THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Oct. 24-30

"Neighborhood #2 (Laika)" - the Arcade Fire
A gut-satisfying drumbeat, sleighbells, and a distinctively plucked guitar concoct a great introduction here, and that's even before the bandoneon enters. I think this is a bandoneon; in any case, it's a charming, plaintive accordion riff, and it goes on to form the backbone of a compelling song from an eccentric Montreal quintet. With a prominent amount of shouting and/or fuzzy-megaphone vocalizing, this song is not a smooth listen; I needed to hear it a number of times before I began to like it, so hang in there before jumping to conclusions. "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)" is one of four numbered "Neighborhood" songs on the band's Funeral album, released last month on Merge Records, to wide acclaim. I should note that the Arcade Fire's emergence as one of the "it" bands of 2004 made me more than a little suspicious before I even heard them. I'm not normally prone to cynicism, but I mistrust pop music criticism's flavor-of-the-month tendencies, which are prompted by fashion rather than sound. (One critic, for instance, wrote, of the Arcade Fire, that "though the band utilizes nice melodies and lively arrangements, the nostalgia-steeped-indie-rock-orchestra pool was pretty much drained before The Arcade Fire dove in." Silly! Fashion designers may feel that a certain look is "done" once it's been too widely adopted, but musicians? An outlandish and elitist criticism. But I digress.) The MP3 is on Better Propaganda, a site which does not allow direct links, so you'll have to click on the "Free MP3" button in the "Selected MP3s" box to grab this one.

"The Dirt-Bike Option" - the Fauves
Gruff but lovable guitar pop from an underappreciated Australian band. That is, in Australia they're underappreciated; here in the U.S., they're completely unknown. But there's no way I for one am not going to like the heck out of a song with a sing-along chorus featuring this lyric: "Ooh, the dirt-bike option paid off/We never settled with the workers that we laid off." The rumbly guitars balanced by spiffy harmonies in the chorus and a wonderfully cheesy organ line are further merits. Plus I am bound to be partial to a song that arose as follows: "The title came from listening to Terry [Cleaver; the bass player] bang on backstage at a gig in Bateman's Bay about a new computer game he'd been playing; one in which he had 'exercised the dirt-bike option'. Songs about computer games are boring so the main lyric dealt with the somewhat unrelated topic of messiah complexes and cults living in fortified compounds." It seems poetic justic, somehow, that the world-weary, self-deprecating Fauves have now lasted longer than the early 20th-century art movement after which they named themselves. Formed in Melbourne in the late '80s, the band scored some commercial successes in Australia in the mid-'90s, but have struggled more recently to get themselves heard--a reality implied by the name of the 2000 single ("Celebrate the Failure") which contained "The Dirt-Bike Option" as a B-side. The MP3 is available on the band's web site, along with a number of other enjoyable B-sides and rarities.

"Graceland" - the New Pornographers
Big and exuberant, this likable rocker showcases the New Pornographers' enviable capacity to channel the sounds of bygone eras while still sounding fresh and catchy. "Graceland" (not the Paul Simon song) has the irrepressible drive and gleeful harmonies of, I don't know, an old Grass Roots song maybe. Built on top of a shuffly pair of ever-irresistible four-note intervals, the whole thing brings back the early '70s in some ineffable way. "Graceland" is posted on Insound; the song can be found on the Matador at 15 CD, which features 35 tracks spanning the 15-year history of Matador Records, released late last month.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Oct. 17-23

"Lucky Jam" - Soft
A brand new band from Brooklyn, Soft has emerged Athena-like, fully-formed from the head of the internet. According to the band's John Reineck, Soft spent a year writing, rehearsing, and recording in their practice space without once playing in public or playing for anyone else at all. Not an approach that's going to work for everyone, but I for one am enjoying the payoff in Soft's case. It takes a certain amount of gumption and know-how to craft a compelling hook from a syncopated beat, but that's exactly what "Lucky Jam" does from its opening notes, as a lovely, Edge-like guitar rings out against a stuttering drum beat. After that, singer Reineck barely has to open his mouth to have me completely engaged, his voice channeling a bygone time of power-pop innocence (does the band Shoes still ring a bell to anyone?) even as the musical drive feels fully of the current 21st-century moment and the band's sophistication--for starters, listen to how guitarists Vincent Perini and Samuel Wheeler wind their instruments around one another--gives the song a subtle depth at every turn. "Lucky Jam" is posted on the band's web site. Soft expects to have a full-length CD ready by January.

"Jody Said" - Farma
Here's a beautiful, restrained, and idiosyncratic Americana-ish ballad from the formidable San Francisco quintet Farma. From a twinkly, slightly psychedelic start, "Jody Said" proceeds with great assurance over territory that would feel downright quirky if it didn't likewise seem so familiar. The song combines the gruff delicacy of Son Volt with the jazz-inflected chord flavors of Steely Dan, fleshing out the strong melody with a lazy, soaring steel guitar and noodly keyboards. When the verse returns after an instrumental break in the middle, everything coalesces, and as the melody gets to that place where it modulates and extends beyond the frame ("I'll be dreaming in this bar, eternally"), the enterprise levitates to that place where the effect of a song transcends the particulars of its construction. "Jody Said" will be found on the band's self-titled EP, soon to be released on Wishing Tree Records. The MP3 is on the band's web site.

"Second Winter" - Patty Moon
Right away the tremulous flute and drama-queen chords tell you this is borderline kitsch, and that's even before the cinematic wash of pop-electronica sweeps in to create an eye-opening Lulu-meets-Portishead vibe. (I'll quickly note that there's nothing wrong with borderline kitsch; Blondie has always walked that line to great effect as well.) When Patty Moon, the singer (Patty Moon is also the name of the band; they're from Germany) intones "I've been waiting all this winter for a true emotion"--gee, I hope Morrissey gets a royalty check for that line--the song defeats my resistance, winning me over on its own glorious-wacky terms: like any good pop song, it creates its own kind eternity from the forces that swirl around it here in this moment. And it will always do that. "To Sir With Love," after all, wasn't necessarily a great song, but it's always listenable, and it will always evoke the British mid-'60s pop scene in a way little else will. With enough exposure (and this is not necessarily likely to get that exposure), "Second Winter" could one day evoke the mid-'00s Euro-global pop scene in a similar way. The MP3 arrives via the worthwhile German MP3 hub Tonspion; the song is on the band's CD Clouds Inside, released this month in Europe on the Berlin-based Traumton Records.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Oct. 10-16

"36" - Christina Rosenvinge
Singing accented English with a sweet sort of weariness, Christina Rosenvinge muses whisperily on the strains of growing older. Against a quiet guitar lick that sounds like the Nutcracker's "Waltz of the Flowers" theme turned sad and lonely, "36" is a lullaby for grownups, propelled by a sing-song rhythm and an exquisitely intimate accompaniment; I particularly love the desolate, distant, slightly dissonant background tones between verses, embodying time's doleful passage. The song comes from the Madrid-born Rosenvinge's second English-language CD, Foreign Land, released two years ago in Europe and slated for a U.S. release on Smells Like Records "soon," according to the SLR web site. Her first CD in English was 2001's charming, bittersweet Frozen Pool, also on SLR. The intimate sound of these two recent CDs represents a prodigious break from her past; you'd never know that in the late '80s, Rosenvinge was a huge pop star in Spain and Latin America as one half of the duo Alex y Christina. But she quickly tired of both the media attention and the musical constraints imposed by mass-market pop success. She left Alex behind to record three solo albums in the '90s, the last of which was produced in Sonic Youth's studio in New York City in 1996. Captivated by Manhattan, Rosenvinge eventually moved there and hooked back up with Steve Shelley and Lee Renaldo of Sonic Youth, who ultimately helped her create Frozen Pool. The "36" MP3 can be found on the distribution/label site Midheaven.com; thanks to Sixeyes for the head's up.

