Time to check back in with the Fingertips Top 10, that shape-shifting, ear-bending list of pure free and legal MP3 goodness. Since the last post here on June 4, the chart has changed quite a bit, and now aligns as follows (songs that have been added since early June are marked with an asterisk):
1. "Albert" - Ed Laurie*
2. "I Lost the Monkey" - the Wedding Present*
3. "Animé Eyes" - the Awkward Stage
4. "My Mistakes Were Made For You" - the Last Shadow Puppets*
5. "Spirit of '95" - Murdocks*
6. "Say Yes" - Afternoons*
7. "Yer Motion" - Reeve Oliver
8. "Boarded Doors" - the Morning Benders
9. "Black Lungs" - the New Frontiers
10. "Was I On Your Mind" - Jessie Baylin*
Ed Laurie's haunting song "Albert" came to the chart this week, just as the previous number-one song, "Right Away" by Pattern is Movement, had reached its three-month anniversary and had to be retired. It's not often that a song enters at number one, but timing, as they say, is everything. Songs can shift around a bit as the weeks go by, depending upon three things: which songs have to leave, which new songs arrive, and how songs grow on me over time. "I Lost the Monkey" is a good example of a song that just keeps sounding better and better to me; it might have moved up from number four to number one this week had not the compelling Mr. Laurie appeared.
For those relatively new to Fingertips, note that the Top 10 list is my way of putting a little bit of extra attention on ten particularly wonderful songs at any given time. It's important to remember, however, that Fingertips only features carefully filtered music to begin with, so you can't go wrong with any of the MP3s featured here.
Songs remain in the Top 10 for a maximum of three months, before they are retired to the Retired Top 10 Songs page, of all places.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Free and legal MP3 from Ed Laurie (Leonard Cohen meets Jacques Brel, with Spanish guitar)
"Albert" - Ed Laurie
Wow. Warm and wondrous neo-folk from a young British singer/songwriter. Listen to the stirring tension in the verse--the song is quiet, but with a restless heartbeat--and then how it resolves in that gorgeous chorus with its shy, unexpected melody. Oh my. For me, this is goosebump material, and I don't say that lightly, or very often.
Although he is basically a guy with a guitar, Laurie does not sound like a typical singer/songwriter, both because of his husky baritone, with its air of bygone days about it, and because the guitar he plays is nylon-stringed, like a flamenco guitar, which he plays with a gentle but urgent flow, full of intimations of far-away times and cultures. He plays, also, with an ear for his accompaniment, which is a quiet and knowing mix of acoustic instruments, including a clarinet, which in particular feels both unexpected and ideal.
Laurie claims influences from a variety of musical traditions--born in London, he has extended family in Eastern Europe, Germany, Spain, and Brazil, and grew up listening to classical music. His press material offers comparisons to the likes of Leonard Cohen, Nick Drake, and Jacques Brel, which sounds about right to me. "Albert" is from Laurie's debut EP, Meanwhile in the Park, which was previously released on iTunes only and is slated for a full U.S. release on Dangerbird Records in October. Laurie is currently working on his first full-length album, to be called Small Boat Big Sea.
Wow. Warm and wondrous neo-folk from a young British singer/songwriter. Listen to the stirring tension in the verse--the song is quiet, but with a restless heartbeat--and then how it resolves in that gorgeous chorus with its shy, unexpected melody. Oh my. For me, this is goosebump material, and I don't say that lightly, or very often.
Although he is basically a guy with a guitar, Laurie does not sound like a typical singer/songwriter, both because of his husky baritone, with its air of bygone days about it, and because the guitar he plays is nylon-stringed, like a flamenco guitar, which he plays with a gentle but urgent flow, full of intimations of far-away times and cultures. He plays, also, with an ear for his accompaniment, which is a quiet and knowing mix of acoustic instruments, including a clarinet, which in particular feels both unexpected and ideal.
Laurie claims influences from a variety of musical traditions--born in London, he has extended family in Eastern Europe, Germany, Spain, and Brazil, and grew up listening to classical music. His press material offers comparisons to the likes of Leonard Cohen, Nick Drake, and Jacques Brel, which sounds about right to me. "Albert" is from Laurie's debut EP, Meanwhile in the Park, which was previously released on iTunes only and is slated for a full U.S. release on Dangerbird Records in October. Laurie is currently working on his first full-length album, to be called Small Boat Big Sea.
Free and legal MP3 from Shannon McArdle (hypnotic, Phair-esque post-divorce pain)
"Poison My Cup" - Shannon McArdle
Creating a world of hurt and yearning out of a repetitive two-chord riff isn't probably the easiest thing to do, but Shannon McArdle appears to have a lot of hurt to spare."Poison My Cup" not only succeeds, but when it ends, I'm not ready. The evocative vocals, sounding like a prettier-voiced Liz Phair ('90s version); the strong yet insouciant bass line; the oddly uncelebratory tambourine; the steady, intermittently forceful drumbeat--together they create a brisk, hypnotic dirge of a song, complete with mournful wailing at just the right moments. I could listen to this just about all day.
The backstory of the hurt: McArdle joined the band the Mendoza Line in 2000, and married bandmate Timothy Bracy in 2005. Both the band and the couple both broke up within the last year; the mini-album 30 Year Low, released last August, was a searing document of the divorce.
"Poison My Cup" suggests that McArdle is still processing the painful events of the past year or so, as does the title of the album on which you'll find the song--Summer of the Whore, which is scheduled for release next month on Bar/None Records. MP3 via Bar/None.
Creating a world of hurt and yearning out of a repetitive two-chord riff isn't probably the easiest thing to do, but Shannon McArdle appears to have a lot of hurt to spare."Poison My Cup" not only succeeds, but when it ends, I'm not ready. The evocative vocals, sounding like a prettier-voiced Liz Phair ('90s version); the strong yet insouciant bass line; the oddly uncelebratory tambourine; the steady, intermittently forceful drumbeat--together they create a brisk, hypnotic dirge of a song, complete with mournful wailing at just the right moments. I could listen to this just about all day.
The backstory of the hurt: McArdle joined the band the Mendoza Line in 2000, and married bandmate Timothy Bracy in 2005. Both the band and the couple both broke up within the last year; the mini-album 30 Year Low, released last August, was a searing document of the divorce.
"Poison My Cup" suggests that McArdle is still processing the painful events of the past year or so, as does the title of the album on which you'll find the song--Summer of the Whore, which is scheduled for release next month on Bar/None Records. MP3 via Bar/None.
Free and legal MP3 from the Very Most (breezy, summery indie pop)
"Good Fight Fighting" - the Very Most
This breezy slice of summery indie pop might've glided by my ears without quite sticking were it not for the subtle but significant fork in the road the song takes during its final third: at 1:47, the music modulates, the melody turns inside out, and the lead vocal is hijacked by the female backup vocalist, Rachel Jensen. Rachel is the sister of Jeremy Jensen, the Very Most's front man, and she used to be in the band herself before she left Boise. The Very Most is based in Boise, a fact the band itself finds a bit unlikely, so imagine how the rest of us feel. (Rachel moved to the decidedly more indie-rock-like town of Portland, Oregon, where she now can be found in the band the Parenthetical Girls.)
But I digress. The point is that Rachel, taking over at 1:47, not only holds her own, but converts the entire song into a winner, especially in retrospect. Try it for yourself: once you see where the song ends up, you'll enjoy the opening half all the more. (Don't miss the way Rachel's melody veers from the previous melody of the verse, and be sure to note the whistling that accompanies her: that's the original melody.) All this is to take nothing whatever away from the three regulars in the band (who create just the right jingly ambiance), and most of all Jeremy Jensen, who is a delightful singer in his own right, spending time here demonstrating how much alike Brian Wilson and Stuart Murdoch (Belle and Sebastian) sound after all. And it is J. Jensen's inventive pop sensibility that presides over the whole, increasingly wonderful concoction: on top of all the nicely conceived production touches (the album claims to feature some 33 different instruments/sound sources), it was Jeremy, I assume, who knew enough to have Rachel step in exactly when and how she did in the first place.
"Good Fight Fighting" is a song off the band's second CD, Congratulations Forever, which was self-released in April. MP3 courtesy of the band.
This breezy slice of summery indie pop might've glided by my ears without quite sticking were it not for the subtle but significant fork in the road the song takes during its final third: at 1:47, the music modulates, the melody turns inside out, and the lead vocal is hijacked by the female backup vocalist, Rachel Jensen. Rachel is the sister of Jeremy Jensen, the Very Most's front man, and she used to be in the band herself before she left Boise. The Very Most is based in Boise, a fact the band itself finds a bit unlikely, so imagine how the rest of us feel. (Rachel moved to the decidedly more indie-rock-like town of Portland, Oregon, where she now can be found in the band the Parenthetical Girls.)
But I digress. The point is that Rachel, taking over at 1:47, not only holds her own, but converts the entire song into a winner, especially in retrospect. Try it for yourself: once you see where the song ends up, you'll enjoy the opening half all the more. (Don't miss the way Rachel's melody veers from the previous melody of the verse, and be sure to note the whistling that accompanies her: that's the original melody.) All this is to take nothing whatever away from the three regulars in the band (who create just the right jingly ambiance), and most of all Jeremy Jensen, who is a delightful singer in his own right, spending time here demonstrating how much alike Brian Wilson and Stuart Murdoch (Belle and Sebastian) sound after all. And it is J. Jensen's inventive pop sensibility that presides over the whole, increasingly wonderful concoction: on top of all the nicely conceived production touches (the album claims to feature some 33 different instruments/sound sources), it was Jeremy, I assume, who knew enough to have Rachel step in exactly when and how she did in the first place.
"Good Fight Fighting" is a song off the band's second CD, Congratulations Forever, which was self-released in April. MP3 courtesy of the band.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Last chance to enter Strummer contest
There's still a little time left to enter the Joe Strummer contest--deadline for entry is this Thursday, July 24. Three winners will each get two related prizes: a copy of the movie The Future Is Unwritten on DVD, and a copy of the movie's soundtrack on CD. The Future Is Unwritten is a documentary about the life of the late, lamented Joe Strummer, released on DVD earlier this month.
Free and legal MP3 from Liz Durrett (engaging, inscrutable, vaguely Fleetwood Macky)
"Wild as Them" - Liz Durrett
Liz Durrett returns to Fingertips with an immediately engaging, slightly off-kilter piece of gently chugging pop, like some lost Fleetwood Mac hit funneled through the Twilight Zone. The lyrics are elusive and strange--"I look for your bones in the woods" is surely one of the more arresting opening lines of recent days (although she may be saying "words"; and it's still odd). The music is comforting melodically--rolling along without a chorus, featuring a blues-like repetition of each opening refrain--but a touch unhinged instrumentally: guitars squeak, horns gather in increasing multitudes, and some other sounds I can't quite put my finger on fill in along the way.
Accentuating the F-Mac-ishness is the way Durrett's mellow alto brings Christine McVie to mind, although somewhat imprecisely. McVie sings with a smoky clarity that Durrett avoids; her voice, although doubletracked, is mixed down a bit. We know she's singing but the words often elude recognition, adding to the tune's inscrutable aura.
"Wild as Them" is a song from Durrett's forthcoming CD, Outside the Gates. The Athens, Ga.-based singer/songwriter has enlisted a spirited crew of fellow Athenians to help out on the record, including members of Olivia Tremor Control, Tin Cup Prophette, and Elf Power, along with Vic Chestnutt, who happens to be Durrett's uncle. Eric Bachmann (Crooked Fingers, Archers of Loaf) produced and arranged the album, scheduled for release in September on Warm Electronic Recordings (based in Athens too, of course).
Liz Durrett returns to Fingertips with an immediately engaging, slightly off-kilter piece of gently chugging pop, like some lost Fleetwood Mac hit funneled through the Twilight Zone. The lyrics are elusive and strange--"I look for your bones in the woods" is surely one of the more arresting opening lines of recent days (although she may be saying "words"; and it's still odd). The music is comforting melodically--rolling along without a chorus, featuring a blues-like repetition of each opening refrain--but a touch unhinged instrumentally: guitars squeak, horns gather in increasing multitudes, and some other sounds I can't quite put my finger on fill in along the way.
Accentuating the F-Mac-ishness is the way Durrett's mellow alto brings Christine McVie to mind, although somewhat imprecisely. McVie sings with a smoky clarity that Durrett avoids; her voice, although doubletracked, is mixed down a bit. We know she's singing but the words often elude recognition, adding to the tune's inscrutable aura.
"Wild as Them" is a song from Durrett's forthcoming CD, Outside the Gates. The Athens, Ga.-based singer/songwriter has enlisted a spirited crew of fellow Athenians to help out on the record, including members of Olivia Tremor Control, Tin Cup Prophette, and Elf Power, along with Vic Chestnutt, who happens to be Durrett's uncle. Eric Bachmann (Crooked Fingers, Archers of Loaf) produced and arranged the album, scheduled for release in September on Warm Electronic Recordings (based in Athens too, of course).
Free and legal MP3 from Shugo Tokumaru (Japanese indie pop with nostalgic flair)
"Parachute" - Shugo Tokumaru
Acrobatic, lighthearted Japanese indie pop with, somehow, the breezy flair of a European art film from the '60s. I don't think any of this is in English except for the title word, which comes across, rather charmingly, as "pra-shoo." And by saying "Japanese indie pop" I really only mean that Tokumaru is from Japan--the music itself exists in a wonderful sort of trans-cultural, trans-spatial limbo that mixes influences and ambiances in that web-fed, 21st-century way that ends up sounding as new as it does familiar, and as familiar as it does new.
While exhibiting an almost Leo Kottke-like dexterity with the acoustic guitar, Tokumaru possesses a decidedly un-Kottke-like voice: it's an airy, wide-ranging tenor that is nicely suited to the breezy, nostalgic melody. (For those who don't know, Leo Kottke is a guitar virtuoso who once, famously, described his singing voice as "geese farts on a foggy day." Born in Athens, Georgia.) The tinkly, persistent xylophone adds to the vigorous yet delicate landscape.
"Parachute" is the opening track on Tokumaru's Exit CD, which was released in Japan last year, and is slated for a U.S. release in September on Almost Gold Records. MP3 via Pitchfork.
Acrobatic, lighthearted Japanese indie pop with, somehow, the breezy flair of a European art film from the '60s. I don't think any of this is in English except for the title word, which comes across, rather charmingly, as "pra-shoo." And by saying "Japanese indie pop" I really only mean that Tokumaru is from Japan--the music itself exists in a wonderful sort of trans-cultural, trans-spatial limbo that mixes influences and ambiances in that web-fed, 21st-century way that ends up sounding as new as it does familiar, and as familiar as it does new.
While exhibiting an almost Leo Kottke-like dexterity with the acoustic guitar, Tokumaru possesses a decidedly un-Kottke-like voice: it's an airy, wide-ranging tenor that is nicely suited to the breezy, nostalgic melody. (For those who don't know, Leo Kottke is a guitar virtuoso who once, famously, described his singing voice as "geese farts on a foggy day." Born in Athens, Georgia.) The tinkly, persistent xylophone adds to the vigorous yet delicate landscape.
"Parachute" is the opening track on Tokumaru's Exit CD, which was released in Japan last year, and is slated for a U.S. release in September on Almost Gold Records. MP3 via Pitchfork.
Free and legal MP3 from Francis and the Lights (minimalist, postmodern funk, with mysterious depth)
"Night Watchman" - Francis and the Lights
They've done it again: Brooklyn's Francis and the Lights have woven enigmatic magic with the barest threads of their minimalist, postmodern funk. The melody is slower this time, but the beat remains the same, sustained by fidgety electronics, fat bass lines, and wonderfully controlled drumming. For this new single, front man Francis Farewell Starlite leaves behind the Prince-like falsetto in favor of his throaty, emotive lower register, once again singing a song that eschews a sense of recognizable structure. Just when you think you're getting your arms around what's going on, the thing ends, on a dime. After many listens, I find that I still can't explain exactly what's happening here. This strikes me as an appealing thing.
By the way, if you don't tend to listen to the weekly picks here as a mini mixtape, one after the other, I suggest trying it this week. It's a spiffy set.
Known for their stirring live performances, Francis and the Lights keep an intriguingly low web profile, although now at least we are offered up a straightforward picture of (I'm assuming) Francis himself. "Night Watchman" is available on the band's site, and will be on a CD entitled A Modern Promise, to be released at some unspecified time in the, perhaps, near future. The record label, Normative, appears to be the band's own imprint, and as such has an equally minimalist web site. MP3 via the band.
They've done it again: Brooklyn's Francis and the Lights have woven enigmatic magic with the barest threads of their minimalist, postmodern funk. The melody is slower this time, but the beat remains the same, sustained by fidgety electronics, fat bass lines, and wonderfully controlled drumming. For this new single, front man Francis Farewell Starlite leaves behind the Prince-like falsetto in favor of his throaty, emotive lower register, once again singing a song that eschews a sense of recognizable structure. Just when you think you're getting your arms around what's going on, the thing ends, on a dime. After many listens, I find that I still can't explain exactly what's happening here. This strikes me as an appealing thing.
