the band's web site can be believed, which it doesn't look like it should be. "Cowbell" comes from the band's first CD, The Loon, just released on Ibid Records. You'll find the MP3 on band's site
week of Nov. 13-19
"Intoxicated" - Kids These Days
Wow: an instantly appealing song that proceeds to unfold in unanticipated ways. The chimey double guitar lines in the introduction lay out an initial melody both simple and memorable, playing as it does with the ever-engaging fourth interval. (Fourths tend to keep the ear in a satisfying state of suspension, you see.) I like also how in the introduction the intervals are not expressed cleanly, but are scuffed up with well-placed dissonances between the twin guitars. When the singing starts, the verse first affirms the melody (already sounding like an old friend) then glides into the effortless chorus; I love the effect of having the lyrics come up shorter than the musical line, leaving an instrumental measure that's just as much a part of the chorus as the words. And then, after two rounds of that, the song shifts--the rhythm section becomes itchier and lead singer Marc Morrissette explores the higher end of his range, giving the second half of the song an unexpectedly effective Radiohead-ian vibe. Kids These Days are a five-man band (all five write songs, apparently) from Vancouver; "Intoxicated" is a track from the band's debut CD, All These Interruptions, released this past spring in Canada on White Whale Records. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the lead.
"Sidewalk Chalk" - the A-Sides
I like how the garagey stomp that opens this song is incorporated into a shimmeringly upbeat bit of neo-power pop--it sounds cool, and also encapsulates this Philadelphia band's approach, which seems to draw simultaneously from two divergent '60s sounds: garage-rock psychedelia (think Nuggets) on the one hand, glistening orchestral pop (think Pet Sounds) on the other. The interesting result of this particular blend is how much more emerges in the sound beyond mere revival of the A-Sides' seemingly obvious, and admirable, influences (Kinks, Who, Beach Boys). Tuning more carefully in to the song's various charms--including a smiley descending melody and some great guitar interplay (Beatley lines contrasting with psychedelic howling)--I sensed the influences and confluences multiply. Now I'm hearing Robyn Hitchcock, I'm hearing XTC, I'm even hearing the Strokes--and I begin to realize how it's really the band's own spirit and musical capacities that I'm hearing most of all. While some rock'n'roll has appeared on the scene as if from another dimension entirely, most of the best stuff over the years is neither more nor less than a skillful distillation of previously available ideas. Picking out influences can be fun and instructive if the point is to understand a piece of music in a broader context; when influence-spotting becomes a reductive game (as it, sadly, does quite frequently with online music criticism), then this usually says more about the writer than the musician. "Sidewalk Chalk" is the lead track on the A-Sides' debut full-length CD, Hello, Hello, released in May on Prison Jazz Records. The MP3 is available via the band's site.
"Cowbell" - Tapes 'n Tapes
Cross They Might Be Giants with Pere Ubu and here you are. This is two and a half minutes of continuously strange, mysteriously catchy avant-pop. Driven by a rubbery bass, twitchy acoustic guitar, and slightly strangled vocals, "Cowbell" threw its first verse by me so quickly I didn't realize exactly what I was listening to, and then the chorus started and I really didn't know what I was listening to but I was completely hooked: the off-beat, villainous-sounding, sing-along melody is too cool for its own good. Tapes 'n Tapes is a Minneapolis threesome that's been around since 2003, if the band's web site can be believed, which it doesn't look like it should be. "Cowbell" comes from the band's first CD, The Loon, just released on Ibid Records. You'll find the MP3 on band's site
Monday, November 07, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Nov. 6-12
"Cash Machine" - Hard-Fi
This decisive update of the Clash's "Magnificent Seven" sound--an irresistible blend of punk, pop, dub, and disco--is simple, uncompromising, harsh, elegant, and utterly marvelous. Opening with an echoey melodica, sounding like a forlorn traffic jam, the song leaps into an assured beat yet never rests solely on its groove: there is melody, there are chord changes, there are flawless production touches, and there is a story--the last fact of which makes me realize how few bands, for better or worse, actually do tell discernible stories. The minor key chorus--wonderfully set up, in major keys, by a pair of gliding syllables--is a glorious distillation of this young band's assured sound. And while many songs succeed nicely in today's mash-up, shuffle-crazy world with a kitchen-sink style of production, sounds tossed willy-nilly on top of one another in pursuit of a mysterious ambiance, "Cash Machine" reminds me of the brilliance of the opposite approach: even as Hard-Fi creates a large, swaggering presence here, there is not one wasted sound in the mix. It's a relief sometimes to be able to hear everything that you're listening to, especially when it's this good. Hard-Fi is a young foursome from the apparently dreary commuter town of Staines, west of London. "Cash Machine" is the lead track on the band's debut CD, Stars on CCTV, which was short-listed earlier this year for the U.K.'s prestigious Mercury Music Prize. The MP3 is available via Insound. The CD has been released so far in the U.K. only, originally on Necessary Records in late 2004, and re-released in conjunction with Atlantic Records in July 2005.
"Mary Lately" - Martha Berner
There's nothing wrong every so often with a straightforward acoustic-based ballad with a good melody; this one strikes me as a poignant yet gratifyingly sturdy example. Martha Berner is a Chicago-based singer/songwriter who has lived previously in Alaska, Israel, Thailand, and Wisconsin, among other places. Could be her itinerant background is what gives both the song and her musical presence an elusive sense of familiarity. There's her resonant voice, which sounds like a slightly duskier version of Sarah McLachlan, back when she was writing good songs; I hear a touch of Dar Williams as well, around the edges of her enunciation. At the same time, the overall vibe makes me think that this is what the Cowboy Junkies might sound like if Norah Jones were John Prine's sister and sang lead. Don't miss that place in the second verse when, instead of the slide accent you might expect, a slightly loony synthesizer is used instead. I think that's when I knew I liked this one. "Mary Lately" is a song off Berner's debut CD, This Side of Yesterday, released last month on Machine Records. The MP3 can be found on the Machine web site.