"Queen of Verlaine" - High Water Marks
Satisfying, buzzy-fuzzy pop from an unusual collaboration between American and Norwegian indie stars. Drummer Hilarie Sidney from the Apples in Stereo and Per Ole Bratset, of the Oslo-based band Palermo, began a long-distance songwriting relationship after the two met during an Apples in Stereo tour in 2002. Eventually Sidney, from Lexington, Kentucky, went to Norway to record with Bratset, in a hotel room of all places. The end result was so apparently gratifying that Bratset has since relocated to Lexington to turn the High Water Marks into a real band (the two other members also live in Kentucky). I like a lot of things about this song, beginning with the cheery, churning vibe, and including distinct elements like Bratset's appealing voice (and geez it's really really hard to describe voices in concrete words; that's probably why writers often resort to comparisons to other voices) and the use of a distorted guitar wave underneath the basic drive of the song. "Queen of Verlaine" comes from the band's debut CD, Songs About the Ocean, released last month on Eenie Meenie Records; the MP3 is on the Eenie Meenie web site.

"Did I Let You Down?" - Folksongs for the Afterlife
This duo from New York City creates an unexpectedly rich and effective sonic stew; don't let the group's name mislead you into expecting a simple strumming acoustic guitar and sappy lyrics. Out of the gate the song engages me with its trip-hop-meets-salsa-at-the-movies stylishness. Then Caroline Schutz's clear and airy voice takes over, and watch out--I don't think I've ever heard the word "fuck" sung with such offhanded beauty. Wait for the chorus and you'll see what I mean. This song also highlights the timeless appeal of a well-placed xylophone solo. "Did I Let You Down?" can be found on the group's sole full-length CD--Put Danger Back in Your Life, released last year on Parasol/Hidden Agenda. The MP3 is on the band's site.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option; click on this sentence for more information

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Oct. 3-9

"How's It Gonna End" - Tom Waits
Take the songs Tom Waits was writing for albums like Rain Dogs and Frank's Wild Years strip them of their darkly exuberant carnivalia--the raggedy clankings and tootings and snarlings--and you're left with something slinky and creaky like "How's It Gonna End." The song is a fascinating study in minimalist production; driven by little more than a plucked bass, intermittent tom-tom, and what sounds like a small section of staccato, barely-blown horns, Waits delivers a grumbly series of bleak, vaguely surreal scenarios, tied together by the repetition of the title phrase. Every now and then something else happens musically--a tuba plays one note; ghostly background singers emerge for a few lines; fingers screech on metal guitar strings--but the song plunks along all but unaware. It's almost as if he's playing in a room full of musicians, most of whom are simply listening. The effect is at once comic and tragic, bolstered by the lyrics' characteristic mix of skeletal storytelling and cryptic pronouncements ("The reptiles blend in with the color of the street/Life is sweet at the edge of a razor"). If you don't love Tom Waits you might consider learning to love him. The song is found on Real Gone, to be released tomorrow on Anti Records. The MP3 is available on Indie Workshop.

"Heaven or Las Vegas" - Cocteau Twins
Vast, cascading beauty, as sparkling-sounding today as when it was released 14 years ago. Guitarist Robin Guthrie has an unearthly ability to make a droning guitar shimmer with joy, and singer Elizabeth Fraser's fetching incomprehensibility works its usual magic, even as you can in this case actually understand words here and there. The Cocteau Twins weren't always as accessible as this, but surely this illustrates that accessible is not always a bad thing. The song (in a longer version) was the title track of the group's 1990 release, on 4AD Records. The MP3 is on the band's site.

"Bush Must Be Defeated" - Dan Bern
In the spirit of debate week, here is without a doubt the goofiest angry protest song I've ever heard. Talk about "on message": Dan Bern does not relent, but even as I'm positive that I do not need to hear him sing the refrain any longer (alright already! I get it!), it begins to sink in that the wacky rhymes that spill from his mouth ("Bush must be defeated/His goodbye coffee heated/His inaugural spats uncleated/His White House bed short-sheeted") work doubly well because of the inevitability of the refrain. This is not a subtle song, but there are only a few weeks left; those inclined to agree with the message need it in the air. "Bush Must Be Defeated" comes from an EP released last month entitled My Country II (Messenger Records); the MP3 is on the Messenger Records site. For those unfamiliar with his work, Bern is worthwhile getting to know. He's a bit erratic, but indomitable, fearless, and more than a little gifted as a Dylan-infused singer/songwriter.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Sept. 26-Oct. 2

"Indian Summer" - Maplewood
One of a surprising number of current bands that are grooving, against all odds, to a very '70s mellow-rock vibe, Maplewood even has the one-word band name to seal the deal (think America, think Bread). But Maplewood brings more than nostalgia and anti-hip-hipness to the table here; the music is not only groovy, it's intelligent, brisk, and crisp. Both briskness and crispness are crucial if the mellow thing is going to work for me: a certain sort of clean and upbeat strumminess is necessary to keep the music from stewing its own sappy juices, while crispness--both of sound and arrangement--is probably what lends an air of intelligence to the effort in the first place. Listen, for instance, to the three-part harmonies, which kick in with the second verse: the two background voices are mixed perfectly, with just enough oomph to give the song a wash of beauty, while avoiding the "look at us singing in three-part harmony" effect one usually hears whenever a band has the cajones to try it in the first place. "Indian Summer" leads off Maplewood's self-titled debut CD, released earlier this month on Tee Pee Records. You'll find the MP3 on the band web's site.

"No Danger" - Inouk
Unfolding with singular style, "No Danger" offers the ear a series of intriguing, mysteriously slippery hooks at every bend. An opening, repeated, siren-like call of the guitar gives way to a twitchingly percussive second guitar, which is then joined by a third guitar, playing a churning, repeated melody line before a now-acoustic guitar punctuates the intro and the vocals start. The interweaving of the three electric guitars serves as an undercurrent against which the song develops in a very hard to describe manner, driven as it is by an almost compositional sense of complexity. By the time the chorus is repeated (and it's hard to hear as a chorus the first time around) I'm completely engaged: by the chugging major-minor fluctuation of the guitar, the literally offbeat call-and-response section (we suddenly lose a beat in the measure after the word "anyone" is repeated, but get it right back again), and then, in the literal last minute, the seamless introduction of new elements, including a new melody, a noodly new guitar sound, and (particularly unexpected and charming) a chorus of ghostly female back-up singers. "No Danger" is the title track to the band's first full-length CD, released in August on Say Hey Records. The MP3 is on the band's site. A NYC band with roots in Philadelphia, Inouk is worth knowing about and keeping an eye on.

"What's Your New Thing?" - Walking Concert
Kinda chunky, kinda poppy, and kinda edgy, just the way a good two-and-a-half-minute song should be. Walking Concert's founder, Walter Schreifels, has a long indie-rock history behind him by now, having started the bands Gorilla Biscuits, Quicksand, and Rival Schools before launching Walking Concert. Um, don't worry, I never heard of them before either, as I have never been musically drawn to the so-called "hard core" side of alternative rock. But apparently Schreifels was well-regarded in those circles, and something of a wunderkind, as he was but 16 when Gorilla Biscuits launched; the guy's still in his early 30s at this point. His background, in any case, brings an undeniable energy-burst to this likable little song, which displays an affectionate awareness of some of rock'n'roll's best pop, both older (early Who and Kinks and even David Bowie) and newer (the Replacements, Guided By Voices). "What's Your New Thing?" is found on the band's debut CD, Run To Be Born, released earlier this month on Some Records; the MP3 is on the label's web site. Thanks to 3hive for the head's up on this one.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Sept. 19-25

"The Science of Your Mind" - The Comas
This song begins with the unlikely but immediately appealing combination of a Middle Eastern synthesizer line topped by a jazzy acoustic guitar noodle, then churns without hesitation into a swift, minor-key tale of love gone sour. Along the way are some tasty finger-snaps, spy-movie bass riffs, echoey drumbeats, and a nifty guitar solo. What's more, even as the screed of a spurned lover (cliche-ridden territory to be sure), the song yields some intriguing lyrics--I especially like the second verse, where the rejectee offers a series of reverse blessings ("May your days be long and cold" etc.). All in all, an accomplished effort. "The Science of Your Mind" is the lead track on Conductor, the band's third album, released last month on Yep Roc Records; the MP3 is on the Yep Roc web site.