By the way, if you don't tend to listen to the weekly picks here as a mini mixtape, one after the other, I suggest trying it this week. It's a spiffy set.
Known for their stirring live performances, Francis and the Lights keep an intriguingly low web profile, although now at least we are offered up a straightforward picture of (I'm assuming) Francis himself. "Night Watchman" is available on the band's site, and will be on a CD entitled A Modern Promise, to be released at some unspecified time in the, perhaps, near future. The record label, Normative, appears to be the band's own imprint, and as such has an equally minimalist web site. MP3 via the band.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Strummer Contest still active
The Fingertips Contest remains open for entry. Three winners this time will each get two related prizes: a copy of the movie The Future Is Unwritten on DVD, and a copy of the movie's soundtrack on CD. The Future Is Unwritten is a documentary about the life of the late, lamented Joe Strummer, released last week on DVD. Deadline is Thursday, July 24; contest details here.
Free and legal MP3 from Ancient Free Gardeners (distinctive, meandering yet meticulous rock from Australia)
"Innards Out" - Ancient Free Gardeners
I'm attracted to the meandering feeling of this song--the way it starts as if already in the middle (note: no introduction), and unfolds in an off-kilter way--because underneath I sense a meticulous purpose and drive. Vague and precise is a compelling juxtaposition. Because of the mysterious lyrical phrases, the desultory guitar lines, the stops and starts, and the oddball chords, I'm picking up something of a Steely Dan-ish vibe, by way of the Blue Nile; nothing, in any case, seems to be happening by accident. And when the song finally delivers us to an unabashed--if still eccentric--chorus, I feel as if some sort of salvation is at hand. And yet listen to how the song pulls away from an uncomplicated resolution: when front man James Milsom sings the words "the spider and the fly," by rights the word "fly" would come accompanied with a clear, satisfying, resolving chord. No such luck, however--we are taken to the brink and then everything scoots out the side door: Milsom dismembers the last line "We are both of these, you and I," dragging out the word "are," then offering the last two phrases as a kind of quizzical afterthought.
And when the song is over, it ends. This is entirely refreshing.
Ancient Free Gardeners are a quartet from Melbourne that has only been up and running since 2006. They released their debut EP last year and have put out two singles since; "Innards Out" is the latest, released in May. A full-length CD is expected later this year. All their songs, by the way, are available as free and legal downloads on their web site, including this one.
I'm attracted to the meandering feeling of this song--the way it starts as if already in the middle (note: no introduction), and unfolds in an off-kilter way--because underneath I sense a meticulous purpose and drive. Vague and precise is a compelling juxtaposition. Because of the mysterious lyrical phrases, the desultory guitar lines, the stops and starts, and the oddball chords, I'm picking up something of a Steely Dan-ish vibe, by way of the Blue Nile; nothing, in any case, seems to be happening by accident. And when the song finally delivers us to an unabashed--if still eccentric--chorus, I feel as if some sort of salvation is at hand. And yet listen to how the song pulls away from an uncomplicated resolution: when front man James Milsom sings the words "the spider and the fly," by rights the word "fly" would come accompanied with a clear, satisfying, resolving chord. No such luck, however--we are taken to the brink and then everything scoots out the side door: Milsom dismembers the last line "We are both of these, you and I," dragging out the word "are," then offering the last two phrases as a kind of quizzical afterthought.
And when the song is over, it ends. This is entirely refreshing.
Ancient Free Gardeners are a quartet from Melbourne that has only been up and running since 2006. They released their debut EP last year and have put out two singles since; "Innards Out" is the latest, released in May. A full-length CD is expected later this year. All their songs, by the way, are available as free and legal downloads on their web site, including this one.
Free and legal MP3 from Haley Bonar (insistent, bittersweet, textured singer/songwriter pop)
"Big Star" - Haley Bonar
Rock'n'roll history is littered with singers dreaming of hitting the big time. That fame is in fact a double-edged sword is not something people usually apprehend until after they've been there (and then it's kind of too late). Here, however, is a song that captures, in anticipation, the bittersweet repercussions of "big stardom," both lyrically and--more memorably, to me--musically. My ears are struck throughout by an insistent sense of yearning, thanks to the major-minor chord shifts, the terrific and evocative instrumentation, and something achy and knowing in Bonar's clear, sad-eyed voice.
Pay attention to what's going on in the background throughout the song. Electric and acoustic guitars, backing vocals, and Bonar's mellotron are woven together with a complex and rather dazzling deftness, and yet remain subtle enough that often you have to think to hear them. The ridiculously experienced Tchad Blake (Elvis Costello, Pearl Jam, Peter Gabriel, Crowded House, et al) is credited at the mixing board here, and no doubt he had something to do with the mysterious yet vivid texture that transforms this from a simple singer/songwriter tune into something deeper and richer.
Born in South Dakota, Bonar is based in Minneapolis. "Big Star" is the title track to her third CD, which was released in May on Afternoon Records. MP3 via the Afternoon web site.
Rock'n'roll history is littered with singers dreaming of hitting the big time. That fame is in fact a double-edged sword is not something people usually apprehend until after they've been there (and then it's kind of too late). Here, however, is a song that captures, in anticipation, the bittersweet repercussions of "big stardom," both lyrically and--more memorably, to me--musically. My ears are struck throughout by an insistent sense of yearning, thanks to the major-minor chord shifts, the terrific and evocative instrumentation, and something achy and knowing in Bonar's clear, sad-eyed voice.
Pay attention to what's going on in the background throughout the song. Electric and acoustic guitars, backing vocals, and Bonar's mellotron are woven together with a complex and rather dazzling deftness, and yet remain subtle enough that often you have to think to hear them. The ridiculously experienced Tchad Blake (Elvis Costello, Pearl Jam, Peter Gabriel, Crowded House, et al) is credited at the mixing board here, and no doubt he had something to do with the mysterious yet vivid texture that transforms this from a simple singer/songwriter tune into something deeper and richer.
Born in South Dakota, Bonar is based in Minneapolis. "Big Star" is the title track to her third CD, which was released in May on Afternoon Records. MP3 via the Afternoon web site.
Free and legal MP3 from Dead Heart Bloom (indie rockers who love their Bowie and Mott)
"Our Last Martyr" - Dead Heart Bloom
Brisk, friendly, and slightly quirky, "Our Last Martyr" rocks with an unapologetic reverence for classic rock of the early-to-mid-'70s British variety (think Lennon, think Bowie, think Hunter). Front man Boris Skalsky sings, alternately, with an intimate, oddly-accented purr (the verse) and a rousing Ziggy-ish flair (the chorus). Note how the verse is sung with the rhythm section only--just bass and percussion providing an itchy aural skeleton for Skalsky's distinctive baritone. For that sing-along chorus, the full band kicks in, driven by the ear-catching interplay between a crisp acoustic rhythm guitar front and center and a soaring synth line up on top. The second half of the song is something of a jam session, as guitarist Paul Wood stretches out a bit on electric lead before we're swept away by a chorus of almost hypnotic "oo-oo-oo" vocals from Skalsky, who can hit the high notes too.
The core of NYC-based Dead Heart Bloom is singer/multi-instrumentalist Skalsky and guitarist Wood; other musicians play when the band performs lives. "Our Last Martyr" is one of five songs on the new Fall In EP, one of a series of EPs scheduled for release this year on the band's KEI Records label. The band has previously put out two full-length CDs. All songs are available on the band's web site as free and legal MP3s. Dead Heart Bloom was previously featured on Fingertips in Feb. '06, and also on the Fingertips: Unwebbed CD, when the band was still more of a solo project for Skalsky.
Brisk, friendly, and slightly quirky, "Our Last Martyr" rocks with an unapologetic reverence for classic rock of the early-to-mid-'70s British variety (think Lennon, think Bowie, think Hunter). Front man Boris Skalsky sings, alternately, with an intimate, oddly-accented purr (the verse) and a rousing Ziggy-ish flair (the chorus). Note how the verse is sung with the rhythm section only--just bass and percussion providing an itchy aural skeleton for Skalsky's distinctive baritone. For that sing-along chorus, the full band kicks in, driven by the ear-catching interplay between a crisp acoustic rhythm guitar front and center and a soaring synth line up on top. The second half of the song is something of a jam session, as guitarist Paul Wood stretches out a bit on electric lead before we're swept away by a chorus of almost hypnotic "oo-oo-oo" vocals from Skalsky, who can hit the high notes too.
The core of NYC-based Dead Heart Bloom is singer/multi-instrumentalist Skalsky and guitarist Wood; other musicians play when the band performs lives. "Our Last Martyr" is one of five songs on the new Fall In EP, one of a series of EPs scheduled for release this year on the band's KEI Records label. The band has previously put out two full-length CDs. All songs are available on the band's web site as free and legal MP3s. Dead Heart Bloom was previously featured on Fingertips in Feb. '06, and also on the Fingertips: Unwebbed CD, when the band was still more of a solo project for Skalsky.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Free and legal MP3 from Still Corners (chimey, dreamy, well-constructed goodness)
"History of Love" - Still Corners
Swaying, reverb-laced, and nostalgic in a Julee Cruise/David Lynch sort of way, "History of Love" swirls with a big, chimey dreaminess enhanced by strings (both plucked and bowed) and a soaring organ that all but launches this one into some old-fashioned, Jetsons-like version of outer space.
So, dream pop, yes. But while indie bands aiming in this direction too frequently slide into a murky mush of echo--droning guitars and mixed-down vocals working together to diminish the sense that we are in fact listening to a song--the unsigned British duo Still Corners will have none of that. They get the idea that being atmospheric does not require muddiness. I like how they continually ground their reverberant vibe in concrete sonic reality, whether it's those plucky strings, the nicely articulated bass, the cymbally drum work, or vocalist Olivia's breathy, echoey, but distinctly colored singing. Note, too, the care and idiosyncrasy displayed by the song itself--in particular, how we get that crazy-swirly blast of dreamy yearning, without lyrics, in place of an actual chorus.
London-based Still Corners have so far released one evocatively designed six-song EP, entitled Remember Pepper?. That's where you'll find "History of Love." MP3 via Last.fm and the band.
Swaying, reverb-laced, and nostalgic in a Julee Cruise/David Lynch sort of way, "History of Love" swirls with a big, chimey dreaminess enhanced by strings (both plucked and bowed) and a soaring organ that all but launches this one into some old-fashioned, Jetsons-like version of outer space.
So, dream pop, yes. But while indie bands aiming in this direction too frequently slide into a murky mush of echo--droning guitars and mixed-down vocals working together to diminish the sense that we are in fact listening to a song--the unsigned British duo Still Corners will have none of that. They get the idea that being atmospheric does not require muddiness. I like how they continually ground their reverberant vibe in concrete sonic reality, whether it's those plucky strings, the nicely articulated bass, the cymbally drum work, or vocalist Olivia's breathy, echoey, but distinctly colored singing. Note, too, the care and idiosyncrasy displayed by the song itself--in particular, how we get that crazy-swirly blast of dreamy yearning, without lyrics, in place of an actual chorus.
London-based Still Corners have so far released one evocatively designed six-song EP, entitled Remember Pepper?. That's where you'll find "History of Love." MP3 via Last.fm and the band.
Free and legal MP3 from Murdocks (edgy power pop)
"Spirit of '95" - Murdocks
Sunny power pop crossed with something trickier and edgier. I hesitate, however, to use the "punk pop" (or is it "pop punk"?) label, because to me that implies something (sorry to say) dumber and less nuanced that this little two-minute gem. Not that many punk pop bands write in 3/4 time, to begin with. This is no waltz, however--these guys have figured out how to make three-beated measures sound assertive and symmetrical. Punchy verses with an ascending tail alternate with an almost lilting chorus...and that's more or less the song. The lyrics basically stop less than halfway through; the song has such intriguing momentum one barely notices.
A lot of "Spirit of '95"'s edginess is delivered via singer/guitarist Franklin Morris's no holds barred singing--he sounds perpetually on the verge of screaming, and yet comes across as warm and musical at the same time. Some of that feeling is generated specifically from the chorus, with its attractive, downward-trending, octave-spanning melody. I like by the way how he then uses a guitar break to give us a nice variation of the same line. That'll really get it stuck in your head.
Murdocks are a trio from Austin that have been playing since 2003, although no longer with their original drummer or bass player. "Spirit of '95" is from the band's Roar! EP, which was released in April on Surprise Truck Entertainment.
Sunny power pop crossed with something trickier and edgier. I hesitate, however, to use the "punk pop" (or is it "pop punk"?) label, because to me that implies something (sorry to say) dumber and less nuanced that this little two-minute gem. Not that many punk pop bands write in 3/4 time, to begin with. This is no waltz, however--these guys have figured out how to make three-beated measures sound assertive and symmetrical. Punchy verses with an ascending tail alternate with an almost lilting chorus...and that's more or less the song. The lyrics basically stop less than halfway through; the song has such intriguing momentum one barely notices.
A lot of "Spirit of '95"'s edginess is delivered via singer/guitarist Franklin Morris's no holds barred singing--he sounds perpetually on the verge of screaming, and yet comes across as warm and musical at the same time. Some of that feeling is generated specifically from the chorus, with its attractive, downward-trending, octave-spanning melody. I like by the way how he then uses a guitar break to give us a nice variation of the same line. That'll really get it stuck in your head.
Murdocks are a trio from Austin that have been playing since 2003, although no longer with their original drummer or bass player. "Spirit of '95" is from the band's Roar! EP, which was released in April on Surprise Truck Entertainment.
Free and legal MP3 from Mark Northfield (alt-classical 'pop' from British pianist/composer)
"Zero" - Mark Northfield
And now for something completely different. Mark Northfield is a British pianist, composer, arranger, and sometime singer who has here taken his classical training and focused it on the production of something almost but not quite resembling a pop song. Beginning quietly, with voice and piano, "Zero" adds guitar, strings, and, eventually, a choir-like array of backing vocals; the piece evolves gently but determinedly towards two climaxes, the first string-driven, contained, and unresolved (roughly 3:08 through 3:25), the second louder, more fervent, and choral (beginning around 5:06).
Pay attention throughout to the string arrangements, which are expressive but never pushy; the song is half over before he puts the strings center stage, and some of the nicest work comes after their "solo," when the violins, with restraint, offer high fills between lyrical phrases.
"Zero" is a song from the CD Ascendant, which Northfield released on his own Substantive Recordings label earlier this year. On eight of the songs, Northfield doesn't sing himself, employing an assortment of guest vocalists, but on "Zero," it's him. An important aspect of the CD is that the nine songs are presented in an uninterrupted flow--as Northfield notes on his web site, the album is "designed to be heard (in a shuffle-free world) from start to finish, with introductions to each track lifting re-arranged fragments from elsewhere on the album to create a more or less continuous soundtrack." And yet Northfield is of course not unaware of how most people listen to their music in the 21st century; he is kind enough to offer seven of the songs in so-called "chopped" mode on his web site, including "Zero." Thanks to Owen Duff, himself a Fingertips-featured artist, for the head's up.
And now for something completely different. Mark Northfield is a British pianist, composer, arranger, and sometime singer who has here taken his classical training and focused it on the production of something almost but not quite resembling a pop song. Beginning quietly, with voice and piano, "Zero" adds guitar, strings, and, eventually, a choir-like array of backing vocals; the piece evolves gently but determinedly towards two climaxes, the first string-driven, contained, and unresolved (roughly 3:08 through 3:25), the second louder, more fervent, and choral (beginning around 5:06).
Pay attention throughout to the string arrangements, which are expressive but never pushy; the song is half over before he puts the strings center stage, and some of the nicest work comes after their "solo," when the violins, with restraint, offer high fills between lyrical phrases.
"Zero" is a song from the CD Ascendant, which Northfield released on his own Substantive Recordings label earlier this year. On eight of the songs, Northfield doesn't sing himself, employing an assortment of guest vocalists, but on "Zero," it's him. An important aspect of the CD is that the nine songs are presented in an uninterrupted flow--as Northfield notes on his web site, the album is "designed to be heard (in a shuffle-free world) from start to finish, with introductions to each track lifting re-arranged fragments from elsewhere on the album to create a more or less continuous soundtrack." And yet Northfield is of course not unaware of how most people listen to their music in the 21st century; he is kind enough to offer seven of the songs in so-called "chopped" mode on his web site, including "Zero." Thanks to Owen Duff, himself a Fingertips-featured artist, for the head's up.