"Higher" - Soft
John Reineck has the sort of sweet, yearning tenor voice that I associate with great moments in power pop. And yet the wash of big, reverb-y chords and fuzzy, subtly psychedelic atmosphere brings the best of '90s shoegaze to mind. It's a potent combination--dreamy walls of glistening guitars, sweetly voiced melodicism; I'm thinking this NYC-based quintet is onto something. I like that they don't merely rest on the achievement of their basic sonic package, which they easily might have; the band cares enough about the craft of songwriting to give us moments along the way that seem like bonuses: not hooks in the classic sense of something that sits at the center point of the song's allure, but tasty twists and additions that give the piece extra weight and substance. I like for instance the moment in that bridge-like bit between the end of the verse and beginning of the chorus, at around 1:05, when Reineck sings "Can't even feel my feet or keep them on the ground"--it's like the song moves suddenly into this new, open space, as if you were in a room that revealed itself to be much bigger than you initially thought when you came in. Given the lyrical theme, I'd say the effect is not unintentional. "Higher" is a song off the band's just-released, self-released, self-titled first EP. The song is available via the band's site.
week of Nov. 6-12
"Cash Machine" - Hard-Fi
This decisive update of the Clash's "Magnificent Seven" sound--an irresistible blend of punk, pop, dub, and disco--is simple, uncompromising, harsh, elegant, and utterly marvelous. Opening with an echoey melodica, sounding like a forlorn traffic jam, the song leaps into an assured beat yet never rests solely on its groove: there is melody, there are chord changes, there are flawless production touches, and there is a story--the last fact of which makes me realize how few bands, for better or worse, actually do tell discernible stories. The minor key chorus--wonderfully set up, in major keys, by a pair of gliding syllables--is a glorious distillation of this young band's assured sound. And while many songs succeed nicely in today's mash-up, shuffle-crazy world with a kitchen-sink style of production, sounds tossed willy-nilly on top of one another in pursuit of a mysterious ambiance, "Cash Machine" reminds me of the brilliance of the opposite approach: even as Hard-Fi creates a large, swaggering presence here, there is not one wasted sound in the mix. It's a relief sometimes to be able to hear everything that you're listening to, especially when it's this good. Hard-Fi is a young foursome from the apparently dreary commuter town of Staines, west of London. "Cash Machine" is the lead track on the band's debut CD, Stars on CCTV, which was short-listed earlier this year for the U.K.'s prestigious Mercury Music Prize. The MP3 is available via Insound. The CD has been released so far in the U.K. only, originally on Necessary Records in late 2004, and re-released in conjunction with Atlantic Records in July 2005.
"Mary Lately" - Martha Berner
There's nothing wrong every so often with a straightforward acoustic-based ballad with a good melody; this one strikes me as a poignant yet gratifyingly sturdy example. Martha Berner is a Chicago-based singer/songwriter who has lived previously in Alaska, Israel, Thailand, and Wisconsin, among other places. Could be her itinerant background is what gives both the song and her musical presence an elusive sense of familiarity. There's her resonant voice, which sounds like a slightly duskier version of Sarah McLachlan, back when she was writing good songs; I hear a touch of Dar Williams as well, around the edges of her enunciation. At the same time, the overall vibe makes me think that this is what the Cowboy Junkies might sound like if Norah Jones were John Prine's sister and sang lead. Don't miss that place in the second verse when, instead of the slide accent you might expect, a slightly loony synthesizer is used instead. I think that's when I knew I liked this one. "Mary Lately" is a song off Berner's debut CD, This Side of Yesterday, released last month on Machine Records. The MP3 can be found on the Machine web site.
"Higher" - Soft
John Reineck has the sort of sweet, yearning tenor voice that I associate with great moments in power pop. And yet the wash of big, reverb-y chords and fuzzy, subtly psychedelic atmosphere brings the best of '90s shoegaze to mind. It's a potent combination--dreamy walls of glistening guitars, sweetly voiced melodicism; I'm thinking this NYC-based quintet is onto something. I like that they don't merely rest on the achievement of their basic sonic package, which they easily might have; the band cares enough about the craft of songwriting to give us moments along the way that seem like bonuses: not hooks in the classic sense of something that sits at the center point of the song's allure, but tasty twists and additions that give the piece extra weight and substance. I like for instance the moment in that bridge-like bit between the end of the verse and beginning of the chorus, at around 1:05, when Reineck sings "Can't even feel my feet or keep them on the ground"--it's like the song moves suddenly into this new, open space, as if you were in a room that revealed itself to be much bigger than you initially thought when you came in. Given the lyrical theme, I'd say the effect is not unintentional. "Higher" is a song off the band's just-released, self-released, self-titled first EP. The song is available via the band's site.
Monday, October 31, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Oct. 30-Nov. 5
"White Daisy Passing" - Rocky Votolato
What's the difference between a boring, doleful singer/songwriter and compelling, doleful singer/songwriter? Aurally, not a whole helluva lot, sometimes. And yet it's this difference--which hits me clearly in the gut even as it's tricky to articulate--that allows me to like Elliott Smith and yet all too often really not like people who sound like Elliott Smith. And yet here's Rocky Votolato, all sweet-voiced and whispery, and yup, he grabs me right away. Maybe it's the crispness of the rhythm guitar. He may be sweet and whispery, but the song moves. This movement is based in both tempo and structure, as Votolato gets a lot out of the ever-engaging, Jackson Browne-ian relationship between a major chord and its relative minor (the introduction, for instance, is major; when he starts singing, he's in the relative minor, a pleasant but definite shift). Note too the sense of movement stemming from how he starts the chorus on the upbeat, straight out of the verse, and then leads us through a chord progression that pivots on a seventh chord. This seems particularly striking as he's getting just then to the saddest part of the song. (Seventh chords are usually good-timey things.) The lyric at this point is almost mind-blowingly painful, yet easy to miss in the strummy flow of the whole thing, so check it out: "I'm going down to sleep/On the bottom of the ocean/'Cause I couldn't let go/When the water hit the setting sun." "White Daisy Passing" will be on Votolato's debut CD, Makers, scheduled for a January 2006 release on Barsuk Records. The MP3 is up on the Barsuk site.
