"In Perfect Time" - the Sun
A fuzzy blast of melodic noise, "In Perfect Time" seems to want to be played really loud. As a matter of fact, it has a kind of sneaky effect going--the louder I turn it, the louder still I feel I need to hear it. This clearly has to do with how singer Chris Burney's voice is mixed down, but it's more than just that. Any number of other bands have done the mixed-down-vocals thing and it doesn't always have my hand reaching for the volume dial (okay, not a dial anymore, but whatever). So what else is going on here?
Part of it has to do with the unerring melodicism on display. Songwriters with the talent to write this kind of strong, earnest pop melody--Matthew Sweet in his heyday had this kind of sound--typically give you the thing right out front. You don't have to fight for it. I turn the volume up here because I'm trying to put the melody where I'm used to hearing it. But, of course, turning the volume up only turns all the background wash louder also. And the noise is not at all unpleasant, mind you. It's bashy and tinny and crunchy. And when it gets louder, I need to turn the volume yet higher, again trying to raise the vocals to a more audible level. A losing battle in this case, especially since--strange but true--the wall of sound appears to get proportionally louder than the vocals as I increase the volume. Producer Mike McCarthy has some wacky magic going here, perhaps the after-effect of working with Spoon's studied minimalism for so many years (he's produced all their albums since 2001).
The Sun is a band from Columbus, Ohio that did not name themselves with Google in mind. "In Perfect Time" is the closing track on the album Don't Let Your Baby Have All The Fun, released this week on Rock Proper. Rock Proper happens to be a so-called "netlabel," which means that its releases are entirely digital and entirely free. You can download all the songs from the album as free and legal downloads here.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Monday, November 09, 2009
New Fingertips Commentary: Farewell to the Casual Fan
There's a new Fingertips Commentary essay on the main site, called "Farewell to the Casual Fan." Subtitle: "Too many 'future of music' schemes overlook the importance of listeners who don't worship you."
As always, it's a somewhat lengthy discussion, so I'm breaking it into two parts for the blog. I'll post the second part on Wednesday. The weekly MP3 selections should be up tomorrow. The essay is the same here as on the main site, except there are a handful of footnotes accompanying the piece on the Fingertips site, which flesh out the subject at hand.
* * * * *
One of the recurring themes of the recent Future of Music Policy Summit in Washington, DC was the necessity, for musicians, to develop an "active fan base." There wasn't one specific panel about this, or one discussion; it was instead a constant thread through many different panels and discussions, and the seemingly inevitable answer to the industry's $64,000 question: how on earth can musicians earn a living in the digital age?
We all know the basic plot by now. Musicians are on their own out there, lacking both the imprimatur and promotional budget once afforded by big record labels. And by the way no one wants to buy music anymore either. What's a poor singer/songwriter boy or girl to do?
At the conference, something like a consensus emerged in response: foster the artist-fan relationship. Any number of experts in any number of different ways ultimately said the same thing: succeed with so-called "fan engagement" and you're on your way. (Well, okay, musicians were also told, repeatedly, "not to suck." Another worthy goal, but outside of the purview of this essay.)
And luckily for today's musicians, the internet is just one big crazy fan-engagement machine, if properly operated. Through regular forays into blogging, Twittering, and Facebooking, musicians can get up close and personal with their fans, and use this interaction to--let's be blunt--make money.
In the minds of those pinning the future of musician well-being on fan engagement, what they're talking about is really a sort of fan engagement on steroids. It's not just about collecting email addresses and talking to fans at the merch table after the show. That's relatively easy, old-fashioned, and, now, inadequate.
Fan engagement as newly conceived is relatively difficult. It involves managing an arsenal of 24/7 social media pages and being ever on the lookout for creative avenues of interaction and out-of-the-ordinary sales opportunities. Needless to say, this is time-consuming. And--it should be noted--the path from this new, aggressive kind of fan engagement to revenue isn't necessarily clear.
The general idea, however, is that the more that fans feel connected to musicians they love, the more they are likely to want to attend their concerts, buy not merely songs but premium items (specially packaged albums, boxes, et al), and be interested enough in their beloved musicians' comings and goings to be willing to pay as well for any number of offshoot endeavors that the musician can dream up--custom clothing, exclusive video performances, hand-made art items, you name it.
With all this in mind you can see why the experts at the conference seemed to agree that in the digital age, the central important thing that's changing in the music industry is not so much the technology as the artist/fan relationship. Musicians should be thinking of fans not as fans at all but, said one panelist, as "co-conspirators."
So I'm listening to these ideas in Washington and I'm wondering what isn't sitting right with me. Not that there's anything wrong with the concept of fan engagement per se. How could there be? All any committed band wants to do is make an honest living through their music, and I understand why an augmented sort of fan engagement strategy may be just the way some bands eke it out in the digital age.
But I also think the fan engagement bandwagon is missing something significant in the bigger picture of how music functions in the world.
Outside of the confines of the Future of Music Policy Summit, this new approach to fan engagement has been most widely pondered and discussed in the context of Kevin Kelly's well-known "1,000 True Fans" post from last year. As pundits are wont to do, Kelly attempted to crystalize an interesting idea into a concrete credo, which was his hypothesis that anyone producing any kind of art needs only to have 1,000 passionate, committed fans to make a living.
Most of the discussion generated by "1,000 True Fans" has focused on whether it works or not financially. Is 1,000 the right number? Is it more if you have more people in the band? I'll leave that to others. I'm wondering about whether it works culturally.
In some important ways, if the music scene is transformed into a place in which all worthy musicians are supported by enclaves of super-engaged fans, 21st-century rock'n'roll musicians may win the battle but lose the war. Because the more that artists require so-called super-fans for their livelihood, the more they will leave behind the very sorts of casual fans that made rock'n'roll such a robust musical arena for such a long time.
For better or worse, popular music depends upon the existence of casual fans. Back when the big albums of the day were selling a few million copies, these were not purchased by a few million super-fans. Even when a band like Arcade Fire sells a "mere" 300,000 copies of an album, this does not represent an audience of 300,000 super-fans. Once a band achieves any measure of widespread success, that success hinges, somewhat paradoxically, upon catching the attention of people who aren't really paying attention.
Today's fan engagement schemes, however, deny the existence of casual fans by leaving them out of the picture entirely.
Because what entices a super-fan will almost, by definition, be of no interest to a casual fan. Just because you happen to like a song or two, or even an album or two, doesn't mean you require a musician's real-time biographical details, doesn't mean you crave endless streams of recording flotsam and jetsam (b-sides, live takes, remixes, etc.), doesn't mean you'll want to purchase objects lit by physical association with the musician (self-designed t-shirts, hand-addressed postcards, and the like) or watch repeated video presentations.
Casual fans also lack any need for the very sort of online interaction that sits like a holy grail at the center of this new idea of fan engagement. The various schemes I'm seeing now on a daily basis--make a video of a song for a contest! donate money so your name can go on the album jacket! subscribe to a service offering journal entries and/or webcasts and/or live recordings!--make no sense to a casual fan.
Most important of all, a casual fan will not spend upwards of $100 a year purchasing music and other accessory items from one band or musician.
In his original "1,000 True Fans" post, Kelly asserted that the processes artists develop to feed their diehard fans will also nurture what he calls "Lesser Fans." I see no evidence beyond wishful thinking to support this idea.
I believe, on the contrary, that the more the music scene focuses on these kinds of super-fan activities, the more likely it will be that casual fans more or less disappear.
Such a development will not be unprecedented in the unfolding history of music. For instance, you have to be something of a super-fan to know what to do with, how to listen to, and how to interact economically with classical music. Jazz is another genre that caters by and large to super-fans.
This could be rock'n'roll's trajectory too. And that may be for the best for all I know. But I don't think anyone busy touting hyperactive fan-engagement scenarios has considered the large-scale consequences of transforming rock into a super-fan genre.
So let's look at four such consequences.
Consequence No. 1: Far, far fewer fans for rock music
Proponents of these super-fan scenarios seem to be presuming that the total number of active music fans will remain somewhat the same. That's the beauty of it, in theory: so, instead of three million people buying one particular artist's album, 1,000 people will buy 3,000 different albums. That's still three million music fans, right?
Actually, no. As noted earlier, in the glory days of the album-selling past, if any one artist sold an album to three million people, a large percentage of those people were casual fans--people who heard a song or two and liked them enough to buy the album, or people who had been exposed to the music via a friend, or people who were just kind of swept along by the zeitgeist.
There is of course no research to cite here; I can only go with decades of my own anecdotal observations. I'm suspecting that the ever-useful 80-20 rule may be applied, but in any case it is clear that any band throughout rock history that has broken through to some amount of widespread success--say, sales of 250,000 copies or more of one album--has done so largely on the backs (and purse strings) of casual fans. Probably, also, the higher the total number of albums sold, the higher the percentage of casual fans.
Super-fan orientation shrinks the rock'n'roll marketplace because to foster tribes of passionate fans requires throwing maybe 80 percent of the potential audience out the window.
Musicians nurturing diehard fans are not, of course, making a conscious decision to freeze out casual fans. It's just that seeking to promote super-fans inherently alienates the non-super-fan. I disagree with Kevin Kelly's belief that musicians will be able to "convert" their "Lesser Fans" into "True Fans" in an ongoing way. I contend, instead, that casual fans (a phrase I prefer to "lesser fans") are disinclined, behaviorally, to be somehow lured into ratcheting up their involvement with any musician simply because they happen to like a few of his or her songs.
In my experience a True Fan is actually a type of person (and I mean that almost archetypally). I don't think casual fans are typically or easily converted into True Fans. Sure, you might get them to give your their email address for a free MP3 but their hearts won't be in it for the long run. (What is likely, instead, is that a True Fan of one musician will be open, additionally, to becoming a True Fan of any number of other musicians. The market isn't expansive but, rather, cannibalistic.)
From the perspective of any one individual musician who is happy now to be supported by his or her diehard admirers, freezing out or alienating casual fans may be pretty much okay--a necessary evil, say. And maybe this will foster a whole new kind of music, as bands aim not for mass success at all, but for idiosyncratic sonic niches, or, in any case, sounds that appeal to much smaller rather than much larger numbers of people.
Let's just be clear, however, about what casting aside casual fans entails. If industry pundits are wringing their hands to date over shrinking bottom lines, just wait till the super-fans take over.
* * * * *
The rest of this essay will be posted to the blog on Wednesday. If you want to read the whole thing right away, got to the Commentary page on the main Fingertips site.
As always, it's a somewhat lengthy discussion, so I'm breaking it into two parts for the blog. I'll post the second part on Wednesday. The weekly MP3 selections should be up tomorrow. The essay is the same here as on the main site, except there are a handful of footnotes accompanying the piece on the Fingertips site, which flesh out the subject at hand.
* * * * *
One of the recurring themes of the recent Future of Music Policy Summit in Washington, DC was the necessity, for musicians, to develop an "active fan base." There wasn't one specific panel about this, or one discussion; it was instead a constant thread through many different panels and discussions, and the seemingly inevitable answer to the industry's $64,000 question: how on earth can musicians earn a living in the digital age?We all know the basic plot by now. Musicians are on their own out there, lacking both the imprimatur and promotional budget once afforded by big record labels. And by the way no one wants to buy music anymore either. What's a poor singer/songwriter boy or girl to do?
At the conference, something like a consensus emerged in response: foster the artist-fan relationship. Any number of experts in any number of different ways ultimately said the same thing: succeed with so-called "fan engagement" and you're on your way. (Well, okay, musicians were also told, repeatedly, "not to suck." Another worthy goal, but outside of the purview of this essay.)
And luckily for today's musicians, the internet is just one big crazy fan-engagement machine, if properly operated. Through regular forays into blogging, Twittering, and Facebooking, musicians can get up close and personal with their fans, and use this interaction to--let's be blunt--make money.
In the minds of those pinning the future of musician well-being on fan engagement, what they're talking about is really a sort of fan engagement on steroids. It's not just about collecting email addresses and talking to fans at the merch table after the show. That's relatively easy, old-fashioned, and, now, inadequate.
Fan engagement as newly conceived is relatively difficult. It involves managing an arsenal of 24/7 social media pages and being ever on the lookout for creative avenues of interaction and out-of-the-ordinary sales opportunities. Needless to say, this is time-consuming. And--it should be noted--the path from this new, aggressive kind of fan engagement to revenue isn't necessarily clear.
The general idea, however, is that the more that fans feel connected to musicians they love, the more they are likely to want to attend their concerts, buy not merely songs but premium items (specially packaged albums, boxes, et al), and be interested enough in their beloved musicians' comings and goings to be willing to pay as well for any number of offshoot endeavors that the musician can dream up--custom clothing, exclusive video performances, hand-made art items, you name it.
With all this in mind you can see why the experts at the conference seemed to agree that in the digital age, the central important thing that's changing in the music industry is not so much the technology as the artist/fan relationship. Musicians should be thinking of fans not as fans at all but, said one panelist, as "co-conspirators."
So I'm listening to these ideas in Washington and I'm wondering what isn't sitting right with me. Not that there's anything wrong with the concept of fan engagement per se. How could there be? All any committed band wants to do is make an honest living through their music, and I understand why an augmented sort of fan engagement strategy may be just the way some bands eke it out in the digital age.
But I also think the fan engagement bandwagon is missing something significant in the bigger picture of how music functions in the world.
Outside of the confines of the Future of Music Policy Summit, this new approach to fan engagement has been most widely pondered and discussed in the context of Kevin Kelly's well-known "1,000 True Fans" post from last year. As pundits are wont to do, Kelly attempted to crystalize an interesting idea into a concrete credo, which was his hypothesis that anyone producing any kind of art needs only to have 1,000 passionate, committed fans to make a living.
Most of the discussion generated by "1,000 True Fans" has focused on whether it works or not financially. Is 1,000 the right number? Is it more if you have more people in the band? I'll leave that to others. I'm wondering about whether it works culturally.
In some important ways, if the music scene is transformed into a place in which all worthy musicians are supported by enclaves of super-engaged fans, 21st-century rock'n'roll musicians may win the battle but lose the war. Because the more that artists require so-called super-fans for their livelihood, the more they will leave behind the very sorts of casual fans that made rock'n'roll such a robust musical arena for such a long time.
For better or worse, popular music depends upon the existence of casual fans. Back when the big albums of the day were selling a few million copies, these were not purchased by a few million super-fans. Even when a band like Arcade Fire sells a "mere" 300,000 copies of an album, this does not represent an audience of 300,000 super-fans. Once a band achieves any measure of widespread success, that success hinges, somewhat paradoxically, upon catching the attention of people who aren't really paying attention.
Today's fan engagement schemes, however, deny the existence of casual fans by leaving them out of the picture entirely.
Because what entices a super-fan will almost, by definition, be of no interest to a casual fan. Just because you happen to like a song or two, or even an album or two, doesn't mean you require a musician's real-time biographical details, doesn't mean you crave endless streams of recording flotsam and jetsam (b-sides, live takes, remixes, etc.), doesn't mean you'll want to purchase objects lit by physical association with the musician (self-designed t-shirts, hand-addressed postcards, and the like) or watch repeated video presentations.
Casual fans also lack any need for the very sort of online interaction that sits like a holy grail at the center of this new idea of fan engagement. The various schemes I'm seeing now on a daily basis--make a video of a song for a contest! donate money so your name can go on the album jacket! subscribe to a service offering journal entries and/or webcasts and/or live recordings!--make no sense to a casual fan.
Most important of all, a casual fan will not spend upwards of $100 a year purchasing music and other accessory items from one band or musician.
In his original "1,000 True Fans" post, Kelly asserted that the processes artists develop to feed their diehard fans will also nurture what he calls "Lesser Fans." I see no evidence beyond wishful thinking to support this idea.
I believe, on the contrary, that the more the music scene focuses on these kinds of super-fan activities, the more likely it will be that casual fans more or less disappear.
Such a development will not be unprecedented in the unfolding history of music. For instance, you have to be something of a super-fan to know what to do with, how to listen to, and how to interact economically with classical music. Jazz is another genre that caters by and large to super-fans.
This could be rock'n'roll's trajectory too. And that may be for the best for all I know. But I don't think anyone busy touting hyperactive fan-engagement scenarios has considered the large-scale consequences of transforming rock into a super-fan genre.