Monday, July 07, 2008
New Fingertips Contest: win the Joe Strummer documentary, plus soundtrack
There's a new Fingertips Contest, now online, with two related prizes: a copy of the movie The Future Is Unwritten on DVD, and a copy of the movie's soundtrack on CD. The Future Is Unwritten is a documentary about the life of the late, lamented Joe Strummer, due out on DVD this week. Contest details here.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Tough and crunchy free and legal MP3 from Amy Ray (Indigo Girl, gone solo, kicks ass)
"Blame is a Killer" - Amy Ray
Tough, tight, crunchy rock'n'roll from Indigo Girl Amy Ray, who for the third time now trots out her kick-ass side on a solo record. Nothing complicated to report on, just a fast, slashing guitar attack counterbalanced by some nice chords and background harmonies in the chorus.
That said, listen to how concise a sound Ray is working with here--the song rocks hard, but there's no sloppiness, no stray sounds, no wailing or echoing guitars, no extraneous drum bashing, no casually interacting instruments; "Blame is a Killer" drives forward with the compressed vitality of a Strokes song, leading me to half expect to hear Ray's voice processed through some sort of filter or distortion. Maybe that's why the fully sung and harmonized chorus feels especially refreshing after the clipped vocal phrases utilized in the verses.
"Blame is a Killer" is a track from Didn't It Feel Kinder, Ray's third album as a solo artist, which will be released in August on Daemon Records, a not-for-profit record label founded by Ray back in 1990.
Tough, tight, crunchy rock'n'roll from Indigo Girl Amy Ray, who for the third time now trots out her kick-ass side on a solo record. Nothing complicated to report on, just a fast, slashing guitar attack counterbalanced by some nice chords and background harmonies in the chorus.
That said, listen to how concise a sound Ray is working with here--the song rocks hard, but there's no sloppiness, no stray sounds, no wailing or echoing guitars, no extraneous drum bashing, no casually interacting instruments; "Blame is a Killer" drives forward with the compressed vitality of a Strokes song, leading me to half expect to hear Ray's voice processed through some sort of filter or distortion. Maybe that's why the fully sung and harmonized chorus feels especially refreshing after the clipped vocal phrases utilized in the verses.
"Blame is a Killer" is a track from Didn't It Feel Kinder, Ray's third album as a solo artist, which will be released in August on Daemon Records, a not-for-profit record label founded by Ray back in 1990.
Laura Marling has a free and legal MP3 (18-year-old British singer/songwriter, with depth)
"I'm a Fly" - Laura Marling
Here's one young British import who a) doesn't sing with an affected "street" accent, b) understands the utility of two names, and c) is interested in more than regaling us with tales of her dysfunctional love life, thank goodness.
Everything about this short, precise song is warm and appealing, from its harp-like, folk-infused ukelele work through its subtly effective instrumentation and Marling's clear and compelling voice, both musically and lyrically. Listen in particular to how her backing vocals (it sounds sometimes like multi-tracked humming) are used almost as part of the rhythm section, adding a wonderful, organic sort of texture to a song that accomplishes the unusual trick of sounding traditional and post-modern at the same time.
All of 18 years old at this point, Marling released her debut album, Alas, I Cannot Swim, to much acclaim in the U.K. in February. Astralwerks will be releasing the CD in the U.S. in August. "I'm a Fly" is a newer song, not from the CD; it can be found as a b-side on an EP released in the U.K. in June. MP3 via music.download.com.
Here's one young British import who a) doesn't sing with an affected "street" accent, b) understands the utility of two names, and c) is interested in more than regaling us with tales of her dysfunctional love life, thank goodness.
Everything about this short, precise song is warm and appealing, from its harp-like, folk-infused ukelele work through its subtly effective instrumentation and Marling's clear and compelling voice, both musically and lyrically. Listen in particular to how her backing vocals (it sounds sometimes like multi-tracked humming) are used almost as part of the rhythm section, adding a wonderful, organic sort of texture to a song that accomplishes the unusual trick of sounding traditional and post-modern at the same time.
All of 18 years old at this point, Marling released her debut album, Alas, I Cannot Swim, to much acclaim in the U.K. in February. Astralwerks will be releasing the CD in the U.S. in August. "I'm a Fly" is a newer song, not from the CD; it can be found as a b-side on an EP released in the U.K. in June. MP3 via music.download.com.
Free and legal MP3 from Paper Rival (Shins-ish folk rock, w/ fiddle)
"Cassandra" - Paper Rival
The mournful fiddle melody and the crisp tom-tom beat, playing through alternating major and minor chords: what we have here is one smart and engaging introduction--and (better luck!), a song that lives up to its intro's promise.
A mysterious reimagination of the cursed prophet of doom, "Cassandra" chugs along with a bittersweet, Shins-like sort of vibrancy, its leisurely melody lines unfolding against an unobtrusive but carefully constructed percussive backdrop. The fiddle is central to the vibe, its disconsolate strain standing in for the prophet's voice, in a tone reminiscent of the gypsy violin Scarlet Rivera brought, memorably, to Bob Dylan's Desire album back in the day.
Paper Rival is a quintet from Nashville that did business as Keating until discovering that another band had the rights to the name; they chose their new name as a good-natured nose-thumbing to the gang that got to the Keating name first. "Cassandra" can be found on the band's debut full-length CD, Dialog, released in early June on Photo Finish Records. MP3 via Insound.
The mournful fiddle melody and the crisp tom-tom beat, playing through alternating major and minor chords: what we have here is one smart and engaging introduction--and (better luck!), a song that lives up to its intro's promise.
A mysterious reimagination of the cursed prophet of doom, "Cassandra" chugs along with a bittersweet, Shins-like sort of vibrancy, its leisurely melody lines unfolding against an unobtrusive but carefully constructed percussive backdrop. The fiddle is central to the vibe, its disconsolate strain standing in for the prophet's voice, in a tone reminiscent of the gypsy violin Scarlet Rivera brought, memorably, to Bob Dylan's Desire album back in the day.
Paper Rival is a quintet from Nashville that did business as Keating until discovering that another band had the rights to the name; they chose their new name as a good-natured nose-thumbing to the gang that got to the Keating name first. "Cassandra" can be found on the band's debut full-length CD, Dialog, released in early June on Photo Finish Records. MP3 via Insound.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Free, legal MP3 from Jessie Baylin (smartly put together singer/songwriter pop)
"Was I On Your Mind" - Jessie Baylin
"Was I On Your Mind" has the hallmarks of a great pop hit--hooks, craft, canny performance--and yet is unlikely to be anything of the sort here in 2008, just because who the hell knows anymore. The music market is as unhinged as the oil market. History teaches us, however, that craziness is always an aberration in the long run. There is no reason to assume that a song as crisp, well put together, and engagingly sung as this one won't again find favor with the general public, but, alas, it'll probably be too late for Ms. Baylin.
Fingertips, of course, exists in a sort of alternative universe in which what matters is the song, the spirit, the intelligence, the ineffable spark of human-to-human connection. So as far as I'm concerned this song is already a hit--an incisive example of how it's really really okay to apply polish and know-how to songwriting, at least when such things avoid cliché and are grounded in a voice, both lyrically and musically, that's feels real, solid, true. With her dusky alto and nimble delivery, the New Jersey-born, L.A.-based Baylin sounds to me, fetchingly, like Shawn Colvin doing a Sam Phillips impression; to the insistently upward, yearning melody of the chorus, she adds a textured presence that pretty much melts me. I like too how even in the context of this smartly produced number, little quirks can be found, including how the end note she hits repeatedly on the word "wrong" strikes the ear as unresolved, and how she breaks the songwriter "rule" of making the title the most repeated phrase in the song (which in this case would be "Tell Me I'm Wrong").
You'll find this one on Baylin's new CD, Firesight, released this week on Verve Forecast. Produced by Roger Moutenot (Yo La Tengo, Sleater-Kinney), this is the 24-year-old's second album; the first, You, was an iTunes-only self-release.
"Was I On Your Mind" has the hallmarks of a great pop hit--hooks, craft, canny performance--and yet is unlikely to be anything of the sort here in 2008, just because who the hell knows anymore. The music market is as unhinged as the oil market. History teaches us, however, that craziness is always an aberration in the long run. There is no reason to assume that a song as crisp, well put together, and engagingly sung as this one won't again find favor with the general public, but, alas, it'll probably be too late for Ms. Baylin.
Fingertips, of course, exists in a sort of alternative universe in which what matters is the song, the spirit, the intelligence, the ineffable spark of human-to-human connection. So as far as I'm concerned this song is already a hit--an incisive example of how it's really really okay to apply polish and know-how to songwriting, at least when such things avoid cliché and are grounded in a voice, both lyrically and musically, that's feels real, solid, true. With her dusky alto and nimble delivery, the New Jersey-born, L.A.-based Baylin sounds to me, fetchingly, like Shawn Colvin doing a Sam Phillips impression; to the insistently upward, yearning melody of the chorus, she adds a textured presence that pretty much melts me. I like too how even in the context of this smartly produced number, little quirks can be found, including how the end note she hits repeatedly on the word "wrong" strikes the ear as unresolved, and how she breaks the songwriter "rule" of making the title the most repeated phrase in the song (which in this case would be "Tell Me I'm Wrong").
You'll find this one on Baylin's new CD, Firesight, released this week on Verve Forecast. Produced by Roger Moutenot (Yo La Tengo, Sleater-Kinney), this is the 24-year-old's second album; the first, You, was an iTunes-only self-release.
Free, legal MP3 from Afternoons (orchestral, neo-hippie vibe meets solid songwriting)
"Say Yes" - Afternoons
This one carries the wacky, group-sing, neo-hippie vibe of the Polyphonic Spree but with the added benefit of really solid songwriting.
"Say Yes" unfolds with a jaunty, trumpet-led rhythm augmented by a loopy backing vocal that brings the Star Trek theme song to mind. In the indie world, lots of songs pretty much end there--quirky, big-ensemble intro, and that's all we get. To its credit, "Say Yes" develops resoundingly beyond its minute-long intro, presenting us next with a verse featuring a non-repeating melody that stretches out for more than 40 seconds, incorporating 18 measures of music. That's all but unheard of in a rock band, but then again, Afternoons are an idiosyncratic rock band at best, being a seven-piece ensemble that includes two drummers, a trumpet player, and a classically trained opera singer. Three of the seven players were in the L.A.-based band Irving, which has been put aside now that that band's side projects have apparently overshadowed the main act (another Irving offshoot is Sea Wolf).
The chorus, by the way, is nicely thought out too, and an apt counterpart to the extended verse: simply the words "say yes," architected into the bouncy trumpet refrain of the introduction. For something this big-hearted and loose-limbed, "Say Yes" is a pretty tight composition. It will eventually appear on Afternoons' debut CD, which is recorded but seems to lack, thus far, a release date. The band has been selling EPs at shows in L.A. but that's about it so far. MP3 courtesy of Irving's web site. Thanks to Filter for the tip.
This one carries the wacky, group-sing, neo-hippie vibe of the Polyphonic Spree but with the added benefit of really solid songwriting.
"Say Yes" unfolds with a jaunty, trumpet-led rhythm augmented by a loopy backing vocal that brings the Star Trek theme song to mind. In the indie world, lots of songs pretty much end there--quirky, big-ensemble intro, and that's all we get. To its credit, "Say Yes" develops resoundingly beyond its minute-long intro, presenting us next with a verse featuring a non-repeating melody that stretches out for more than 40 seconds, incorporating 18 measures of music. That's all but unheard of in a rock band, but then again, Afternoons are an idiosyncratic rock band at best, being a seven-piece ensemble that includes two drummers, a trumpet player, and a classically trained opera singer. Three of the seven players were in the L.A.-based band Irving, which has been put aside now that that band's side projects have apparently overshadowed the main act (another Irving offshoot is Sea Wolf).
The chorus, by the way, is nicely thought out too, and an apt counterpart to the extended verse: simply the words "say yes," architected into the bouncy trumpet refrain of the introduction. For something this big-hearted and loose-limbed, "Say Yes" is a pretty tight composition. It will eventually appear on Afternoons' debut CD, which is recorded but seems to lack, thus far, a release date. The band has been selling EPs at shows in L.A. but that's about it so far. MP3 courtesy of Irving's web site. Thanks to Filter for the tip.
Free, legal MP3 from William F. Gibbs (dreamy yet incisive piano ballad)
"Operate" - William F. Gibbs
He's got a name like a character actor or a middle school principal, but he's got the dreamy voice of a romantic troubadour, a guy who's seen enough to abandon his dreams but hangs onto them anyway.
A steady, unhurried piano ballad with an immediately engaging melody, "Operate" comes alive via a combination of Gibbs' singing (don't miss the phased harmonies at 1:47) and some lovely, understated guitar work. From the outset, an acoustic guitar plays in tandem with the piano, but often just at the edges of awareness; sometimes you can hear fingers moving along strings more prominently than the actual notes, which adds to an interesting sort of tension the song sustains between movement and languidness. Best of all are the dreamy slide guitar licks that get a little showcase from 1:06 through 1:32, returning in only the most whispery way through the rest of the song.
"Operate" is a track from My Fellow Sophisticates, Gibbs' debut CD, released earlier this month on Old Man Records.
He's got a name like a character actor or a middle school principal, but he's got the dreamy voice of a romantic troubadour, a guy who's seen enough to abandon his dreams but hangs onto them anyway.
A steady, unhurried piano ballad with an immediately engaging melody, "Operate" comes alive via a combination of Gibbs' singing (don't miss the phased harmonies at 1:47) and some lovely, understated guitar work. From the outset, an acoustic guitar plays in tandem with the piano, but often just at the edges of awareness; sometimes you can hear fingers moving along strings more prominently than the actual notes, which adds to an interesting sort of tension the song sustains between movement and languidness. Best of all are the dreamy slide guitar licks that get a little showcase from 1:06 through 1:32, returning in only the most whispery way through the rest of the song.
"Operate" is a track from My Fellow Sophisticates, Gibbs' debut CD, released earlier this month on Old Man Records.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Free and legal MP3 from Joe Pug (Dylanesque youngster with heady lyrics and a big heart)
"Hymn #101" - Joe Pug
Had the Bob Dylan haunting the Greenwich Village folk scene in 1961 and 1962 augmented his sociopolitical preoccupation with a wide-eyed spiritual awareness, he might have composed a spare, literate neo-folk marvel such as "Hymn #101." Carefully written and plainly presented (just guitar and voice, thank you), "Hymn #101" glows with humanity and intellect, its simple Dylanesque melody hosting any number of unexpected observations and descriptions, delivered with a voice that channels not only the great one from Hibbing but multiple generations of "next Dylans" as well, from John Prine to Steve Earle to Josh Ritter and then some.
While a potent cultural critique is layered into the song's semi-mysterious lyrics, what moves me the most here are the moments when Pug reveals a metaphysical depth not often encountered on the indie scene. The conclusion he works up to is all but breathtaking: "Will you recognize my face/When God's awful grace/Strips me of my jacket and my vest/And reveals all the treasure in my chest."
"Hymn #101" can be found on Joe Pug's debut EP, Nation of Heat, self-released in May; MP3 via his web site. And by the way, can this be his real name? Joe Pug? His biographical information is so scanty that I suspect he's intent on another Dylanesque maneuver: romantic obfuscation of his past.
Had the Bob Dylan haunting the Greenwich Village folk scene in 1961 and 1962 augmented his sociopolitical preoccupation with a wide-eyed spiritual awareness, he might have composed a spare, literate neo-folk marvel such as "Hymn #101." Carefully written and plainly presented (just guitar and voice, thank you), "Hymn #101" glows with humanity and intellect, its simple Dylanesque melody hosting any number of unexpected observations and descriptions, delivered with a voice that channels not only the great one from Hibbing but multiple generations of "next Dylans" as well, from John Prine to Steve Earle to Josh Ritter and then some.
While a potent cultural critique is layered into the song's semi-mysterious lyrics, what moves me the most here are the moments when Pug reveals a metaphysical depth not often encountered on the indie scene. The conclusion he works up to is all but breathtaking: "Will you recognize my face/When God's awful grace/Strips me of my jacket and my vest/And reveals all the treasure in my chest."
"Hymn #101" can be found on Joe Pug's debut EP, Nation of Heat, self-released in May; MP3 via his web site. And by the way, can this be his real name? Joe Pug? His biographical information is so scanty that I suspect he's intent on another Dylanesque maneuver: romantic obfuscation of his past.
Free and legal MP3 from Windsor For The Derby (brisk, soothing indie post-rock)
"Hold On" - Windsor For The Derby
"Hold On" indeed: this song begins with an extended introduction, featuring a rhythm both brisk and soothing. Listen closely and for all the apparent movement you really can't discern a whole lot of obvious activity: there's a guitar strumming without quite wanting to call too much attention to itself, there's a fuzzy organ that seems to dissipate as soon as you hear it, there's a bass that appears to be playing only one note the whole time, and all one minute and six seconds of the intro features an alternation between just two chords, separated by a simple half-step.