"Bang Theory" - World Leader Pretend
Maybe I'm crazy, but I'm beginning to sense an interesting rapprochement in the musical world that seems completely opposed to the tense polarity that suffuses the political world here in the U.S. in the new century. I'm hearing sounds that have for many years been rejected or ridiculed (for no actual good reason) seeping their way back into public awareness. ELO and early Elton John are popping up on store sound systems everywhere I go, making things seem happy and connected, and none of it somehow sounds like an accident. What this has to do with the New Orleans quintet World Leader Pretend, I'm not exactly sure, except that there's something in the big, swaggering sound here that reminds me of a neglected past, and bands I maybe used to make fun of (um, Simple Minds, for one), and now I don't really want to make fun. ("Can't we all just get along" and all that.) Okay, so lead singer Keith Ferguson teeters on the edge of macho-breathy histrionics--to my ears, the band creates such a large, burnished space for him to do it in, full of classic-sounding melodies and catchy instrumental refrains, that it all makes some kind of crazy messy sense. "Bang Theory" is the first song on the band's major-label debut, Punches; released on Warner Brothers Records in June, the label appears yet to be trying to work at some indie-like web buzz to get it going. If that means actually putting this free and legal MP3 out (via Filter), I'm all for it.
"Secret" - La Laque
Then again, maybe in the long run we prefer the sort of breathy histrionics likely to emerge from a band with a French name and a sultry lead singer singing in French. All the better if the band is from New York City, and the lead singer sings in French primarily because she's too shy to sing in English. La Laque is further notable for being a six-piece band, which is an unusual size in the annals of rock--and all the more unusual for its being made up of three men and three women. For all the apparent novelty of the music, this turns out to be an unusual song in less obvious ways as well, particularly for how it manages to sound at once like an ironic piece of chamber airiness and a chugging bit of post-punk-power-pop. Listen with admiration as "Secret" picks up a whole lot of drum-and-guitar noise in and around the violins after the minute and a half mark, yet does so with such ongoing panache that the band doesn't seem to break a sweat. "Secret" was one half of a shared single with the band Pas/Cal that was released on Romantic Air Records in June. The MP3 is available via the Romantic Air site.
week of Oct. 30-Nov. 5
"White Daisy Passing" - Rocky Votolato
What's the difference between a boring, doleful singer/songwriter and compelling, doleful singer/songwriter? Aurally, not a whole helluva lot, sometimes. And yet it's this difference--which hits me clearly in the gut even as it's tricky to articulate--that allows me to like Elliott Smith and yet all too often really not like people who sound like Elliott Smith. And yet here's Rocky Votolato, all sweet-voiced and whispery, and yup, he grabs me right away. Maybe it's the crispness of the rhythm guitar. He may be sweet and whispery, but the song moves. This movement is based in both tempo and structure, as Votolato gets a lot out of the ever-engaging, Jackson Browne-ian relationship between a major chord and its relative minor (the introduction, for instance, is major; when he starts singing, he's in the relative minor, a pleasant but definite shift). Note too the sense of movement stemming from how he starts the chorus on the upbeat, straight out of the verse, and then leads us through a chord progression that pivots on a seventh chord. This seems particularly striking as he's getting just then to the saddest part of the song. (Seventh chords are usually good-timey things.) The lyric at this point is almost mind-blowingly painful, yet easy to miss in the strummy flow of the whole thing, so check it out: "I'm going down to sleep/On the bottom of the ocean/'Cause I couldn't let go/When the water hit the setting sun." "White Daisy Passing" will be on Votolato's debut CD, Makers, scheduled for a January 2006 release on Barsuk Records. The MP3 is up on the Barsuk site.
"Bang Theory" - World Leader Pretend
Maybe I'm crazy, but I'm beginning to sense an interesting rapprochement in the musical world that seems completely opposed to the tense polarity that suffuses the political world here in the U.S. in the new century. I'm hearing sounds that have for many years been rejected or ridiculed (for no actual good reason) seeping their way back into public awareness. ELO and early Elton John are popping up on store sound systems everywhere I go, making things seem happy and connected, and none of it somehow sounds like an accident. What this has to do with the New Orleans quintet World Leader Pretend, I'm not exactly sure, except that there's something in the big, swaggering sound here that reminds me of a neglected past, and bands I maybe used to make fun of (um, Simple Minds, for one), and now I don't really want to make fun. ("Can't we all just get along" and all that.) Okay, so lead singer Keith Ferguson teeters on the edge of macho-breathy histrionics--to my ears, the band creates such a large, burnished space for him to do it in, full of classic-sounding melodies and catchy instrumental refrains, that it all makes some kind of crazy messy sense. "Bang Theory" is the first song on the band's major-label debut, Punches; released on Warner Brothers Records in June, the label appears yet to be trying to work at some indie-like web buzz to get it going. If that means actually putting this free and legal MP3 out (via Filter), I'm all for it.
"Secret" - La Laque
Then again, maybe in the long run we prefer the sort of breathy histrionics likely to emerge from a band with a French name and a sultry lead singer singing in French. All the better if the band is from New York City, and the lead singer sings in French primarily because she's too shy to sing in English. La Laque is further notable for being a six-piece band, which is an unusual size in the annals of rock--and all the more unusual for its being made up of three men and three women. For all the apparent novelty of the music, this turns out to be an unusual song in less obvious ways as well, particularly for how it manages to sound at once like an ironic piece of chamber airiness and a chugging bit of post-punk-power-pop. Listen with admiration as "Secret" picks up a whole lot of drum-and-guitar noise in and around the violins after the minute and a half mark, yet does so with such ongoing panache that the band doesn't seem to break a sweat. "Secret" was one half of a shared single with the band Pas/Cal that was released on Romantic Air Records in June. The MP3 is available via the Romantic Air site.