"Pelz Comet" - The Kingsbury Manx
This North Carolina band is channeling an elusive '60s vibe--not Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson, as quite a number of indie outfits seem to be doing these days (not that there's anything wrong with that!), but some weird space in which early Pink Floyd and later Simon & Garfunkel dance to the same drummer, or at least acoustic guitarist. There is something timelessly hand-made and organic about this sound; if they are building on the past, they are creating their own structure, not just rearranging someone else's bricks, as it were. Notably more assertive than the band's previous TWF entry, the dreamy "Porchlight," this song has three distinct but interrelated sections. The first is driven by acoustic guitar riffs and is anchored by a simple, plaintive chorus ("Here I stand/Still waiting on you") that manages beyond expectation to stick in my head. The second section is instrumental, bringing in one electric guitar, and then two, for an intertwining series of snaky, perhaps even Beatle-y descending melody lines which establish a syncopated sort of presence only to dissolve into the third section: a piano-fueled, double-time coda. "Pelz Comet" comes from the band's third CD, Aztec Discipline, which emerged rather too quietly last October on Overcoat Recordings; the MP3 is on the band's web site.

"Nightly Cares" - Múm
So once and for all we should realize that Björk is not the only female singer in Iceland. Although when you first hear Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir's whispery, baby-girl voice, you may wish she were. This voice is probably an acquired taste. The song is an acquired taste, maybe, as well--building with almost painful slowness at the beginning, a distant-foghorn-like synthesizer repeating, without hurry, over atmospheric background noises of one sort or another, also distant-sounding. It's a minute and a half before the song moves into the foreground, acquires a solid--if slow--beat, and then, careful, here comes Kristín Anna, in all her whispery glory. But the band works with the sonic fabric so attentively that over time, the voice somehow begins to make sense. For all the trip-hoppy clickings and clackings around the edges, the music here has a warm and human feel--the drums are real (you can hear the wire brushes), a muted trumpet and a melodica (!) trade licks along the way, and, if I'm not mistaken (although lord knows I could be), that's an actual bowed saw in the background adding to the spooky majesty. The song is from the band's third CD, Summer Make Good, which came out in May on Fat Cat Records. The MP3 is hosted on Indie Workshop.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Sept. 12-18

"Welcome Back" - The Trashcan Sinatras
There's something to be said for experience. So, sure, I had no idea the Trashcan Sinatras--a band I vaguely associate with the early '90s--were still around, but the fact that they are means that when they want to, the Scottish quintet can sound like this: crystal-clear, swaggery-assured, and quirky-pop-gorgeous. After making a minor splash with their debut CD, Cake, in 1990 (not to be confused with the band Cake, which I'll admit I've done)(or Sea and the Cake, for that matter), they proceeded to lie low through most of the decade, releasing only two other CDs, in 1993 and 1996, before re-emerging with Weightlifting (Spin Art Records) last month. Biding their time may have made sense, since their shiny, well-crafted, jangly Brit-pop is much more aligned (praise the lord) with the current music scene than it was in the middle '90s. I love this song's offbeat drive, an effect amplified by the insertion of two extra beats at the end of each verse. The chorus, for its part, acquires a keen hook simply by modulating through three great chords, underscored by a wall of full-tilt, almost Edge-like electric guitar. I like how even in a short (2:24) song, they let the guitar open out into a sly, wailing solo that might be mistaken for a heavy metal cliche if you don't listen closely. Vocalist Frank Reader (brother of the marvelous Eddi Reader) has an open quality to his voice that brings you back in time, managing to sound yearning without any over-acting. The song opens Weightlifting; the MP3 can be found on Filter Magazine.

"Isn't the Sun" - Cordalene
On the heels of last week's wonderful Paul Westerberg song comes another faux-'60s piece of perfect, slightly skewed pop, this from a little-known Philadelphia band. I'm loving the way the intro takes a bass line as old as the '50s and segues it into an itchy guitar riff, and that's really what makes the song so spiffy all the way through--that dusty bass line keeps knocking against the itchy guitars, and when they settle in together in the chorus with a kick that is somehow almost (but not really) swing-like, the result is all but swoon-full. Halfway through, the instrumental section works this out in a particularly charming way, as the guitar itself does a squonky riff on the bass melody. But I think my favorite moment of all is a lyrical one, when Mike Kiley (who's got a really nice power-pop voice by the way) sings, "And she looked at me with a breathtaking stare," breaking up "breath" and "taking" so resolutely as to give new shades of meaning to the word. The song comes from a release known simply as The Red EP; the MP3 is on the band's web site. Thanks again to Oddio Overplay for the head's up.

"Retour A Vega" - the Stills
I find this irresistible: the acoustic-guitar driven minor key beat, the tasteful use of violins, the French lyrics, and then, putting it completely over the top for me, the octave harmonies. Gotta love the octave harmonies. They were a great pop weapon in Squeeze's arsenal, and with the Kinks before that. As if this weren't enough, there's a crunchy little electric guitar bit in the middle. Put this on in the background with a crowd of people and everyone will start to smile without knowing why. Better yet, be the owner of a small record store, put it on with a store full of customers, and see how many people (remember that scene in High Fidelity with the Beta Band song?) come up and ask about it and buy the CD. The CD in question, by the way, is the soundtrack to the movie Wicker Park, and while I can't say anything about the movie itself (doesn't look like one I'm heading quickly to see), the soundtrack has a positively "ooh! pick me, pick me!" sensibility in terms of seeking to appear very of-the-moment in an almost-but-not-quite mainstream way. (Think Singles soundtrack, back in the early '90s.) In addition to the Stills, this one has the Shins, Death Cab for Cutie, Mates of State, and Stereophonics, among others. The MP3 comes courtesy of Vice Records.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of Sept. 5-11

"As Far As I Know" - Paul Westerberg
Last heard channeling Keith Richards, Paul Westerberg is back wearing Beatle-ier clothing this time. What at first sounded to me like a competent bit of neo-McCartney-ism has revealed itself, after three or four listens, to be a deeply endearing pop song. The charm is all around the edges: the ringing guitars offset by a ragged wash of fuzz; the '60s-perfect melody deconstructed by Westerberg's exquisitely unpolished voice; the whole thing driven by an earnest drumbeat as relentless as it is borderline goofy. And you want to hear subtle? Listen to the chords he works up to during that distinct, repeated melody featured near the end of each verse. In the introductory section, with just the guitar playing, the words are "that doesn't get kissed, that doesn't exist"; the second time we get to that point he's backed by the full band and sings "that never took place, that's easy to trace." Now listen as he's there the third time, singing "that doesn't resist, that doesn't exist," this time with a wondrous, elusive chord progression that augments the unfolding poignancy of the lyrics. At the same time, the song's ramshackle momentum has by now become utterly infectious, its tumbling percussiveness revealing a refreshing, solidly human presence in this age of loops and programs. The lyrics build to reinforce the impression, closing with: "I'm in love with a dream I had as a kid/I wait up the street until you show/That dream it came true/But you never do, no you never did/As far as I know." The song is on Westerberg's new album Folker, due out tomorrow on Vagrant Records.

"From the Station" - Soltero
Neil Young meets Elliott Smith meets the Kinks in this loping, loopy, quick-pulsed ballad. I like how the song starts right in, both musically and lyrically; I like even more how it keeps going: "From the Station" features an unusually long melody line, fully 16 measures (actually 14 in the first verse, then 16 in the other two). Most pop songs give out at eight measures, and lots of these only survive that long with a good amount of internal repetition, with measures three and five mimicking measure one, for instance. Here the melody descends and extends, aided marvelously by singer/songwriter/guitarist Tim Howard's appealing, high-pitched vocals, ghostly organ flourishes, and tasteful guitar distortions. While the Boston-based Howard does play all the instruments on this track, Soltero is in fact a four-piece band. They just haven't recorded a full-band album yet; previous Soltero releases (beginning with 2001's wonderfully titled Science Will Figure You Out) have been largely Howard's work. "From the Station" will be on the next Soltero CD, entitled Hell Train, to be released later this year. The MP3 is on the band's web site.