Then the vocals start, rather wispy and mixed down in that Yo La Tengo, resolutely-indie sort of way. But pay attention at 1:20--we finally hear a third chord. It's a great moment but it flows quickly by, and is itself easy to miss except that the song shifts and deepens at this point. Though exactly towards what end we still don't know. (Remember: hold on.) The melody leads us through a few more chords rather quickly (considering the context), the verse repeats, and then, at long last, two full minutes in, the chorus arrives, complete with--of all things--soaring, Brian Wilson-inspired backing harmonies. Nothing about this song signaled that it was going there. It's a startling juxtaposition, and well worth the long and subtle buildup.
Led by Dan Matz and Jason McNeeley, Windsor For The Derby has gone through a number of personnel changes since the group's formation in Austin in the mid-'90s. The band is now a quintet; Matz and McNeeley, recently relocated to Philadelphia, are the only the remaining original members. "Hold On" is a song from the CD How We lost, the band's eighth, released last month on Secretly Canadian records. MP3 via the Secretly Canadian web site.
"Hold On" indeed: this song begins with an extended introduction, featuring a rhythm both brisk and soothing. Listen closely and for all the apparent movement you really can't discern a whole lot of obvious activity: there's a guitar strumming without quite wanting to call too much attention to itself, there's a fuzzy organ that seems to dissipate as soon as you hear it, there's a bass that appears to be playing only one note the whole time, and all one minute and six seconds of the intro features an alternation between just two chords, separated by a simple half-step.
Then the vocals start, rather wispy and mixed down in that Yo La Tengo, resolutely-indie sort of way. But pay attention at 1:20--we finally hear a third chord. It's a great moment but it flows quickly by, and is itself easy to miss except that the song shifts and deepens at this point. Though exactly towards what end we still don't know. (Remember: hold on.) The melody leads us through a few more chords rather quickly (considering the context), the verse repeats, and then, at long last, two full minutes in, the chorus arrives, complete with--of all things--soaring, Brian Wilson-inspired backing harmonies. Nothing about this song signaled that it was going there. It's a startling juxtaposition, and well worth the long and subtle buildup.
Led by Dan Matz and Jason McNeeley, Windsor For The Derby has gone through a number of personnel changes since the group's formation in Austin in the mid-'90s. The band is now a quintet; Matz and McNeeley, recently relocated to Philadelphia, are the only the remaining original members. "Hold On" is a song from the CD How We lost, the band's eighth, released last month on Secretly Canadian records. MP3 via the Secretly Canadian web site.
Free and legal MP3 from Ndidi Onukwulu (jazzy, brass-infused blues, with a world music chaser)
"SK Final" - Ndidi Onukwulu
Happy-sounding blues, with horn charts, "SK Final" hides its musical inventiveness beneath a brassy, old-fashioned vibe. Onukwulu is a British Columbia native born to Nigerian parents, and in her songs seeks to combine blues, jazz, and African music. Check out, for instance, how the song starts: those reverberant drum beats are not directly blues-based, but evoke another continent's rhythms. When Onukwulu starts singing, she's accompanied further by an acoustic rhythm guitar, softly marking the beat as she sings off of it, while an electric guitar soon begins to supply gentle flourishes that, again, bring a world-music flair to the musical landscape.
In the end, however, "SK Final" is dominated by pretty much two things: Onukwulu's vibrant alto, with its fleeting vibrato, and those snappy horns, which kick in right before the chorus. While providing traditional horn-chart-y punctuation to the lyrics, the horns also offer a mellower sort of instrumental aside (1:07, for example; even better, 1:39) that to my ears gives them a sneaky and enticing spirit, even when finishing the song off in full rave-up mode, as Onukwulu assures us, with frisky defiance, that she's not going to cry over you again. Like I said, happy blues.
"SK Final" is the lead track on Onukwulu's second CD, The Contradictor, released this week on the Vancouver-based label Jericho Beach Music.
Happy-sounding blues, with horn charts, "SK Final" hides its musical inventiveness beneath a brassy, old-fashioned vibe. Onukwulu is a British Columbia native born to Nigerian parents, and in her songs seeks to combine blues, jazz, and African music. Check out, for instance, how the song starts: those reverberant drum beats are not directly blues-based, but evoke another continent's rhythms. When Onukwulu starts singing, she's accompanied further by an acoustic rhythm guitar, softly marking the beat as she sings off of it, while an electric guitar soon begins to supply gentle flourishes that, again, bring a world-music flair to the musical landscape.
In the end, however, "SK Final" is dominated by pretty much two things: Onukwulu's vibrant alto, with its fleeting vibrato, and those snappy horns, which kick in right before the chorus. While providing traditional horn-chart-y punctuation to the lyrics, the horns also offer a mellower sort of instrumental aside (1:07, for example; even better, 1:39) that to my ears gives them a sneaky and enticing spirit, even when finishing the song off in full rave-up mode, as Onukwulu assures us, with frisky defiance, that she's not going to cry over you again. Like I said, happy blues.
"SK Final" is the lead track on Onukwulu's second CD, The Contradictor, released this week on the Vancouver-based label Jericho Beach Music.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Fingertips Contest: Control DVD giveaway
There's a new Fingertips Contest online: the prize this time is a copy of the movie Control on DVD. Control is the acclaimed biopic of Joy Division lead singer Ian Curtis. Deadline for entry is June 18; click here for details.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
New free and legal download from the Stills (majestic and affecting rock from Canada)
"Being Here" - the Stills
There's a mystery to the majesty of good pop music. Seemingly lacking both surface-level complexity and a weighty philosophical foundation, pop music has always been dismissed by "serious" musicians and critics as insubstantial at best, culturally harmful at worst. What pop's most supercilious critics don't understand, however, is that just because pop isn't "high art" (whatever that really is) doesn't mean it can't, in the right hands (underline that part), be an artistically valid mode of creative expression. Pop music cannot be dismissed simply because it does not measure up to the standards of so-called "serious music" (whether classical or avant-garde); that would be like criticizing a cat for not being a dog.
And so can an apparently simple composition like "Being Here"--even the title communicates the ultimate in unadorned declarations--deliver something ineffably beautiful and moving in a swift three and a half minutes. You've heard these chords before, and the plain descending melody, centered around four adjacent notes. You've heard the guitars, you've heard the large, anthemic vibe. Whatever this song has can't and won't be "explained" by its constituent parts. There's something in the sound, in the presentation, and maybe in singer Tim Fletcher's big-hearted voice (a voice that brings to mind the late, lamented Stuart Adamson, of the Scottish band Big Country), that rivets the ear, that makes me, in any case, stop, listen, and feel truly--if mysteriously--affected.
"Being Here" is a song off the Stills' third album, Oceans Will Rise, which will be released on the Arts & Crafts label in August. This is the Montreal quintet's third appearance on Fingertips (check the Master Artist List for details). Thanks to Jonk Music for the lead. MP3 courtesy of the Canadian music magazine Exclaim.
There's a mystery to the majesty of good pop music. Seemingly lacking both surface-level complexity and a weighty philosophical foundation, pop music has always been dismissed by "serious" musicians and critics as insubstantial at best, culturally harmful at worst. What pop's most supercilious critics don't understand, however, is that just because pop isn't "high art" (whatever that really is) doesn't mean it can't, in the right hands (underline that part), be an artistically valid mode of creative expression. Pop music cannot be dismissed simply because it does not measure up to the standards of so-called "serious music" (whether classical or avant-garde); that would be like criticizing a cat for not being a dog.
And so can an apparently simple composition like "Being Here"--even the title communicates the ultimate in unadorned declarations--deliver something ineffably beautiful and moving in a swift three and a half minutes. You've heard these chords before, and the plain descending melody, centered around four adjacent notes. You've heard the guitars, you've heard the large, anthemic vibe. Whatever this song has can't and won't be "explained" by its constituent parts. There's something in the sound, in the presentation, and maybe in singer Tim Fletcher's big-hearted voice (a voice that brings to mind the late, lamented Stuart Adamson, of the Scottish band Big Country), that rivets the ear, that makes me, in any case, stop, listen, and feel truly--if mysteriously--affected.
"Being Here" is a song off the Stills' third album, Oceans Will Rise, which will be released on the Arts & Crafts label in August. This is the Montreal quintet's third appearance on Fingertips (check the Master Artist List for details). Thanks to Jonk Music for the lead. MP3 courtesy of the Canadian music magazine Exclaim.
The Last Town Chorus MP3 (idiosyncratic, dreamy lap steel pop)
"Loud and Clear" - the Last Town Chorus
And this, oddly enough, is the second song called "Loud and Clear" now featured on Fingertips (the first being this one, from the duo Pink and Noseworthy), for those keeping score at home. This "Loud and Clear" is particularly well-named, because Megan Hickey, who plays lap steel guitar and sings, has a sweet, clear-toned voice and a round, indelible sound, as she plays her instrument using effect pedals not typically employed, creating both dreamy textures and memorable lead lines in the process. This is not your Grand Ole Opry lap steel. Hickey has an instinctive feel for just how much to glide and bend her notes, avoiding country cliches while invigorating the song with inventive shapes and sounds.
Although originally a duo, the Last Town Chorus has since 2004 been the Brooklyn-based Hickey playing with a changing ensemble of musicians. "Loud and Clear" is a single from an as-yet untitled CD, to be released at some as-yet unspecified date by Hacktone Records. (Warning: the Hacktone web site is a Flash-based nightmare; enter at your own risk. You're far better off checking out Hickey's "travelogue," a regularly updated blog featuring pictures and thoughts from her life on the road, posted via cell phone.) MP3 via Hacktone.
And this, oddly enough, is the second song called "Loud and Clear" now featured on Fingertips (the first being this one, from the duo Pink and Noseworthy), for those keeping score at home. This "Loud and Clear" is particularly well-named, because Megan Hickey, who plays lap steel guitar and sings, has a sweet, clear-toned voice and a round, indelible sound, as she plays her instrument using effect pedals not typically employed, creating both dreamy textures and memorable lead lines in the process. This is not your Grand Ole Opry lap steel. Hickey has an instinctive feel for just how much to glide and bend her notes, avoiding country cliches while invigorating the song with inventive shapes and sounds.
Although originally a duo, the Last Town Chorus has since 2004 been the Brooklyn-based Hickey playing with a changing ensemble of musicians. "Loud and Clear" is a single from an as-yet untitled CD, to be released at some as-yet unspecified date by Hacktone Records. (Warning: the Hacktone web site is a Flash-based nightmare; enter at your own risk. You're far better off checking out Hickey's "travelogue," a regularly updated blog featuring pictures and thoughts from her life on the road, posted via cell phone.) MP3 via Hacktone.
New MP3 from the Wedding Present (great guitars, via Albini and veteran Brit band)
"I Lost the Monkey" - the Wedding Present
From its gentle, even poignant opening, "I Lost the Monkey" blossoms into a loud-but-controlled midtempo construction of prepossessing precision, with consistently impressive guitar work and a brilliant chorus.
Just listen to those guitars--whether it's the semi-dissonance of the second "intro" (the extended instrumental after the quiet opening verse, starting at 0:34) or the melodicism that emerges in the middle of the chorus, and then more prominently in the second verse (starting around 1:57), the guitars are used here with unusual care and sensitivity. This is not just a couple of guys strumming to fill in empty space. And then there's that terrific chorus, which is rendered all the more affecting by lead man David Gedge's restrained, almost whispered vocals, which make no effort to rise above the guitars, but somehow create a quiet clearing in the middle of the noise in which they can nonetheless be heard.
A veteran band from Leeds, the Wedding Present has been through a number of lineup changes since its formation back in 1985; by now, the only constant through the years has been Gedge, now 48. (Note that in 1992, the Wedding Present released a new single on the first Monday of every month--a very internet music scene-like thing to do, well before the birth of the internet music scene.) For their new album, El Rey, the band has brought studio whiz Steve Albini back to the controls (Albini previously engineered CDs for the band in 1989 and 1991; he does not want to be called a producer, by the way). I've no idea what the rest of the album sounds like, but this one soars.
From its gentle, even poignant opening, "I Lost the Monkey" blossoms into a loud-but-controlled midtempo construction of prepossessing precision, with consistently impressive guitar work and a brilliant chorus.
Just listen to those guitars--whether it's the semi-dissonance of the second "intro" (the extended instrumental after the quiet opening verse, starting at 0:34) or the melodicism that emerges in the middle of the chorus, and then more prominently in the second verse (starting around 1:57), the guitars are used here with unusual care and sensitivity. This is not just a couple of guys strumming to fill in empty space. And then there's that terrific chorus, which is rendered all the more affecting by lead man David Gedge's restrained, almost whispered vocals, which make no effort to rise above the guitars, but somehow create a quiet clearing in the middle of the noise in which they can nonetheless be heard.
A veteran band from Leeds, the Wedding Present has been through a number of lineup changes since its formation back in 1985; by now, the only constant through the years has been Gedge, now 48. (Note that in 1992, the Wedding Present released a new single on the first Monday of every month--a very internet music scene-like thing to do, well before the birth of the internet music scene.) For their new album, El Rey, the band has brought studio whiz Steve Albini back to the controls (Albini previously engineered CDs for the band in 1989 and 1991; he does not want to be called a producer, by the way). I've no idea what the rest of the album sounds like, but this one soars.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Update to the Fingertips Top 10
Time for an update about the Fingertips Top 10, which has changed significantly since the last Top 10 post in April. Here's what the list looks like as of June 4; newcomers since April are marked with an asterisk:
1. "Cat Swallow" - the Royal Bangs
2. "Right Away" - Pattern is Movement*
3. "Animé Eyes" - the Awkward Stage*
4. "Torn Blue Foam Couch" - the Grand Archives
5. "To Be Gone" - Anna Ternheim
6. "Yer Motion" - Reeve Oliver*
7. "Boarded Doors" - the Morning Benders*
8. "Big Sound" - the M's
9. "Black Lungs" - the New Frontiers*
10. "Fire" - Alibi Tom*
"Cat Swallow" is not new to the list but is new to the number-one slot, replacing "Beyond the Door" by 13ghosts, which held the spot for the previous two months. The Top 10 list is my way of putting a little bit of extra attention on ten particularly wonderful songs at any given time, but remember that Fingertips only features carefully filtered music to begin with, so you can't go wrong with any of the MP3s featured here. Songs remain in the Top 10 for a maximum of three months, before they are retired to the Retired Top 10 Songs page, logically enough. (Note that the music player on the blog cannot find the Alibi Tom MP3 because of a technological quirk, but the song still can be downloaded if you click on it.)
1. "Cat Swallow" - the Royal Bangs
2. "Right Away" - Pattern is Movement*
3. "Animé Eyes" - the Awkward Stage*
4. "Torn Blue Foam Couch" - the Grand Archives
5. "To Be Gone" - Anna Ternheim
6. "Yer Motion" - Reeve Oliver*
7. "Boarded Doors" - the Morning Benders*
8. "Big Sound" - the M's
9. "Black Lungs" - the New Frontiers*
10. "Fire" - Alibi Tom*
"Cat Swallow" is not new to the list but is new to the number-one slot, replacing "Beyond the Door" by 13ghosts, which held the spot for the previous two months. The Top 10 list is my way of putting a little bit of extra attention on ten particularly wonderful songs at any given time, but remember that Fingertips only features carefully filtered music to begin with, so you can't go wrong with any of the MP3s featured here. Songs remain in the Top 10 for a maximum of three months, before they are retired to the Retired Top 10 Songs page, logically enough. (Note that the music player on the blog cannot find the Alibi Tom MP3 because of a technological quirk, but the song still can be downloaded if you click on it.)
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
MP3s from the Last Shadow Puppets, the New Frontiers, and the Morning Benders--free and legal, from Fingertips
"My Mistakes Were Made For You" - the Last Shadow Puppets
If the Decemberists were to write a James Bond theme song, they might come up with something like "My Mistakes Were Made For You." Echoingly atmospheric, with melodramatic strings, an ominous surf guitar, and melancholy horn charts, "My Mistakes Were Made For You" has at the same time a pleasantly wordy feel, which strikes me as an unexpected twist for a song with this sort of spy-movie vibe. (Songs from James Bond movies are, rather, renowned for the relentless fatuousness of their lyrics.)
Another amiable difference here is Alex Turner's simmering vocal delivery; more well known as the front man of the Arctic Monkeys, Turner here turns from the more frenetic, ejective singing style he uses with his "other" band to a softer, almost soulful sort of approach. Turner does not lose his accent (apparently a Sheffield accent) while singing; while American me is accustomed to hearing an accent like this in a hard-rocking setting (a cliche perhaps but that's mostly what we hear of it here), I can't say I've been treated to it in quite this context before. I find it rather charming.
The Last Shadow Puppets is a collaboration between Turner and his friend Miles Kane, who's also in a band called the Rascals. "My Mistakes Were Made For You" is from the duo's debut release, The Age of the Understatement, which came out last month on Domino Records.
"Black Lungs" - the New Frontiers
Here's a prime example of an oft-repeated Fingertips theme: music does not have to be new to be great. A band need not blaze trails to be worthy. I think we'd have more consistently good music being played out there, in fact, if bands weren't so often trying too hard to be different.