Monday, October 24, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Oct. 23-29
"Darkest Birds" - Nine Horses
David Sylvian is something of a self-contained and overlooked country in the geography of rock'n'roll history. From his teenaged beginnings in the band Japan--a Roxy Music-like art-glam-rock turned synth-pop band of the '70s and early '80s--Sylvian went on to pursue a left-of-center artistic path through the '80s and '90s. There were diffuse, ambiant-like solo recordings, featuring collaborations with like-minded experimental spirits such as Robert Fripp, Bill Nelson, and Ryuichi Sakamoto; there were forays into photography and avant-garde art installations; most recently came a solo CD of disconcertingly spare and challenging songs (2003's Blemish). In other words, he has kept busy doing all sorts of interesting things while remaining entirely obscure to the mass of music listeners here in the fad-crazy U.S. (Sylvian's is the sort of career, come to think of it, that seems possible only in Europe, unless you're maybe Laurie Anderson.) In the wake of Blemish's creative break/breakthrough comes Nine Horses, which finds Sylvian working with his brother Steve Jansen and an electronic composer/remixer with the arresting name of Burnt Friedman. On "Darkest Birds," Sylvian's husky, Bowie-meets-Ferry vibrato mixes luxuriously and effectively with an intimate, floaty, jazz-trumpet-accented verse and a louder, percussive chorus, both grounded in an organic-sounding wash of blippy electronica. Expect it to grow on you with repeated listens. "Darkest Birds" is the second track on the new Nine Horses CD "Snow Borne Sorrow," released last week on Sylvian's Samadhisound label. The MP3 is available via the sleek, artsy Samadhisound site.
"Catch a Collapsing Star" - the Mendoza Line
With a melody and spirit harkening back to the Dylanized '60s, "Catch a Collapsing Star" is as friendly as the corner pub, as crisp as an autumn afternoon, as happy-wistful as an old letter. I think I've become heedlessly, foolishly in love with Shannon McArdle's voice (first discussed when her other band, Slow Dazzle, was a TWF pick in August); her open, yearning sweetness mixes innocence and wisdom with uncanny balance. I'll try not to resent too much that she sings lead on only one verse here, as the lead vocals are otherwise handled by (I think!) bandmate Timothy Bracy. Then again, his raspy Steve Earle-ishness is really rather engaging as well, as is the nuanced mix of looseness and tightness on display throughout this rollicking tune. "Catch a Collapsing Star" will be found on the band's next CD, Full of Light and Fire, to be released next month on Misra Records. The MP3 is available via the Misra site.
"Words That I Employ" - Coach Said Not To
So this one starts like something unhinged and way-too-quirky-indie: a tick-tocky toy-like chiming noise and a woman's voice speak-singing an incomprehensible torrent of words. Some may immediately like this; me, I was just about ready to send the file to the Recycle Bin, but...I'm not sure. Something in the tone of the voice, something in the knowing flow of instrumentation, and then--wow, listen to the centering, glorious note singer Eva Mohn hits at 40 seconds, singing the word "sweet" (the lyric is: "Well that's so sweet/It makes me sick/It makes me sick and happy for you"). My goodness, she's got a real voice, and by real I don't mean necessarily beautiful (although it is, rather) or melodious but real as in full of depth and character. Likewise the band: they may herk and jerk with the best of them, but there is great strength of purpose and execution in their sound. I love the big, faux-classic-rock break in the middle section, around 1:30; and then best of all I love the subsequent return to the "that's so sweet" phrase--the note she sings at 2:23 melts the heart and nails the song, which now seems a satisfying, complete whole rather than a quirky parade of parts. The band name, by the way, comes, apparently, from a pamphlet the band members once saw detailing 101 ways to turn down a sexual invitation; they are number 71. "Words That I Employ" is a song off the band's debut, self-titled EP, which was released last year. A new three-song EP is due out shortly The MP3 is available via band's site.
week of Oct. 23-29
"Darkest Birds" - Nine Horses
David Sylvian is something of a self-contained and overlooked country in the geography of rock'n'roll history. From his teenaged beginnings in the band Japan--a Roxy Music-like art-glam-rock turned synth-pop band of the '70s and early '80s--Sylvian went on to pursue a left-of-center artistic path through the '80s and '90s. There were diffuse, ambiant-like solo recordings, featuring collaborations with like-minded experimental spirits such as Robert Fripp, Bill Nelson, and Ryuichi Sakamoto; there were forays into photography and avant-garde art installations; most recently came a solo CD of disconcertingly spare and challenging songs (2003's Blemish). In other words, he has kept busy doing all sorts of interesting things while remaining entirely obscure to the mass of music listeners here in the fad-crazy U.S. (Sylvian's is the sort of career, come to think of it, that seems possible only in Europe, unless you're maybe Laurie Anderson.) In the wake of Blemish's creative break/breakthrough comes Nine Horses, which finds Sylvian working with his brother Steve Jansen and an electronic composer/remixer with the arresting name of Burnt Friedman. On "Darkest Birds," Sylvian's husky, Bowie-meets-Ferry vibrato mixes luxuriously and effectively with an intimate, floaty, jazz-trumpet-accented verse and a louder, percussive chorus, both grounded in an organic-sounding wash of blippy electronica. Expect it to grow on you with repeated listens. "Darkest Birds" is the second track on the new Nine Horses CD "Snow Borne Sorrow," released last week on Sylvian's Samadhisound label. The MP3 is available via the sleek, artsy Samadhisound site.