"Ugly Man" - Rickie Lee Jones
A jazzy shuffle, leisurely melody, and layered harmonies disguise an almost painfully personal protest song. Never mind the specifics of policies and decisions, Rickie Lee slices to the heart of the matter, which is GWB's inability to access his own (heart, that is). Maybe, like the Tin Man, he simply doesn't realize he has one. Look: thousands of years of human culture and spiritual wisdom tell us what living and acting from a heart-based center entails, and it has little to do with the appointed president's resolute disinterest in learning and growing as an adult human being, never mind his crippling inability to connect to the entirety of humanity rather than simply those similarly uninterested in learning and growing. "Ugly Man" comes from Rickie Lee's most recent CD, The Evening of My Best Day, which was released last year on V2 Records. The MP3 can be found for free on Salon, where Thomas Bartlett last week did a wonderful, Republican National Convention-inspired job gathering free and legal protest songs from a wide variety of notable artists. (As with most content on Salon, you'll have to watch a short commercial before being able to access this page, unless you are already a subscriber or decide on the spot to subscribe.)

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of August 29-Sept. 4

(Back from vacation, Fingertips is going live a few days early, in anticipation of another brief stint out of the office. Things should be back to normal for the Sept. 5-11 edition, and from that point onward into the--yikes--autumn.)

"Forces Regrouping" - the iOs
Resplendent neo-'80s pop with subtle bursts of warmth and charm in just about every line. After an ambiguous opening measure or two of vibrating synthesizer, the song quickly engages me with its sly juxtaposition of garage-like rhythm guitars and new wave-ish electronics in the introduction. This surely isn't your father's '80s music. I'm already won over when guitarist Chris Punsalan brings his agreeably buzzy voice to a neat, playful melody; that he is echoed in the second half of the verse, call-and-response-ishly, by keyboardist Autumn Proemm's dreamy background vocals clinches the deal. I like this. But the best is yet to come, and it's here: when the song goes into a stop-start section bridging the verse and the chorus (beginning with "And I could make it up to you"); the tension builds as melodic synthesizers play against a dark, fuzzed-up guitar; and then (wow) it breaks gloriously wide open as the song's killer hook appears out of left field--the sneaky resolution of the "Look for a sign" section, full-ahead tempo returning with a lovely melody, and Punsalan and Proemm briefly but effectively singing directly together, taking my breath at least somewhat away. Great new pop from a young NYC band. The song is one of three on the iOs' first release, an EP called Center and Stop; the MP3 is on the band's web site.

"Uptight" - Julian Cope
Every musical generation needs its own mad-genius-one-man-band-recluse, and Julian Cope will do nicely for the new wavers who came of age in the late 1970s. Making a name for himself as the leader of The Teardrop Explodes, Cope went on to a certain amount of success in the '80s as a solo artist, but it was all in and around a lot of weirdness, some drug-induced, some just natural for the eclectic Cope. The '90s saw him out of the mainstream pretty much entirely, yet as active as ever on a number of fronts, including writing his memoirs and founding his own mail-order record label. Currently he's spending time in a band called Brain Donor, and any band that can record an album entitled Too Freud to Rock'n'Roll, Too Jung to Die can't be all bad. So, anyway: "Uptight." It's a song from the early '90s that never made it onto any of his albums, and it's a nice if lightweight example of Cope at his most Peter Gabriel-mellow-funky. A brief pastoral-like bit of Chinese music at the outset leads to a relaxed but definitive groove, and when Cope opens his mouth you are his, so much beautiful authority does he carry in that voice. The whistled refrain in the second half saves the enterprise from floating away perhaps a bit too inconsequentially. The MP3 is on Cope's Head Heritage web site, his online musical community/record label. Thanks to Oddio Overplay for the lead.

"Pale Horse" - John Vanderslice
Another rich offering from the magnificent Mr. Vanderslice. Like "They Won't Let Me Run," this one comes from his powerful Cellar Door CD, released in January on Barsuk Records. When I first heard the two songs online in February, I latched onto the other, but after (finally) buying Cellar Door (see? it works!: post high-quality, full-length songs for free on the web and it'll convince me to buy the CD! how about that?), I find myself in thrall to the serious charms of this literally off-beat tune. The lyrics are derived from Shelley's "The Mask of Anarchy," the music is all Vanderslice: assured rhythm, impeccable melody, casually expert producion touches, all wrapped in a glistening 6/4 shuffle. This guy is serious, and yet almost impossibly accessible for such an independent spirit. Check him out, and tell your friends. He really deserves a much much wider audience. The MP3 comes from Vanderslice's web site.


Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of August 8-14

It's that time of year again: Fingertips will be on vacation for most of the rest of August. "This Week's Finds" will return for the week of August 29-Sept. 4. Actually, Fingertips will be back a few days early, so the Aug. 29 "This Week's Finds" will probably be up by Thursday August 26 or so.

I may personally be on vacation but remember that there is a huge amount of free and legal music waiting to be explored via other pages here on Fingertips. Good places to start are the Music Site Guide and the Artist Index; if you're adventurous, you might check out the Smaller Labels page and the Minor Hubs page as well. All these pages will point you to places on the web where good free and legal music is likely to be found. If you do, in fact, come across anything great along the way, drop me a line. You may discover a future "Find," and the world will be a brighter, more connected place.

Okay, now to this week's songs:

"I'm Happy But You Don't Like Me" - Asobi Seksu
Three minutes and nine seconds of giddy neo-new wave bliss. The melody is Blondie perfect; combine that with the band's capacity to unleash some serious but disciplined guitar noise and I'm all but swooning. Lead singer Yuki's innocent breathiness adds to the glory of a song that sounds to me like the bright flip side of one of the new wave's greatest singles, the bleak but invincible "Enola Gay," from Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. Asobi Seksu is a NYC-based band that offers songs in both English and Japanese, but prior understanding of Japanese is not required to enjoy this awesome piece of pop. "I'm Happy But..." comes from the band's debut, self-titled CD, which was released on Friendly Fire Recordings in May. You'll find the MP3 on the band's web site.

"Veda's Waltz - Christine Fellows
The label "chamber pop" has been floating around for the better part of a decade, and is typically used to refer to music made by indie bands which have incorporated traditional stringed instruments (e.g. violin or cello) into their sound. Normally the label seems to miss the mark (and often has the air of gimmickry about it) but in the case of Christine Fellows, the shoe fits agreeably: "Veda's Waltz" sounds like nothing so much as a pop song peformed by a small chamber ensemble, if that were something small chamber ensembles usually did. What makes it work, to me, is Fellows' strikingly immediate voice. Stripped of all pretense, her voice is underscored by the same sort of ineffable ache that characterizes the sound of the instruments she is singing with; she blends beautifully, gratifyingly with them--gratifying because I have never believed one has to sing like an opera singer to perform with "classical" instruments, even though that's been the presumption for, oh, a few hundred years or so at this point. Another engaging, idiosyncratic musician from Canada, Fellows was in a couple of bands in the '90s before striking out on her own, first with an album called 2 little birds in 2000 and then The Last One Standing in 2002, on which "Veda's Waltz" is found. The MP3 is on her web site.

"The Long Distance Four" - the Constantines
From the first note, the electric guitar here says "pay attention to this," and yet, how, exactly, is this achieved? I find it difficult to articulate (writing about music remains a basically ridiculous idea), but it's a two-guitar sound that rejects classic-rock, guitar-hero fire for a clipped, urgent riff below, accompanied by open-chorded harmonics above. Bringing Television to mind, it's a sound that puts you on call, and on edge, and then along comes lead singer Bryan Webb, sounding for all the world like Joe Strummer's Canadian cousin, with the late Clash leader's endearingly husky, offhanded capacity to carry a tune and his knack for spitting out startling, unexpected lyrics ("Collect the body of Isadora Duncan"??). Now I'm definitely paying attention, and I'm liking what I hear a lot. "The Long Distance Four" comes from the Constantines' first full-length CD, a self-titled disc released originally in 2001, and just re-issued by Sub Pop.


Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of August 1-7

"Whiskey Tango" - Tanya Donelly
Slinky and acoustic, "Whiskey Tango" shows off Tanya Donelly's rich, elastic voice and subtle facility with melody in a quiet and simplified setting. It's a new direction for the former leader of the band Belly, whose songs have not lacked for crunch, drive, and electricity in the past. On "Whiskey Tango," the under-appreciated Donelly looks for texture in smaller gestures--a slide guitar here, a wood block there--and brings her world-weary lyrics ("Of the art of making waves/I've had my lesson in spades") front and center. The song is as quiet as its implied tango beat, and might float by unnoticed were it not for the aching dignity of its minimal but lovely chorus--Donelly's use of a seventh chord and the elegant progression out of it when she sings "Of the art of speaking plain..." gives "Whiskey Tango" a small but powerful hook. The song is the effectual title track from her just-released Whiskey Tango Ghosts (4AD Records); the MP3 can be found on Insound.

"Gonna Never Have to Die" - Guided By Voices
The air of timeless rock'n'roll hangs brilliantly around this song, from Robert Pollard's Pete Townshend-like vocals to the old-fashioned drive of its big, snare-less beat and simple harmonies, to something at once larger and less definable in its deep and well-crafted ambiance. After a simple, itchy bit of acoustic guitar, the song grabs me instantly with the way each line in the first verse begins with one syllable drawn out over five distinct notes, complete with a wonderful, syncopated sort of hestiation in the middle. Okay, so it's kind of harder to describe in words than to listen to, but it creates an almost transcendent sort of wonder right smack in the middle of the action. There's even a counter-balancing resolution at the end of each line in the chorus, when, again, one syllable is stretched over five distinct notes, this time a simple back-and-forth between two tones. Yeah, like I said, harder to describe than to listen to. "Gonna Never Have to Die" is a song from Guided By Voices' soon-to-be-released CD, entitled Half Smiles of the Decomposed (Matador Records). After 20 some-odd releases spanning 17 years, Half Smiles will be GBV's last album--and therefore something of a momentous event in the indie world. And yet at the same time, leader Pollard has put the band through so many incarnations that it's safe to say that as long as Pollard continues to record, GBV fans will have a lot to look forward to.

"Verandi" - Björk
Mysterious, hypnotic, and bizarrely endearing, as Björk just about always is. "Verandi" combines the exotic ambiance and expansive percussiveness typical of 1997's Homogenic with a hint of the intimate sonic touches and gentle melodicism of 2001's Vespertine. I like how the almost martial regularity of the beat provides unexpected comfort through the aural adventure that unfolds here. Some of the non-Western-ness on display stems from work done on the song by "Bollywood" composer Jolly Mukherjee, but with Björk, a musical universe unto herself, you never know quite from where the unearthliness radiates. And what does it all mean? With Björk, you just don't ask. Bask in the sound of it, thrill to the countless moments of offbeat beauty, and be happy that she, at least, knows what she's doing. "Verandi" was originally released as a B-side to "Hidden Places," from Vespertine; the MP3 is on Bjork's jam-packed web site. Thanks to Fat Planet for the heads up on this one; the Björk site is so overflowing with words and links that I never previously noticed she had any MP3s up there at all.


Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of July 25-31

"The Rat" - The Walkmen
Brash and big and all but irresistible right out of the starting gate, from that first, fuzzy, unresolved chord, through the huge drum beats and the minor chord progressions, and that's even before the first verse kicks in. These guys just don't hold anything back, and the sonic result is exhilarating, combining the twitchy rawness of the Strokes with the aching spaciousness of early U2 and the artful drive of New Order. Singer Hamilton Leithauser sings with a hoarse edge, as if he's already overdone it and should be resting his voice already but forget about it, he's got this song to sing first, dammit. The Walkmen are from Washington, D.C. and have apparently been playing in bands together since the fifth grade. "The Rat" comes from their second CD, Bows + Arrows, released in February on the Record Collection imprint, which does its best to look like a quirky, independent label but is actually part of Warner Brothers. But I'm not complaining--more big labels should offer offbeat acts like Record Collection does, along with (heaven forbid!) free and legal MP3s. Back in the day, all we had more or less were the big boys to find our music for us, and they sometimes did a decent job. Times have changed, but good music is still good music.

"London" - Red Pony
While I am not a big fan of overly indie sounds, and am downright suspicious of lo-fi recordings, I find this song oddly endearing. Part of the appeal is the piano motif at the beginning; there's something about its plaintive melodicism that I will gladly follow anywhere. The vocals are simple to the point of naivete, the guitar tinny, the sound garage-y, and yet at the same time I hear in it a vitality and urgency that brings me back to great singles that used to emerge from the U.K. in the late '70s, each its own mini-universe of hopes, dreams, and vision. Red Pony is a bass-less three-piece band from Cardiff, Wales. They are label-less, also; "London" can be found on the band's web site.

"Far End of the Night" - Grant Lee Phillips
And then sometimes this is exactly the sound I want to hear: deep, polished, and timeless. Phillips, the driving force behind the '90s band Grant Lee Buffalo, has a knack for writing new melodies that you're sure you must've heard before, sings them in an arrestingly familiar voice, and wraps them in an exquisite acoustic setting. Phillips is also as skilled as an ancient troubadour at telling a sad tale with a gorgeous tune: while the music is lullaby-gentle, the vague story sketched is a foreboding one, evoking a journey through a dark, enveloping night in which, sings the story's narrator, "Time hangs like a noose before me." "Far End of the Night" can be found on Virginia Creeper, released earlier this year on Zoe Records; the MP3 is located on the SXSW.com site.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option; click here for more information.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of July 18-24

"The Wait" - the Pieces
I'm beginning to think that every city in the United States has its own version of the Fountains of Wayne, its own smart, history-savvy rock band ready to offer catchy, guitar-based pop to a world rather starved for the stuff. The Pieces appear to be Indianapolis's entry in the game, and a smart, savvy entry they are. While not as giddily brilliant as Fountains of Wayne at their best (e.g. "Mexican Wine," "Red Dragon Tattoo," "Radiation Vibe"), "The Wait" is a fine little tune with any number of nuggets of pleasure to enjoy along the way. Right off I love the tumble of chords that are packed together in the introduction, and how they settle on the actual key through the musical side door. The melody has the inevitable touch of Beatle-ish-ness to it, an effect augmented by guitarist/singer/songwriter Vess (?) Ruhtenberg's quasi-Lennonesque voice. I also like how the band incorporates bassist Heidi Gluck's vocals into the sound, something that stands them apart from forebears such as Big Star and the dBs, not to mention the Beatles; come to think of it, there aren't a whole lot of power pop bands featuring male-female harmonies. The moment in the middle where Gluck comes to the fore on the line "This is the part I hate" is a small but wonderful touch. (Gluck apparently sings lead occasionally as well.) "The Wait" can be found on the band's self-titled debut CD, released last year on Benchmark Records. The MP3 comes from the Benchmark Records web site.

"Silence" - Kate Earl
A little bit Dusty Springfield, a little bit Ricki Lee Jones, newcomer Kate Earl exhibits a good deal of something else all her own on this haunting bit of retro-soul (blue-eyed variety). Earl creates a masterful, unabashed Dusty in Memphis vibe (the strings! the flute!), but infused with an engaging sense of innocence, intimacy, and spontaneity. I fear the MP3 itself is a bit cloudy, sound-wise (although maybe it's just my overtaxed, six-year-old computer), but the song is still worth hearing. Born in Alaska, living now in California, Earl is slated to release a CD on the Santa Monica-based label Record Collection some time in the presumably near future, presumably featuring this song; the MP3 in the meantime can can be found on Earl's web site. Thanks yet again to Largehearted Boy for the lead.