A quintet from Dallas, the New Frontiers do not try to be different; they try to be good. With "Black Lungs," they succeed, for reasons that are a bit difficult to pinpoint, since this appealing, well-crafted song seems to be trying not to stand out; it sounds like something we've all loved for a long time and kind of take for granted by now. But let's see: that crying, arcing guitar line that launches the song is one terrific thing; singer Nathan Pettijohn is another, with his tender-rugged voice and his refusal to leap into falsetto, even when the song threatens to go there; and then there's the chorus, which delivers a great back-door hook--which happens right around the words "back door," in fact. The hook delights me, because it sounds like we'd already heard the hook (the leap up at 0:56, around the words "everything's fine"), and then, in the second part of the chorus ("don't you kick me out the back door"), the melody slyly returns to the eighth-note pattern used in the first part of the verse and that just nails everything together. There's something old-timey and classic at work here. Close your eyes and breathe it in.
The New Frontiers were previously known as Stellamaris, and recorded one CD in 2005 under that name. "Black Lungs" is the opening track on Mending, their first CD as the New Frontiers, which was released in April on the Militia Group.
"Boarded Doors" - the Morning Benders
The Morning Benders return with their elusively familiar brand of sturdy yet off-kilter pop. "Boarded Doors" shuffles between a cartoony menace (that prickly guitar, that schemingly descending melody line) and a yearny sort of wistfulness, to great effect. Chris Chu sings so casually he may as well be talking, but the more I listen, the more impressed I am with his tone and tunefulness. The entire band tends to sneak up on me like that--they sound like they're just sort of rehearsing, but underneath the informal surface lies a tight little song and a lot of expertise.
I'm fascinated by the concise, unresolved chorus, which gives us a quick shot of something that sounds like a backward guitar and perfectly placed "oo-oo" backing vocals and then vanishes before one quite realizes hey, that was the chorus. If, in fact, a song could have a verse and a bridge and no chorus (which I think is impossible by definition) then the Morning Benders have managed to write it.
An amiable quartet from Berkeley, California (they claim to have met while all working on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride at Disneyland), the Morning Benders released their first full-length CD last month, called Talking Through Tin Cans, on +1 Records. MP3 courtesy of Spinner.
If the Decemberists were to write a James Bond theme song, they might come up with something like "My Mistakes Were Made For You." Echoingly atmospheric, with melodramatic strings, an ominous surf guitar, and melancholy horn charts, "My Mistakes Were Made For You" has at the same time a pleasantly wordy feel, which strikes me as an unexpected twist for a song with this sort of spy-movie vibe. (Songs from James Bond movies are, rather, renowned for the relentless fatuousness of their lyrics.)
Another amiable difference here is Alex Turner's simmering vocal delivery; more well known as the front man of the Arctic Monkeys, Turner here turns from the more frenetic, ejective singing style he uses with his "other" band to a softer, almost soulful sort of approach. Turner does not lose his accent (apparently a Sheffield accent) while singing; while American me is accustomed to hearing an accent like this in a hard-rocking setting (a cliche perhaps but that's mostly what we hear of it here), I can't say I've been treated to it in quite this context before. I find it rather charming.
The Last Shadow Puppets is a collaboration between Turner and his friend Miles Kane, who's also in a band called the Rascals. "My Mistakes Were Made For You" is from the duo's debut release, The Age of the Understatement, which came out last month on Domino Records.
"Black Lungs" - the New Frontiers
Here's a prime example of an oft-repeated Fingertips theme: music does not have to be new to be great. A band need not blaze trails to be worthy. I think we'd have more consistently good music being played out there, in fact, if bands weren't so often trying too hard to be different.
A quintet from Dallas, the New Frontiers do not try to be different; they try to be good. With "Black Lungs," they succeed, for reasons that are a bit difficult to pinpoint, since this appealing, well-crafted song seems to be trying not to stand out; it sounds like something we've all loved for a long time and kind of take for granted by now. But let's see: that crying, arcing guitar line that launches the song is one terrific thing; singer Nathan Pettijohn is another, with his tender-rugged voice and his refusal to leap into falsetto, even when the song threatens to go there; and then there's the chorus, which delivers a great back-door hook--which happens right around the words "back door," in fact. The hook delights me, because it sounds like we'd already heard the hook (the leap up at 0:56, around the words "everything's fine"), and then, in the second part of the chorus ("don't you kick me out the back door"), the melody slyly returns to the eighth-note pattern used in the first part of the verse and that just nails everything together. There's something old-timey and classic at work here. Close your eyes and breathe it in.
The New Frontiers were previously known as Stellamaris, and recorded one CD in 2005 under that name. "Black Lungs" is the opening track on Mending, their first CD as the New Frontiers, which was released in April on the Militia Group.
"Boarded Doors" - the Morning Benders
The Morning Benders return with their elusively familiar brand of sturdy yet off-kilter pop. "Boarded Doors" shuffles between a cartoony menace (that prickly guitar, that schemingly descending melody line) and a yearny sort of wistfulness, to great effect. Chris Chu sings so casually he may as well be talking, but the more I listen, the more impressed I am with his tone and tunefulness. The entire band tends to sneak up on me like that--they sound like they're just sort of rehearsing, but underneath the informal surface lies a tight little song and a lot of expertise.
I'm fascinated by the concise, unresolved chorus, which gives us a quick shot of something that sounds like a backward guitar and perfectly placed "oo-oo" backing vocals and then vanishes before one quite realizes hey, that was the chorus. If, in fact, a song could have a verse and a bridge and no chorus (which I think is impossible by definition) then the Morning Benders have managed to write it.
An amiable quartet from Berkeley, California (they claim to have met while all working on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride at Disneyland), the Morning Benders released their first full-length CD last month, called Talking Through Tin Cans, on +1 Records. MP3 courtesy of Spinner.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Free and legal MP3s from the Catalysts, Soltero, and Langhorne Slim, via Fingertips
"Goes On Forever" - the Catalysts
Anchored by a shimmering guitar-and-harmonica sound that will take you back to the '60s even if you were never actually there, "Goes On Forever" is one part pure breeze, one part bittersweet homage to times gone by. The relentless good nature of the solid backbeat and genial melody is counteracted by enough suspended chords in the chorus to give you the impression of clouds passing in front of the sun. The words tumble out in a sort of Dylanesque swirl; some of the ones that I can catch do in fact, either coincidentally or not, appear to refer to music from the '60s and '70s ("I'm a Believer," "It's a Beautiful Day," and the way the title phrase comes right after the word "dream," which calls the old Todd Rundgren song to mind).
The Catalysts is a band name, but there's really no band at this point--just a guy named Ulric Kennedy, from Glasgow, with a history in a number of independent bands dating back to the late '80s. Kennedy is a bass player by trade, and he lays down a particularly interesting bass line here--listen closely and you'll hear how he plays bass more like a lead instrument than a bit player in the rhythm section: not only is the bass given the melodic lick that drives the entire song, but Kennedy also plays sustained notes that frequently drop the bass out of the rhythm altogether. It's not the kind of thing your ear is supposed to notice consciously, but it does add subtle sonic interest to the song as it develops. And don't miss the fake fade-out--not subtle at all, but mysteriously alluring nonetheless.
Kennedy is getting the Cloudberry Records treatment for this new Catalysts release: a three-inch CD-R three-song single, released in a hand-numbered batch of 100; "Goes On Forever" is one of the two "b-side" songs on the "Autumn Everywhere" single, due out next month. MP3 courtesy of Cloudberry.
"Out at the Wall" - Soltero
This song has an unexpectedly spacious presence for something so relatively quiet and contemplative, thanks in part to the in-the-distance production effects, which include a hammering, machine-like noise, an electronic surf sound, the whistle of a ghost train, and echoey, drop-like percussion accents, with some mysterious tinkly sounds thrown in for good measure. And it's not just the sounds themselves that create the space, it's the fact that these sounds are dropped behind the tidy pulse of an acoustic guitar. Note too how the reverb that Tim Howard uses on his voice feels somehow crisper than the often muddy wash of reverb we tend to hear in indie-land in this day and age; while muddy reverb veers sonically towards both the claustrophobic and the impersonal, what Howard does here feels open and vulnerable.
Quiet, contemplative songs also don't tend to move along in this brisk and shuffly sort of way, which is another juxtaposition that enriches the vibe. Then we get that part of the song in which Howard unleashes his upper register, at which point the guitar pretty much drops out and it's all the echoey ghostly carryings-on in the background. Cool stuff.
And the theme this week so far, unintentionally, is bands that aren't bands, since Soltero this time around is pretty much a solo effort for Tim Howard (over the years, Soltero has sometimes been a band and sometimes not; Howard's previous appearance on Fingertips back in '04 was also a solo affair). "Out at the Wall" is a song from the new Soltero CD, You're No Dream, being released this week on the Pennsylvania-based label La Société Expéditionnaire. MP3 via the label's site.
"Rebel Side of Heaven" - Langhorne Slim
I have a soft spot for songs that start off the tonic chord--that is, songs that open on a chord that feels obviously not the song's home base. I'm never sure how we even know this so quickly but we do. Listen to the first three or four seconds of "Rebel Side of Heaven" and you'll hear it yourself, and then enjoy the way the song slides itself into the tonic, then--oops--out again, before settling in at 0:12, just before the singing starts.
And what singing! Langhorne Slim (nee Sean Scolnick, who grew up in Langhorne, Pennsylvania) has a high-pitched warble that manages still to be warm and approachable, kind of like if Jeff Tweedy were singing with Neil Young's voice. With its good-natured swagger and great horn charts, the song is a rollicking good time, but unlike the vast majority of rollicking-good-time rock songs, it's neither uncomfortably dumb nor way too long. The lyrics, in fact, are not only idiosyncratic and engaging, but feature at their heart what strikes me as a novel idea ("And though we have sinned all of our lives/We ain't going to hell/Well we're going to the rebel side of heaven." Whether he got it from something he read or made it up himself, it beats the pants off the lyrics to most good-timey songs in the rock canon.
"Rebel Side of Heaven" is from the debut, self-titled Langhorne Slim full-length, released last month on Kemado Records. MP3 via Kemado.
* * *
(Due to the Memorial Day Weekend holiday in the U.S., there will be no MP3 selections next week.)
Anchored by a shimmering guitar-and-harmonica sound that will take you back to the '60s even if you were never actually there, "Goes On Forever" is one part pure breeze, one part bittersweet homage to times gone by. The relentless good nature of the solid backbeat and genial melody is counteracted by enough suspended chords in the chorus to give you the impression of clouds passing in front of the sun. The words tumble out in a sort of Dylanesque swirl; some of the ones that I can catch do in fact, either coincidentally or not, appear to refer to music from the '60s and '70s ("I'm a Believer," "It's a Beautiful Day," and the way the title phrase comes right after the word "dream," which calls the old Todd Rundgren song to mind).
The Catalysts is a band name, but there's really no band at this point--just a guy named Ulric Kennedy, from Glasgow, with a history in a number of independent bands dating back to the late '80s. Kennedy is a bass player by trade, and he lays down a particularly interesting bass line here--listen closely and you'll hear how he plays bass more like a lead instrument than a bit player in the rhythm section: not only is the bass given the melodic lick that drives the entire song, but Kennedy also plays sustained notes that frequently drop the bass out of the rhythm altogether. It's not the kind of thing your ear is supposed to notice consciously, but it does add subtle sonic interest to the song as it develops. And don't miss the fake fade-out--not subtle at all, but mysteriously alluring nonetheless.
Kennedy is getting the Cloudberry Records treatment for this new Catalysts release: a three-inch CD-R three-song single, released in a hand-numbered batch of 100; "Goes On Forever" is one of the two "b-side" songs on the "Autumn Everywhere" single, due out next month. MP3 courtesy of Cloudberry.
"Out at the Wall" - Soltero
This song has an unexpectedly spacious presence for something so relatively quiet and contemplative, thanks in part to the in-the-distance production effects, which include a hammering, machine-like noise, an electronic surf sound, the whistle of a ghost train, and echoey, drop-like percussion accents, with some mysterious tinkly sounds thrown in for good measure. And it's not just the sounds themselves that create the space, it's the fact that these sounds are dropped behind the tidy pulse of an acoustic guitar. Note too how the reverb that Tim Howard uses on his voice feels somehow crisper than the often muddy wash of reverb we tend to hear in indie-land in this day and age; while muddy reverb veers sonically towards both the claustrophobic and the impersonal, what Howard does here feels open and vulnerable.
Quiet, contemplative songs also don't tend to move along in this brisk and shuffly sort of way, which is another juxtaposition that enriches the vibe. Then we get that part of the song in which Howard unleashes his upper register, at which point the guitar pretty much drops out and it's all the echoey ghostly carryings-on in the background. Cool stuff.
And the theme this week so far, unintentionally, is bands that aren't bands, since Soltero this time around is pretty much a solo effort for Tim Howard (over the years, Soltero has sometimes been a band and sometimes not; Howard's previous appearance on Fingertips back in '04 was also a solo affair). "Out at the Wall" is a song from the new Soltero CD, You're No Dream, being released this week on the Pennsylvania-based label La Société Expéditionnaire. MP3 via the label's site.
"Rebel Side of Heaven" - Langhorne Slim
I have a soft spot for songs that start off the tonic chord--that is, songs that open on a chord that feels obviously not the song's home base. I'm never sure how we even know this so quickly but we do. Listen to the first three or four seconds of "Rebel Side of Heaven" and you'll hear it yourself, and then enjoy the way the song slides itself into the tonic, then--oops--out again, before settling in at 0:12, just before the singing starts.
And what singing! Langhorne Slim (nee Sean Scolnick, who grew up in Langhorne, Pennsylvania) has a high-pitched warble that manages still to be warm and approachable, kind of like if Jeff Tweedy were singing with Neil Young's voice. With its good-natured swagger and great horn charts, the song is a rollicking good time, but unlike the vast majority of rollicking-good-time rock songs, it's neither uncomfortably dumb nor way too long. The lyrics, in fact, are not only idiosyncratic and engaging, but feature at their heart what strikes me as a novel idea ("And though we have sinned all of our lives/We ain't going to hell/Well we're going to the rebel side of heaven." Whether he got it from something he read or made it up himself, it beats the pants off the lyrics to most good-timey songs in the rock canon.
"Rebel Side of Heaven" is from the debut, self-titled Langhorne Slim full-length, released last month on Kemado Records. MP3 via Kemado.
* * *
(Due to the Memorial Day Weekend holiday in the U.S., there will be no MP3 selections next week.)
Monday, May 12, 2008
This week's Fingertips MP3s: free and legal downloads from Stereolab, Tokyo Police Club, and Oh Darling
"Three Women" - Stereolab
The semi-legendary, relentlessly inscrutable Stereolab--with their sexy vocalist, arcane musical references, and Marxist leanings--may never hit the big time, but they sure know how to entertain the left of center. Perhaps the first band to be called "post-rock," back in the early '90s, this British-based outfit were spinning out intellectually giddy genre-mashups when today's laptop-rockers were in preschool. As I'm not a long-time or super-knowledgeable fan, I always find myself surprised by how sunny and accessible a lot of Stereolab's music sounds at the simple level of listening--never-minding the underpinnings of influence and philosophy. You really don't have to know what they're doing--intermingling krautrock, lounge music, funk, jazz, '60s pop, and contemporary classical minimalism, among other things, leaning on vintage electronic instruments in the process--to like what you're hearing.
On Fingertips, we last visited with vocalist Lætitia Sadier not too long ago, as her side project Monarde was featured in February; here, she sounds just as sultry-sophisticated (she sings in French again, as she often does), but a bit more light-hearted, as the music this time bubbles along with great pep and texture. Launched off a classic R&B groove, "Three Women" features a sneaky, meandering melody and a bright instrumental coalescence--I'm hearing Farfisa organ, marimba (or, perhaps, vibes?), trumpets, maybe even a celesta--that effortlessly evokes some other time and place without it being quite clear what time or place that might actually be. Sadier purrs, the music rolls along, and if we really have no idea what she's saying or why, well, this is Stereolab. Absorb the vibe, observe the craft, and enjoy the download.
"Three Women" can be found the band's forthcoming CD Chemical Chords, not due out till August, on Duophonic UHF Disks/4AD. MP3 courtesy of Beggars Group.
"In a Cave" - Tokyo Police Club
Buzzy, driven, incisive indie pop from a Toronto quartet with a knowledgeable vibe and the added attraction of having a singing bass player (discussed when last we met these guys). This songs strikes me as very smartly constructed--elements added at just the right time, pieces interacting with a casual sort of precision. Example of element added at just the right time: those unexpected, shouting background vocals that chime in at 0:49; example of casually precise interaction: the almost feedbacky guitar line that enters at 0:40 and, first, mimicks the melody line as it's sung but then continues even as the melody moves on (right into the shouting vocal part in fact).