"Catch a Collapsing Star" - the Mendoza Line
With a melody and spirit harkening back to the Dylanized '60s, "Catch a Collapsing Star" is as friendly as the corner pub, as crisp as an autumn afternoon, as happy-wistful as an old letter. I think I've become heedlessly, foolishly in love with Shannon McArdle's voice (first discussed when her other band, Slow Dazzle, was a TWF pick in August); her open, yearning sweetness mixes innocence and wisdom with uncanny balance. I'll try not to resent too much that she sings lead on only one verse here, as the lead vocals are otherwise handled by (I think!) bandmate Timothy Bracy. Then again, his raspy Steve Earle-ishness is really rather engaging as well, as is the nuanced mix of looseness and tightness on display throughout this rollicking tune. "Catch a Collapsing Star" will be found on the band's next CD, Full of Light and Fire, to be released next month on Misra Records. The MP3 is available via the Misra site.
"Words That I Employ" - Coach Said Not To
So this one starts like something unhinged and way-too-quirky-indie: a tick-tocky toy-like chiming noise and a woman's voice speak-singing an incomprehensible torrent of words. Some may immediately like this; me, I was just about ready to send the file to the Recycle Bin, but...I'm not sure. Something in the tone of the voice, something in the knowing flow of instrumentation, and then--wow, listen to the centering, glorious note singer Eva Mohn hits at 40 seconds, singing the word "sweet" (the lyric is: "Well that's so sweet/It makes me sick/It makes me sick and happy for you"). My goodness, she's got a real voice, and by real I don't mean necessarily beautiful (although it is, rather) or melodious but real as in full of depth and character. Likewise the band: they may herk and jerk with the best of them, but there is great strength of purpose and execution in their sound. I love the big, faux-classic-rock break in the middle section, around 1:30; and then best of all I love the subsequent return to the "that's so sweet" phrase--the note she sings at 2:23 melts the heart and nails the song, which now seems a satisfying, complete whole rather than a quirky parade of parts. The band name, by the way, comes, apparently, from a pamphlet the band members once saw detailing 101 ways to turn down a sexual invitation; they are number 71. "Words That I Employ" is a song off the band's debut, self-titled EP, which was released last year. A new three-song EP is due out shortly The MP3 is available via band's site.
Monday, October 17, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Oct. 16-22
"The Vice and Virtue Ministry" - the Happy Bullets
Intertwining guitars, at once loopy and dainty, set the stage for this brisk, assured, and endlessly delightful tune. I am especially taken with lead singer Jason Roberts' fetching falsetto leaps--I love how his voice just flies upward at the end of a few key phrases, most of all when it happens so much in the middle of a lyrical line that he has to drop again as quickly as he went up. A five-piece band from Dallas (which includes Angela Roberts, Jason's wife, on bass), the Happy Bullets made the happy decision to work with producer Stuart Sikes (who has worked with Modest Mouse, the White Stripes, and the Walkmen, among others), whose sure touch enlivens this song in many different ways. I am unaccountably charmed, as an example, by the subtle acoustic strum that leads into the second verse (at 0:39), arising out of a maracas-like shaking sound just introduced out of the original loopy guitar line. And then of course there's the brilliant infusion of Kinks-ish spirit on display throughout. Being influenced by the Kinks is (praise the lord) no longer a novelty on the rock'n'roll scene, but I don't know that I've heard a 21st-century band take Ray Davies so delightfully into the here and now as these guys do. This isn't an homage and it's not nostalgia; Roberts doesn't even sound like Davies in any particular way. And yet this song so thoroughly embodies some key Kinksian vibe that if Davies had come of age in the '00s rather than the '60s his band I think would sound something very much like this. "The Vice and Virtue Ministry" is the title track from the Happy Bullets' second CD, released regionally in March on Undeniable Records; the album is set for a national release on November 1. The MP3 is available via the band's site.
"Chain Reaction" - 31 Knots
And now for something completely different: dense, complex, guitar-heavy neo-progressive rock from the Portland, Ore.-based trio 31 Knots. And yet I would not be here to foist this upon you if it were all intricate stop-start-y math-rock bloviation. Guitarist Joe Haerge plays with distinction, variation, and purpose, maintaining a shifting, surging energy throughout this long but engaging song. I'm thinking that not enough bands that record songs over five minutes understand how rewarding a more complex approach to song can be. Go back to those old Genesis records and you'll see that the songs were six, seven, eight minutes because they went places. The best part of "Chain Reaction" may well be the last two minutes, during which an intense instrumental break leads into a wholly new section of the song, including perhaps the most rewarding melodies of the whole piece. We've gotten a little too used to endless repetition padding out five-minute songs; here instead is a six-minute song that ends climactically, and leaves you wanting more. "Chain Reaction" comes from the band's fourth CD, Talk Like Blood, released last week on Polyvinyl Records. The MP3 is available via the Polyvinyl site.