"You Only Move Twice" - Jeniferever
A Swedish band with a penchant for long, spacious songs, Jeniferever appears to be inspired partly by the grand, spacey Icelandic band Sigur Ros and partly by the more structured, instrument-based spaciness of Radiohead or even Wilco. One of only four songs on the 37-minute EP Iris, "You Only Move Twice" is propelled by a harmonic-laced riff, a fractured sense of time and beat, and singer Kristofer's ragged-weary-breathy vocals. The song has a cool enough vibe to keep me engaged for a quite a while, but then really hooks me with an unexpected turn of events about four minutes in, when the vocals drop away, the underlying syncopated beat is stripped down and brought forward, and, then, almost gloriously, an array of real instruments, including horns and strings, are added to the mix, beautifully accentuating the unusual chords and intervals that have characterized the song all along. Then the instruments pull away with a melancholy bit of reverb and the song finishes with another unexpected turn--this time a string coda, which again displays the rather charming musicality of the band in a different setting. Iris was released this month on Big Scary Monster Records, a tiny London-based label. The MP3 comes from the band's site, and can also be found on Drowned in Sound.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 a year as an affordable option; click here for more information.
 

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of July 11-17

"Nowhere Again" - The Secret Machines
Itchy, driving, and full-bodied, "Nowhere Again" combines the melodrama of the more-influential-than-anyone-realized-they-would-be-at-the-time Echo & the Bunnymen with a 21st-century blast of danceable drone. Okay, so maybe they lifted part of the melody (consciously or not) from the old Kinks nugget "Lola"--what the heck, there are worse starting places, and the song proceeds in other directions before it's through. "Nowhere Again" creates some of its sonic interest by juxtaposing full-speed and half-speed tempos--in particular offering verses at full-speed, the chorus at half-speed, all against a constant, insistent beat. Not a huge innovation, but it does give the impression of texture when the chords aren't changing all that much. Likewise helpful are the half-speed piano and guitar flourishes that arrive in the second verse. Singer and guitarist Ben Curtis has a subtle, appealing rumble to his voice in the lower register, an anthemic edge to his upper register singing, and a knack for highlighting stark lyrical phrases along the way. The Secret Machines were assembled in Dallas but have since generated much buzz in their adopted hometown of New York City. "Nowhere Again" comes from the band's debut CD, Now Here is Nowhere, released in May on Reprise Records (that's how much buzz they generated--they're actually on a major label). The MP3 can be found on Epitonic.

"Sleeping and Tooting" - Rachel Goswell
The highly-regarded but spotlight-avoiding Rachel Goswell gained fans as the voice of the woozily atmospheric Slowdive in the early '90s. When she joined bandmates Neil Halstead and Ian McCutcheon as they morphed into the British-yet-alt-country-ish Mojave 3 in 1996, Goswell retreated to the background, playing bass and singing mostly background vocals as songwriter Halstead took the reins as lead singer. Those who have missed her vocal presence on recent Mojave 3 records will no doubt rejoice at the recent release of her first solo CD, Waves Are Universal (4AD Records), from which this song comes. Although crisp and upbeat, "Sleeping and Tooting" has an engaging air of bittersweetness about it thanks to its repeated use of minor key modulations. Goswell's airy yet well-rounded voice brings to mind the late, great Kirsty MacColl, which is always a plus in my mind. The song is so full of bright-sounding acoustic instruments and engaging production touches that I willingly overlook its lack of a center--there's no meaty chorus here to anchor things musically; I find the song scoots by (it's just three minutes) without completely sinking in. But maybe that's just me; in any case there are plenty of charms here to make it worth a listen. The American arm of the Beggars Group, which distributes 4AD Records, hosts the MP3.

"Habite Em Mim" - Arto Lindsay
Once a prominent figure on New York's so-called "No Wave" scene of the late '70s, guitarist/producer Arto Lindsay here issues an alluring bit of Brazilian-tinged, jazz-inflected, street-wise pop. Lindsay's voice is smooth and seductive enough to distract your ear from the vibrant grab-bag of rhythms, competing tones, and sly sonic effects that are going on throughout the song, even as the effects are ultimately what give "Habite Em Mim" its oomph. Heck, I barely notice that he's slipping back and forth from English to Portuguese, which is a pretty captivating effect itself. "Habite Em Mim" is found on Salt, released in May on Ani DiFranco's Righteous Babe Records; the MP3 comes from Indie Workshop.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of July 4-10

"When the Day is Short" - Martha Wainwright
Brother of Rufus, daughter of Kate (McGarrigle) and Loudon (III), 28-year-old Martha Wainwright has played largely to the side and behind the scenes over the years, singing background vocals on albums by her better-known family members--starting with an appearance as a child on Kate & Anna McGarrigle's 1983 CD Love Over and Over. As it turns out, however, Martha is a singer/songwriter of spirit and intensity in her own right. While her voice has an appealing McGarrigle-ish waver to it, she sings way closer to the edge than her mother and aunt do, sometimes leaving me breathless at the aural risks she takes. I've been waiting to hear more since being captivated by her haunting "Year of the Dragon" on the family-filled McGarrigle Hour CD, released back in 1998. "When the Day is Short" has a lilting beat that belies Wainwright's not fully restrained vocal and lyrical furiosity. The song comes from a recently-released five-song EP (her third) with the eye-opening, R-rated title (which I will partially disguise, in case anyone might be reading this in a setting where such words might be less than appropriate) Bloody Moth--f--king As--ole; the MP3 is located on Wainwright's web site. I should note that the title track, called simply "BMFA," is well worth hearing, and is also available as an MP3; I chose "When the Day is Short" largely to avoid putting Fingertips visitors in an uncomfortable position should they be playing this page in a less than private setting.

"Seems to Me" - Surefire
While the production values are indie through and through, the resilient pop virtues of the songwriting here give this one a gratifying sheen and powerful presence. After a few measures of ringing arpeggios, the song hits upon a simple but memorable guitar riff; combine that with the minor-key twist of the Byrds-like melody and I feel gripped and ready for a big melodic payoff. But even as the verse drives forward, the apparent chorus doesn't quite resolve before the song pulls back. Rather than a payoff the song creates a sneaky sort tension, which is extended after the second verse and chorus by a short instrumental break, followed by a restrained bridge, and then, finally, and well worth the wait, the release: a series of wordless, syncopated, interwoven "oh-oh"s arrive to echo the opening guitar riff. While I'm not always a fan of falsetto singing, the way lead singer Ben Stapelman flits in and out of falsetto as the wordless section repeats against increasingly insistent instrumentation is what gives this assured piece of pop its heart, soul, and dynamic core. Surefire is a NYC-based band; "Seems to Me" comes from its debut EP, Solution. The MP3 can be found on the band's web site. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for finding this one.

"On Your Way" - the Album Leaf
I like how this song manages to sound both dreamy and grounded at the same time. Part of the effect is achieved through the use of octave harmonies--ah, yes, more falsetto vocals (did I say I didn't like them?); when paired with lower-register vocals singing the same notes, the result is captivating. Then there's the way the tinkly, almost desultory bell-like sounds at the aural top of the song work together with a determined and likable drumbeat below. Finally, note how Jimmy LaValle, the multi-instrumentalist who records as the Album Leaf, mixes an extremely reverb-y synthesizer and melodic bassline into the middle of the sound, out of which both the vocals and percussion emerge, dreamily. And yet grounded. "On Your Way" can be found on the Album Leaf's recently released CD, In a Safe Place. This is LaValle's second Album Leaf record, but the first one with any vocals--his previous effort was all instrumental. Although from Southern California, LaValle went to Iceland to record the CD, employing musicians from Sigur Rós and other Icelandic bands to help him achieve his atmospheric sound. The MP3 can be found on the Sub Pop Records site.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of June 27-July 3


"It Doesn't Really Matter" - For Stars
A simple piano refrain over a racing heart-like beat starts "It Doesn't Really Matter" with a thematically appropriate sense of unresolved tension. I mean, the whole idea of singing about something that doesn't really matter is a sort of paradox, if you're inclined to think in that direction. So, okay, the piano, the vague tension, and then comes Carlos Foster's distinctively fragile tenor, punctuated by crisp, vaguely dissonant electric guitar bursts; the tension accumulates even lyrically, as the first verse culminates with a thought-provoking line--"It doesn't really matter who you think you are"--that resolves neither melodically nor psychologically. The payoff comes in the chorus, as the guitar becomes a wash of noise under gratifying harmonies and a perfectly resolved melody. A trumpet arrives to add a gentle edge to the restrained instrumental break, then we're back to a quick verse, this time fleshed out with harmonies, still over the heartbeat beat. One more exultant chorus, a second trumpet solo, and we're done. Nice stuff. And I'm glad to see For Stars are still around; it's been long enough since their last CD that I'd been wondering if they existed any more. The song comes from the CD ...It Falls Apart, due out June 29 on the label known as Future Farmer Recordings. The MP3 can be found on Insound.