And what are they singing about? The cave is metaphorical, to be sure, and there's that nice touch about reversing the effects of being in the cave once deciding to leave ("All my hair grows in/Wrinkles leave my skin"), which is skillful way of extending the metaphor; beyond that we get a skittery atmosphere, both musically and lyrically, and we're left to figure out exactly what's going on on our own.
As per last week's comment about web writers who disparage music when it's not "new" enough, TPC is likely to catch some flak in this regard--and already have, in fact: "Tokyo Police Club aren't smashing templates or changing lives," proclaims Stereogum, "but this stuff is catchy [as hell], easily digestible fun." Here's a clue for you to take around the web: anyone who does that "damning with faint praise" routine is revealing more about their own insecurities than about the subject at hand. Either like something, don't like it, or, even, partially like it--just do so clearly; ground it in observable fact. Is that so hard? "Easily digestible fun" means "this isn't really 'cool' enough for me to like but I like it anyway." Humbug. "In a Cave" is from TPC's debut CD, Elephant Shell (the phrase comes from this song; listen carefully), and is another sign that these guys mean business. It was released last month on Saddle Creek Records.
"Shoulda Never" - Oh Darling
This one clicks for me in the chorus, at the end of the second line, when the melody steps slightly down, into that unresolved place, and just stays there (around 1:11). Goes to show yet again that you never know where a hook is coming from, or why. And this sort of thing doesn't happen in a vacuum--the whole reason that unresolved detour sounds so apt is because of everything that's come before it. For a relatively new band, these guys have recorded something that glows with preternatural charm and know-how.
Right away note the juxtaposition of that staccato bass-and-guitar intro, a reliable implement in the rock toolbox at least since the Cars came along, and lead singer Jasmine Ash's pure, almost child-like tone--an intriguing blend that pulls us into "Shoulda Never," establishing the song's subtle push/pull of soft and hard, naive and experienced, female and male (the quartet features two men and two women, and includes a mixed-gender rhythm section--male drummer, female bass). Familiar-sounding in appealing ways, the song also offers its share of subtle surprises, one of my favorites being the whistly, almost flute-like synthesizer that creates a kind of lost-world ambiance, first heard in the instrumental break at 1:24.
Formed in 2006, Oh Darling self-released an EP at the end of last year. The band's full-length debut is expected out this summer, on Nice Records. "Shoulda Never" can be found on both discs. MP3 courtesy of the band's wonderful-looking web site.
The semi-legendary, relentlessly inscrutable Stereolab--with their sexy vocalist, arcane musical references, and Marxist leanings--may never hit the big time, but they sure know how to entertain the left of center. Perhaps the first band to be called "post-rock," back in the early '90s, this British-based outfit were spinning out intellectually giddy genre-mashups when today's laptop-rockers were in preschool. As I'm not a long-time or super-knowledgeable fan, I always find myself surprised by how sunny and accessible a lot of Stereolab's music sounds at the simple level of listening--never-minding the underpinnings of influence and philosophy. You really don't have to know what they're doing--intermingling krautrock, lounge music, funk, jazz, '60s pop, and contemporary classical minimalism, among other things, leaning on vintage electronic instruments in the process--to like what you're hearing.
On Fingertips, we last visited with vocalist Lætitia Sadier not too long ago, as her side project Monarde was featured in February; here, she sounds just as sultry-sophisticated (she sings in French again, as she often does), but a bit more light-hearted, as the music this time bubbles along with great pep and texture. Launched off a classic R&B groove, "Three Women" features a sneaky, meandering melody and a bright instrumental coalescence--I'm hearing Farfisa organ, marimba (or, perhaps, vibes?), trumpets, maybe even a celesta--that effortlessly evokes some other time and place without it being quite clear what time or place that might actually be. Sadier purrs, the music rolls along, and if we really have no idea what she's saying or why, well, this is Stereolab. Absorb the vibe, observe the craft, and enjoy the download.
"Three Women" can be found the band's forthcoming CD Chemical Chords, not due out till August, on Duophonic UHF Disks/4AD. MP3 courtesy of Beggars Group.
"In a Cave" - Tokyo Police Club
Buzzy, driven, incisive indie pop from a Toronto quartet with a knowledgeable vibe and the added attraction of having a singing bass player (discussed when last we met these guys). This songs strikes me as very smartly constructed--elements added at just the right time, pieces interacting with a casual sort of precision. Example of element added at just the right time: those unexpected, shouting background vocals that chime in at 0:49; example of casually precise interaction: the almost feedbacky guitar line that enters at 0:40 and, first, mimicks the melody line as it's sung but then continues even as the melody moves on (right into the shouting vocal part in fact).
And what are they singing about? The cave is metaphorical, to be sure, and there's that nice touch about reversing the effects of being in the cave once deciding to leave ("All my hair grows in/Wrinkles leave my skin"), which is skillful way of extending the metaphor; beyond that we get a skittery atmosphere, both musically and lyrically, and we're left to figure out exactly what's going on on our own.
As per last week's comment about web writers who disparage music when it's not "new" enough, TPC is likely to catch some flak in this regard--and already have, in fact: "Tokyo Police Club aren't smashing templates or changing lives," proclaims Stereogum, "but this stuff is catchy [as hell], easily digestible fun." Here's a clue for you to take around the web: anyone who does that "damning with faint praise" routine is revealing more about their own insecurities than about the subject at hand. Either like something, don't like it, or, even, partially like it--just do so clearly; ground it in observable fact. Is that so hard? "Easily digestible fun" means "this isn't really 'cool' enough for me to like but I like it anyway." Humbug. "In a Cave" is from TPC's debut CD, Elephant Shell (the phrase comes from this song; listen carefully), and is another sign that these guys mean business. It was released last month on Saddle Creek Records.
"Shoulda Never" - Oh Darling
This one clicks for me in the chorus, at the end of the second line, when the melody steps slightly down, into that unresolved place, and just stays there (around 1:11). Goes to show yet again that you never know where a hook is coming from, or why. And this sort of thing doesn't happen in a vacuum--the whole reason that unresolved detour sounds so apt is because of everything that's come before it. For a relatively new band, these guys have recorded something that glows with preternatural charm and know-how.
Right away note the juxtaposition of that staccato bass-and-guitar intro, a reliable implement in the rock toolbox at least since the Cars came along, and lead singer Jasmine Ash's pure, almost child-like tone--an intriguing blend that pulls us into "Shoulda Never," establishing the song's subtle push/pull of soft and hard, naive and experienced, female and male (the quartet features two men and two women, and includes a mixed-gender rhythm section--male drummer, female bass). Familiar-sounding in appealing ways, the song also offers its share of subtle surprises, one of my favorites being the whistly, almost flute-like synthesizer that creates a kind of lost-world ambiance, first heard in the instrumental break at 1:24.
Formed in 2006, Oh Darling self-released an EP at the end of last year. The band's full-length debut is expected out this summer, on Nice Records. "Shoulda Never" can be found on both discs. MP3 courtesy of the band's wonderful-looking web site.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Fingertips CD Review: Fireproof, by Dawn Landes
Fireproof
Dawn Landes
Cooking Vinyl Records
Fireproof is an unassuming, sneaky sort of record, performed with such casual, comfortable intimacy that it seems as much like an overheard impromptu house concert as much as a studio recording. And Landes herself is an unassuming, sneaky sort of singer, in the unadorned, plainspoken tradition of Suzanne Vega, but with a subtle quirkiness that brings Jane Siberry, occasionally, to mind. Her music, while not overtly odd in any way, eludes precise description, probably because of the offbeat but uncluttered mix of instruments she's engaged here, which include a banjo, harmonica, pedal steel, organ, optigan (this being a strange, organ-like instrument made by Mattel in the '70s), bells, and toy piano.
Most of the songs take a while to sink in, both musically and lyrically. Some saunter by with an Americana-ish, by-the-campfire aura ("Tired of This Life," "Twilight," "Dig Me a Hole"), while others exploit Landes' eccentric musical landscape in divergent ways: the Waits-ian carnivalia of "Picture Show", the tinkly tranciness of "Goodnight Lover," the stripped-down urgency of "Private Little Hell," the languid, semi-surreal banjo-funk (?) of the mysteriously alluring "Bodyguard." She sings often of dreaming and darkness and nighttime, and her lyrics make discomfiting leaps in both thought and image. Listen to how she uses her quirky chamber group to great effect on her affecting cover of the traditional (and yet, strange) song "I Don't Need No Man," with some of the percussion playing, it would seem, across the room, while burbling synth sounds frolic with the fast-strumming hoedown of guitars and mandolin. Another highlight: "I'm in Love With the Night," all lonesome-prairie torchiness and fugitive heartache. [buy via the Fingertips Store]
(See more Fingertips CD reviews on the Album Bin page of the main Fingertips site.)
Dawn Landes
Cooking Vinyl Records
Fireproof is an unassuming, sneaky sort of record, performed with such casual, comfortable intimacy that it seems as much like an overheard impromptu house concert as much as a studio recording. And Landes herself is an unassuming, sneaky sort of singer, in the unadorned, plainspoken tradition of Suzanne Vega, but with a subtle quirkiness that brings Jane Siberry, occasionally, to mind. Her music, while not overtly odd in any way, eludes precise description, probably because of the offbeat but uncluttered mix of instruments she's engaged here, which include a banjo, harmonica, pedal steel, organ, optigan (this being a strange, organ-like instrument made by Mattel in the '70s), bells, and toy piano.
Most of the songs take a while to sink in, both musically and lyrically. Some saunter by with an Americana-ish, by-the-campfire aura ("Tired of This Life," "Twilight," "Dig Me a Hole"), while others exploit Landes' eccentric musical landscape in divergent ways: the Waits-ian carnivalia of "Picture Show", the tinkly tranciness of "Goodnight Lover," the stripped-down urgency of "Private Little Hell," the languid, semi-surreal banjo-funk (?) of the mysteriously alluring "Bodyguard." She sings often of dreaming and darkness and nighttime, and her lyrics make discomfiting leaps in both thought and image. Listen to how she uses her quirky chamber group to great effect on her affecting cover of the traditional (and yet, strange) song "I Don't Need No Man," with some of the percussion playing, it would seem, across the room, while burbling synth sounds frolic with the fast-strumming hoedown of guitars and mandolin. Another highlight: "I'm in Love With the Night," all lonesome-prairie torchiness and fugitive heartache. [buy via the Fingertips Store]
(See more Fingertips CD reviews on the Album Bin page of the main Fingertips site.)
Monday, May 05, 2008
Free and legal MP3s from Fingertips: The Awkward Stage, Trevor Exter, Reeve Oliver
"Animé Eyes" - The Awkward Stage
This one has the driving grandeur of mid-'70s Roxy Music, but with the arty quirkiness replaced by power-poppiness: "Animé Eyes" positively rings with clarity and catchiness. And yet there's more going on here than might be immediately apparent. Inspired, I imagine, by the subject matter, the verses are based on a pentatonic scale, the five-tone scale historically associated with Asian music. The pentatonic scale has an inherent sing-songy nature (at least, to my Western ears), which serves the goal of a pop song nicely, even as it also lends a slightly exotic je ne sais quoi to the musical setting (especially since the pentatonic underpinning here is subtle; no jokey musical cliches--think "Turning Japanese"--for these guys).
In the chorus, the music shifts subtly but firmly back to a Western orientation, even as there are now some Japanese words being sung--another sure-footed but subtle touch. The guitar break that comes at 2:16, however--all pentatonic. Songs that mix straight-ahead, simple-sounding pop with behind-the-scenes craft strike me as close to brilliant most of the time. It helps, I think, to have as charismatic a singer as Shane Nelken, the mastermind behind the Awkward Stage, whose voice has the sort of melodramatic gravitas we heard a lot of back in the New Romantic days of the early '80s, but floats along with less pomposity--he even distorts it through some sort of filtering that keeps him from sounding too full of himself.
"Animé Eyes" is from the CD Slimming Mirrors, Flattering Lights, to be released next month on Mint Records.
"Strawberry Wine" - Trevor Exter
Finger-picking and generally slapping around a beat-up cello, Trevor Exter makes music that is both seriously unusual and thoroughly, pleasingly accessible.
First off, dig the long, funky introduction. I don't usually like long, funky introductions, but I have never before heard one coaxed and charmed and pulled and plucked out of a cello before. In Exter's hands, the instrument generates a soft, incandescent groove, neither bass-like nor guitar-like--nor especially cello-like either, given his unconventional technique. It's kind of mesmerizing, and gets even friskier once the singing starts (after two and a half minutes) and the cello is used as punctuation, in a variety of creative, textured ways. Then again, once the singing starts, it's hard to keep one's ears entirely on the cello, since Exter has a grand instrument right there in his throat--a lithe and buttery tenor, full of soul but light as air. Never before (I don't think) have we heard a cello and a voice perform so intimately and knowingly together, since the cellist and the vocalist are usually two different people. The galvanizing impact on the fabric of the song--the way the cello riffs and rhythms work so tightly in and around the vocal lines--is hard to overstate. And let's not overlook the song itself, which is more than just a pleasant groove; he's written a spiffy hook in there as well (the "trembling, shivering, I am under your spell" part).
Exter grew up, home-schooled, in upstate New York, found the cello at an early age but never took to classical music, and eventually spent a lot of time in South America absorbing a rich array of Brazilian pop into his psyche and repertoire. He's come and gone from New York City over the years, but is currently back there, gaining a following for the crazy, lovable thing that he does, playing both solo and with a band. "Strawberry Wine" is a song off his CD Flying Saucer People, which was self-released this year. MP3 via Exter's site.
"Yer Motion" - Reeve Oliver
And then there remains, even now, much power in the simple formulation of "rock band," just three or four folks banging and strumming and hitting their regular ordinary guitars and drums and maybe a keyboard. Reeve Oliver is, in fact, a band--a trio, from San Diego. "Yer Motion" has nothing unusual going for it except that it happens to be a great song. (And are you tired yet of writers and bloggers who act like music that isn't somehow "new" is somehow bad? A great song is always a revelation.) So let me rephrase this: "Yer Motion" sounds really different than most songs because it's good and, well, a lot of the 7.8 trillion songs currently circulating online (that's an exclusive Fingertips estimate) do not actually qualify as "good."
Why is it good? Energy, arrangement, performance, and (always the kicker, for me) melody. One thing "Yer Motion" does exceptionally well is build on itself: the verse is immediately engaging, with its alternating major and minor chords; then we get a second section that grabs the ear even more, and it turns out to be merely a transition into the chorus, which to my ears is the melodic climax of the song, with its sophisticated twists and tight tight harmonies. Nicely done.
Reeve Oliver has been around since 2000. Signed by Capitol Records in 2006, they were among the bands that were summarily dropped when Capitol merged with Virgin early last year. "Yer Motion" can be found on the band's Touchtone Inferno album, their second full-length, which was self-released digitally at the end of 2007, and is now coming out on CD. A bonus: the album features a great retro look, from the font to the design to the cool B&W photo. Also nicely done.
* Don't forget to visit the all-new Fingertips Store. There you'll find both current releases and back-catalog classics--and, what the heck, even some DVDs and books, too. The Fingertips Store is designed as a boutique; the point is to offer only highly recommended items, not to get you lost in choice overload. The store is basically a small, customized slice of Amazon, and there is no extra cost to you at all; you'll buy items at standard Amazon prices, and still support Fingertips in the process.
This one has the driving grandeur of mid-'70s Roxy Music, but with the arty quirkiness replaced by power-poppiness: "Animé Eyes" positively rings with clarity and catchiness. And yet there's more going on here than might be immediately apparent. Inspired, I imagine, by the subject matter, the verses are based on a pentatonic scale, the five-tone scale historically associated with Asian music. The pentatonic scale has an inherent sing-songy nature (at least, to my Western ears), which serves the goal of a pop song nicely, even as it also lends a slightly exotic je ne sais quoi to the musical setting (especially since the pentatonic underpinning here is subtle; no jokey musical cliches--think "Turning Japanese"--for these guys).
In the chorus, the music shifts subtly but firmly back to a Western orientation, even as there are now some Japanese words being sung--another sure-footed but subtle touch. The guitar break that comes at 2:16, however--all pentatonic. Songs that mix straight-ahead, simple-sounding pop with behind-the-scenes craft strike me as close to brilliant most of the time. It helps, I think, to have as charismatic a singer as Shane Nelken, the mastermind behind the Awkward Stage, whose voice has the sort of melodramatic gravitas we heard a lot of back in the New Romantic days of the early '80s, but floats along with less pomposity--he even distorts it through some sort of filtering that keeps him from sounding too full of himself.
"Animé Eyes" is from the CD Slimming Mirrors, Flattering Lights, to be released next month on Mint Records.
"Strawberry Wine" - Trevor Exter
Finger-picking and generally slapping around a beat-up cello, Trevor Exter makes music that is both seriously unusual and thoroughly, pleasingly accessible.