"I Just Can't Fall In Love" - Bill Ricchini
And now consider this song, in yoga terms, to be the "counter-posture" to the previous song: open, flowing, melodic--an unabashedly "pop" song to re-wire the brain after all that intense intricacy. Here the hook is a simple-as-can-be five-note descent at the end of two of the four verse lines. Why does it slay me so? And yet it does, particularly when harmony vocals are added the second time around. The good-natured, '70s-style vibe pumps the song along at a nice clip, but it's that five-note descent that makes the song for me, and how well-suited it is to Ricchini's yearning, bittersweet voice. On another day maybe it's not enough to hang a song upon, but, hey, the sun is shining, the leaves are falling, and there's only so much intensity I can take in one sitting. Born and raised in Philadelphia, where he recorded his first CD bedroom-style to much acclaim, Ricchini is now New York City-based and signed to a small label. "I Just Can't Fall In Love" is from his second CD, Tonight I Burn Brightly, released in August on Transdreamer Records. The song is available through Music.download.com
week of Oct. 16-22
"The Vice and Virtue Ministry" - the Happy Bullets
Intertwining guitars, at once loopy and dainty, set the stage for this brisk, assured, and endlessly delightful tune. I am especially taken with lead singer Jason Roberts' fetching falsetto leaps--I love how his voice just flies upward at the end of a few key phrases, most of all when it happens so much in the middle of a lyrical line that he has to drop again as quickly as he went up. A five-piece band from Dallas (which includes Angela Roberts, Jason's wife, on bass), the Happy Bullets made the happy decision to work with producer Stuart Sikes (who has worked with Modest Mouse, the White Stripes, and the Walkmen, among others), whose sure touch enlivens this song in many different ways. I am unaccountably charmed, as an example, by the subtle acoustic strum that leads into the second verse (at 0:39), arising out of a maracas-like shaking sound just introduced out of the original loopy guitar line. And then of course there's the brilliant infusion of Kinks-ish spirit on display throughout. Being influenced by the Kinks is (praise the lord) no longer a novelty on the rock'n'roll scene, but I don't know that I've heard a 21st-century band take Ray Davies so delightfully into the here and now as these guys do. This isn't an homage and it's not nostalgia; Roberts doesn't even sound like Davies in any particular way. And yet this song so thoroughly embodies some key Kinksian vibe that if Davies had come of age in the '00s rather than the '60s his band I think would sound something very much like this. "The Vice and Virtue Ministry" is the title track from the Happy Bullets' second CD, released regionally in March on Undeniable Records; the album is set for a national release on November 1. The MP3 is available via the band's site.
"Chain Reaction" - 31 Knots
And now for something completely different: dense, complex, guitar-heavy neo-progressive rock from the Portland, Ore.-based trio 31 Knots. And yet I would not be here to foist this upon you if it were all intricate stop-start-y math-rock bloviation. Guitarist Joe Haerge plays with distinction, variation, and purpose, maintaining a shifting, surging energy throughout this long but engaging song. I'm thinking that not enough bands that record songs over five minutes understand how rewarding a more complex approach to song can be. Go back to those old Genesis records and you'll see that the songs were six, seven, eight minutes because they went places. The best part of "Chain Reaction" may well be the last two minutes, during which an intense instrumental break leads into a wholly new section of the song, including perhaps the most rewarding melodies of the whole piece. We've gotten a little too used to endless repetition padding out five-minute songs; here instead is a six-minute song that ends climactically, and leaves you wanting more. "Chain Reaction" comes from the band's fourth CD, Talk Like Blood, released last week on Polyvinyl Records. The MP3 is available via the Polyvinyl site.
"I Just Can't Fall In Love" - Bill Ricchini
And now consider this song, in yoga terms, to be the "counter-posture" to the previous song: open, flowing, melodic--an unabashedly "pop" song to re-wire the brain after all that intense intricacy. Here the hook is a simple-as-can-be five-note descent at the end of two of the four verse lines. Why does it slay me so? And yet it does, particularly when harmony vocals are added the second time around. The good-natured, '70s-style vibe pumps the song along at a nice clip, but it's that five-note descent that makes the song for me, and how well-suited it is to Ricchini's yearning, bittersweet voice. On another day maybe it's not enough to hang a song upon, but, hey, the sun is shining, the leaves are falling, and there's only so much intensity I can take in one sitting. Born and raised in Philadelphia, where he recorded his first CD bedroom-style to much acclaim, Ricchini is now New York City-based and signed to a small label. "I Just Can't Fall In Love" is from his second CD, Tonight I Burn Brightly, released in August on Transdreamer Records. The song is available through Music.download.com
Monday, October 10, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Oct. 9-15
"Popstar Reaching Oblivion" - Flotation Toy Warning
"Popstar Reaching Oblivion" has the sort of fully-realized ecstatic sonic goofiness that MP3 collectors like to link to the Flaming Lips but harkens more firmly back to the likes of 10cc, Genesis (yes, they actually had a sense of humor), and Queen. One of the things this quintet from London does with much aplomb is present a straightforward melody via a crazy quilt of sounds--a neat effect not unlike the more widely acknowledged pop effect of singing sad lyrics to happy music. In this case, the end result is a satisfying confusion: the ear hears complexity and simplicity overlappingly, which somehow resolves the polarity. First, the song's basic, recurring melody, a line of lullaby-like gentleness, is introduced via a searing guitar solo (itself an interesting juxtaposition). The same melody is then re-delivered via layers of soaring and diving sounds, some vocal and some electronic and some created by who-knows-what, weaving and interacting in ways that are specifically elusive and yet link in the ear as an organic whole. Singer Donald Drusky's earnest British tenor, recalling a somewhat huskier version of Robert Wyatt, is the perfect vocal instrument for the dreamy loopiness of it all; the homely yet graceful horns arriving to mingle with the electronics during the second half of this strangely haunting number are yet more perfect. "Popstar Reaching Oblivion" comes from the band's debut CD, Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck, released in the U.S. in August on Misra Records (the CD was originally released last year in the U.K. on Pointy Records). The MP3 is available on the Misra site.
"Skywriters" - Nicole Atkins
If Chrissie Hynde were Jeff Tweedy's sister and Roy Orbison were their uncle...oh, never mind. I'm losing patience with my effort to create evocative analogies. But there's no denying the Hynde-like timbre in this NYC-based singer/songwriter's voice, nor the touching, earnest early '60s vibe infusing this shimmering, knowingly produced song. As for the Wilco connection, well, listen to those chord changes (check out for example where she goes with the word "the" in the phrase "the people below" in the chorus). And that unexpectedly intense guitar work that kicks in around 1:48. And the fact that it's really hard to follow what she's singing about, even as it doesn't sound all that complicated either. Let the song loop in your media player for a while and see how its various charms unfold. In the end I maybe like the ghostly, plucky, chiming synthesizer (?) line from the introduction most of all--at once weird and comforting, it brings me back a few generations musically for no reason I can particularly identify. "Skywriters" is one of nine songs on her first CD, Party's Over, self-relesaed earlier this year. The MP3 is available via The Deli.