So let's look at four such consequences.
Consequence No. 1: Far, far fewer fans for rock music
Proponents of these super-fan scenarios seem to be presuming that the total number of active music fans will remain somewhat the same. That's the beauty of it, in theory: so, instead of three million people buying one particular artist's album, 1,000 people will buy 3,000 different albums. That's still three million music fans, right?
Actually, no. As noted earlier, in the glory days of the album-selling past, if any one artist sold an album to three million people, a large percentage of those people were casual fans--people who heard a song or two and liked them enough to buy the album, or people who had been exposed to the music via a friend, or people who were just kind of swept along by the zeitgeist.
There is of course no research to cite here; I can only go with decades of my own anecdotal observations. I'm suspecting that the ever-useful 80-20 rule may be applied, but in any case it is clear that any band throughout rock history that has broken through to some amount of widespread success--say, sales of 250,000 copies or more of one album--has done so largely on the backs (and purse strings) of casual fans. Probably, also, the higher the total number of albums sold, the higher the percentage of casual fans.
Super-fan orientation shrinks the rock'n'roll marketplace because to foster tribes of passionate fans requires throwing maybe 80 percent of the potential audience out the window.
Musicians nurturing diehard fans are not, of course, making a conscious decision to freeze out casual fans. It's just that seeking to promote super-fans inherently alienates the non-super-fan. I disagree with Kevin Kelly's belief that musicians will be able to "convert" their "Lesser Fans" into "True Fans" in an ongoing way. I contend, instead, that casual fans (a phrase I prefer to "lesser fans") are disinclined, behaviorally, to be somehow lured into ratcheting up their involvement with any musician simply because they happen to like a few of his or her songs.
In my experience a True Fan is actually a type of person (and I mean that almost archetypally). I don't think casual fans are typically or easily converted into True Fans. Sure, you might get them to give your their email address for a free MP3 but their hearts won't be in it for the long run. (What is likely, instead, is that a True Fan of one musician will be open, additionally, to becoming a True Fan of any number of other musicians. The market isn't expansive but, rather, cannibalistic.)
From the perspective of any one individual musician who is happy now to be supported by his or her diehard admirers, freezing out or alienating casual fans may be pretty much okay--a necessary evil, say. And maybe this will foster a whole new kind of music, as bands aim not for mass success at all, but for idiosyncratic sonic niches, or, in any case, sounds that appeal to much smaller rather than much larger numbers of people.
Let's just be clear, however, about what casting aside casual fans entails. If industry pundits are wringing their hands to date over shrinking bottom lines, just wait till the super-fans take over.
* * * * *
The rest of this essay will be posted to the blog on Wednesday. If you want to read the whole thing right away, got to the Commentary page on the main Fingertips site.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
November Q&A: Morningbell
The latest Fingertips Q&A is now online, featuring Eric Atria of the Gainesville, Fla.-based band Morningbell. Morningbell has been twice featured on Fingertips to date, most recently at the end of September for the song "Marching Off to War."
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Attention winners of the Top 10 contest from October 10!
Sorry to bug everyone else but this message goes only to the three people who won the Top 10 contest from October 10. Thanks to a bit of prodding by one of the winners, I just realized I gave the wrong email address out, so anyone who's emailed me at that address, well, I never got it.
I'm sensitive about putting my email address into a post here on the blog for fear of spamming--this is no doubt how I messed the address up in the first place--but let's just say you assemble my address but making one word of "fingertips" and "music" and then hooking it up with gmail. Put the "at" sign in the right place, add the dot com and you're all set.
Please do contact me if you were one of the winners. I want to be able to send you your prize!
Many apologies for the screw-up at my end and associated inconveniences. Back to our regularly scheduled programming.
I'm sensitive about putting my email address into a post here on the blog for fear of spamming--this is no doubt how I messed the address up in the first place--but let's just say you assemble my address but making one word of "fingertips" and "music" and then hooking it up with gmail. Put the "at" sign in the right place, add the dot com and you're all set.
Please do contact me if you were one of the winners. I want to be able to send you your prize!
Many apologies for the screw-up at my end and associated inconveniences. Back to our regularly scheduled programming.
Free and legal MP3 from Ravens & Chimes (sprightly indie rock w/ an edge of reserve)
"Hearts of Palm" - Ravens & Chimes
Cheerful songs are usually vigorous things. Songs that seem hesitant, wavery, or otherwise introverted, on the other hand, tend to be at best wistful if not downright mournful. "Hearts of Palm" subverts the formula, and is all the more effective for it--a sprightly, hopeful-sounding song edged by an equivocal, somewhat trembling vibe.
Some of this is due to the vocal qualities of Asher Lack, who sings like someone wading into cold water, at once timid and determined, while instruments chug forward around him. But listen and you'll hear how the music yet reinforces the partially timorous atmosphere: it's peppy, yes, but likewise stuttery, and lacking the oomph and crunch of a typical rock band. This isn't for lack of personnel. Ravens & Chimes is a six-person outfit, but the members are busier playing things like harmonium and flute and glockenspiel to bother with the din of standard-issue rock'n'roll. And so this is how we end up with this buoyant, reserved piece of pop and I for one am happier for having heard it. I especially love the agile, islandy flute lines and the beautiful, pure-toned female harmony vocal that blends and yet doesn't quite blend with Lack's quasi-speak-singing in the chorus.
"Hearts of Palm" is a single from the band's forthcoming and as-yet untitled second album. Its first CD, Reichenbach Falls, came out in 2007. Prior to the album's release, this song is slated to be released soon as the a-side of a 7-inch single. MP3 via the band's site.
Cheerful songs are usually vigorous things. Songs that seem hesitant, wavery, or otherwise introverted, on the other hand, tend to be at best wistful if not downright mournful. "Hearts of Palm" subverts the formula, and is all the more effective for it--a sprightly, hopeful-sounding song edged by an equivocal, somewhat trembling vibe.
Some of this is due to the vocal qualities of Asher Lack, who sings like someone wading into cold water, at once timid and determined, while instruments chug forward around him. But listen and you'll hear how the music yet reinforces the partially timorous atmosphere: it's peppy, yes, but likewise stuttery, and lacking the oomph and crunch of a typical rock band. This isn't for lack of personnel. Ravens & Chimes is a six-person outfit, but the members are busier playing things like harmonium and flute and glockenspiel to bother with the din of standard-issue rock'n'roll. And so this is how we end up with this buoyant, reserved piece of pop and I for one am happier for having heard it. I especially love the agile, islandy flute lines and the beautiful, pure-toned female harmony vocal that blends and yet doesn't quite blend with Lack's quasi-speak-singing in the chorus.
"Hearts of Palm" is a single from the band's forthcoming and as-yet untitled second album. Its first CD, Reichenbach Falls, came out in 2007. Prior to the album's release, this song is slated to be released soon as the a-side of a 7-inch single. MP3 via the band's site.
Free and legal MP3 from Tahiti 80 (carefree English-speaking French pop done right)
"Unpredictable" - Tahiti 80
Carefree English-speaking French pop from a band doing it before it was a genre. There's something not only charming but truly satisfying about a song that works quite so well both for people who are barely paying attention and for people paying close attention. This is no small feat. For the first group, a jaunty, smoothly sung tune is all that's required. Great background music. The second group is trickier to please, as the music has to display a sort of depth that jaunty, smoothly sung tunes by their nature often lack.
The depth here, for me, is rooted in the song's offhanded musicality. "Unpredictable" is full of interesting moments that whisper rather than shout as they unfold. Listen, for instance, to the very start: we hear a basic drumbeat that the ear expects to be established through four standard measures but instead--there for us to notice, or not--it's interrupted after three seconds, in the second measure, which grounds the song in a sort of percussive pre-introduction. Only after that comes the standard four-measure intro. Listen, as another example, to the subtle adjustments the melody makes in the verse and how seductively singer Xavier Boyle wraps his faintly textured tenor around them: the way the melody mimics the keyboard riff at 0:23; the slow then fast pacing in the phrase "knock me down" at 0:31; the way the verse line is shortened and turned on the unresolved phrase "on the wall" at 0:35; and that's just in the first verse. I give the band points, too, for an entirely different kind of craftiness--how the song title comes not from the chorus but from the verse. That's rare in a chipper number like this one; anyone seeking only the inattentive audience will place the title where it repeats most obviously.
Bouncing along since 1993, Tahiti 80 is quartet from Rouen, France. "Unpredictable" is from the album Activity Center, the band's fourth, which has been out for a year in Europe; its U.S. release comes, at last, later this month.
Carefree English-speaking French pop from a band doing it before it was a genre. There's something not only charming but truly satisfying about a song that works quite so well both for people who are barely paying attention and for people paying close attention. This is no small feat. For the first group, a jaunty, smoothly sung tune is all that's required. Great background music. The second group is trickier to please, as the music has to display a sort of depth that jaunty, smoothly sung tunes by their nature often lack.
The depth here, for me, is rooted in the song's offhanded musicality. "Unpredictable" is full of interesting moments that whisper rather than shout as they unfold. Listen, for instance, to the very start: we hear a basic drumbeat that the ear expects to be established through four standard measures but instead--there for us to notice, or not--it's interrupted after three seconds, in the second measure, which grounds the song in a sort of percussive pre-introduction. Only after that comes the standard four-measure intro. Listen, as another example, to the subtle adjustments the melody makes in the verse and how seductively singer Xavier Boyle wraps his faintly textured tenor around them: the way the melody mimics the keyboard riff at 0:23; the slow then fast pacing in the phrase "knock me down" at 0:31; the way the verse line is shortened and turned on the unresolved phrase "on the wall" at 0:35; and that's just in the first verse. I give the band points, too, for an entirely different kind of craftiness--how the song title comes not from the chorus but from the verse. That's rare in a chipper number like this one; anyone seeking only the inattentive audience will place the title where it repeats most obviously.
Bouncing along since 1993, Tahiti 80 is quartet from Rouen, France. "Unpredictable" is from the album Activity Center, the band's fourth, which has been out for a year in Europe; its U.S. release comes, at last, later this month.
Free and legal MP3 from Múm (melancholy mystery from Iceland)
"Illuminated" - Múm
The fact that Múm wrote the music to its most recent album in the middle of Iceland's economic meltdown and political upheaval adds poignancy to the already melancholy beauty of "Illuminated." Against a bed of mystical tinkling and mysterious vocal arpeggios, "Illuminated" doesn't so much start as float into being. The extended chord progression described by the angelic arpeggios becomes the framework of this soothing but enigmatic song. A minute passes before front man Gunnar Örn Tynes begins a lyrical exploration of the central chord progression, a 30-second vocal segment that we hear just twice, the second slightly altered from the first: in both cases, a dreamy, impressionistic account of a man falling off his bike, into the snow, and then melting the snow and drinking it.
There is nothing to analyze here intellectually. The song floats into being and floats out of being. A man falls in the snow, illuminated. Voices sing wordlessly, unusual keyboards play, and a string quartet. Somewhere a country is falling apart. Somewhere else someone falls off a bicycle into the snow.
You'll find "Illuminated" at the tail end of Múm's latest album, Sing Along to Songs You Don't Know, the band's fifth. MP3 via Better Propaganda.
The fact that Múm wrote the music to its most recent album in the middle of Iceland's economic meltdown and political upheaval adds poignancy to the already melancholy beauty of "Illuminated." Against a bed of mystical tinkling and mysterious vocal arpeggios, "Illuminated" doesn't so much start as float into being. The extended chord progression described by the angelic arpeggios becomes the framework of this soothing but enigmatic song. A minute passes before front man Gunnar Örn Tynes begins a lyrical exploration of the central chord progression, a 30-second vocal segment that we hear just twice, the second slightly altered from the first: in both cases, a dreamy, impressionistic account of a man falling off his bike, into the snow, and then melting the snow and drinking it.
There is nothing to analyze here intellectually. The song floats into being and floats out of being. A man falls in the snow, illuminated. Voices sing wordlessly, unusual keyboards play, and a string quartet. Somewhere a country is falling apart. Somewhere else someone falls off a bicycle into the snow.
You'll find "Illuminated" at the tail end of Múm's latest album, Sing Along to Songs You Don't Know, the band's fifth. MP3 via Better Propaganda.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from Surfer Blood (instantly engaging, unusually constructed)
"Floating Vibes" - Surfer Blood
"Floating Vibes" has that deep guitar thing going right away, which I always find gratifying. And which always makes me wonder why rock'n'roll has so consistently (and, to my ears, stupidly) glorified the sound of a wailing guitar played so high up on the neck that there's no room left for the guitarist's fingers. I'll take the robust, thoughtful tremor of the lowest register over screechy wails any day. And check out the countervailing seventh notes that begin appearing at 0:20, floating with offhand precision above the darker sound, the quasi-dissonance of that interval perking the ear up in a most welcome and curious way. This song is pretty great before singer John Paul Pitts--known merely as JP--opens his mouth.
And it gets better. The basic guitar refrain of the introduction becomes the verse melody, with the seventh-note question marks now removed, giving the melody a newly grounded sense of certainty. The harmonies that accompany the melody the second time through (1:00) are subtle and ingenious--the harmony voice is pretty much singing one note--and solidify the melodic construction so firmly that the song never returns to it. It turns out that for all its easy-going tunefulness, "Floating Vibes" is subversive with respect to form: there is no standard chorus and no verse that repeats throughout the song. Rather, there are three different verse melodies, separated by instrumental breaks. The first is the one rooted in the introduction, the second is introduced at an instrumental break at 1:16, and the third (2:35) is a kind of mash-up of the first two. The final instrumental section moves onto yet another melody and features a violin, as unexpected as it is effective.
Surfer Blood is a quintet of non-surfers from West Palm Beach. "Floating Vibes" is the lead track from Astro Coast, the band's debut, slated for released in January on Brooklyn-based Kanine Records. MP3 via Pitchfork.
"Floating Vibes" has that deep guitar thing going right away, which I always find gratifying. And which always makes me wonder why rock'n'roll has so consistently (and, to my ears, stupidly) glorified the sound of a wailing guitar played so high up on the neck that there's no room left for the guitarist's fingers. I'll take the robust, thoughtful tremor of the lowest register over screechy wails any day. And check out the countervailing seventh notes that begin appearing at 0:20, floating with offhand precision above the darker sound, the quasi-dissonance of that interval perking the ear up in a most welcome and curious way. This song is pretty great before singer John Paul Pitts--known merely as JP--opens his mouth.
And it gets better. The basic guitar refrain of the introduction becomes the verse melody, with the seventh-note question marks now removed, giving the melody a newly grounded sense of certainty. The harmonies that accompany the melody the second time through (1:00) are subtle and ingenious--the harmony voice is pretty much singing one note--and solidify the melodic construction so firmly that the song never returns to it. It turns out that for all its easy-going tunefulness, "Floating Vibes" is subversive with respect to form: there is no standard chorus and no verse that repeats throughout the song. Rather, there are three different verse melodies, separated by instrumental breaks. The first is the one rooted in the introduction, the second is introduced at an instrumental break at 1:16, and the third (2:35) is a kind of mash-up of the first two. The final instrumental section moves onto yet another melody and features a violin, as unexpected as it is effective.
Surfer Blood is a quintet of non-surfers from West Palm Beach. "Floating Vibes" is the lead track from Astro Coast, the band's debut, slated for released in January on Brooklyn-based Kanine Records. MP3 via Pitchfork.
Free and legal MP3 from Audra Mae (big-voiced singer/songwriter sings with restraint and writes with skill)
"The River" - Audra Mae
With clear roots in country and folk, two very structured genres, "The River" hooks the ear with a series of surprising melodic and harmonic shifts. We hear this first at 0:15, when Mae follows the opening two traditional-sounding lines with a third ("The river's gonna wash my sins away") that runs unexpectedly up through a diminished chord. How did we get here? Suddenly the music is unresolved, and remains so until one more surprising shift, at 0:26, on the words "make me forget." Resolution comes on the succeeding phrase, "my sorrow." That's some nifty songwriting--uncomplicated but subtly startling--and Mae uses it all to set up her bittersweet chorus. It begins with one more musical shift: that heartbreaking half-step she takes in the phrase "I can't swim" (1:02), which starts the major-key chorus with a minor-key twist. Even the lyrics provide a subtle shock here, aurally--when she gets to the phrase "even if I could," the lack of rhyme isn't what the ear expects. But she has slyly shifted the rhyme scheme, which the listener catches onto as the chorus continues. More niftiness.