First off, dig the long, funky introduction. I don't usually like long, funky introductions, but I have never before heard one coaxed and charmed and pulled and plucked out of a cello before. In Exter's hands, the instrument generates a soft, incandescent groove, neither bass-like nor guitar-like--nor especially cello-like either, given his unconventional technique. It's kind of mesmerizing, and gets even friskier once the singing starts (after two and a half minutes) and the cello is used as punctuation, in a variety of creative, textured ways. Then again, once the singing starts, it's hard to keep one's ears entirely on the cello, since Exter has a grand instrument right there in his throat--a lithe and buttery tenor, full of soul but light as air. Never before (I don't think) have we heard a cello and a voice perform so intimately and knowingly together, since the cellist and the vocalist are usually two different people. The galvanizing impact on the fabric of the song--the way the cello riffs and rhythms work so tightly in and around the vocal lines--is hard to overstate. And let's not overlook the song itself, which is more than just a pleasant groove; he's written a spiffy hook in there as well (the "trembling, shivering, I am under your spell" part).
Exter grew up, home-schooled, in upstate New York, found the cello at an early age but never took to classical music, and eventually spent a lot of time in South America absorbing a rich array of Brazilian pop into his psyche and repertoire. He's come and gone from New York City over the years, but is currently back there, gaining a following for the crazy, lovable thing that he does, playing both solo and with a band. "Strawberry Wine" is a song off his CD Flying Saucer People, which was self-released this year. MP3 via Exter's site.
"Yer Motion" - Reeve Oliver
And then there remains, even now, much power in the simple formulation of "rock band," just three or four folks banging and strumming and hitting their regular ordinary guitars and drums and maybe a keyboard. Reeve Oliver is, in fact, a band--a trio, from San Diego. "Yer Motion" has nothing unusual going for it except that it happens to be a great song. (And are you tired yet of writers and bloggers who act like music that isn't somehow "new" is somehow bad? A great song is always a revelation.) So let me rephrase this: "Yer Motion" sounds really different than most songs because it's good and, well, a lot of the 7.8 trillion songs currently circulating online (that's an exclusive Fingertips estimate) do not actually qualify as "good."
Why is it good? Energy, arrangement, performance, and (always the kicker, for me) melody. One thing "Yer Motion" does exceptionally well is build on itself: the verse is immediately engaging, with its alternating major and minor chords; then we get a second section that grabs the ear even more, and it turns out to be merely a transition into the chorus, which to my ears is the melodic climax of the song, with its sophisticated twists and tight tight harmonies. Nicely done.
Reeve Oliver has been around since 2000. Signed by Capitol Records in 2006, they were among the bands that were summarily dropped when Capitol merged with Virgin early last year. "Yer Motion" can be found on the band's Touchtone Inferno album, their second full-length, which was self-released digitally at the end of 2007, and is now coming out on CD. A bonus: the album features a great retro look, from the font to the design to the cool B&W photo. Also nicely done.
* Don't forget to visit the all-new Fingertips Store. There you'll find both current releases and back-catalog classics--and, what the heck, even some DVDs and books, too. The Fingertips Store is designed as a boutique; the point is to offer only highly recommended items, not to get you lost in choice overload. The store is basically a small, customized slice of Amazon, and there is no extra cost to you at all; you'll buy items at standard Amazon prices, and still support Fingertips in the process.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Fingertips returns, with free and legal MP3s from My Brightest Diamond, and more
"Inside a Boy" - My Brightest Diamond
Shara Worden, once again up and running as My Brightest Diamond, has the uncanny ability to create the most expansive musical landscapes within the bounds of what seems merely to be a three-minute forty-second pop song. "Inside a Boy" shimmers, boils, drives, plunges, and aches with an idiosyncratic zeal that should thrill Kate Bush fans, and appeal to anyone with curious ears and an open heart. After an ethereal opening section, featuring a twinkling electric guitar line underneath a heavenly wash of sound, the song finds its central motif--a dark, diving theme that acquires a fierce, orchestral feel as it recurs throughout the piece. Worden produces and arranges her songs, and one of her signature talents is integrating inventive string arrangements with some serious rock'n'roll drumming and, when it seems a good idea, some noisy electric guitars as well. The end result is curious and satisfying.
For all of the musical drama unleashed, the song is more lyrically sparse than it might seem, given the inherent theatricality of Worden's elastic voice. The words, instead, arrive like poetry, and pack a metaphysical wallop: "We are clouds, we are vistas/Like fawns and shape shifters/Our ages can never be found out/No our edges keep moving further out."
The song can be found on the CD A Thousand Shark's Teeth, an album with a number of other jewels to be discovered. It's scheduled for a June release on Asthmatic Kitty Records.
"Fire" - Alibi Tom
Rapid-fire handclaps play off a crisp guitar lick for a series of quick measures and then--bang: I feel like I'm smack in the middle of a full-grown, fully-developed song--as if I opened a hallway door and discovered a band playing behind it. The verse presents an interesting aural contradiction: it feels very active, with a jumpy melody and the continuation of the crisp guitar line, but chord-wise, we're pretty much standing still--as far as my ear can pick out, the entire verse revolves around one chord. (And if it's not precisely one chord, the verse feels harmonically in one basic place all the way through.) The net effect is of serious anticipation, because whether we're aware of it or not, our ears, when listening to music (pop music, specifically), continually anticipate the next chord, as each chord arrived at becomes its own center on the one hand yet implies its displacement on the other. There's always another one coming, and we know it.
This is no doubt a good part of why the chorus, when it arrives (at 0:39) seems so wondrous--it comes after 25 seconds of this paradoxical sort of itchy-standing-stillness. Also, it's a pretty great chorus, all effortless melody and breezy harmony. Now that I think about it, the idea of matching a dynamic melody to a single chord strikes me as the equal-but-opposite effect of having a one-note melody over a changing chord pattern, which is a well-established rock tradition (classic examples being "Subterranean Homesick Blues" and "Pump It Up"). Note, by the way, how, after the chorus but before the next verse, the song fully incorporates the introductory section (handclaps and guitar). This speaks to attention to craft; I always like that.
From Gothenburg, Sweden, the five-piece band Alibi Tom used to be the six-piece band Out of Clouds; as Out of Clouds, they were previously featured here on Fingertips in September 2006. "Fire" is from Scrapbook, the band's debut as Alibi Tom, slated for release in Europe next month on a new British label called Leon. MP3 via the band's site.
"Right Away" - Pattern is Movement
Songs rarely manage to be simultaneously catchy and unusual, but the distinctive Philadelphia duo Pattern is Movement has done it with this odd amalgam of noise, cabaret, and glee. Launched off a fuzz of sound that sounds like a sustained accordion (but probably isn't), "Right Away" hooks me, um, right away--as soon as the singing starts, with the lovely, harmonized melody that becomes the backbone of this sturdy, crazy little number. The oddities are too numerous to list (don't miss the cartoony violins that arrive like meddling relatives to punctuate the lyrics), but topping them all is probably the piano solo at 1:45--just past the midpoint of the song, right where a more traditional band would put the blazing guitar solo, we get instead a muddle of notes such as might happen if you put your hands down anywhere on the keyboard and just sort of let them sit there while you drummed your fingers in place.
Speaking of drumming, sort of, pay attention to the percussion here. Despite an overall rhythm that is nearly mechanical in its one-two-three-four-iness, Chris Ward's drum work is continually creative, utilizing all manner of pitch and accent to keep the texture interesting. Some of this has arisen out of necessity--the band used to have five people in it; down to just a drummer and a keyboard player (Andrew Thiboldeaux, who also sings), Ward has found it useful to be more ingenious. If in so doing he accentuates the duo's overall vibe of purposeful but wacky vigor, all the better.
"Right Away" can be found on the band's third CD, All Together, which is due out next week Hometapes Records.
* News from the web site: The Fingertips Record Shop has been metamorphosed into the Fingertips Store. You'll now find there a larger assortment of CDs, both current releases and back-catalog classics, along with DVDs and books and maybe some other odds and ends over time. It's still boutiquey; the point is to offer only highly recommended items--the selection is expanded but not enough to get you lost in choice overload. To make this change possible, and a much easier thing to create and maintain at my end, the Store is now an all-Amazon affair. There is no extra cost to you at all; you'll buy things there at standard Amazon prices, and still support Fingertips in the process. Check it out when you have a chance.
Shara Worden, once again up and running as My Brightest Diamond, has the uncanny ability to create the most expansive musical landscapes within the bounds of what seems merely to be a three-minute forty-second pop song. "Inside a Boy" shimmers, boils, drives, plunges, and aches with an idiosyncratic zeal that should thrill Kate Bush fans, and appeal to anyone with curious ears and an open heart. After an ethereal opening section, featuring a twinkling electric guitar line underneath a heavenly wash of sound, the song finds its central motif--a dark, diving theme that acquires a fierce, orchestral feel as it recurs throughout the piece. Worden produces and arranges her songs, and one of her signature talents is integrating inventive string arrangements with some serious rock'n'roll drumming and, when it seems a good idea, some noisy electric guitars as well. The end result is curious and satisfying.
For all of the musical drama unleashed, the song is more lyrically sparse than it might seem, given the inherent theatricality of Worden's elastic voice. The words, instead, arrive like poetry, and pack a metaphysical wallop: "We are clouds, we are vistas/Like fawns and shape shifters/Our ages can never be found out/No our edges keep moving further out."
The song can be found on the CD A Thousand Shark's Teeth, an album with a number of other jewels to be discovered. It's scheduled for a June release on Asthmatic Kitty Records.
"Fire" - Alibi Tom
Rapid-fire handclaps play off a crisp guitar lick for a series of quick measures and then--bang: I feel like I'm smack in the middle of a full-grown, fully-developed song--as if I opened a hallway door and discovered a band playing behind it. The verse presents an interesting aural contradiction: it feels very active, with a jumpy melody and the continuation of the crisp guitar line, but chord-wise, we're pretty much standing still--as far as my ear can pick out, the entire verse revolves around one chord. (And if it's not precisely one chord, the verse feels harmonically in one basic place all the way through.) The net effect is of serious anticipation, because whether we're aware of it or not, our ears, when listening to music (pop music, specifically), continually anticipate the next chord, as each chord arrived at becomes its own center on the one hand yet implies its displacement on the other. There's always another one coming, and we know it.
This is no doubt a good part of why the chorus, when it arrives (at 0:39) seems so wondrous--it comes after 25 seconds of this paradoxical sort of itchy-standing-stillness. Also, it's a pretty great chorus, all effortless melody and breezy harmony. Now that I think about it, the idea of matching a dynamic melody to a single chord strikes me as the equal-but-opposite effect of having a one-note melody over a changing chord pattern, which is a well-established rock tradition (classic examples being "Subterranean Homesick Blues" and "Pump It Up"). Note, by the way, how, after the chorus but before the next verse, the song fully incorporates the introductory section (handclaps and guitar). This speaks to attention to craft; I always like that.
From Gothenburg, Sweden, the five-piece band Alibi Tom used to be the six-piece band Out of Clouds; as Out of Clouds, they were previously featured here on Fingertips in September 2006. "Fire" is from Scrapbook, the band's debut as Alibi Tom, slated for release in Europe next month on a new British label called Leon. MP3 via the band's site.
"Right Away" - Pattern is Movement
Songs rarely manage to be simultaneously catchy and unusual, but the distinctive Philadelphia duo Pattern is Movement has done it with this odd amalgam of noise, cabaret, and glee. Launched off a fuzz of sound that sounds like a sustained accordion (but probably isn't), "Right Away" hooks me, um, right away--as soon as the singing starts, with the lovely, harmonized melody that becomes the backbone of this sturdy, crazy little number. The oddities are too numerous to list (don't miss the cartoony violins that arrive like meddling relatives to punctuate the lyrics), but topping them all is probably the piano solo at 1:45--just past the midpoint of the song, right where a more traditional band would put the blazing guitar solo, we get instead a muddle of notes such as might happen if you put your hands down anywhere on the keyboard and just sort of let them sit there while you drummed your fingers in place.
Speaking of drumming, sort of, pay attention to the percussion here. Despite an overall rhythm that is nearly mechanical in its one-two-three-four-iness, Chris Ward's drum work is continually creative, utilizing all manner of pitch and accent to keep the texture interesting. Some of this has arisen out of necessity--the band used to have five people in it; down to just a drummer and a keyboard player (Andrew Thiboldeaux, who also sings), Ward has found it useful to be more ingenious. If in so doing he accentuates the duo's overall vibe of purposeful but wacky vigor, all the better.
"Right Away" can be found on the band's third CD, All Together, which is due out next week Hometapes Records.
* News from the web site: The Fingertips Record Shop has been metamorphosed into the Fingertips Store. You'll now find there a larger assortment of CDs, both current releases and back-catalog classics, along with DVDs and books and maybe some other odds and ends over time. It's still boutiquey; the point is to offer only highly recommended items--the selection is expanded but not enough to get you lost in choice overload. To make this change possible, and a much easier thing to create and maintain at my end, the Store is now an all-Amazon affair. There is no extra cost to you at all; you'll buy things there at standard Amazon prices, and still support Fingertips in the process. Check it out when you have a chance.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Fingertips Top 10 update
Since last we checked into the Fingertips Top 10, some changes have been made. As of April 22, here's what it looks like:
1. "Beyond the Door" - 13ghosts
2. "Boys" - the Autumns
3. "Neal Cassady" - the Weather Underground
4. "Cat Swallow" - the Royal Bangs
5. "Bodyguard" - Dawn Landes
6. "Torn Blue Foam Couch" - Grand Archives
7. "To Be Gone" - Anna Ternheim
8. "Big Sound" - the M's
9. "One, Two, Three!" - I Make This Sound
10. "Buildings and Mountains" - the Republic Tigers
There have been six changes in the chart since the last blog post about it in February, the most recent addition being Anna Ternheim's lovely "To Be Gone." As Fingertips only features high-quality free and legal MP3s, you really can't go wrong with anything written about on the site, but the Top 10 is my way of pointing you towards ten especially wonderful songs at any given time. Songs remain in the Top 10 for a maximum of three months, before they are retired to the Retired Top 10 Songs page, logically enough.
1. "Beyond the Door" - 13ghosts
2. "Boys" - the Autumns
3. "Neal Cassady" - the Weather Underground
4. "Cat Swallow" - the Royal Bangs
5. "Bodyguard" - Dawn Landes
6. "Torn Blue Foam Couch" - Grand Archives
7. "To Be Gone" - Anna Ternheim
8. "Big Sound" - the M's
9. "One, Two, Three!" - I Make This Sound
10. "Buildings and Mountains" - the Republic Tigers
There have been six changes in the chart since the last blog post about it in February, the most recent addition being Anna Ternheim's lovely "To Be Gone." As Fingertips only features high-quality free and legal MP3s, you really can't go wrong with anything written about on the site, but the Top 10 is my way of pointing you towards ten especially wonderful songs at any given time. Songs remain in the Top 10 for a maximum of three months, before they are retired to the Retired Top 10 Songs page, logically enough.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Fingertips says: Take a break!
Fingertips declares Spring Break! In honor of Earth Day and Turn Off Your TV Week, there will be no official "This Week's Finds" selections this week. The Fingertips Home Office will be open all week, so site updates are otherwise likely. Fingertips invites you, meanwhile, to ponder this: we do not, as a culture of educated human beings, generally benefit from filling up all available time and space simply because the space and time seems there to be filled. The mainstream media has proven that beyond argument this election year, with its microscopic idiocy and macroscopic myopia. The blogosphere, alas, proves it everyday. Fight the demon of space- and time-filling and remember to breathe, turn off your screens, and say hello to a nearby tree or two. It won't talk back; it has nothing but time. We might learn a thing or two.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Free and legal MP3s from the Royal Bangs, Anna Ternheim, and the Acorn
* Check out a new feature on the Fingertips web site: the Fingertips Flashback, which takes you back to a free and legal MP3 featured somewhere in the deep dark recesses of "This Week's Finds" history, and still currently available online. This time the song receives an aural introduction, courtesy of Outshouts technology.
"Cat Swallow" - the Royal Bangs
A potent display of ramshackle rock'n'roll that brings the Replacements to mind both for the sloppy-tight ensemble playing and for lead singer Ryan Schaefer's simultaneously offhanded and passionate voice, which is agreeably Westerbergian. The Bangs aim for a glitchy sort of sound, but only at the very beginning and at the very end are these glitches electronic in nature; otherwise, the band achieves its goals via a squeakily insistent, oddly memorable lead guitar line, cymbals-heavy percussion, the well-timed use of phased vocals, and, eventually, a clickety-clackety sound that might in fact be electronic after all but feels organic even if so. All in all there's a certain wild grandeur at play as the piece shambles and swings along. I like how a searing instrumental break suddenly finds the band backing off, at 2:44, to offer a wonderfully subdued bit of guitar work that sounds completely different from what they've been doing but also, somehow, seamlessly part of the whole.