"Once You Know" - Le Reno Amps
Scotland's answer to They Might Be Giants, Le Reno Amps are two guys (Scott and Al) from Aberdeen with an idiosyncratic sense of song, playful ideas about making lo-fi production come to life, and an enviable knack for melody. The modus operandi is stripped-down, always geared around their two voices and two guitars. But there's goofiness in the air too, lending an ineffable magic to the aural landscape. "Once You Know" sounds like it was recorded in a gym, with bouncing balls and/or stamping feet ingeniously employed as the rhythm section for this sharp and sprightly down-home ditty. The song gets off to a great start based on melody alone; when the "percussion" kicks in with the second verse, ably accented by some hardy background "hey!"s, the song is unstoppable. The fully-whistled verse that starts at 1:14 appears at that point both a crazy surprise and utterly inevitable. "Once You Know" is from Le Reno Amps' archly-titled debut CD LP, released under their own (ha-ha) Vanity Project imprint last year. The MP3 is up on the band's site. A second CD is apparently in the works for these guys, due out some time in 2006.
week of Oct. 9-15
"Popstar Reaching Oblivion" - Flotation Toy Warning
"Popstar Reaching Oblivion" has the sort of fully-realized ecstatic sonic goofiness that MP3 collectors like to link to the Flaming Lips but harkens more firmly back to the likes of 10cc, Genesis (yes, they actually had a sense of humor), and Queen. One of the things this quintet from London does with much aplomb is present a straightforward melody via a crazy quilt of sounds--a neat effect not unlike the more widely acknowledged pop effect of singing sad lyrics to happy music. In this case, the end result is a satisfying confusion: the ear hears complexity and simplicity overlappingly, which somehow resolves the polarity. First, the song's basic, recurring melody, a line of lullaby-like gentleness, is introduced via a searing guitar solo (itself an interesting juxtaposition). The same melody is then re-delivered via layers of soaring and diving sounds, some vocal and some electronic and some created by who-knows-what, weaving and interacting in ways that are specifically elusive and yet link in the ear as an organic whole. Singer Donald Drusky's earnest British tenor, recalling a somewhat huskier version of Robert Wyatt, is the perfect vocal instrument for the dreamy loopiness of it all; the homely yet graceful horns arriving to mingle with the electronics during the second half of this strangely haunting number are yet more perfect. "Popstar Reaching Oblivion" comes from the band's debut CD, Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck, released in the U.S. in August on Misra Records (the CD was originally released last year in the U.K. on Pointy Records). The MP3 is available on the Misra site.
"Skywriters" - Nicole Atkins
If Chrissie Hynde were Jeff Tweedy's sister and Roy Orbison were their uncle...oh, never mind. I'm losing patience with my effort to create evocative analogies. But there's no denying the Hynde-like timbre in this NYC-based singer/songwriter's voice, nor the touching, earnest early '60s vibe infusing this shimmering, knowingly produced song. As for the Wilco connection, well, listen to those chord changes (check out for example where she goes with the word "the" in the phrase "the people below" in the chorus). And that unexpectedly intense guitar work that kicks in around 1:48. And the fact that it's really hard to follow what she's singing about, even as it doesn't sound all that complicated either. Let the song loop in your media player for a while and see how its various charms unfold. In the end I maybe like the ghostly, plucky, chiming synthesizer (?) line from the introduction most of all--at once weird and comforting, it brings me back a few generations musically for no reason I can particularly identify. "Skywriters" is one of nine songs on her first CD, Party's Over, self-relesaed earlier this year. The MP3 is available via The Deli.
"Once You Know" - Le Reno Amps
Scotland's answer to They Might Be Giants, Le Reno Amps are two guys (Scott and Al) from Aberdeen with an idiosyncratic sense of song, playful ideas about making lo-fi production come to life, and an enviable knack for melody. The modus operandi is stripped-down, always geared around their two voices and two guitars. But there's goofiness in the air too, lending an ineffable magic to the aural landscape. "Once You Know" sounds like it was recorded in a gym, with bouncing balls and/or stamping feet ingeniously employed as the rhythm section for this sharp and sprightly down-home ditty. The song gets off to a great start based on melody alone; when the "percussion" kicks in with the second verse, ably accented by some hardy background "hey!"s, the song is unstoppable. The fully-whistled verse that starts at 1:14 appears at that point both a crazy surprise and utterly inevitable. "Once You Know" is from Le Reno Amps' archly-titled debut CD LP, released under their own (ha-ha) Vanity Project imprint last year. The MP3 is up on the band's site. A second CD is apparently in the works for these guys, due out some time in 2006.
Monday, October 03, 2005
THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Oct. 2-8
"I Need A Moment Alone" - Ezra Reich
One part Bryan Ferry, one part B-52s, one part style-fixated NYC-based 21st-century rock'n'roller, Ezra Reich is, no doubt about it, just plain goofy. I can't claim to be big into musicians who throw a lot of energy into their "look," as such concern seems inevitably over-calculated. On the other hand, rock'n'roll history nevertheless indicates that one can never rule out a musician simply because he or she does cares about image/style, as there have been any number of worthy musicians (David Bowie, David Byrne, Prince, and the aforementioned Mr. Ferry come to mind) whose incisive sense of style was part of a rewarding musical package. One could also argue that a resolute lack of interest in so-called style can become its own sort of style (the entire grunge movement was more or less grounded in such an idea). In the end we listen with our ears, and in this case, my ears tell me this song is a fun, accomplished piece of pop, fusing elements of '80s synth-pop with Prince-ian bits of campy funk and who knows what else. It works unaccountably well, probably because if you're going to go over the top, you may as well go all the damned way. For me, when the female backup singer asks "You need a moment?" at 59 seconds, with all that deadpan come-hitherness, in the middle of an unexpected paean to self-reflection, well, I was pretty much hooked. "I Need A Moment Alone" is a song off Reich's soon-to-be self-released CD, Milkshake Arcade, which will be his second album. The MP3 is available via his site. Thanks to the redoubtable Largehearted Boy for the head's up.