And maybe niftiest of all is how everything is delivered by a young, big-voiced singer who seems anachronistically delighted to use her vocal substance in service of small musical moments. No "American Idol"-ish histrionics for this big voice. One example: listen to how differently she sings the word "I" the first two times she says it: first, the opening word of the song ("I done a bad thing, it's okay"; 0:05) and second, the beginning of the second line, four seconds later ("I'm going down to the river today"). The first "I" is fast, easy, almost evasive; the second "I," made resonant with the contracted "m," feels deep, mighty, and mournful as it encompasses an extra half-beat in the singing. Words don't do it justice so now I'll be quiet.
"The River" is the lead track from Audra Mae's debut EP, Haunt, released last week on SideOneDummy Records. The Oklahoma-born Mae is now based in L.A. and, speaking of big voices, happens to be Judy Garland's grand niece.
With clear roots in country and folk, two very structured genres, "The River" hooks the ear with a series of surprising melodic and harmonic shifts. We hear this first at 0:15, when Mae follows the opening two traditional-sounding lines with a third ("The river's gonna wash my sins away") that runs unexpectedly up through a diminished chord. How did we get here? Suddenly the music is unresolved, and remains so until one more surprising shift, at 0:26, on the words "make me forget." Resolution comes on the succeeding phrase, "my sorrow." That's some nifty songwriting--uncomplicated but subtly startling--and Mae uses it all to set up her bittersweet chorus. It begins with one more musical shift: that heartbreaking half-step she takes in the phrase "I can't swim" (1:02), which starts the major-key chorus with a minor-key twist. Even the lyrics provide a subtle shock here, aurally--when she gets to the phrase "even if I could," the lack of rhyme isn't what the ear expects. But she has slyly shifted the rhyme scheme, which the listener catches onto as the chorus continues. More niftiness.
And maybe niftiest of all is how everything is delivered by a young, big-voiced singer who seems anachronistically delighted to use her vocal substance in service of small musical moments. No "American Idol"-ish histrionics for this big voice. One example: listen to how differently she sings the word "I" the first two times she says it: first, the opening word of the song ("I done a bad thing, it's okay"; 0:05) and second, the beginning of the second line, four seconds later ("I'm going down to the river today"). The first "I" is fast, easy, almost evasive; the second "I," made resonant with the contracted "m," feels deep, mighty, and mournful as it encompasses an extra half-beat in the singing. Words don't do it justice so now I'll be quiet.
"The River" is the lead track from Audra Mae's debut EP, Haunt, released last week on SideOneDummy Records. The Oklahoma-born Mae is now based in L.A. and, speaking of big voices, happens to be Judy Garland's grand niece.
Free and legal MP3 from Bear in Heaven (indie rock from Brooklyn, at once driven and spacey)
"Lovesick Teenagers" - Bear in Heaven
Can a song be spacey and determined at the same time? "Lovesick Teenagers" seems to manage this unusual effect. Determination is heard through the relentless pulse of the snare-free beat along with front man Jon Philpot's purposeful tenor, which sounds like someone with a wavery voice trying not to waver. And the melody itself seems also to possess an endearing sort of tenaciousness in the way it keeps leaping up a fourth on every syllable it seeks to emphasize.
But the spaciness too comes in various guises. Echoey, rocket-like synthesizers, sure. You'll hear those right away. But it's also there in the synth's ongoing throb, which moves at twice the pace of the drumbeat, and lends a sci-fi-cartoon-iness to the proceedings. The chorus, when it arrives, arrives in a wash of psychedelic effects--soaring synths, fuzzed-up vocals, glitchy accents--even though, if you listen, you'll see that the driving drumbeat persists underneath it all. And look how the song's final moment pretty much encapsulates the underlying aural paradox, being at once the epitome of driving determination--a "sting," as we used to call it in radio (meaning a sharp, abrupt ending)--and moony vagueness, since the sting echoes afterwards with the faintest of synthetic wind sounds.
Bear in Heaven is a quartet of Southerners who landed in Brooklyn and have been recording since 2003. "Lovesick Teenagers" is a song from Beast Rest Forth Mouth, the band's third album, released this month on Hometapes Records.
Can a song be spacey and determined at the same time? "Lovesick Teenagers" seems to manage this unusual effect. Determination is heard through the relentless pulse of the snare-free beat along with front man Jon Philpot's purposeful tenor, which sounds like someone with a wavery voice trying not to waver. And the melody itself seems also to possess an endearing sort of tenaciousness in the way it keeps leaping up a fourth on every syllable it seeks to emphasize.
But the spaciness too comes in various guises. Echoey, rocket-like synthesizers, sure. You'll hear those right away. But it's also there in the synth's ongoing throb, which moves at twice the pace of the drumbeat, and lends a sci-fi-cartoon-iness to the proceedings. The chorus, when it arrives, arrives in a wash of psychedelic effects--soaring synths, fuzzed-up vocals, glitchy accents--even though, if you listen, you'll see that the driving drumbeat persists underneath it all. And look how the song's final moment pretty much encapsulates the underlying aural paradox, being at once the epitome of driving determination--a "sting," as we used to call it in radio (meaning a sharp, abrupt ending)--and moony vagueness, since the sting echoes afterwards with the faintest of synthetic wind sounds.
Bear in Heaven is a quartet of Southerners who landed in Brooklyn and have been recording since 2003. "Lovesick Teenagers" is a song from Beast Rest Forth Mouth, the band's third album, released this month on Hometapes Records.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from Holopaw (pensive, inscrutable indie rock that rewards repeat listens)
"The Art Teacher and the Little Stallion" - Holopaw
Airily idiosyncratic, not to mention lyrically inscrutable, "The Art Teacher and the Little Stallion" required repeated listens for me to really hear it. Songs with vocal (rather than purely instrumental) introductions are a bit hard to get one's pop-oriented mind around, to begin with. And when Holopaw's John Orth is the one doing the vocalizing, maybe it's even harder. He's actually got an engaging, feathery sort of voice, but when it's the very first thing one hears--without the grounding of obvious melody or structure--it seems a challenge, to me.
But here's something to listen for early on: the two notes he sings on the word "breath," at 0:12 (which are E-flat and D-flat, if my keyboard widget is to be trusted). These are soon revealed as the two notes the rest of the song consistently turns on, the two notes which, magnet-like, attract and re-attract the melody--for instance, at the end of the recurring lyric "Couldn't we just get lost?" The musical phrase described by these notes is unresolved, but listen to how the violin follows (e.g. 0:56) with a countermelody that does then resolves it, and with folk-like poignancy. Keep your ear on the violin all the way through; I think the yearning ballast it provides is what lends the song, at least after a number of listens, its quirky majesty.
From Gainesville, Florida, Holopaw was previously featured on Fingertips in August 2005, but are rather a whole different band now: three of its original five members moved north after that second album, replaced slowly but surely by four Gainesville-based others. "The Art Teacher and the Little Stallion" is the first song on the band's Oh, Glory. Oh, Wilderness. album, due out next month on Bakery Outlet Records.
Airily idiosyncratic, not to mention lyrically inscrutable, "The Art Teacher and the Little Stallion" required repeated listens for me to really hear it. Songs with vocal (rather than purely instrumental) introductions are a bit hard to get one's pop-oriented mind around, to begin with. And when Holopaw's John Orth is the one doing the vocalizing, maybe it's even harder. He's actually got an engaging, feathery sort of voice, but when it's the very first thing one hears--without the grounding of obvious melody or structure--it seems a challenge, to me.
But here's something to listen for early on: the two notes he sings on the word "breath," at 0:12 (which are E-flat and D-flat, if my keyboard widget is to be trusted). These are soon revealed as the two notes the rest of the song consistently turns on, the two notes which, magnet-like, attract and re-attract the melody--for instance, at the end of the recurring lyric "Couldn't we just get lost?" The musical phrase described by these notes is unresolved, but listen to how the violin follows (e.g. 0:56) with a countermelody that does then resolves it, and with folk-like poignancy. Keep your ear on the violin all the way through; I think the yearning ballast it provides is what lends the song, at least after a number of listens, its quirky majesty.
From Gainesville, Florida, Holopaw was previously featured on Fingertips in August 2005, but are rather a whole different band now: three of its original five members moved north after that second album, replaced slowly but surely by four Gainesville-based others. "The Art Teacher and the Little Stallion" is the first song on the band's Oh, Glory. Oh, Wilderness. album, due out next month on Bakery Outlet Records.
Free and legal MP3 from Slideshow Freak (swinging glam-ish bedroom rock w/ a dominant chorus)
"Something More" - Slideshow Freak
This song, on the other hand, had me at hello, pretty much. A simple arpeggio, some electro-tinkling, some smooth keyboard vamping, then, boom--"Something More" begins right in its sweet spot, with its full-out, neo-glam-rock chorus. Somehow that's really all it needs. Yes, there are verses in between and surely they kind of have to be there--a song can't be all chorus, can it?--but you'll be hard-pressed afterwards to remember exactly what they sounded like. I'm thinking you'll be equally hard-pressed to dislodge the chorus from your head, not least for the way its swinging, backbeat-driven melody offers up pronouncements as big and dauntless as its sound: "It takes a better man than me/To save a broken heart"; "I spend my life on my back/But never see the stars"; et al.
Slideshow Freak is another one of those "not a band, just a guy" acts made possible by 21st-century technology, musical know-how, and a lot of time on one's hands. The guy this time is one Jamie Wright, who was born and raised in the UK but appears to be living in Florida now. "Something More" is the lead track to the debut Slideshow Freak EP, We Should Swing, which was released in July on Filthy Little Angels Records. Thanks to the typically excellent Low Slung Podcast for the head's up. MP3 via Filthy Little Angels. Note that you can download all six songs from the EP on the FLA site.
This song, on the other hand, had me at hello, pretty much. A simple arpeggio, some electro-tinkling, some smooth keyboard vamping, then, boom--"Something More" begins right in its sweet spot, with its full-out, neo-glam-rock chorus. Somehow that's really all it needs. Yes, there are verses in between and surely they kind of have to be there--a song can't be all chorus, can it?--but you'll be hard-pressed afterwards to remember exactly what they sounded like. I'm thinking you'll be equally hard-pressed to dislodge the chorus from your head, not least for the way its swinging, backbeat-driven melody offers up pronouncements as big and dauntless as its sound: "It takes a better man than me/To save a broken heart"; "I spend my life on my back/But never see the stars"; et al.
Slideshow Freak is another one of those "not a band, just a guy" acts made possible by 21st-century technology, musical know-how, and a lot of time on one's hands. The guy this time is one Jamie Wright, who was born and raised in the UK but appears to be living in Florida now. "Something More" is the lead track to the debut Slideshow Freak EP, We Should Swing, which was released in July on Filthy Little Angels Records. Thanks to the typically excellent Low Slung Podcast for the head's up. MP3 via Filthy Little Angels. Note that you can download all six songs from the EP on the FLA site.
Free and legal MP3 from Headlights (breezy, memorable pop a la NRBQ)
"Get Going" - Headlights
Consciously or not, "Get Going" offers up delightful echoes of a band few may remember, and fewer probably listen to anymore, NRBQ. During their late '70s comeback years, in and around their goofier bar-band numbers, NRBQ let loose a bunch of simultaneously breezy and memorable pop songs a whole lot like this one in tone, vibe, and spirit. The airy charm of Tristan Wraight's tenor further recalls the unexpectedness sweetness infusing gems like "Ridin' In My Car," "I Want You Bad," and "Me and the Boys." Even the title sounds like something the 'Q might have recorded.
But "Get Going" should likewise please the ear of the NRB-clueless. (Sorry; didn't mean that as an insult, just couldn't resist coining that phrase.) Listen to the way the melody in the verses keeps being drawn up: the lyrical lines each ending with an upward third interval, the middle of the line often pivoting on an upward fifth. Pop melodies much more typically lead in a general downward direction, the way water naturally heads towards lower ground. There's something invigorating, if subtly off-kilter, in going against the norm in this way. The other thing I'm enjoying here is the guitar work, which engagingly interweaves an acoustic rhythm, an old-fashioned electric lead, and something unexpectedly drone-like. The way Erin Fein--normally the band's lead vocalist--appears through a kind of underwater filter during the short bridge (1:36) is another whimsical highlight of this brief but emphatic song.
"Get Going" is from Wildlife, the Champaign-based quartet's fourth album, released on Polyvinyl Records earlier this month. The band was previously featured on Fingertips for the wonderful song "Cherry Tulips" in January 2008 . MP3 via Polyvinyl. Another song from Wildlife, "Secrets," is available as a free and legal download via Amazon.
Consciously or not, "Get Going" offers up delightful echoes of a band few may remember, and fewer probably listen to anymore, NRBQ. During their late '70s comeback years, in and around their goofier bar-band numbers, NRBQ let loose a bunch of simultaneously breezy and memorable pop songs a whole lot like this one in tone, vibe, and spirit. The airy charm of Tristan Wraight's tenor further recalls the unexpectedness sweetness infusing gems like "Ridin' In My Car," "I Want You Bad," and "Me and the Boys." Even the title sounds like something the 'Q might have recorded.
But "Get Going" should likewise please the ear of the NRB-clueless. (Sorry; didn't mean that as an insult, just couldn't resist coining that phrase.) Listen to the way the melody in the verses keeps being drawn up: the lyrical lines each ending with an upward third interval, the middle of the line often pivoting on an upward fifth. Pop melodies much more typically lead in a general downward direction, the way water naturally heads towards lower ground. There's something invigorating, if subtly off-kilter, in going against the norm in this way. The other thing I'm enjoying here is the guitar work, which engagingly interweaves an acoustic rhythm, an old-fashioned electric lead, and something unexpectedly drone-like. The way Erin Fein--normally the band's lead vocalist--appears through a kind of underwater filter during the short bridge (1:36) is another whimsical highlight of this brief but emphatic song.
"Get Going" is from Wildlife, the Champaign-based quartet's fourth album, released on Polyvinyl Records earlier this month. The band was previously featured on Fingertips for the wonderful song "Cherry Tulips" in January 2008 . MP3 via Polyvinyl. Another song from Wildlife, "Secrets," is available as a free and legal download via Amazon.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from Old Canes (drum-fueled folk rock w/ vibrant, informal energy)
"Little Bird Courage" - Old Canes
It's unusual for a song that feels like some kind of folk rock to have this much percussive appeal, but "Little Bird Courage" is all about the drumming from the get-go--we pretty much don't even hear anything else until almost 20 seconds in. And this is in fact how Old Canes front man and master mind Chris Crisci envisions his songs--he records the drum tracks first, and builds the songs up from there.
Everything ends up feeling rhythmic and propulsive as a result. With its vibrant but informal energy, spurred by relentlessly strummed acoustic guitars and accentuated by Crisci's mixed-down vocals, "Little Bird Courage" has the vibe of a happier incarnation of Neutral Milk Hotel, an impression accentuated by the homely chorus of trumpets that appears halfway through, just when the whole thing seemed to be grinding to a halt. While it's hard to pick up a lot of the lyrics, I get the impression of something transcendent and triumphant here; the title alone speaks volumes.
Chris Crisci is perhaps better known as a member of the Appleseed Cast, the Lawrence, Kansas-based band usually identified as being a "post-rock" pioneer; Old Canes has been a side project of his dating back to 2004. "Little Bird Courage" is from Feral Harmonic, the second Old Canes album, slated for release next week by Saddle Creek Records.
It's unusual for a song that feels like some kind of folk rock to have this much percussive appeal, but "Little Bird Courage" is all about the drumming from the get-go--we pretty much don't even hear anything else until almost 20 seconds in. And this is in fact how Old Canes front man and master mind Chris Crisci envisions his songs--he records the drum tracks first, and builds the songs up from there.
Everything ends up feeling rhythmic and propulsive as a result. With its vibrant but informal energy, spurred by relentlessly strummed acoustic guitars and accentuated by Crisci's mixed-down vocals, "Little Bird Courage" has the vibe of a happier incarnation of Neutral Milk Hotel, an impression accentuated by the homely chorus of trumpets that appears halfway through, just when the whole thing seemed to be grinding to a halt. While it's hard to pick up a lot of the lyrics, I get the impression of something transcendent and triumphant here; the title alone speaks volumes.