"Welcome to the Middle Ages" - the Playwrights
As hard and fast and angry and assured as an old Jam song, "Welcome to the Middle Ages" finds a new generation pondering the trade-offs of adulthood, with intelligence and venom. The introduction is simply a fade-in on a fuzzy electric din; then with a curt "one-two," the Playwrights dive in: vocals with declarative authority burst on top of a hard-driving, bass-heavy beat. The song rocks hard, instantly, but the 6/4 time keeps things jittery, and the unexpected instrumentation--hey, another trumpet in this one--and subtle changes keep your ear engaged. The lyrics are charmingly wordy; again the Jam come to mind when I hear singer Aaron Dewey spitting out more syllables than the line theoretically wants to have ("As I get older my conditions get better/But my expectations get lower..."). Located in Bristol, England, the Playwrights have one full-length CD to their name so far--Good Beneath the Radar, which was released in June 2003 by the Bristol-based Sink and Stove Records. "Welcome to the Middle Ages" comes from a Sink and Stove compilation CD called The Hospital Radio Request List Volume 2, which came out in the beginning of June 2004. The MP3 can be found on the band's site, as well as on the Sink and Stove site.

"Hungry Heart" - Jesse Malin
There's a good song from Jesse Malin's new CD that I've heard a few times on the radio. So of course I went hunting for a free and legal from the album, which alas don't appear to exist. While looking on his site, however, I found "Hungry Heart," and at the risk of turning this into Fragile-Sounding Tenors Week here (see For Stars, above), I could not resist featuring this one as well. Yes it's the old Bruce Springsteen song, but Malin grabs it by the throat (or maybe that's his own throat he's grabbing; he sounds like he's nearly strangling with odd pronunciations every now and then) and makes it his own. To begin with, he reins in the big, bashing, irresistible beat of the original, stretching it taut and slowing it down against a fuzzed-out guitar. Then Malin takes the aw-shucks, Everyman ache of Springsteen's version and gives us a Neil Young-meets-Brian-Wilson-at-Tom-Waits'-house vibe. With Springsteen, it was sloppy-goofy; Malin makes it weird-goofy, but I'm not complaining. Perhaps I'm rather too easily impressed when someone takes a familiar song and adds an edge of unfamiliarity to it, but I'm enjoying this. The song was released on a Bruce Springsteen tribute CD compiled by the British magazine Uncut in April 2003.

Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 or $10 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of June 20-26

"Year of the Rat" - Badly Drawn Boy
Woolly-hatted one-man-band Damon Gough returns to the do-it-yourself orchestral style that lent his first CD, The Hour of Bewilderbeast, its distinctive allure. Not that this sound doesn't have its share of potential pitfalls. I mean, add kettle drums to anyone this earnest and he runs the risk of sounding, shall we say, bombastic. And let's not even talk about the children's choir in the chorus. But BDB wins out here, I think, through sheer force of good will. Good will counts for a lot these days, as there is so blessed little of it to go around--or, more accurately, the people who have it are so rarely given a voice in popular culture. So, yeah, the tune is pretty simple, and the sentiments are pretty corny, but it sticks in my head, and I don't mind it hanging out there. Plus, I get the sense, like with Bewilderbeast, that this song is going to be an idiosyncratic part of an idiosyncratic whole, so much so that taking it out of context probably involves missing a certain amount of its effect. According to the Chinese zodiac, by the way, it is not the actual year of the rat, so I'm thinking he's making a political statement, telling us hey, buck up, stick together, we'll get through ("One plus one is one," he sings; and that's the name of the CD as well). So the slacker dude in the hat turns out to be one big Harry Nilsson-ish cornball, and I say good for him. The CD, on BDB's own Twisted Nerve label, released through XL Recordings and Astralwerks, is due out June 21. The MP3 comes from BDB's web site.

"On the Green" - I Love Math"
The song opens with a fuzzy, automated-sounding rhythm sound that goes on perhaps a little too long--I'm thinking "all right already" when I first hear it--and then, bang, the drum enters off the beat of the automated-sounding rhythm thing, incorporating it in an unanticipated manner. Soon enter guitar, bass, and harmonica, and we're suddenly in the middle of a home-spun, alt-country-tinged indie pop-rocker. What gives the song such presence, to me, are the extra melodic steps the music takes both in the verse and the chorus. Listen to how the verse doesn't just stick with the simple, repeated melody from the first two lines (as many songs might) but adds an asymmetrical line that gives the verse a chance to explore a few extra chords before heading back to the beginning. A similar moment of spiffy modulation happens towards the end of the chorus as well--and don't miss how the band extends this moment the second time the chorus comes around. We're not talking profound accomplishment here, but the great good melodic energy and vocal charm on display here make this song a keeper. I can find little proof of this group's existence except on the SXSW.com web site, where you'll find this MP3. There it says: "I Love Math is John and Jason from The Deathray Davies, Philip Peoples from the Old 97's and Aaron Kelly who is just a badass."

"Miracle Drug" - A. C. Newman
Okay, so speaking of Ray Davies (sort of), my goodness, Carl Newman could've been understudy for Mr. Davies on the Sleepwalker sessions. Only I don't imagine Newman was even alive in 1977, when the Kinks released that album. Minor detail. In any case, not only does Newman's appealingly nasal upper-register singing pay deep homage to Davies, the staccato crunch of the guitar has its own sort of Kink-iness to it as well. "Miracle Drug" isn't actually that much of a song; the chorus is just one line long (interestingly enough, he sounds rather a lot like John Lennon during this part), and the verses succeed more on the jumpy charm of the guitar-vocal interplay (and of course Newman's Ray Davies-ness) than on the breadth or depth of the songwriting, but hey it's summertime--short and catchy is just fine. And, as previously noted here, current rock'n'rollers who love and respect the Kinks gain a fair amount of love and respect on Fingertips from the get-go. "Miracle Drug" is found on Newman's first solo CD, Slow Wonder, released earlier this month on Matador Records. Newman is otherwise known for being the leader of the Canadian band the New Pornographers. The MP3 comes from the Matador Records web site.


Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of June 13-19

"Discretion" - Pedro the Lion
David Bazan, Pedro the Lion's mastermind (on some albums he's the whole band), has a brilliant rock'n'roll voice, burnished by what sounds like an unalleviatable ache. This is a voice that says, "I'm going to tell you a sad story and you're going to listen." Here, an incisive, bell-like guitar line propels a tragedy I can't completely decipher--but any song that starts with the line "Having no idea that his youngest son was dead/The farmer and his sweet young wife slept soundly in his bed" is not heading to a happy place. And yet the song has such presence and verve--Bazan writes long melodies, offers gratifying chord changes, and sings from his soul--that it feels stirring and heroic nonetheless. "Discretion" can be found on Pedro the Lion's recently released fifth CD, Achilles Heel (Jade Tree). The MP3 is available on the band's site.

"Captain" - Shapes of Race Cars
You could do worse than blast this song from your car's sound system with the top down all summer long. Provided it doesn't rain. And provided you have a convertible. But you get the idea: this here is a big, bashing dollop of tuneful, hard-driving, summer-anthemy energy. Shapes of Race Cars may be a new band, but the fact that they describe themselves as a "power trio" tells me what I need to know. It takes a certain amount of heart and guts to hit the rock scene with just guitar, bass, and drums: there's no room to hide, no aural space for mushiness or lack of clarity. What's more, these guys take what could've been an effective two and a half minute ditty and open it skillfully into an engaging four and a half minute mini-epic, thanks largely to an instrumental break that starts about two minutes in. Sailing out of chorus harmonies at that point, the song pulls back instrumentally, singer/guitarist Dylan Callaghan turns a high note into a thoughtful couple of "doo-ooo"s which are are mimicked on the guitar, launching a well-crafted, melodic solo that evokes nameless, bygone moments in rock history through both sound and gusto. "Captain" is one of six songs on a new, self-released EP called Apocalypse Hurts; the MP3 is on the band's web site. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the heads up.