"Doris" - the Dirty Three
I'm continually fascinated by rock'n'roll instrumentals, even as I remain skeptical of liking all that many. But every now and then one sneaks up and grabs me. "Doris," from the veteran Australian trio the Dirty Three, has a few great things going for it, from my perspective. Right away I love how the sharp, sliding rhythm is established by that great high-and-squonky guitar in the intro, and then how another guitar saws away with fuzzy fury at the bottom end of the sound. Aural landscape thus established, the middle part of the song is one grand, determined racket created by the unhinged interplay between an assortment of other, hitherto acoustic instruments (among which may be violin, mandolin, viola, and bagpipes), all underscored by the relentless beat, even as the drummer takes a backseat to the wild, vaguely Irish-sounding bray. It has the feel of a folk dance from the distant, re-forested future. About two and a half minutes in, the steady drummer re-emerges to drive this intense piece of music through its passionate conclusion. Dancers fall to the ground, exhausted and transcendent. "Doris" is a track from the Dirty Three's new CD, Cinder, slated for release next week on Touch and Go Records. The MP3 comes to us via the good folks at Filter Magazine.
"Darkest Hour" - the Spectacular Fantastic
And leave it to the Big Star-ian Cincinnati combo known as the Spectacular Fantastic to bring us back to solid ground with this brisk, likable, power-poppy chestnut. There may be nothing here my head hasn't sort of kind of heard before, but on the other hand, the sheer delight that courses through me as I listen tells my head that it is not my body's only musical input device. Though my head sure does enjoy taking what delights my heart and figuring out solid "reasons" for that delight. So, here, in the chorus, an effect I always love: how the melody associated with the words (in this case, "In the darkest hour") pulls up short of the harmonic resolution, which carries on afterwards, in the background, with that agreeably cheesy synthesizer line leading us into the resolving chord. The melody and chord pattern is pure basic traditional pop (straight out of "Heart and Soul") but performed with, yes, heart and soul by Mike Detmer and crew, this is music that will always sound fresh and vibrant to me. "Darkest Hour" is a song off the Spectacular Fantastic's new CD, The Spectacular Fantastic Goes Underground, released this week on Ionik Recordings. The MP3 resides on the band's site.
week of Oct. 2-8
"I Need A Moment Alone" - Ezra Reich
One part Bryan Ferry, one part B-52s, one part style-fixated NYC-based 21st-century rock'n'roller, Ezra Reich is, no doubt about it, just plain goofy. I can't claim to be big into musicians who throw a lot of energy into their "look," as such concern seems inevitably over-calculated. On the other hand, rock'n'roll history nevertheless indicates that one can never rule out a musician simply because he or she does cares about image/style, as there have been any number of worthy musicians (David Bowie, David Byrne, Prince, and the aforementioned Mr. Ferry come to mind) whose incisive sense of style was part of a rewarding musical package. One could also argue that a resolute lack of interest in so-called style can become its own sort of style (the entire grunge movement was more or less grounded in such an idea). In the end we listen with our ears, and in this case, my ears tell me this song is a fun, accomplished piece of pop, fusing elements of '80s synth-pop with Prince-ian bits of campy funk and who knows what else. It works unaccountably well, probably because if you're going to go over the top, you may as well go all the damned way. For me, when the female backup singer asks "You need a moment?" at 59 seconds, with all that deadpan come-hitherness, in the middle of an unexpected paean to self-reflection, well, I was pretty much hooked. "I Need A Moment Alone" is a song off Reich's soon-to-be self-released CD, Milkshake Arcade, which will be his second album. The MP3 is available via his site. Thanks to the redoubtable Largehearted Boy for the head's up.
"Doris" - the Dirty Three
I'm continually fascinated by rock'n'roll instrumentals, even as I remain skeptical of liking all that many. But every now and then one sneaks up and grabs me. "Doris," from the veteran Australian trio the Dirty Three, has a few great things going for it, from my perspective. Right away I love how the sharp, sliding rhythm is established by that great high-and-squonky guitar in the intro, and then how another guitar saws away with fuzzy fury at the bottom end of the sound. Aural landscape thus established, the middle part of the song is one grand, determined racket created by the unhinged interplay between an assortment of other, hitherto acoustic instruments (among which may be violin, mandolin, viola, and bagpipes), all underscored by the relentless beat, even as the drummer takes a backseat to the wild, vaguely Irish-sounding bray. It has the feel of a folk dance from the distant, re-forested future. About two and a half minutes in, the steady drummer re-emerges to drive this intense piece of music through its passionate conclusion. Dancers fall to the ground, exhausted and transcendent. "Doris" is a track from the Dirty Three's new CD, Cinder, slated for release next week on Touch and Go Records. The MP3 comes to us via the good folks at Filter Magazine.
"Darkest Hour" - the Spectacular Fantastic
And leave it to the Big Star-ian Cincinnati combo known as the Spectacular Fantastic to bring us back to solid ground with this brisk, likable, power-poppy chestnut. There may be nothing here my head hasn't sort of kind of heard before, but on the other hand, the sheer delight that courses through me as I listen tells my head that it is not my body's only musical input device. Though my head sure does enjoy taking what delights my heart and figuring out solid "reasons" for that delight. So, here, in the chorus, an effect I always love: how the melody associated with the words (in this case, "In the darkest hour") pulls up short of the harmonic resolution, which carries on afterwards, in the background, with that agreeably cheesy synthesizer line leading us into the resolving chord. The melody and chord pattern is pure basic traditional pop (straight out of "Heart and Soul") but performed with, yes, heart and soul by Mike Detmer and crew, this is music that will always sound fresh and vibrant to me. "Darkest Hour" is a song off the Spectacular Fantastic's new CD, The Spectacular Fantastic Goes Underground, released this week on Ionik Recordings. The MP3 resides on the band's site.
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