Chris Crisci is perhaps better known as a member of the Appleseed Cast, the Lawrence, Kansas-based band usually identified as being a "post-rock" pioneer; Old Canes has been a side project of his dating back to 2004. "Little Bird Courage" is from Feral Harmonic, the second Old Canes album, slated for release next week by Saddle Creek Records.
Free and legal MP3 from Rainbow Arabia (stylish, engaging world music admixture from LA electronic duo)
"Harlem Sunrise" - Rainbow Arabia
This one morphs before your startled ears from a vaguely Middle Eastern sounding dance with an electro-beat and kitchen sink percussion into a vaguely Caribbean steel-drum-inflected shuffle with some African guitar thrown in for good measure. Too much pastiche for its own good? Or is "Harlem Sunrise," rather, an audacious 21st-century stylistic mash-up? I vote for the latter. Nothing this warm and welcoming can be disparaged, in my book, nor something that manages, for all its sonic salmagundi and home-built vibe, to proceed with an air of the timeless about it. Even singer Tiffany Preston's slightly pouty and distant voice, artfully reverbed and tweaked, works better here than it maybe should.
And I in any case am entirely in favor of major-key songs with minor-key introductions. That's a nice songwriting trick you don't hear much of in modern pop.
Rainbow Arabia--and the band name kind of immediately hints at what they're up to--is a L.A.-based husband-wife duo (Tiffany sings and plays guitar; Danny does the keyboards and electronics). "Harlem Sunrise" is a song from their Kabukimono EP, which was released in July by Manimal Vinyl, also based in L.A. (Manimal Vinyl, by the way, is a name that does not hint at what they're up to; the label does in fact release things on CD and digitally in addition to vinyl.) Thanks to Linda at Speed of Dark for the head's up on this one. MP3 via RCRD LBL, and note that the link is not direct; just click "Download MP3" and it's yours.
This one morphs before your startled ears from a vaguely Middle Eastern sounding dance with an electro-beat and kitchen sink percussion into a vaguely Caribbean steel-drum-inflected shuffle with some African guitar thrown in for good measure. Too much pastiche for its own good? Or is "Harlem Sunrise," rather, an audacious 21st-century stylistic mash-up? I vote for the latter. Nothing this warm and welcoming can be disparaged, in my book, nor something that manages, for all its sonic salmagundi and home-built vibe, to proceed with an air of the timeless about it. Even singer Tiffany Preston's slightly pouty and distant voice, artfully reverbed and tweaked, works better here than it maybe should.
And I in any case am entirely in favor of major-key songs with minor-key introductions. That's a nice songwriting trick you don't hear much of in modern pop.
Rainbow Arabia--and the band name kind of immediately hints at what they're up to--is a L.A.-based husband-wife duo (Tiffany sings and plays guitar; Danny does the keyboards and electronics). "Harlem Sunrise" is a song from their Kabukimono EP, which was released in July by Manimal Vinyl, also based in L.A. (Manimal Vinyl, by the way, is a name that does not hint at what they're up to; the label does in fact release things on CD and digitally in addition to vinyl.) Thanks to Linda at Speed of Dark for the head's up on this one. MP3 via RCRD LBL, and note that the link is not direct; just click "Download MP3" and it's yours.
Free and legal MP3 from Wiretree (power pop with vocal roots in the '70s)
"Back in Town" - Wiretree
Brisk, spangly power pop from an Austin-based quartet. Equal parts mid-career Wilco and early (or late; who can say?) Traveling Wilburys, "Back in Town" is a friendly, xylophone-flecked burst of tunefulness, anchored in singer Kevin Peroni's pliable, evocative voice. What he sounds like, in a nutshell, is the '70s--Harry Nilsson, George Harrison, and Jeff Lynne rolled up into one. Works for me.
And if there are a few relative oldsters out there who recognize the chorus of the Indigo Girls song "Jonas & Ezekiel" in the chorus of "Back in Town," well, I'm always kind of tickled rather than irritated by inadvertent melody transference like this. First off, it's a heck of a good melody--I might dare to call it anthemic except I fear that word has been neutered by years of overuse. Second, the songs don't otherwise have anything to do with each other. I don't mind greeting an old friend in a new outfit.
"Back in Town" is a song from the band's second full-length album, Luck, ready for release next week on their own Cobaltworks label.
Brisk, spangly power pop from an Austin-based quartet. Equal parts mid-career Wilco and early (or late; who can say?) Traveling Wilburys, "Back in Town" is a friendly, xylophone-flecked burst of tunefulness, anchored in singer Kevin Peroni's pliable, evocative voice. What he sounds like, in a nutshell, is the '70s--Harry Nilsson, George Harrison, and Jeff Lynne rolled up into one. Works for me.
And if there are a few relative oldsters out there who recognize the chorus of the Indigo Girls song "Jonas & Ezekiel" in the chorus of "Back in Town," well, I'm always kind of tickled rather than irritated by inadvertent melody transference like this. First off, it's a heck of a good melody--I might dare to call it anthemic except I fear that word has been neutered by years of overuse. Second, the songs don't otherwise have anything to do with each other. I don't mind greeting an old friend in a new outfit.
"Back in Town" is a song from the band's second full-length album, Luck, ready for release next week on their own Cobaltworks label.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
The Fingertips Top 10, currently (with impromptu contest)
The Fingertips Top 10 has turned almost entirely over since the last time I posted it, which was in August; just three songs remain from that list. Anyone interested in an impromptu contest, how about this: the first three people who can each identify one of the three songs that are still on the list from the last top 10 post on the blog can pick a CD for free from the Fingertips Prize Closet. Just because. Leave a comment below, and I'll leave an answering comment corroborating each winner and let you know how to get your prize.
Again, there are three songs that remain from the last top 10 posting. Your job is to identify just one of them. Once someone identifies one of them, he or she is the first winner, and for you to be another winner, you must identify one of the remaining two. Likewise, the last winner will have to identify the remaining one.
Note that all comments are moderated. I'll try to stay on top of them, but it is the weekend, meaning I'm not always at my desk, so there may be some delay between your posting it and it appearing.
Okay, here's the current list. You'll have to look for the last one on your own.
1. "She Comes to Me" - Adam Arcuragi
2. "Gloomy Monday Morning" - the Black Hollies
3. "Madeline, Every Girl" - Cameron McGill & What Army
4. "Turpentine" - Vandaveer
5. "Tammie" - the Dø
6. "Gold and Warm" - Bad Veins
7. "Gold Rush" - Basia Bulat
8. "Turning Into You" - Wheels On Fire
9. "A Bus Called Further" - Heroes of Popular Wars
10. "Hoping and Waiting" - the Hush Now
Good luck to one and all. To find out if you're a winner, I'd suggest waiting till Sunday night or so to check back in.
Again, there are three songs that remain from the last top 10 posting. Your job is to identify just one of them. Once someone identifies one of them, he or she is the first winner, and for you to be another winner, you must identify one of the remaining two. Likewise, the last winner will have to identify the remaining one.
Note that all comments are moderated. I'll try to stay on top of them, but it is the weekend, meaning I'm not always at my desk, so there may be some delay between your posting it and it appearing.
Okay, here's the current list. You'll have to look for the last one on your own.
1. "She Comes to Me" - Adam Arcuragi
2. "Gloomy Monday Morning" - the Black Hollies
3. "Madeline, Every Girl" - Cameron McGill & What Army
4. "Turpentine" - Vandaveer
5. "Tammie" - the Dø
6. "Gold and Warm" - Bad Veins
7. "Gold Rush" - Basia Bulat
8. "Turning Into You" - Wheels On Fire
9. "A Bus Called Further" - Heroes of Popular Wars
10. "Hoping and Waiting" - the Hush Now
Good luck to one and all. To find out if you're a winner, I'd suggest waiting till Sunday night or so to check back in.
Friday, October 09, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from Cameron McGill & What Army (straightforward sound, wonderful song)
"Madeline, Every Girl" - Cameron McGill & What Army
A truly wonderful song from beginning to end. But a funny thing: every time the tempo falters, because of how the song is constructed, I find myself almost annoyed because of how much I was digging the forward-moving energy that's now interrupted. And it happens in the chorus, just when I might be expecting more rather than less motion. But then each time the tempo picks back up with the new verse, I realize that maybe I'm enjoying the faster-paced section precisely because of the repeated way it pulls back. Life is like that too. Oh, and check out how, the second time we hear the chorus, McGill picks up the tempo before the end (2:00). Feels very satisfying somehow. But the third time is the best--he kicks it up for just a moment (3:22), and somehow that's most satisfying of all.
While Cameron McGill & What Army often play music with a definite folk-rock or folk-pop feel, "Madeline, Every Girl" is, in this age of micro-genres, maybe too straightforward for any workable label: it's just guitar and bass and drums playing together without any particular fuss or special flavor. Some songs depend upon their instrumentation and arrangement for their very existence, and other songs, like this one, exist so strongly as things unto themselves that you could probably play them on a toy xylophone and they would still shine through.
Cameron McGill is a Chicago-based singer/songwriter who released an album called Warm Songs for Cold Shoulders, his fourth, back in April on Parasol Records. "Madeline, Every Girl" is the a-side of a three-song digital single released last month called Two Hits and a Miss, which is available via iTunes. MP3 courtesy of Parasol.
A truly wonderful song from beginning to end. But a funny thing: every time the tempo falters, because of how the song is constructed, I find myself almost annoyed because of how much I was digging the forward-moving energy that's now interrupted. And it happens in the chorus, just when I might be expecting more rather than less motion. But then each time the tempo picks back up with the new verse, I realize that maybe I'm enjoying the faster-paced section precisely because of the repeated way it pulls back. Life is like that too. Oh, and check out how, the second time we hear the chorus, McGill picks up the tempo before the end (2:00). Feels very satisfying somehow. But the third time is the best--he kicks it up for just a moment (3:22), and somehow that's most satisfying of all.
While Cameron McGill & What Army often play music with a definite folk-rock or folk-pop feel, "Madeline, Every Girl" is, in this age of micro-genres, maybe too straightforward for any workable label: it's just guitar and bass and drums playing together without any particular fuss or special flavor. Some songs depend upon their instrumentation and arrangement for their very existence, and other songs, like this one, exist so strongly as things unto themselves that you could probably play them on a toy xylophone and they would still shine through.
Cameron McGill is a Chicago-based singer/songwriter who released an album called Warm Songs for Cold Shoulders, his fourth, back in April on Parasol Records. "Madeline, Every Girl" is the a-side of a three-song digital single released last month called Two Hits and a Miss, which is available via iTunes. MP3 courtesy of Parasol.
Free and legal MP3 from the Black Hollies (groovy neo-garage rock)
"Gloomy Monday Morning" - the Black Hollies
A deeply groovy shot of neo-garage rock, "Gloomy Monday Morning" is both steeped in nostalgia and alive with freshly-minted energy. Sure, there's a big-time Animals/Zombies/'60s-Kinks vibe at work here, but it's almost like this New Jersey quartet is using the bygone sound as an instrument they're playing rather than as a straitjacket limiting their buoyancy, if that makes any sense.
The song consistently works at two different, typically contradictory levels. For instance, while blatantly backbeat driven and cymbal heavy, "Gloomy Monday Morning" also employs subtle keyboard accents and a frisky bass line to catch the ear nearly below the level of conscious awareness. Even the backbeat isn't as straightforward as it seems, working with a kind of stutter that both accentuates and deflects the two and four beat accent. Listen, also, to how a simple maneuver--that upward turn of melody that we first hear at 0:49 in the chorus, and then also in the third line of the second verse (1:08)--serves to break the song open. And what's with that cymbal sound? It's so persistent during the chorus and the bridge that it sounds less like an organically played cymbal than a sample played from a keyboard, and is used as a sort of wall-of-sound whitewash at that point more than percussion--a tactic that is, characteristically, somehow, at once heavy-handed and enigmatic. Even the title seemingly contradicts the song's groove.
"Gloomy Monday Morning" is from the band's third full-length album, Softly Towards the Light, which was released this week by the Brooklyn-based Ernest Jenning Record Co. MP3 via EJRC.
A deeply groovy shot of neo-garage rock, "Gloomy Monday Morning" is both steeped in nostalgia and alive with freshly-minted energy. Sure, there's a big-time Animals/Zombies/'60s-Kinks vibe at work here, but it's almost like this New Jersey quartet is using the bygone sound as an instrument they're playing rather than as a straitjacket limiting their buoyancy, if that makes any sense.
The song consistently works at two different, typically contradictory levels. For instance, while blatantly backbeat driven and cymbal heavy, "Gloomy Monday Morning" also employs subtle keyboard accents and a frisky bass line to catch the ear nearly below the level of conscious awareness. Even the backbeat isn't as straightforward as it seems, working with a kind of stutter that both accentuates and deflects the two and four beat accent. Listen, also, to how a simple maneuver--that upward turn of melody that we first hear at 0:49 in the chorus, and then also in the third line of the second verse (1:08)--serves to break the song open. And what's with that cymbal sound? It's so persistent during the chorus and the bridge that it sounds less like an organically played cymbal than a sample played from a keyboard, and is used as a sort of wall-of-sound whitewash at that point more than percussion--a tactic that is, characteristically, somehow, at once heavy-handed and enigmatic. Even the title seemingly contradicts the song's groove.
"Gloomy Monday Morning" is from the band's third full-length album, Softly Towards the Light, which was released this week by the Brooklyn-based Ernest Jenning Record Co. MP3 via EJRC.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from Morningbell (spoke-sung verses, body-shaking rhythms, appealing vibe)
"Marching Off To War" - Morningbell
Equal parts character and commitment, "Marching Off To War" props itself on top of some seriously good-natured drumming and never looks back. The verses--all two of them--involve some smiley, spoke-sung lyrics that serve as gatekeepers to the body-shaking rhythmic attack of the chorus, in which singer/guitarist Travis Atria wails the repeated line "Marching off to war" in full Perry Farrell mode. Is there a disconnect here between the jolly sounds and the somber words? I'm guessing that's the point. Note the way the chorus ends with a line that comes across as a throwaway--"I don't care what you say anymore"--but may indeed be the fulcrum of the song.
Because that's exactly what happens when human beings are rallied to act against their own better natures: they must be jollied up to the point where they don't want to know there's another way to look at the situation. Don't bother me, I'm marching off to war. My head's full of happy nonsense. Whatever the latest war is. (The war against health care reform will do.) "I don't care what you think anymore," is how the line goes later in the song.
Named after the Radiohead song (and why not; Radiohead too made a one-word name for themselves from another band's two-word song title), Morningbell is a quartet from Gainesville. Travis's brother Eric plays bass (and, Radiohead-ishly, theremin), and Eric's wife Stacie plays keys. (The exhilarating drummer, not related, is named Chris Hillman, of all things.) The band was previously featured here in May 2007. "Marching Off To War" will be found on their fourth and forthcoming album, Sincerely, Severely, slated for release on the band's own non-profit label, Orange Records, in December.
Equal parts character and commitment, "Marching Off To War" props itself on top of some seriously good-natured drumming and never looks back. The verses--all two of them--involve some smiley, spoke-sung lyrics that serve as gatekeepers to the body-shaking rhythmic attack of the chorus, in which singer/guitarist Travis Atria wails the repeated line "Marching off to war" in full Perry Farrell mode. Is there a disconnect here between the jolly sounds and the somber words? I'm guessing that's the point. Note the way the chorus ends with a line that comes across as a throwaway--"I don't care what you say anymore"--but may indeed be the fulcrum of the song.
Because that's exactly what happens when human beings are rallied to act against their own better natures: they must be jollied up to the point where they don't want to know there's another way to look at the situation. Don't bother me, I'm marching off to war. My head's full of happy nonsense. Whatever the latest war is. (The war against health care reform will do.) "I don't care what you think anymore," is how the line goes later in the song.
Named after the Radiohead song (and why not; Radiohead too made a one-word name for themselves from another band's two-word song title), Morningbell is a quartet from Gainesville. Travis's brother Eric plays bass (and, Radiohead-ishly, theremin), and Eric's wife Stacie plays keys. (The exhilarating drummer, not related, is named Chris Hillman, of all things.) The band was previously featured here in May 2007. "Marching Off To War" will be found on their fourth and forthcoming album, Sincerely, Severely, slated for release on the band's own non-profit label, Orange Records, in December.