A quartet from Knoxville that is an outgrowth of Schaefer's previous band, a trio called the Suburban Urchins, the Royal Bangs have been together since 2004. "Cat Swallow" is from the band's second CD, We Breed Champions, due out next month on the Akron-based label Audio Eagle, a high-spirited outfit with the unambiguous message "Buy our fucking records!" on its home page.
"To Be Gone" - Anna Ternheim
Sad songs don't always have to be slow, nor do pretty songs. Both sad and pretty, "To Be Gone" nevertheless moves at a steady, initially slinky, and ultimately almost finger-tapping pace, while Ternheim's accented but clear and open-hearted singing style suggests, I think, greater pathos in this hardy setting than most singers convey who seek a melancholy ambiance through hushed tones and drowsy pacing. None of that mush for Ternheim here; "To Be Gone" is a firm-footed beauty, combining a keen if ineffable nostalgia with crystalline presence in the here and now. While there does seem to be something very late '60s- or early '70s-like going on here, the effect is peripheral--listen directly and it disappears.
At the heart of this song is a gorgeous, melancholic moment in the first line of what appears to be the chorus (although the lyrics shift from one iteration to another): it's when the melody pushes forward but the chords lag behind, going seemingly in the opposite direction of where your ear seeks resolution. You can first hear this at 0:36 and then again, somewhat more clearly, at 1:13. I can't completely describe this but the effect of the entire line is almost breathtaking.
Ternheim is from Stockholm, and released her first CD in Sweden in 2004 to great acclaim. "To Be Gone" was available on that CD, and is also now on her first U.S. full-length, Halfway to Fivepoints, coming out next week on Decca Records. The CD features mostly songs from Ternheim's 2006 Swedish release, Separation Road, along with the older single "To Be Gone" and a few other songs from EPs and/or bonus discs from Sweden.
"Crooked Legs" - the Acorn
Opening with an appealing if unassuming bit of finger-picking, "Crooked Legs" begins like pretty much any 21st-century indie rock song written by someone who listened to a lot of old Paul Simon records (him again!; see last week). Except...listen carefully to the background percussion underneath the acoustic guitar. It's syncopated, with a distinctly non-rock'n'roll flavor to it. That's hint number one that this song may not end up where it appears at first to be going.
Hint number two: the trumpets that glide in at 0:48. There is some musical force seeking to enter here from beyond the realm of either standard-issue indie rock or gimmick-driven blog rock. You can hear it come to full expression at 1:09, when the complex, polyrhythmic percussion kicks in and we find ourselves in the middle of a genuine musical adventure. Which is only fitting, given the real-life adventure on which this song (and album) is based. "Part biographical narrative, part surreal fairy tale," as the band describes it, the CD Glory Hope Mountain was inspired by the harrowing story of Gloria Esperanza Montoya (her name roughly translates to the CD's title), mother of the Acorn's singer and songwriter Rolf Klausener. Barely surviving a childhood of poverty and abuse in her native Honduras, Montoya eventually found her way to Montreal without any money or contacts and slowly made a new life for herself.
Writing a concept album about your mother is however not the best way to win over your bandmates, but the power of the story, and the accompanying music, got everyone on board. The Ottawa-based Klausener researched the history and mythology of Honduras, and listened to recordings of the country's folk music; he became particularly inspired by the rhythms of the Garifuna music indigenous to the area, which developed from a blending of native traditions with music that came over with slaves who arrived from West Africa. The final product was less specifically about Montoya than a dream-like musing on the individual's struggle to live a meaningful life.
The Acorn began as a solo project but ultimately became a band when Klausener decided that being a bedroom rocker wasn't all that much fun. There are now five members. Glory Hope Mountain was released on Paper Bag Records in Canada this past fall, and saw its official U.S. release last month. MP3 via Paper Bag.
"Cat Swallow" - the Royal Bangs
A potent display of ramshackle rock'n'roll that brings the Replacements to mind both for the sloppy-tight ensemble playing and for lead singer Ryan Schaefer's simultaneously offhanded and passionate voice, which is agreeably Westerbergian. The Bangs aim for a glitchy sort of sound, but only at the very beginning and at the very end are these glitches electronic in nature; otherwise, the band achieves its goals via a squeakily insistent, oddly memorable lead guitar line, cymbals-heavy percussion, the well-timed use of phased vocals, and, eventually, a clickety-clackety sound that might in fact be electronic after all but feels organic even if so. All in all there's a certain wild grandeur at play as the piece shambles and swings along. I like how a searing instrumental break suddenly finds the band backing off, at 2:44, to offer a wonderfully subdued bit of guitar work that sounds completely different from what they've been doing but also, somehow, seamlessly part of the whole.
A quartet from Knoxville that is an outgrowth of Schaefer's previous band, a trio called the Suburban Urchins, the Royal Bangs have been together since 2004. "Cat Swallow" is from the band's second CD, We Breed Champions, due out next month on the Akron-based label Audio Eagle, a high-spirited outfit with the unambiguous message "Buy our fucking records!" on its home page.
"To Be Gone" - Anna Ternheim
Sad songs don't always have to be slow, nor do pretty songs. Both sad and pretty, "To Be Gone" nevertheless moves at a steady, initially slinky, and ultimately almost finger-tapping pace, while Ternheim's accented but clear and open-hearted singing style suggests, I think, greater pathos in this hardy setting than most singers convey who seek a melancholy ambiance through hushed tones and drowsy pacing. None of that mush for Ternheim here; "To Be Gone" is a firm-footed beauty, combining a keen if ineffable nostalgia with crystalline presence in the here and now. While there does seem to be something very late '60s- or early '70s-like going on here, the effect is peripheral--listen directly and it disappears.
At the heart of this song is a gorgeous, melancholic moment in the first line of what appears to be the chorus (although the lyrics shift from one iteration to another): it's when the melody pushes forward but the chords lag behind, going seemingly in the opposite direction of where your ear seeks resolution. You can first hear this at 0:36 and then again, somewhat more clearly, at 1:13. I can't completely describe this but the effect of the entire line is almost breathtaking.
Ternheim is from Stockholm, and released her first CD in Sweden in 2004 to great acclaim. "To Be Gone" was available on that CD, and is also now on her first U.S. full-length, Halfway to Fivepoints, coming out next week on Decca Records. The CD features mostly songs from Ternheim's 2006 Swedish release, Separation Road, along with the older single "To Be Gone" and a few other songs from EPs and/or bonus discs from Sweden.
"Crooked Legs" - the Acorn
Opening with an appealing if unassuming bit of finger-picking, "Crooked Legs" begins like pretty much any 21st-century indie rock song written by someone who listened to a lot of old Paul Simon records (him again!; see last week). Except...listen carefully to the background percussion underneath the acoustic guitar. It's syncopated, with a distinctly non-rock'n'roll flavor to it. That's hint number one that this song may not end up where it appears at first to be going.
Hint number two: the trumpets that glide in at 0:48. There is some musical force seeking to enter here from beyond the realm of either standard-issue indie rock or gimmick-driven blog rock. You can hear it come to full expression at 1:09, when the complex, polyrhythmic percussion kicks in and we find ourselves in the middle of a genuine musical adventure. Which is only fitting, given the real-life adventure on which this song (and album) is based. "Part biographical narrative, part surreal fairy tale," as the band describes it, the CD Glory Hope Mountain was inspired by the harrowing story of Gloria Esperanza Montoya (her name roughly translates to the CD's title), mother of the Acorn's singer and songwriter Rolf Klausener. Barely surviving a childhood of poverty and abuse in her native Honduras, Montoya eventually found her way to Montreal without any money or contacts and slowly made a new life for herself.
Writing a concept album about your mother is however not the best way to win over your bandmates, but the power of the story, and the accompanying music, got everyone on board. The Ottawa-based Klausener researched the history and mythology of Honduras, and listened to recordings of the country's folk music; he became particularly inspired by the rhythms of the Garifuna music indigenous to the area, which developed from a blending of native traditions with music that came over with slaves who arrived from West Africa. The final product was less specifically about Montoya than a dream-like musing on the individual's struggle to live a meaningful life.
The Acorn began as a solo project but ultimately became a band when Klausener decided that being a bedroom rocker wasn't all that much fun. There are now five members. Glory Hope Mountain was released on Paper Bag Records in Canada this past fall, and saw its official U.S. release last month. MP3 via Paper Bag.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Three new free and legal MP3s from Fingertips
"C'mon Baby Say Bang Bang" - Jane Vain and the Dark Matter
I like songs that bother to lay down a full-fledged instrumental melody--i.e. when an instrument (typically a guitar, sometimes a piano, sometimes something else) plays a melody that is not the same melody the lyrics have in either a verse or in the chorus. That's what we're greeted with right away here (0:00-0:14); and, as a bonus, we immediately get that same melody repeated by a high, squeaky, but somehow endearing instrument that is either a high-pitched guitar or a guitar-like synthesizer and as much as I keep listening I can't tell which it is.
That high-pitched guitar-like thing returns at 1:42, when we are shown how the opening instrumental melody weaves into the main body of the song, which turns out to be in the verse. And while, okay, this sort of thing is not the be-all and end-all of songwriting, the craft and attention it takes to do something like this speaks of a band conscientious about the musical atmosphere it seeks to create. Atmosphere does seem to be Jane Vain and the Dark Matter's specialty, from their fanciful name to the slidey, slinky rhythm to the smoky singing of Jamie Fooks (there is in fact no "Jane Vain") to, most of all, the subtle dynamism of the musical landscape which unfolds along the way here. While the word "atmospheric" in music writing refers typically to spacey washes of psychedelia or shoegaze, these guys create atmosphere in a solider, truer sense of the word, via rhythm and harmony and texture and variety and a most satisfying, if somewhat dreamlike, acuity. The violin that adds some nifty drama between 2:55 and 3:05 had actually sneaked on the scene back around 2:20, without fanfare, and fades away afterwards without a trace. This is that kind of song.
Jane Vain and the Dark Matter are a quartet from Calgary. "C'mon Baby Say Bang Bang" is from the band's debut CD, Love Is Where the Smoke Is, which was released in January.
"Volatile" - the Old Haunts
CBGBs may be dead and gone, but here's a trio from Olympia, Washington that has at least one foot firmly planted in 1977. Combining the pretty-yet-prickly guitar lines of Television with the earnest-yet-comic punk drive of the Ramones, "Volatile" seems simultaneously well-crafted and slapped together, if such a thing is possible. What attracts me most about the song is its offhandedly industrious character: the band just keeps on plugging away, twiddly guitar leading the way, creating the most wonderful, busy-sounding thereness in the background that actually seems more the heart of the song, in a way, than do the melody and lyrics. This sensation is reinforced by the lyrics themselves, which aren't really about very much other than the narrator assuring us that he's "volatile," and literally spelling it out to be sure we understand.
The stringy, nasally vocal stylings of singer/guitarist Craig Extine bring Tom Verlaine directly to mind, accentuating the Television-like sensibility; the fact that this anxious-sounding character, so clear about his emotional turbulence, bothers both to spell the word he's singing (a concept usually reserved for more positive attributes like r-e-s-p-e-c-t and l-o-v-e) and take lovely little "ah-ah-ah" breaks in his singing is both charming and, basically, funny. The trio also includes drummer Tobi Vail, ex- of Bikini Kill, the pioneering '90s "riot grrl" outfit. "Volatile" is a song off the band's new CD, Poisonous Times, coming out this week on Kill Rock Stars. MP3 via Kill Rock Stars, which is in fact the name of a record company, if you were wondering.
"Sun Down" - Nick Freitas
From Kill Rock Stars to Team Love we go--Team Love being another unlikely record company name, pointing in the opposite direction, and co-founded by Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes). With its delicate but determined chug and wistful vocalizing, "Sun Down" is the sort of brisk, contemplative guitar and piano piece that you would have heard back on a Paul Simon record in the '70s. Check out that evocative electric guitar he's using--listen at 1:41 in particular; now that's just a wonderful, decades-old sound you don't hear much on a '00s indie-rock platter (and I don't guess I should be calling it a "platter" but that's how nostalgic the sound is). This song offers pleasures which are so low-key they might have slipped right past me were it not for the song's eminently pleasing center of gravity--I won't call it a hook because it's not quite that, but the way the melody takes that three-note ascent at the end of the verse (first heard at 0:24) is the kind of beautiful, slightly unexpected songwriting touch that goes a long way towards nailing an entire song into place.
"Sun Down" is the title track from Freitas's forthcoming CD, his fourth, and his first for Team Love. Freitas--one-time staff photographer for Thrasher magazine--recorded the CD pretty much on his own, in a studio he pretty much built himself in a shed in his Los Angeles backyard. It's slated to hit the streets next month. MP3 via Team Love.
I like songs that bother to lay down a full-fledged instrumental melody--i.e. when an instrument (typically a guitar, sometimes a piano, sometimes something else) plays a melody that is not the same melody the lyrics have in either a verse or in the chorus. That's what we're greeted with right away here (0:00-0:14); and, as a bonus, we immediately get that same melody repeated by a high, squeaky, but somehow endearing instrument that is either a high-pitched guitar or a guitar-like synthesizer and as much as I keep listening I can't tell which it is.
That high-pitched guitar-like thing returns at 1:42, when we are shown how the opening instrumental melody weaves into the main body of the song, which turns out to be in the verse. And while, okay, this sort of thing is not the be-all and end-all of songwriting, the craft and attention it takes to do something like this speaks of a band conscientious about the musical atmosphere it seeks to create. Atmosphere does seem to be Jane Vain and the Dark Matter's specialty, from their fanciful name to the slidey, slinky rhythm to the smoky singing of Jamie Fooks (there is in fact no "Jane Vain") to, most of all, the subtle dynamism of the musical landscape which unfolds along the way here. While the word "atmospheric" in music writing refers typically to spacey washes of psychedelia or shoegaze, these guys create atmosphere in a solider, truer sense of the word, via rhythm and harmony and texture and variety and a most satisfying, if somewhat dreamlike, acuity. The violin that adds some nifty drama between 2:55 and 3:05 had actually sneaked on the scene back around 2:20, without fanfare, and fades away afterwards without a trace. This is that kind of song.
Jane Vain and the Dark Matter are a quartet from Calgary. "C'mon Baby Say Bang Bang" is from the band's debut CD, Love Is Where the Smoke Is, which was released in January.
"Volatile" - the Old Haunts
CBGBs may be dead and gone, but here's a trio from Olympia, Washington that has at least one foot firmly planted in 1977. Combining the pretty-yet-prickly guitar lines of Television with the earnest-yet-comic punk drive of the Ramones, "Volatile" seems simultaneously well-crafted and slapped together, if such a thing is possible. What attracts me most about the song is its offhandedly industrious character: the band just keeps on plugging away, twiddly guitar leading the way, creating the most wonderful, busy-sounding thereness in the background that actually seems more the heart of the song, in a way, than do the melody and lyrics. This sensation is reinforced by the lyrics themselves, which aren't really about very much other than the narrator assuring us that he's "volatile," and literally spelling it out to be sure we understand.
The stringy, nasally vocal stylings of singer/guitarist Craig Extine bring Tom Verlaine directly to mind, accentuating the Television-like sensibility; the fact that this anxious-sounding character, so clear about his emotional turbulence, bothers both to spell the word he's singing (a concept usually reserved for more positive attributes like r-e-s-p-e-c-t and l-o-v-e) and take lovely little "ah-ah-ah" breaks in his singing is both charming and, basically, funny. The trio also includes drummer Tobi Vail, ex- of Bikini Kill, the pioneering '90s "riot grrl" outfit. "Volatile" is a song off the band's new CD, Poisonous Times, coming out this week on Kill Rock Stars. MP3 via Kill Rock Stars, which is in fact the name of a record company, if you were wondering.
"Sun Down" - Nick Freitas
From Kill Rock Stars to Team Love we go--Team Love being another unlikely record company name, pointing in the opposite direction, and co-founded by Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes). With its delicate but determined chug and wistful vocalizing, "Sun Down" is the sort of brisk, contemplative guitar and piano piece that you would have heard back on a Paul Simon record in the '70s. Check out that evocative electric guitar he's using--listen at 1:41 in particular; now that's just a wonderful, decades-old sound you don't hear much on a '00s indie-rock platter (and I don't guess I should be calling it a "platter" but that's how nostalgic the sound is). This song offers pleasures which are so low-key they might have slipped right past me were it not for the song's eminently pleasing center of gravity--I won't call it a hook because it's not quite that, but the way the melody takes that three-note ascent at the end of the verse (first heard at 0:24) is the kind of beautiful, slightly unexpected songwriting touch that goes a long way towards nailing an entire song into place.
"Sun Down" is the title track from Freitas's forthcoming CD, his fourth, and his first for Team Love. Freitas--one-time staff photographer for Thrasher magazine--recorded the CD pretty much on his own, in a studio he pretty much built himself in a shed in his Los Angeles backyard. It's slated to hit the streets next month. MP3 via Team Love.
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