"Airstream" - Low-Beam
Vaguely off-key keyboards (off-keyboards?) lend an appealing goofiness at the outset, but when the joint male/female lead vocals kick in, "Airstream" takes off, steadily acquiring an unexpected sort of classic majesty, like some great lost late '70s nugget--"Roadrunner" meets "I Zimbra" meets four 21st-century believers from New London, Connecticut. The repetitive, circular melody works in tandem with the driving rhythm and fuzzy-around-the-edges soundscape to create an inexplicably catchy song--its own sort of cruising with the top down summer song, come to think of it. And fans of unexpected instrumental entrances will no doubt appreciate the muted trumpet that wanders in during the last 50 seconds of this one. The band aims for an admirable sense of cohesiveness both musically and thematically; I like this explanation of the name, from the band's web site: "Low-beaming is night-driving along the river road on the long way there, navigating by moonlight, almost into the river sometimes. Or out to the lake in a traveling party and shutting the lights off behind the lead car. And full moon motorcycling through the woods, the visual soundtrack equivalent to a CCR song or maybe Elvis in the ghetto." "Airstream" was first released on a vinyl single in September 2003, then emerged on a six-song EP called Every Other Moment in March of this year; the MP3 is on the band's site. A full-length CD is in the works.


Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of June 6-12

"The Letter" - PJ Harvey
Energized by its ragged, syncopated beat, "The Letter" shows me within a measure or two that maybe, just maybe, I've been listening to a bit too much indie rock of late. Harvey's raw yet radiant assurance enlivens the music with a rich texture unlikely to be encountered in the lo-fi indie world. One of the most critically acclaimed singer/songwriters to come of age in the the midst of the "alternative rock" eruption of the early '90s, Harvey is back with her seventh CD, the just-released Uh Huh Her, on Island Records. The deep, fuzzy guitar that lends the song its arresting groove all but hypnotizes me even as Harvey's words--emerging in bursts between the guitar's funky drive--snap me to attention, as she effortlessly charges the act of letter-writing with brash eroticism, before resolving into cathartic wailing in the wordless chorus section. Listen to how she enriches the sound in the second verse, as the guitar is supplemented by a mysterious-sounding low-register vocal below and a judiciously added synthesizer above. Unfortunately the song is available through the creaky, ad-crazed Artist Direct site. The link above should take you to a page that allows you access to the download, rather than directly to the song; this is one of those that gives you a license allowing for a limited number of plays.

"You Are Not A Song" - Come Down
This NYC band is going to have to get used to being compared to Radiohead, as both the dreamy, melodic ambiance it creates and singer Mark Pernice's slurry, emotive voice rather quickly bring the great British band to mind. But sounding like another band is not a bad thing--I mean, "Beatlesque" is not an insult; neither is "Radioheadesque" (although maybe we need a better coinage). To begin with, there are far worse bands to embrace as a major influence. Second, if rock'n'roll is to remain vital in the 21st century, it's important for sounds to establish themselves independently of any one band--too much fragmentation and there are too many islands, no mainland. Plus, when the band itself has talent, the more one listens, the more the apparently derivative work emerges with its own attributes and charms. I like the engaging interplay between acoustic and electric guitars here, and am particularly enamored of the droning guitar that accompanies much of the way through, adding a subtle ache to an already wistful song. Check out how the drone stutters and reverberates with added intensity in the second verse, but never (quite) overwhelms the melody. "You Are Not A Song" can be found on the band's self-released Happy Hunting EP; the MP3 is available on the band's web site.

"Waiting for October" - Polaris
A bouncy slice of good-natured rock'n'roll originally featured on the mid-'90s Nickelodeon show, "The Adventures of Pete & Pete." I hear a big dose ofSteve Wynn in this track, for you Steve Wynn fans, both in the tone of singer Mark Mulcahy's friendly voice and in the goofy good energy of the whole thing. One particularly endearing element here for me is the echoey background harmonies in the chorus, recalling another bunch of good-natured rock'n'roll goofballs, Jonathan Richman's Modern Lovers. Polaris was "Pete & Pete"'s "house band," more or less; the band sprang from the core of a Connecticut-based band called Miracle Legion, which featured Mulcahy as singer and songwriter. Mulcahy, in turn, began his career in the mid-'80s as a Michael Stipe-inspired jangly-guitar indie-rocker, but transformed over the years into more of an emotionally forward singer/songwriter type and is said to have inspired none other than Radiohead's Thom Yorke (him again) somewhere along the way. "Pete & Pete" was one of those shows that acquired a devoted cult following (many fans consider it the best TV show ever, in fact) while operating just below the pop cultural radar screen. The music was a definite part of the show, and "Waiting for October" is apparently a fan favorite. The song can be found on a CD released in 1999 called, simply enough, "Music From The Adventures of Pete & Pete" (Mezzotint Records).


Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 a year as an affordable option.

THIS WEEK'S FINDS
week of May 30-June 5

"Balloon Maker" - Midlake
Here's a band from Denton, Texas that's channeling a veritable history of British rock in one great, swirling package. I hear Salty Dog-era Procol Harum in here, a dash of Robyn Hitchcock, some Beatles of course, and even a touch of Radiohead, majestically and more than a little psychedelically mixed together. (I for one never realized how much Thom Yorke owes to Procol's Gary Brooker until these guys linked the two so clearly together.) "Balloon Maker" places you immediately in the middle of a fuzzy, orchestral wash of sound, and unfolds with quirky hesitations through the verse before unwrapping into a memorable chorus. Horns and chimes lend extra texture as the song develops, and before things get too stodgy, the synthesizer offers a dizzy solo three and a half minutes in. This song comes from the band's first full-length CD, Bamnan and Slivercork, to be released June 8th on Bella Union. The MP3 is located on the vast SXSW web site.

"Coin-Operated Boy" - the Dresden Dolls
The White Stripes have their guitar-and-drum, Led Zeppelin meets a couple of geeks from Detroit act; now we have the Dresden Dolls with their piano-and-drum, Kurt Weill meets a couple of punks from Boston act. It's hard to know what kind of shelf life this sort of duo will have, but the music ("Brechtian Punk Cabaret," as they label it themselves) certainly stands out in a crowd. And there are hints at a simmering sort of brilliance beneath what might at first glance seem like shtick. To begin with, there's the band's seemingly effortless knack for melody--the verse, for instance, is an extended line rather than a repeated phrase; the descending twist at the point when pianist/singer/songwriter Amanda Palmer sings "But I turn him on" is a great moment. The lyrics likewise reveal a sneaky capability, despite the pitfall of tromping through somewhat well-worn territory (lonely outsider imagining life with an artificial lover). Like here: "Coin-operated boy/All the other real ones that I destroy/Cannot hold a candle to my new boy and I'll/Never let him go..." Or, in particular, as the bridge starts, here: "This bridge was written to make you feel smittener/With my sad picture of girl getting bitterer." Note too that the narrator wants the robot not because she can't find a lover otherwise but because she's tired of how she easily chews up her real ones. Could be a band to pay close attention to. The song is found on the Dresden Dolls' self-titled CD, their first studio release, which came out in April; the MP3 comes from SXSW again.

"When I Wake Up" - the Fontaine Toups
I do like songs with "do-do-do-do"s in the them, I guess. Here's an appealingly straightforward rocker from the oddly-named band the Fontaine Toups--oddly named because the leader herself is, apparently, named Fontaine Toups. She used to be in a popular NYC-based band called Versus, which recorded five CDs through the '90s. "When I Wake Up" has a loose-limbed energy to it that plays well off Toups' Chrissie Hynde-like swagger. The song comes from the band's debut CD, released earlier this month on Teenbeat Records; the MP3 is located on the band's web site.


Fingertips gratefully accepts donations, and suggests $5 a year as an affordable option.