Free and legal MP3 from Spider (quiet, simmering music from Fingertips returnee)
"Petal Song" - Spider
This may not sound at first like a song that's going to kick out with a minute-long Pink Floydian guitar solo, but how often, actually, are things exactly what they seem? (cf. "Things are not as they seem. Nor are they otherwise," as per the Buddha.)
"Petal Song" may well begin quietly but there's something simmering from the outset--most notably Jane Herships (aka Spider) herself. Some vocalists with quavering voices sing like it's all they can do to make an audible sound, the quavering in this case being a sign of near exhaustion. The quaver in Herships' voice, by contrast, has the feeling of someone holding back something mighty. She shakes from the effort of keeping contained. In that context, the electric outburst at the end is maybe even inevitable. Before you get there, however, be sure to sink into the subtly gorgeous melodies Herships has crafted along the way--in both the matter-of-fact verse and the swaying chorus--and the engaging, shifting ways she sings them.
"The Petal Song" is from Things We Liked To Hold, Spider's new, self-released CD. MP3 via Last.fm, where you can listen to the whole thing, and also download four other free and legal MP3s. Spider by the way was previously featured on Fingertips in 2006, and was also one of the stars of the late, lamented Fingertips: Unwebbed CD.
This may not sound at first like a song that's going to kick out with a minute-long Pink Floydian guitar solo, but how often, actually, are things exactly what they seem? (cf. "Things are not as they seem. Nor are they otherwise," as per the Buddha.)
"Petal Song" may well begin quietly but there's something simmering from the outset--most notably Jane Herships (aka Spider) herself. Some vocalists with quavering voices sing like it's all they can do to make an audible sound, the quavering in this case being a sign of near exhaustion. The quaver in Herships' voice, by contrast, has the feeling of someone holding back something mighty. She shakes from the effort of keeping contained. In that context, the electric outburst at the end is maybe even inevitable. Before you get there, however, be sure to sink into the subtly gorgeous melodies Herships has crafted along the way--in both the matter-of-fact verse and the swaying chorus--and the engaging, shifting ways she sings them.
"The Petal Song" is from Things We Liked To Hold, Spider's new, self-released CD. MP3 via Last.fm, where you can listen to the whole thing, and also download four other free and legal MP3s. Spider by the way was previously featured on Fingertips in 2006, and was also one of the stars of the late, lamented Fingertips: Unwebbed CD.
Free and legal MP3 from Sea Wolf (agile, subtly orchestrated indie rock, propelled by nouns)
"Wicked Blood" - Sea Wolf
A dreamy wash of tingly synthesizers leads us into an agile, subtly orchestrated tune with a mixed-down piano vamp (itself intriguing; mostly when someone is pounding a piano, it's just about all you can hear) and a hint of portentousness. When Alex Brown Church starts singing (and hm, we have two solo performers this week who record using an animal name), that sense of something impending, even prophetic, in the air is further accentuated both by his slightly husky but resonant baritone--it is a voice ready to pronounce something--and by the elusive stream of words he sings. The words resist a narrative throughline but are full of concrete images: veils and curls and mountains and chandeliers and waterfalls and such. Ever since Dylan went electric, this has been a surefire way to sow intrigue and anticipation in a pop song: give us lots of good nouns. We don't know how that ember got in those rafters, or where the rafters even are, but we emotionally respond to the threat.
Church first gained indie notice as a member of the LA band Irving, which formed back in 1998. As he began writing songs that didn't seem like Irving songs, he started performing on his own, as Sea Wolf, in 2003. (So you know, Irving has spawned at least one other side project--Afternoons, who were featured here last year; Irving itself is on hiatus at this point.) "Wicked Blood" is the lead track off White Water, White Bloom, the second Sea Wolf album, which came out last week on Dangerbird Records. MP3 via the good folks at Better Propaganda.
A dreamy wash of tingly synthesizers leads us into an agile, subtly orchestrated tune with a mixed-down piano vamp (itself intriguing; mostly when someone is pounding a piano, it's just about all you can hear) and a hint of portentousness. When Alex Brown Church starts singing (and hm, we have two solo performers this week who record using an animal name), that sense of something impending, even prophetic, in the air is further accentuated both by his slightly husky but resonant baritone--it is a voice ready to pronounce something--and by the elusive stream of words he sings. The words resist a narrative throughline but are full of concrete images: veils and curls and mountains and chandeliers and waterfalls and such. Ever since Dylan went electric, this has been a surefire way to sow intrigue and anticipation in a pop song: give us lots of good nouns. We don't know how that ember got in those rafters, or where the rafters even are, but we emotionally respond to the threat.
Church first gained indie notice as a member of the LA band Irving, which formed back in 1998. As he began writing songs that didn't seem like Irving songs, he started performing on his own, as Sea Wolf, in 2003. (So you know, Irving has spawned at least one other side project--Afternoons, who were featured here last year; Irving itself is on hiatus at this point.) "Wicked Blood" is the lead track off White Water, White Bloom, the second Sea Wolf album, which came out last week on Dangerbird Records. MP3 via the good folks at Better Propaganda.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from Basia Bulat (charming shot of rustic exuberance)
"Gold Rush" - Basia Bulat
Eager youth and venerable tradition is a compelling combination, and a perpetual argument against sourpusses who rise with foolish predictability, in every generation, to proclaim that good music ended at some lamented moment in the receding past. Good music never stops arriving; good listening frequently grinds to a halt, however.
"Gold Rush" is a particularly charming amalgam of the old and the new. The old registers in the exuberant, rustic vibe embodied by a stringed managerie that includes fiddles and Bulat's signature autoharp; the new is all in the song's energy: in Bulat's freewheeling vocals, in the galloping percussion, and maybe best of all in her innate sense of drama. This young Canadian knows just when to pull back and when to let loose--listen to how well, for instance, the song's rollicking momentum is set up by the opening section, with its deliberate series of staccato fiddle chords; check out, also, how she clears space for those out-of-the-blue but abruptly perfect harmony vocals in the bridge (1:42). And she wraps up this spirited rollercoaster ride in a nifty three and a half minutes.
"Gold Rush" is the first song made available from Bulat's upcoming Heart Of My Own, her second album, scheduled for release in January on Rough Trade/Beggars. MP3 via the Beggars Group.
Eager youth and venerable tradition is a compelling combination, and a perpetual argument against sourpusses who rise with foolish predictability, in every generation, to proclaim that good music ended at some lamented moment in the receding past. Good music never stops arriving; good listening frequently grinds to a halt, however.
"Gold Rush" is a particularly charming amalgam of the old and the new. The old registers in the exuberant, rustic vibe embodied by a stringed managerie that includes fiddles and Bulat's signature autoharp; the new is all in the song's energy: in Bulat's freewheeling vocals, in the galloping percussion, and maybe best of all in her innate sense of drama. This young Canadian knows just when to pull back and when to let loose--listen to how well, for instance, the song's rollicking momentum is set up by the opening section, with its deliberate series of staccato fiddle chords; check out, also, how she clears space for those out-of-the-blue but abruptly perfect harmony vocals in the bridge (1:42). And she wraps up this spirited rollercoaster ride in a nifty three and a half minutes.
"Gold Rush" is the first song made available from Bulat's upcoming Heart Of My Own, her second album, scheduled for release in January on Rough Trade/Beggars. MP3 via the Beggars Group.
Free and legal MP3 from Land of Talk (powerful return of Fingertips fave)
"May You Never" - Land of Talk
Another song with an introduction that's sparser and slower than the song it introduces, "May You Never" starts with spacey/chimey sounds, a semi-pentatonic piano riff, and some ultra echoey vocals from smudgy-voiced Lizzie Powell over a doleful kettle drum. It sounds all indie-mystical, but at 0:51 the beat kicks in, and the guitar grabs the piano's motif so effectively that you see you've been set up all along. The song is sharp and powerful, and driven by Powell's mysterious way with a melodic refrain.
This is Land of Talk's third time on Fingertips, and it is apparently impossible for me to talk about them without mentioning Powell's crazy-delicious guitar playing, so here I am again, telling you not only to tune in for the short but sizzling solo (at 2:00) but to keep your ears on what she's up to in and around the rest of the song, including how she starts the coda with a literal bang (3:30) and ends it (if you listen carefully) with an echo of the song's very first notes.
"May You Never" will be one of four tracks on the band's forthcoming Fun and Laughter EP, slated to arrive next month via Saddle Creek. The band is meager with bio info, so I'm not sure how many people are playing with Powell at this point; the bigger news in any case is that she appears to be fully recovered from vocal cord surgery in January that sidelined her just when the band was geared up to promote their last CD. MP3 courtesy of Saddle Creek.
Another song with an introduction that's sparser and slower than the song it introduces, "May You Never" starts with spacey/chimey sounds, a semi-pentatonic piano riff, and some ultra echoey vocals from smudgy-voiced Lizzie Powell over a doleful kettle drum. It sounds all indie-mystical, but at 0:51 the beat kicks in, and the guitar grabs the piano's motif so effectively that you see you've been set up all along. The song is sharp and powerful, and driven by Powell's mysterious way with a melodic refrain.
This is Land of Talk's third time on Fingertips, and it is apparently impossible for me to talk about them without mentioning Powell's crazy-delicious guitar playing, so here I am again, telling you not only to tune in for the short but sizzling solo (at 2:00) but to keep your ears on what she's up to in and around the rest of the song, including how she starts the coda with a literal bang (3:30) and ends it (if you listen carefully) with an echo of the song's very first notes.
"May You Never" will be one of four tracks on the band's forthcoming Fun and Laughter EP, slated to arrive next month via Saddle Creek. The band is meager with bio info, so I'm not sure how many people are playing with Powell at this point; the bigger news in any case is that she appears to be fully recovered from vocal cord surgery in January that sidelined her just when the band was geared up to promote their last CD. MP3 courtesy of Saddle Creek.
Free and legal MP3 from Buffalo Killers (indie rock w/ classic rock aura)
"Huma Bird" - Buffalo Killers
Any 21st-century indie band that can this successfully channel their inner Joe Walsh is a friend of mine. Not that I'm a particular Joe Walsh fan; it's more the principal of the thing. This is not a sound I expect to come out of my MP3 player in the year 2009. It's a simple, grounded sound, a midtempo loper with a light acoustic rhythm at the front of the mix, sometimes messing playfully with the beat, with a heavy bass line underneath and a resonant electric guitar that interjects kind of whenever you've forgotten there's an electric guitar hanging around.
And then there's no avoiding that voice. This Cincinnati trio features brothers Andrew and Zachary Gabbard on lead guitar and bass, respectively, and both sing, so I'm not sure who is who here, but whoever is offering up that achy, upward-straining, and yet decidedly masculine tenor is paying uncanny homage to James Gang-era Walsh. But this is no lifeless imitation; "Huma Bird," while completely relaxed, manages to soar with confidence and verve. Only fitting, as a huma bird, by the way, is a mythological creature, from a Sufi fable, which was said to live stratospherically high above the earth and never in its life touch the ground or even a tree. The bird laid its egg from so high up that the baby could grow inside, peck its way out, and manage to learn to use its wings just before the egg smashed to the ground. Some might find a metaphor in this. (Weird side note, not necessarily metaphorical: the song starts fading, for no apparent reason, 50 seconds before its official ending, and leaves us with a good 12 seconds of complete silence.)
"Huma Bird" is a new song, not yet on an album. The band's last CD was Let It Ride, which came out in July 2008 on Alive Records. MP3 via the band's site. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the lead.
Any 21st-century indie band that can this successfully channel their inner Joe Walsh is a friend of mine. Not that I'm a particular Joe Walsh fan; it's more the principal of the thing. This is not a sound I expect to come out of my MP3 player in the year 2009. It's a simple, grounded sound, a midtempo loper with a light acoustic rhythm at the front of the mix, sometimes messing playfully with the beat, with a heavy bass line underneath and a resonant electric guitar that interjects kind of whenever you've forgotten there's an electric guitar hanging around.
And then there's no avoiding that voice. This Cincinnati trio features brothers Andrew and Zachary Gabbard on lead guitar and bass, respectively, and both sing, so I'm not sure who is who here, but whoever is offering up that achy, upward-straining, and yet decidedly masculine tenor is paying uncanny homage to James Gang-era Walsh. But this is no lifeless imitation; "Huma Bird," while completely relaxed, manages to soar with confidence and verve. Only fitting, as a huma bird, by the way, is a mythological creature, from a Sufi fable, which was said to live stratospherically high above the earth and never in its life touch the ground or even a tree. The bird laid its egg from so high up that the baby could grow inside, peck its way out, and manage to learn to use its wings just before the egg smashed to the ground. Some might find a metaphor in this. (Weird side note, not necessarily metaphorical: the song starts fading, for no apparent reason, 50 seconds before its official ending, and leaves us with a good 12 seconds of complete silence.)
"Huma Bird" is a new song, not yet on an album. The band's last CD was Let It Ride, which came out in July 2008 on Alive Records. MP3 via the band's site. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the lead.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from Wildbirds & Peacedrums (quirky but affecting vocal-percussion performance)
"My Heart" - Wildbirds & Peacedrums
For a voice and percussion duo, Mariam Wallentin and Andreas Werliin create music with great texture and charm. It's still pretty idiosyncratic--okay, very idiosyncratic--but you don't listen to "My Heart" and think, "Geez, where are all the real instruments?" because Werliin does a beautiful, canny job finding not just beats but notes and motifs in a variety of things that are struck with a stick or a mallet. Wallentin in fact sounds like she's being accompanied by a small, quizzical orchestra, not just a drummer.
The song's many and varied structural and compositional and artistic quirks may well be why a listener's ear is distracted from the basic instrumental peculiarity at the core of the duo's sound. There's the stop-start-y melody (I dare you to sing along for very long); the shifting rhythmic foundation (the same melody happens over drastically different percussive backgrounds at different points in the song); the art-song-meets-pop-song sense of development (note for example that odd, extended interstitial moment--beginning at 0:49--of being neither in verse nor chorus); and, payoff, the unexpected but brilliant choral finish.
"My Heart" is a song from The Snake, the band's second album, which came out in Sweden in 2008 and was released earlier this year in the UK on the Leaf Label, and finally also in the US last month by the Control Group. MP3 via NME.
For a voice and percussion duo, Mariam Wallentin and Andreas Werliin create music with great texture and charm. It's still pretty idiosyncratic--okay, very idiosyncratic--but you don't listen to "My Heart" and think, "Geez, where are all the real instruments?" because Werliin does a beautiful, canny job finding not just beats but notes and motifs in a variety of things that are struck with a stick or a mallet. Wallentin in fact sounds like she's being accompanied by a small, quizzical orchestra, not just a drummer.
The song's many and varied structural and compositional and artistic quirks may well be why a listener's ear is distracted from the basic instrumental peculiarity at the core of the duo's sound. There's the stop-start-y melody (I dare you to sing along for very long); the shifting rhythmic foundation (the same melody happens over drastically different percussive backgrounds at different points in the song); the art-song-meets-pop-song sense of development (note for example that odd, extended interstitial moment--beginning at 0:49--of being neither in verse nor chorus); and, payoff, the unexpected but brilliant choral finish.
"My Heart" is a song from The Snake, the band's second album, which came out in Sweden in 2008 and was released earlier this year in the UK on the Leaf Label, and finally also in the US last month by the Control Group. MP3 via NME.
Free and legal MP3 from Los Campesinos! (large-scale, dynamic indie rock w/ drama & sensitivity)
"The Sea Is A Good Place To Think Of The Future" - Los Campesinos!
Like the rare actor who can pull off comedy and drama with equal aplomb (I'm looking at you, Meryl Streep), the Cardiff septet Los Campesinos! herein announce that they are capable of steering their large-scale, unfettered, exclamation-pointed sound in the direction of serious fare just as knowingly as they have engaged in good-natured mayhem (see "You! Me! Dancing!," This Week's Finds, February 2007).
In both cases they utilize the full dynamic range of music--soft to loud, uncluttered to cluttered, solo vocals and gang singing--and an inventive sense of drama and production. This time around the band produces an almost industrial racket in service of the somber, subtly seafaring mood, and yet it's also somewhere within that noisier-than-you-realize ambiance (check out that odd, squawking sound that punctuates the rhythm at the outset of the second verse, for instance) that something redemptive emerges. Sad, but redemptive. Maybe. The lyrics seem to have to do with the singer trying to make sense of a troubled woman he probably loves. The song isn't fun but it's powerful, and all but demands repeated listens for full effect.
"The Sea Is A Good Place To Think Of The Future" is a song from the band's forthcoming CD, We Are Beautiful, We Are Damned, set for an October release on Witchita Recordings.
Like the rare actor who can pull off comedy and drama with equal aplomb (I'm looking at you, Meryl Streep), the Cardiff septet Los Campesinos! herein announce that they are capable of steering their large-scale, unfettered, exclamation-pointed sound in the direction of serious fare just as knowingly as they have engaged in good-natured mayhem (see "You! Me! Dancing!," This Week's Finds, February 2007).
In both cases they utilize the full dynamic range of music--soft to loud, uncluttered to cluttered, solo vocals and gang singing--and an inventive sense of drama and production. This time around the band produces an almost industrial racket in service of the somber, subtly seafaring mood, and yet it's also somewhere within that noisier-than-you-realize ambiance (check out that odd, squawking sound that punctuates the rhythm at the outset of the second verse, for instance) that something redemptive emerges. Sad, but redemptive. Maybe. The lyrics seem to have to do with the singer trying to make sense of a troubled woman he probably loves. The song isn't fun but it's powerful, and all but demands repeated listens for full effect.
"The Sea Is A Good Place To Think Of The Future" is a song from the band's forthcoming CD, We Are Beautiful, We Are Damned, set for an October release on Witchita Recordings.
Free and legal MP3 from Secondstar (meditative, wistful, harmony-laced)
"Tied to the Mast" - Secondstar
Meditative, wistful, harmony-laced, and lacking any introduction whatsoever, "Tied to the Mast" (sea theme continues, inadvertently) envelops us instantly in its welcoming vocal layers. While reminiscent, clearly, of the sorts of harmonizing that Fleet Foxes abruptly brought back to rock'n'roll last year, what you'll hear here has a smaller-scale and less architected feeling. Liam Carey, the Brooklyn-based driving force behind Secondstar, uses an accumulation of fragile vocal tracks to create something decidedly unfragile, anchoring it all on a simple acoustic rhythm guitar and some oceanic percussion, nicely evocative of the "ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea," to quote a landmark poem that comes to mind as I'm listening to this. The guitar, by the way, may be uncomplicated but the chords are so hospitable, the sound so warm and plush that I am newly reminded that complication isn't everything.
"Tied to the Mast" is one of five songs on Secondstar's Teeth EP, self-released this summer. A follow-up EP is due some time this fall, says Carey. Note that the link is via Bandcamp, and is not direct. Follow instructions from the link above and you'll have the MP3 in no time.
Meditative, wistful, harmony-laced, and lacking any introduction whatsoever, "Tied to the Mast" (sea theme continues, inadvertently) envelops us instantly in its welcoming vocal layers. While reminiscent, clearly, of the sorts of harmonizing that Fleet Foxes abruptly brought back to rock'n'roll last year, what you'll hear here has a smaller-scale and less architected feeling. Liam Carey, the Brooklyn-based driving force behind Secondstar, uses an accumulation of fragile vocal tracks to create something decidedly unfragile, anchoring it all on a simple acoustic rhythm guitar and some oceanic percussion, nicely evocative of the "ever-hooded, tragic-gestured sea," to quote a landmark poem that comes to mind as I'm listening to this. The guitar, by the way, may be uncomplicated but the chords are so hospitable, the sound so warm and plush that I am newly reminded that complication isn't everything.
"Tied to the Mast" is one of five songs on Secondstar's Teeth EP, self-released this summer. A follow-up EP is due some time this fall, says Carey. Note that the link is via Bandcamp, and is not direct. Follow instructions from the link above and you'll have the MP3 in no time.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
New Fingertips Contest: win three new Radiohead expanded CDs
So I'm not a huge fan of expanded CDs, repackaged stuff designed, it seems, all to often, simply to get you to spend more money on something you've already spent money on.Then again, this is Radiohead. So on the one hand we should be even more suspicious of the record company's motives (this is their former record company, after all), but on the other hand, all the new material is going to be decidedly worth having. We're starting with three superb albums--Kid A, Amnesiac, and Hail to the Thief (don't believe the doubters on this one; it's mighty good)--and now each of them gets an extra disc of live recordings and other so-called "rarities," and if you win here then it's not going to cost you anything. A no brainer, right?
To find out how to enter, go to the Contests page on the main Fingertips site. Deadline for entry is Friday September 25.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from Orenda Fink (evocative and folk-ish, w/ mandolin & more)
"High Ground" - Orenda Fink
Orenda Fink returns, not long after her technologically experimental O+S project, with a solo record that grounds her firmly back in a world of acoustic instruments and evocative songwriting. "High Ground," with its minor key orientation, purposeful picking (both mandolin and banjo, from the sound of it), and group vocals, unfolds with the offhand seriousness of a back-country folk song. The title, and the central metaphor therein, implies both threat and survival; Fink's lovely, careful singing voice, is, by song's end, all but swallowed by the vocal wave around her, but she keeps singing, and doesn't raise her voice. And we still hear her, all the more so because we have to try.
"High Ground" is a track from Fink's forthcoming album, Ask the Night, to be released next month on Saddle Creek Records. And the ever-active, prolific Fink has also been playing with Maria Taylor as Azure Ray again this summer; the word is that a new Azure Ray album is in the works for next year.
Orenda Fink returns, not long after her technologically experimental O+S project, with a solo record that grounds her firmly back in a world of acoustic instruments and evocative songwriting. "High Ground," with its minor key orientation, purposeful picking (both mandolin and banjo, from the sound of it), and group vocals, unfolds with the offhand seriousness of a back-country folk song. The title, and the central metaphor therein, implies both threat and survival; Fink's lovely, careful singing voice, is, by song's end, all but swallowed by the vocal wave around her, but she keeps singing, and doesn't raise her voice. And we still hear her, all the more so because we have to try.
"High Ground" is a track from Fink's forthcoming album, Ask the Night, to be released next month on Saddle Creek Records. And the ever-active, prolific Fink has also been playing with Maria Taylor as Azure Ray again this summer; the word is that a new Azure Ray album is in the works for next year.
Free and legal MP3 from Pugwash (Beatlesque and XTC-like catchiness, signed by A. Partridge's label)
"Apples" - Pugwash
Here on 9/9/09, with big marketing news regarding both the Beatles and Apple Computer in the air, how can I resist a Beatlesque/XTC-like piece of pop entitled "Apples"? Resistance, clearly, is futile. I love in fact how the XTC-isms and Beatle-isms here are so consistently interdependent as to be inextricable. Because let me interrupt here to note that XTC remains, to this day, the great, largely unacknowledged link between the Fab Four and the entire alternative/indie rock explosion of the last two-plus decades; they were the one band that took what the Beatles did and alchemized it into something truly their own. I'll go as far as to suggest that they gave us a hint of what the Beatles themselves might have come to sound like had they stayed together a bit longer.
And so: that cheery little ascending motif at the end of the first two verse lines (first heard at 0:12)? Nicely, intertwiningly related to both great British bands. Likewise the effortless weaving of guitar effects, string-like effects, and vocal effects in such a sharp and focused pop song. Note too how Irishman Thomas Walsh tends towards a Lennon-ish timbre but phrases his words in quite the Andy Partridge-like manner. (And isn't Pugwash itself a sort of XTC-ish word?) The coda-like touches near the end--this song has a definite ending, it doesn't just stop--is further evidence, if required, of both seminal influences.
And now it turns out that Pugwash--which pretty much is Walsh, plus some friends and guests who help him out when he records--has been signed to Partridge's own Ape Records, which is why we're hearing "Apples" now, although originally released in 2002. Ape is first releasing a compilation of the best songs from the band's four existing albums. "Apples" is the lead track on that album, entitled Giddy, which will be out later this month.
Here on 9/9/09, with big marketing news regarding both the Beatles and Apple Computer in the air, how can I resist a Beatlesque/XTC-like piece of pop entitled "Apples"? Resistance, clearly, is futile. I love in fact how the XTC-isms and Beatle-isms here are so consistently interdependent as to be inextricable. Because let me interrupt here to note that XTC remains, to this day, the great, largely unacknowledged link between the Fab Four and the entire alternative/indie rock explosion of the last two-plus decades; they were the one band that took what the Beatles did and alchemized it into something truly their own. I'll go as far as to suggest that they gave us a hint of what the Beatles themselves might have come to sound like had they stayed together a bit longer.
And so: that cheery little ascending motif at the end of the first two verse lines (first heard at 0:12)? Nicely, intertwiningly related to both great British bands. Likewise the effortless weaving of guitar effects, string-like effects, and vocal effects in such a sharp and focused pop song. Note too how Irishman Thomas Walsh tends towards a Lennon-ish timbre but phrases his words in quite the Andy Partridge-like manner. (And isn't Pugwash itself a sort of XTC-ish word?) The coda-like touches near the end--this song has a definite ending, it doesn't just stop--is further evidence, if required, of both seminal influences.
And now it turns out that Pugwash--which pretty much is Walsh, plus some friends and guests who help him out when he records--has been signed to Partridge's own Ape Records, which is why we're hearing "Apples" now, although originally released in 2002. Ape is first releasing a compilation of the best songs from the band's four existing albums. "Apples" is the lead track on that album, entitled Giddy, which will be out later this month.
Friday, September 04, 2009
September Q&A: Andrew Spencer Goldman, of Fulton Lights
Every month, the Fingertips Q&A sends five questions about the state of music in the digital age to one actual, working musician. Way too much time and space is taken up online by pundits, writers, and other sorts of talking (writing) heads who think they know where the music industry is headed. I'd much rather hear the thoughts and feelings of the people creating and performing the actual music.This month, Andrew Spencer Goldman, who is the mastermind and driving force behind the Brooklyn-based Fulton Lights, answers the five questions. Fulton Lights has been featured twice to date on Fingertips, in February 2007 and September 2008. Fulton Lights has a brand new EP entitled Healing Waters, which you can listen to and find out more about on the Fulton Lights Facebook page.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Fitter Happier
For those keeping score at home, note some changes to the main Fingertips site. In the interest of trimming things down, many features have been eliminated.
Moving forward, Fingertips will concentrate exclusively on This Week's Finds, the Top 10 list, the Q&A, and the Commentary essays. Assorted directories oriented towards sourcing free and legal MP3s have been taken out.
The Fingertips Twitter feed remains--you can see it to the right here, or go directly to Twitter. This has turned into a valuable, ongoing source of links related to free and legal MP3s and the general future of the music industry.
Moving forward, Fingertips will concentrate exclusively on This Week's Finds, the Top 10 list, the Q&A, and the Commentary essays. Assorted directories oriented towards sourcing free and legal MP3s have been taken out.
The Fingertips Twitter feed remains--you can see it to the right here, or go directly to Twitter. This has turned into a valuable, ongoing source of links related to free and legal MP3s and the general future of the music industry.
Free and legal MP3 from Vandaveer (old-timey acoustic shuffle w/ sharp vocal performances)
"Turpentine" - Vandaveer
An almost hypnotic, quiet-but-intense number that seems perfect for a late afternoon on a late summer day. Featuring pretty much all acoustic instruments and shuffling along on the frame of a gentle, forward-moving keyboard riff, "Turpentine" has an old-timey flair but a sharp present-day vibe. (And it fades in; you don't hear many songs fade in.)
The singing performances bring this one to particular life, both the craggy, soulful lead effort by Mark Charles Heidinger and the beautifully attuned, vibrato-laced harmonies offered by Heidinger's sister, Rose Guerin. Heidinger sounds as if he's singing on your old vinyl turntable, Guerin as if she never opens her eyes while making unconsciously portentous arm gestures. Towards the beginning of the song, she picks and chooses where to inject her fierce accompaniment; when she at long last stays on stage with him for one last verse in this chorus-free song, redemption feels close at hand.
"Turpentine" can be found on Divide and Conquer, Vandaveer's second album, released last week on Supply & Demand Records. Vandaveer is the name the Washington, D.C.-based Heidinger uses for performance; it's a family name that he found on the back of a watch passed down to him on his father's side.
An almost hypnotic, quiet-but-intense number that seems perfect for a late afternoon on a late summer day. Featuring pretty much all acoustic instruments and shuffling along on the frame of a gentle, forward-moving keyboard riff, "Turpentine" has an old-timey flair but a sharp present-day vibe. (And it fades in; you don't hear many songs fade in.)
The singing performances bring this one to particular life, both the craggy, soulful lead effort by Mark Charles Heidinger and the beautifully attuned, vibrato-laced harmonies offered by Heidinger's sister, Rose Guerin. Heidinger sounds as if he's singing on your old vinyl turntable, Guerin as if she never opens her eyes while making unconsciously portentous arm gestures. Towards the beginning of the song, she picks and chooses where to inject her fierce accompaniment; when she at long last stays on stage with him for one last verse in this chorus-free song, redemption feels close at hand.
"Turpentine" can be found on Divide and Conquer, Vandaveer's second album, released last week on Supply & Demand Records. Vandaveer is the name the Washington, D.C.-based Heidinger uses for performance; it's a family name that he found on the back of a watch passed down to him on his father's side.
Free and legal MP3 from the Hush Now (subtly contagious neo-power pop)
"Hoping and Waiting" - the Hush Now
After a church-like organ intro, "Hoping and Waiting" turns upbeat and unexpectedly contagious. I had to live with it a while for the catchiness to sink in, however; it's not a completely obvious hook. But after listening to it on and off for a few weeks, I noticed that it was beginning to pop unbidden into my head. This is almost always a sign of a song that I am liking more than I initially realize I'm liking it.
The part that kept popping into my head: that particular place in the chorus where the melody takes a leap up on the word "heart" (first heard around 1:19). Talk about uplifting--just hearing that word sung with that upward leap settles something in my soul. And then the immediate follow-up, the word "anticipating" sung (on the second syllable) with that same up-leap. Brilliant. As for the operatic tenor interlude (2:42), it shouldn't really work, but it does, precisely when (and because) the tenor ramps up into a classical frenzy concurrently with singer Noel Kelly repeating the lines "Did you feel? Did you feel? Did you feel?" Also brilliant. And then suddenly a trumpet that had been lurking in the background materializes front and center, adding the feeling of an offbeat fanfare to the closing measures. I like it.
The Hush Now is a quartet from Boston. "Hoping and Waiting" will appear on their second album, Constellations, due out as a self-release in October. (If you're interested, the band started giving its self-titled debut album away for free online earlier this year; you can still grab it here.)
After a church-like organ intro, "Hoping and Waiting" turns upbeat and unexpectedly contagious. I had to live with it a while for the catchiness to sink in, however; it's not a completely obvious hook. But after listening to it on and off for a few weeks, I noticed that it was beginning to pop unbidden into my head. This is almost always a sign of a song that I am liking more than I initially realize I'm liking it.
The part that kept popping into my head: that particular place in the chorus where the melody takes a leap up on the word "heart" (first heard around 1:19). Talk about uplifting--just hearing that word sung with that upward leap settles something in my soul. And then the immediate follow-up, the word "anticipating" sung (on the second syllable) with that same up-leap. Brilliant. As for the operatic tenor interlude (2:42), it shouldn't really work, but it does, precisely when (and because) the tenor ramps up into a classical frenzy concurrently with singer Noel Kelly repeating the lines "Did you feel? Did you feel? Did you feel?" Also brilliant. And then suddenly a trumpet that had been lurking in the background materializes front and center, adding the feeling of an offbeat fanfare to the closing measures. I like it.
The Hush Now is a quartet from Boston. "Hoping and Waiting" will appear on their second album, Constellations, due out as a self-release in October. (If you're interested, the band started giving its self-titled debut album away for free online earlier this year; you can still grab it here.)
Free and legal MP3 from Rollercoaster Project (robotic electro-goth with a heart of pure pop)
"Hoods Up" - Rollercoaster Project
Churning, robotic electro-goth, with a heart of pure pop. I'm oddly entranced by the buried, electronic vocals, which hint only intermittently, only ever so slightly, at their human origin; it's kind of like "Kid A" funneled through a lush carnival of soaring synth pop, on a bed of electronic nails. The wistful, almost heartbreaking melody of the chorus is icing on the electro-cake. Note how the electronic artifice fades into nature noises for the last minute of the track. It's not a half hour of crickets (see Neko Case) but it's pretty eco-ambient, and kind of a spooky coda to all the previous machinations.
And all of this, clearly, we should know by 2009, is the result of one guy fiddling with computers in a shed. The one guy this time is a Brit named Johnny White, who otherwise teaches guitar to elementary school students. White has apparently thought a lot about how our recording devices impact our memories, pondering questions such as "Has technology made us nostalgic voyeurs of our own existence?," according to the press material. "Hoods Up" is a song from the second Rollercoaster Project album, Revenge, scheduled for release later this month on Absolutely Kosher Records. MP3 via Absolutely Kosher.
Churning, robotic electro-goth, with a heart of pure pop. I'm oddly entranced by the buried, electronic vocals, which hint only intermittently, only ever so slightly, at their human origin; it's kind of like "Kid A" funneled through a lush carnival of soaring synth pop, on a bed of electronic nails. The wistful, almost heartbreaking melody of the chorus is icing on the electro-cake. Note how the electronic artifice fades into nature noises for the last minute of the track. It's not a half hour of crickets (see Neko Case) but it's pretty eco-ambient, and kind of a spooky coda to all the previous machinations.
And all of this, clearly, we should know by 2009, is the result of one guy fiddling with computers in a shed. The one guy this time is a Brit named Johnny White, who otherwise teaches guitar to elementary school students. White has apparently thought a lot about how our recording devices impact our memories, pondering questions such as "Has technology made us nostalgic voyeurs of our own existence?," according to the press material. "Hoods Up" is a song from the second Rollercoaster Project album, Revenge, scheduled for release later this month on Absolutely Kosher Records. MP3 via Absolutely Kosher.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Late posts this week
Sorry one and all for the late posts this week. Things went up only slightly late (Wednesday) on the main Fingertips site, but then I got waylaid and didn't have a chance to put these up on the blog till Friday night. Don't forget that the fastest way to stay in touch with the weekly selections is via the email list, if that doesn't seem too terribly quaint of an idea by 2009. You can find out more information about that here.
Free and legal MP3 from Adam Arcuragi (quirky, intelligent acoustic strummer, w/ trumpets & choral harmonies)
"She Comes to Me" - Adam Arcuragi
At once relaxed and intent, "She Comes to Me" is an instantly likable, subtly quirky acoustic strummer. And you should know that I don't have a lot of patience for run-of-the-mill acoustic strummers, which strike me by and large as a little, shall we say, boring. Despite what you might hear being aired on those they-mean-well-but-they're-really-sometimes-kind-of-dreadful "triple A" radio stations, songs are not good or wise or sensitive just because someone's playing an acoustic guitar and has an evocative voice.
"She Comes to Me" is good and wise and sensitive because it has movement and energy, because it's easy to listen to but difficult to pin down, because it is both aurally and structurally complex without being messy or silly. Unlike countless writers of run-of-the-mill acoustic strummers, Arcuragi here gives us a continually interesting melody, based on refreshing chord changes that don't seem to follow a predictable pattern. The melody is in fact somewhat hard to follow at first, but not in the least off-putting or strained. The typical acoustic strummer is a more lockstep affair, with easy to digest, regularly repeating chords and a plain--if not outright predictable--melody. Another worthy point of differentiation is Arcuragi's willingness to expand the instrumental palette beyond acoustic guitar, even as the acoustic guitar remains at the song's aural center. I particularly like the choir-like harmonies and the high-profile trumpets that are at once unexpected and exactly right.
Adam Arcuragi is a singer-songwriter born in Atlanta, now based in Philadelphia. "She Comes to Me" is from his second full-length CD, I Am Become Joy, released in June on High Two Records. MP3 via High Two. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the lead.
At once relaxed and intent, "She Comes to Me" is an instantly likable, subtly quirky acoustic strummer. And you should know that I don't have a lot of patience for run-of-the-mill acoustic strummers, which strike me by and large as a little, shall we say, boring. Despite what you might hear being aired on those they-mean-well-but-they're-really-sometimes-kind-of-dreadful "triple A" radio stations, songs are not good or wise or sensitive just because someone's playing an acoustic guitar and has an evocative voice.
"She Comes to Me" is good and wise and sensitive because it has movement and energy, because it's easy to listen to but difficult to pin down, because it is both aurally and structurally complex without being messy or silly. Unlike countless writers of run-of-the-mill acoustic strummers, Arcuragi here gives us a continually interesting melody, based on refreshing chord changes that don't seem to follow a predictable pattern. The melody is in fact somewhat hard to follow at first, but not in the least off-putting or strained. The typical acoustic strummer is a more lockstep affair, with easy to digest, regularly repeating chords and a plain--if not outright predictable--melody. Another worthy point of differentiation is Arcuragi's willingness to expand the instrumental palette beyond acoustic guitar, even as the acoustic guitar remains at the song's aural center. I particularly like the choir-like harmonies and the high-profile trumpets that are at once unexpected and exactly right.
Adam Arcuragi is a singer-songwriter born in Atlanta, now based in Philadelphia. "She Comes to Me" is from his second full-length CD, I Am Become Joy, released in June on High Two Records. MP3 via High Two. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the lead.
Free and legal MP3 from the Happy Hollows (itchy-crunchy indie rock w/ pixie-ish vocals & slashing guitar)
"Faces" - the Happy Hollows
The L.A.-based Happy Hollows return to Fingertips with an itchy-crunchy bit of indie rock enlivened by Sarah Negahdari's pixie-ish (but full-throttled) vocals and slashing guitar work. As intermittently discussed here, the rock trio can be a wondrous beast, especially when veering towards the noisy side of things. Because even at high volume, a trio always announces itself discretely: each part--guitar, bass, drum--is unavoidably and distinctly heard, each an important third of the sound. While there is (duh) room in the rock world for larger ensembles, the trio, when properly talented (I can imagine there is on the other hand little more discouraging than a mediocre trio), has the feeling of something archetypal.
What grabs me here in particular? Hmm. This seems to be one of those songs that I intuitively gravitate to without a conscious sense of why. Sure, I could probably retrofit an explanation but first of all that seems like cheating, and also, I think, part of the charm here is the song's holistic power. It's not one or another thing in particular, it's the everything altogether. Though, okay, I do specifically like the second line of the chorus, both the interesting chord it veers onto and the way Negahdari's voice hits a new level of vehemence just around then. It's the kind of shift that registers more unconsciously than consciously with the listener, and adds to the general sense of engagement. With this listener, at least.
"Faces" is the opening track from the band's forthcoming full-length debut, Spells, scheduled for an October release.
The L.A.-based Happy Hollows return to Fingertips with an itchy-crunchy bit of indie rock enlivened by Sarah Negahdari's pixie-ish (but full-throttled) vocals and slashing guitar work. As intermittently discussed here, the rock trio can be a wondrous beast, especially when veering towards the noisy side of things. Because even at high volume, a trio always announces itself discretely: each part--guitar, bass, drum--is unavoidably and distinctly heard, each an important third of the sound. While there is (duh) room in the rock world for larger ensembles, the trio, when properly talented (I can imagine there is on the other hand little more discouraging than a mediocre trio), has the feeling of something archetypal.
What grabs me here in particular? Hmm. This seems to be one of those songs that I intuitively gravitate to without a conscious sense of why. Sure, I could probably retrofit an explanation but first of all that seems like cheating, and also, I think, part of the charm here is the song's holistic power. It's not one or another thing in particular, it's the everything altogether. Though, okay, I do specifically like the second line of the chorus, both the interesting chord it veers onto and the way Negahdari's voice hits a new level of vehemence just around then. It's the kind of shift that registers more unconsciously than consciously with the listener, and adds to the general sense of engagement. With this listener, at least.
"Faces" is the opening track from the band's forthcoming full-length debut, Spells, scheduled for an October release.
Free and legal MP3 from Heroes of Popular Wars (semi-psychedelic, borderline funky, via vintage '80s equipment)
"A Bus Called Further" - Heroes of Popular Wars
Churny, semi-psychedelic, and borderline funky in an undanceable sort of way, "A Bus Called Further" is both groovily electronic and baroquely corporeal at the same time. Now I am the furthest thing imaginable from a gearhead so I only know what the PR material says, but apparently Stephe Sykes, the brains behind HOPW, uses all sorts of "new vintage" (i.e. '80s) equipment (guitar synths, 20-year-old samplers, and the like), which is no doubt what lends "A Bus Called Further" its chuggy, homemade vibe. Applying 21st-century mixing and collaging know-how to equipment made before people did this sort of thing is its own sort of mad genius.
And speaking of mad genius, the fact that the song title brings to (my) mind the song "Bus Called Happiness," from the great mad-genius band Pere Ubu, gives the whole thing bonus points.
Previously Brooklyn-based, Sykes moved Heroes of Popular Wars to L.A. this summer and is still getting settled there--a process which includes his having to find people to turn HOPW into a band that can play onstage. "A Bus Called Further" is a song from HOPW's debut full-length album, Church & McDonald, which was self-released late last month, and was named, you may as well know, for an intersection in the Kensington section of Brooklyn.
Churny, semi-psychedelic, and borderline funky in an undanceable sort of way, "A Bus Called Further" is both groovily electronic and baroquely corporeal at the same time. Now I am the furthest thing imaginable from a gearhead so I only know what the PR material says, but apparently Stephe Sykes, the brains behind HOPW, uses all sorts of "new vintage" (i.e. '80s) equipment (guitar synths, 20-year-old samplers, and the like), which is no doubt what lends "A Bus Called Further" its chuggy, homemade vibe. Applying 21st-century mixing and collaging know-how to equipment made before people did this sort of thing is its own sort of mad genius.
And speaking of mad genius, the fact that the song title brings to (my) mind the song "Bus Called Happiness," from the great mad-genius band Pere Ubu, gives the whole thing bonus points.
Previously Brooklyn-based, Sykes moved Heroes of Popular Wars to L.A. this summer and is still getting settled there--a process which includes his having to find people to turn HOPW into a band that can play onstage. "A Bus Called Further" is a song from HOPW's debut full-length album, Church & McDonald, which was self-released late last month, and was named, you may as well know, for an intersection in the Kensington section of Brooklyn.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Free and legal MP3s from Radiohead, the Swell Season, Elvis Perkins (vacation mode; no reviews)
Fingertips is heading into vacation mode for one more week, but so as not to leave you empty-handed this time, I'm pointing you in the direction of three notable free and legal MP3s that have come online in the last few days. These songs are well worth hearing, even though I'm not sure I will end up writing detailed reviews of them once I get back in the groove here. If you happen to follow the Fingertips Twitter stream, you'll know about these already. (And if you don't follow the Twitter stream, check it out if you're interested in daily links to free and legal MP3s and general news and information about the digital music scene.)
"These Are My Twisted Words" - Radiohead
This was first sighted as a sort of mystery song last week, confirmed as a Radiohead tune this week, and is now available as a free download via the band's site. Note that the song is available as a zip file, which has to be extracted in the usual way you would extract a zip file. The zip file contains not only the MP3 but the lyrics and 15 pages of gnarled-branch artwork the band suggests printing out on (firm) tracing paper with this advice: "You could put them in an order that pleases you."
The song has a long, tense intro, and a gratifying, simmering sort of rhythmic complexity, sounding like something from Amnesiac that showed up on In Rainbows by surprise.
"In These Arms" - the Swell Season
The Swell Season is the name that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova perform under; you may know them better as the people who sang together in the charming movie Once, and won an Oscar for the effort.
"In These Arms" is a pensive love song; read more about it here on Spinner, which is making the MP3 available.
"Slow Doomsday" - Elvis Perkins in Dearland
Elvis Perkins returns to Fingertips with a song from his band's forthcoming EP, to be entitled Doomsday. Loose-limbed and deliberate, this one has the vibe and spirit of a Dixieland dirge, thanks to EPiD's horn-laced lineup. MP3 via the Beggars Group. While you're at it, you might want to browse through all of the Beggars MP3s--they've been accumulating a nice collection there over the last few years. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the head's up on this one.
"These Are My Twisted Words" - Radiohead
This was first sighted as a sort of mystery song last week, confirmed as a Radiohead tune this week, and is now available as a free download via the band's site. Note that the song is available as a zip file, which has to be extracted in the usual way you would extract a zip file. The zip file contains not only the MP3 but the lyrics and 15 pages of gnarled-branch artwork the band suggests printing out on (firm) tracing paper with this advice: "You could put them in an order that pleases you."
The song has a long, tense intro, and a gratifying, simmering sort of rhythmic complexity, sounding like something from Amnesiac that showed up on In Rainbows by surprise.
"In These Arms" - the Swell Season
The Swell Season is the name that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova perform under; you may know them better as the people who sang together in the charming movie Once, and won an Oscar for the effort.
"In These Arms" is a pensive love song; read more about it here on Spinner, which is making the MP3 available.
"Slow Doomsday" - Elvis Perkins in Dearland
Elvis Perkins returns to Fingertips with a song from his band's forthcoming EP, to be entitled Doomsday. Loose-limbed and deliberate, this one has the vibe and spirit of a Dixieland dirge, thanks to EPiD's horn-laced lineup. MP3 via the Beggars Group. While you're at it, you might want to browse through all of the Beggars MP3s--they've been accumulating a nice collection there over the last few years. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the head's up on this one.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from the Color Turning (spacious and mellow with hints of old prog-rock but 21st-century vocals)
"Marionettes in Modern Times" - The Color Turning
If the music here has the spacious mellowness of a certain sort of ambling old prog-rock composition--mid-career Genesis, perhaps, or later Pink Floyd--singer Steve Scavo's sweet tones add such a decisively contemporary feeling (think Ben Gibbard or Jeremy Enigk rather than Peter Gabriel or David Gilmour) that the older allusions are likely to be overlooked by most who give this a listen. The band themselves may not even be doing it on purpose, but I'm such a relentless musical integrationist that I love it when I feel two (or more) distinct rock'n'roll eras combining in the here and now.
The thing that sells me without question on this one is the chorus. After the deeper, prog-y sounds of the intro, the verse, with its prominent acoustic rhythm and reverby synths, may strike a casual listener as an airy sort of Radiohead Lite. But this is exactly what sets us up for the chorus, the way a narrow path through the woods makes the flower-strewn meadow it leads to all the more glorious. The chorus takes the airiness of the verse and subtly but firmly focuses it both melodically and instrumentally. As soaring guitar and synth lines replace the acoustic strumming, note how the vocal melody--starting now in the second measure, nicely playing off the first measure's dreamy instrumental motif--leads us first to a resolution (1:30) and then, almost before you can register it, back into an upward-striving ambiguity (1:32-34) that floats us back into the verse. Note too how the verse, the second time around, unfolds with a few engaging differences. And yes, my description risks turning something delicate and gorgeous into something that sounds dry and technical, but there's an easy antidote: just listen to the song.
The Color Turning is a quartet from LA. "Marionettes in Modern Times" is from the band's first full-length CD, Good Hands Bad Blood, released earlier this month on Softdrive Records, a label started in 2006 by Stone Temple Pilots singer Scott Weiland.
If the music here has the spacious mellowness of a certain sort of ambling old prog-rock composition--mid-career Genesis, perhaps, or later Pink Floyd--singer Steve Scavo's sweet tones add such a decisively contemporary feeling (think Ben Gibbard or Jeremy Enigk rather than Peter Gabriel or David Gilmour) that the older allusions are likely to be overlooked by most who give this a listen. The band themselves may not even be doing it on purpose, but I'm such a relentless musical integrationist that I love it when I feel two (or more) distinct rock'n'roll eras combining in the here and now.
The thing that sells me without question on this one is the chorus. After the deeper, prog-y sounds of the intro, the verse, with its prominent acoustic rhythm and reverby synths, may strike a casual listener as an airy sort of Radiohead Lite. But this is exactly what sets us up for the chorus, the way a narrow path through the woods makes the flower-strewn meadow it leads to all the more glorious. The chorus takes the airiness of the verse and subtly but firmly focuses it both melodically and instrumentally. As soaring guitar and synth lines replace the acoustic strumming, note how the vocal melody--starting now in the second measure, nicely playing off the first measure's dreamy instrumental motif--leads us first to a resolution (1:30) and then, almost before you can register it, back into an upward-striving ambiguity (1:32-34) that floats us back into the verse. Note too how the verse, the second time around, unfolds with a few engaging differences. And yes, my description risks turning something delicate and gorgeous into something that sounds dry and technical, but there's an easy antidote: just listen to the song.
The Color Turning is a quartet from LA. "Marionettes in Modern Times" is from the band's first full-length CD, Good Hands Bad Blood, released earlier this month on Softdrive Records, a label started in 2006 by Stone Temple Pilots singer Scott Weiland.
Free and legal MP3 from Port O'Brien (instantly likable but still slightly unusual Americana-ish rocker)
"Sour Milk/Salt Water" - Port O'Brien
Strummy, lyrically insistent verses, with double-tracked vocals, alternate with a plaintive chorus, lyrics now moving at half the pace of the music, vocals still double-tracked but now in an almost Neil Young-like upper register. And while the whole thing is pretty simple sounding at one level it's mysteriously compelling at another--both instantly likable and slightly unusual.
Or maybe it's not so mysterious, just well-crafted. Even as the lyrics topple out in the mode of a one-note harangue (a la "Subterranean Homesick Blues"), the music actually shifts between two notes, one-half step apart--it starts on a B, goes up to C, then back to B. Check it out and try to focus on how the underlying chords, which go back and forth from major to minor, shift each time just ahead of when the note itself changes. The end result is a wonderful sort of musical sleight of hand, delivering at once the intensity of a one-note verse and the involvement of a melody. The effect is enhanced by the way the song takes advantage of how aurally distinct two chords can be that are built around notes separated by just a half step.
Port O'Brien is a quintet from northern California with roots in Alaska as well--founders Van Pierszalowski and Cambria Goodwin spend summers on Kodiak Island, Pierszalowski working on a commercial fishing boat with his father, Goodwin as the town baker. Suddenly the title of the song makes a bit more sense, eh? "Sour Milk/Salt Water" will be found on the album Threadbare, the band's second full-length, due out in October on TBD Records. MP3 via City Slang, a Berlin-based label that releases a lot of American indie rock in Europe. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the head's up.
Strummy, lyrically insistent verses, with double-tracked vocals, alternate with a plaintive chorus, lyrics now moving at half the pace of the music, vocals still double-tracked but now in an almost Neil Young-like upper register. And while the whole thing is pretty simple sounding at one level it's mysteriously compelling at another--both instantly likable and slightly unusual.
Or maybe it's not so mysterious, just well-crafted. Even as the lyrics topple out in the mode of a one-note harangue (a la "Subterranean Homesick Blues"), the music actually shifts between two notes, one-half step apart--it starts on a B, goes up to C, then back to B. Check it out and try to focus on how the underlying chords, which go back and forth from major to minor, shift each time just ahead of when the note itself changes. The end result is a wonderful sort of musical sleight of hand, delivering at once the intensity of a one-note verse and the involvement of a melody. The effect is enhanced by the way the song takes advantage of how aurally distinct two chords can be that are built around notes separated by just a half step.
Port O'Brien is a quintet from northern California with roots in Alaska as well--founders Van Pierszalowski and Cambria Goodwin spend summers on Kodiak Island, Pierszalowski working on a commercial fishing boat with his father, Goodwin as the town baker. Suddenly the title of the song makes a bit more sense, eh? "Sour Milk/Salt Water" will be found on the album Threadbare, the band's second full-length, due out in October on TBD Records. MP3 via City Slang, a Berlin-based label that releases a lot of American indie rock in Europe. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the head's up.
Free and legal MP3 from Joe Henry (deconstructed, slow-motion gospel blues, Joe Henry style)
"Death to the Storm" - Joe Henry
A dusty, deconstructed, slow-motion gospel-blues stomp. I consistently like Joe Henry's music without really knowing why. His songs succeed through atmosphere, maybe, more than anything else, which with Henry involves a canny intermingling of his fuzzy-buzzy baritone--rich and weary in a fin de siècle sort of way--with an idiosyncratic mix of sounds and organic beats. This time around, I'm particularly enjoying Marc Ribot's unmistakable guitar lines, with their dry ghostly twang, which imply a bunch of noise they're not actually making; the subtle interplay of a tinkly piano with a quiet horn of some sort; and the continuous use of drum rolls, on at least two different types of drums, to keep things edgy and forlorn.
Each time Henry releases an album, music writers seem to knock themselves out talking about how different it is from his last one but to my ears, everything sounds entirely Joe Henryesque. However different the music may be--and in all honesty I'm not hearing the differences others are hearing--the voice and the warm, intriguing sonic amalgam is a strong constant. If you've liked his stuff in the past, you'll like this; if you like this, go back and check out some of his older things. You'll like them too.
"Death to the Storm" is from the album Blood From Stars, to be released next week on Anti Records. MP3 via Spinner.
A dusty, deconstructed, slow-motion gospel-blues stomp. I consistently like Joe Henry's music without really knowing why. His songs succeed through atmosphere, maybe, more than anything else, which with Henry involves a canny intermingling of his fuzzy-buzzy baritone--rich and weary in a fin de siècle sort of way--with an idiosyncratic mix of sounds and organic beats. This time around, I'm particularly enjoying Marc Ribot's unmistakable guitar lines, with their dry ghostly twang, which imply a bunch of noise they're not actually making; the subtle interplay of a tinkly piano with a quiet horn of some sort; and the continuous use of drum rolls, on at least two different types of drums, to keep things edgy and forlorn.
Each time Henry releases an album, music writers seem to knock themselves out talking about how different it is from his last one but to my ears, everything sounds entirely Joe Henryesque. However different the music may be--and in all honesty I'm not hearing the differences others are hearing--the voice and the warm, intriguing sonic amalgam is a strong constant. If you've liked his stuff in the past, you'll like this; if you like this, go back and check out some of his older things. You'll like them too.
"Death to the Storm" is from the album Blood From Stars, to be released next week on Anti Records. MP3 via Spinner.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Fingertips Top 10, as of right now
The Fingertips Top 10, over on the main site, is an easy way to catch up with some of the best songs that have been posted here over the last few months. I haven't blogged about it since April, and it's turned over again since then, so here you have it, as of Friday August 7th. It's something of a Scandinavian takeover, now that I think about it:
1. "What You Said" - the Decks
2. Trophy Wife" - the Winter Sounds
3. "Die Young" - the Sweet Serenades
4. "Miracle" - Sally Shapiro
5. "Goodbye" - the Argument
6. "Lalita" - the Love Language
7. "When the Devil's Loose" - A. A. Bondy
8. "Tammie" - the Dø
9. "Gold and Warm" - Bad Veins
10. "Turning Into You" - Wheels On Fire
So let's see, there are one, two, three, four Scandinavian acts in here out of ten, but I'll let you figure out which is which. The next song slated for retirement (no song can last on the current top 10 list for more than three months) is "Die Young" by the Sweet Serenades (hint: from Sweden), which will head for the archives at the end of next week.
Like everything else on Fingertips, the Top 10 is idiosyncratic and synchronicitous. No research has been harmed, never mind consulted, in the construction of this list, which is simply my way of shining an extra spotlight onto ten particularly wonderful songs at any given time. 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 at any time.
1. "What You Said" - the Decks
2. Trophy Wife" - the Winter Sounds
3. "Die Young" - the Sweet Serenades
4. "Miracle" - Sally Shapiro
5. "Goodbye" - the Argument
6. "Lalita" - the Love Language
7. "When the Devil's Loose" - A. A. Bondy
8. "Tammie" - the Dø
9. "Gold and Warm" - Bad Veins
10. "Turning Into You" - Wheels On Fire
So let's see, there are one, two, three, four Scandinavian acts in here out of ten, but I'll let you figure out which is which. The next song slated for retirement (no song can last on the current top 10 list for more than three months) is "Die Young" by the Sweet Serenades (hint: from Sweden), which will head for the archives at the end of next week.
Like everything else on Fingertips, the Top 10 is idiosyncratic and synchronicitous. No research has been harmed, never mind consulted, in the construction of this list, which is simply my way of shining an extra spotlight onto ten particularly wonderful songs at any given time. 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 at any time.
Thursday, August 06, 2009
August Q&A: Brian Sendrowitz, of Beat Radio
The latest musician to sit down and answer a few questions about the state of music in the digital age is Brooklyn's Brian Sendrowitz, front man and songwriter for the informal collective known as Beat Radio. The interview is now online; and if you go to the bottom you can also catch up on past interviews you might have missed.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Free and legal MP3 from Bad Veins (propulsive, nuanced indie rock w/ an unexpectedly huge chorus)
"Gold and Warm" - Bad Veins
Propulsive and canny, "Gold and Warm" sneaks a huge, sing-along chorus into a multifaceted piece that sounds very little like standard-issue indie-rock-duo music in an age in which the duo has become oddly commonplace.
The dreamy, retro-y orchestral intro is an immediate clue that the song may not unfold as expected. While "Gold and Warm" drives with a determined beat, it also opens itself at various points to more delicate touches, and although singer-songwriter-guitarist-keyboardist Benjamin Davis pushes his voice through something of a Strokes-like filter, he doesn't use that as an excuse to sing monotonously, which is something this particular effect typically encourages. The rich-toned Davis shows me a thing or two about the emotional range that's still possible for a filtered voice, while partner Sebastien Schultz gives the duo the gift of a human drummer, grounding the band's sound in something nuanced and organic, often putting his cymbal work more forward than the drumming in the mix. And then listen to him work the drum kit in the instrumental break that accompanies the instrumental interlude three-quarters of the way into the song (2:46)--that's just some good, old-fashioned drumming the likes of which you might have heard from Ringo way back when: patient, spacious, self-effacing, and effective precisely because it doesn't try to be intricate or show-off-y.
"Gold and Warm" is the second track on the Cincinnati-based band's self-titled debut, released last month on Dangerbird Records. MP3 via Spinner.
Propulsive and canny, "Gold and Warm" sneaks a huge, sing-along chorus into a multifaceted piece that sounds very little like standard-issue indie-rock-duo music in an age in which the duo has become oddly commonplace.
The dreamy, retro-y orchestral intro is an immediate clue that the song may not unfold as expected. While "Gold and Warm" drives with a determined beat, it also opens itself at various points to more delicate touches, and although singer-songwriter-guitarist-keyboardist Benjamin Davis pushes his voice through something of a Strokes-like filter, he doesn't use that as an excuse to sing monotonously, which is something this particular effect typically encourages. The rich-toned Davis shows me a thing or two about the emotional range that's still possible for a filtered voice, while partner Sebastien Schultz gives the duo the gift of a human drummer, grounding the band's sound in something nuanced and organic, often putting his cymbal work more forward than the drumming in the mix. And then listen to him work the drum kit in the instrumental break that accompanies the instrumental interlude three-quarters of the way into the song (2:46)--that's just some good, old-fashioned drumming the likes of which you might have heard from Ringo way back when: patient, spacious, self-effacing, and effective precisely because it doesn't try to be intricate or show-off-y.
"Gold and Warm" is the second track on the Cincinnati-based band's self-titled debut, released last month on Dangerbird Records. MP3 via Spinner.
Free and legal MP3 from the Blueflowers (reverb-laced and twangy, with silken vocals and dreamy melody)
"I Wasn't Her" - the Blueflowers
Relaxed, reverb-laced tale of woe from a Detroit-based quintet that's new on the scene but features musicians with a lot of experience, including two--guitarist Tony Hamera and vocalist Kate Hinote (can that be her real name? "High note"?)--who had previously fronted Ether Aura, a dream pop band with a bit of a following in the '90s. Not to sound like a broken record on the matter, but I continue not to understand music culture's relentless focus on newcomers when music itself is so enriched by the background and experience of the players. I don't think musicians can sound simultaneously so laid-back and so compelling without years of playing under their belts.
In any case, dream pop is ostensibly out the door this time in favor of an old-fashioned sort of Americana that offers echoes of hard-core country and western in its slo-mo twang and steel-pedal sorrow. And yet I'm hearing in the song's central hook--when Hinote, silkily, sings "You weren't everything that I wanted" in the chorus--something that comes from outside the genre in which the band appears to be operating. That is not by any means a country and western melody, and hearing it here makes me realize rather abruptly that there is in fact a musical place in which C&W and dream pop are not at all far apart, given both genres' love of reverb and dolor. Being so personally against the over-genre-ization of music, I love when the borders grow foggy, and find myself drawn again and again to songs that can't be given a simple genre tag.
"I Wasn't Her" can be found on the band's self-released debut album, Watercolor Ghost Town, released in June. MP3 via Last.fm; thanks to the blog Hits in the Car for the head's up.
Relaxed, reverb-laced tale of woe from a Detroit-based quintet that's new on the scene but features musicians with a lot of experience, including two--guitarist Tony Hamera and vocalist Kate Hinote (can that be her real name? "High note"?)--who had previously fronted Ether Aura, a dream pop band with a bit of a following in the '90s. Not to sound like a broken record on the matter, but I continue not to understand music culture's relentless focus on newcomers when music itself is so enriched by the background and experience of the players. I don't think musicians can sound simultaneously so laid-back and so compelling without years of playing under their belts.
In any case, dream pop is ostensibly out the door this time in favor of an old-fashioned sort of Americana that offers echoes of hard-core country and western in its slo-mo twang and steel-pedal sorrow. And yet I'm hearing in the song's central hook--when Hinote, silkily, sings "You weren't everything that I wanted" in the chorus--something that comes from outside the genre in which the band appears to be operating. That is not by any means a country and western melody, and hearing it here makes me realize rather abruptly that there is in fact a musical place in which C&W and dream pop are not at all far apart, given both genres' love of reverb and dolor. Being so personally against the over-genre-ization of music, I love when the borders grow foggy, and find myself drawn again and again to songs that can't be given a simple genre tag.
"I Wasn't Her" can be found on the band's self-released debut album, Watercolor Ghost Town, released in June. MP3 via Last.fm; thanks to the blog Hits in the Car for the head's up.
Free and legal MP3 from Slaraffenland (restless, inventive Danish art-pop w/ great horns)
"Meet and Greet" - Slaraffenland
The enigmatic Danish art-popsters Slaraffenland return to Fingertips with a brisk, deceptively restless composition that incorporates some of the most delightful and inventive horn charts I've heard in a pop setting, not to mention some gratifyingly precise and rumbly percussion. This is the kind of song that, if you sink into it on its own terms, has you rethinking what a three- or four-minute rock song might be able to do. I don't hear any standard hooks here and yet not for a moment does my attention or spirit sag.
And do check out those horns. There's the splendid bit of syncopated layering we hear from them in their first concentrated appearance, from 1:14 to 1:36, but then listen to how they come back in the same extended instrumental section (now 1:48), this time playing in a blurry, sliding/pulsing sort of chorus, and yet still with their own rhythmic integrity. This is extremely wonderful, to my ears. Eccentric, but extremely wonderful.
For some interesting notes on the band's name, read the review from the last time they were here. "Meet and Greet" is the lead single from the forthcoming album, We're On Your Side, slated for a September release on the Portland, Ore.-based Hometapes label.
The enigmatic Danish art-popsters Slaraffenland return to Fingertips with a brisk, deceptively restless composition that incorporates some of the most delightful and inventive horn charts I've heard in a pop setting, not to mention some gratifyingly precise and rumbly percussion. This is the kind of song that, if you sink into it on its own terms, has you rethinking what a three- or four-minute rock song might be able to do. I don't hear any standard hooks here and yet not for a moment does my attention or spirit sag.
And do check out those horns. There's the splendid bit of syncopated layering we hear from them in their first concentrated appearance, from 1:14 to 1:36, but then listen to how they come back in the same extended instrumental section (now 1:48), this time playing in a blurry, sliding/pulsing sort of chorus, and yet still with their own rhythmic integrity. This is extremely wonderful, to my ears. Eccentric, but extremely wonderful.
For some interesting notes on the band's name, read the review from the last time they were here. "Meet and Greet" is the lead single from the forthcoming album, We're On Your Side, slated for a September release on the Portland, Ore.-based Hometapes label.
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