April's Fool: Summer in Mind, Spring by our Side

Welcome back, mah chitlins! Now that the crisis has officially been averted and we've been told it's safe to go about our lives again (no, Japan still smolders and the skirmish in Libya still rages, but the US government will remain OPEN! -- huzzah!), I thought I'd kickstart the party with a few tunes. It's been a veritable feast of good music lately, which has only served to accentuate my already stellar mood.

First up is the sophomore effort from Brooklyn-based songstress Sharon Van Etten, Epic. Weighing in with a mere seven songs, this one could have come across as a flightly, interim offering, more EP than LP as she rejiggered her sound. (Her debut Because I Was in Love was a more spare acoustic affair.) Instead what we're treated to are seven spectacular songs. From the fierily resilient opener "A Crime," where she spits the line "never let myself love like that again" at an anonymous lover, to the hushed, throbbing closer "Love More," where heartbreak has beaten her nearly into submission. Hope quietly burns like a Sterno flame amidst the wreckage -- low, blue, yet present.

There's nary a lemon to be found -- even the shambling dirge "DsharpG" works its way in, coasting out of the fog like a phantom funeral ship, all tattered sails and grimy lanterns. Throughout the album Van Etten sounds like pre-Nashville Cat Power. (Think You Are Free era, minus the slide guitar honkytonk of "Save Yourself," which wouldn't sound out of place on her modern day offerings.) She's not necessarily doing anything new, all twin-tracked vocals, folksy guitar, and lyrics of love and loss. But she's not doing anything bad either. So what if she's mining from an established well?

From the simple strum and driving kick of "Peace Signs" and "Don't Do It" to the aforementioned tracks. Her voice is fantastic -- at turns gutshot and heartbroken, others quiet confidence and fire. The album beckons you in immediately and hangs on your heart for its scanty seven-song duration. None moreso than the following track, "One Day," which is an absolute sledgehammer of a song. Encapsulating all the anxieties, uncertainties, and hopeful optimism of love, this one dances from verses of forlorn doubt to those of quiet determination, all amidst a beautiful melody and some of Van Etten's most evocative lyrics:

snow is outside but i'm by your fire
i feel all the love you'll bring
you gotta see how we can see this out
summer in mind and spring by your side
you'll see all the love we'll keep

Great images, great melody, great song -- one we've all lived through at one point or another. (Though maybe not as harmoniously.) Check it out here:




Next up is the third offering from San Francisco band The Dodos, a band built around the twosome of singer/guitarist Meric Long and drumming maelstrom Logan Kroeber, the latter the apparent human equivalent of Animal from the Muppet Show. After the more sedate affair of their sophomore effort, Time to Die, I was worried the fire that made their debut Visiter (one of my all-time favorite road trip soundtracks) explode was gone. Thankfully, this album is a return to form (and a close second to that debut), an unmitigated rocketship to exhilaration.

From the moment "Black Night" opens, charging from the gate like a bull down Estafeta, you're committed until the album closer "All Night" -- stop moving or fight the joyous flow and you run the risk of being trampled underfoot, just as those Ferminos do in Pamplona. Like that dance with lunacy, though, the result is pure adrenaline. I defy anyone to listen to this album and not be taken in -- Kroeber is a drumming encyclopedia, giving a clinic on the number of rhythms and beats possible with a basic five-piece kit and the result is magic. If you don't start twitching with the beat or find yourself fighting the urge to flail around the room like a hippie in a drum circle, you might be dead.

"Black Night," "Going Under," "Good," "Don't Stop," and "Hunting Season" are all irresistible, and while they stand well enough on their own, what makes the album truly great (as with their debut) is how well the flow into each other. To truly appreciate the album you've got to listen to it in its entirety, riding the ebbs and flow into the stratosphere. (Hence the brilliance of the road trip usage.) Scarlet siren Neko Case helps out on roughly half the tracks, and while her voice has the capacity to be heard outside Saturn, she blends so effectively with her harmonies that you barely notice she's there.

Case (no pun intended) in point, check out "Don't Try and Hide It," just one of the many great tracks on display here. This one's got everything, though -- Long's great voice and percussive strumming, Kroeber going batshit on the cans, and Case mellowing out the mania with her backup of the shout-it-out song title chorus. A perfect motto for the album writ large, give it a listen and let it do to you what it will...




And now, for something completely different... While the previous two spoke to the heart, giving off a sense of hope and exuberance, this one is more cerebral and cool. Not that this is surprising considering the artist -- I'm speaking of the latest offering from British giants Radiohead and their ninth disc, The King of Limbs. Released with relatively little pomp and circumstance directly via their website, their latest batch of eight songs are in line with recent albums like In Rainbows (I and II), all nervous energy and twitchy electro beats. However also in line with those albums is the sexiness pervading their music that never was there before.

While albums like Kid A, Amnesiac, and even the masterful OK Computer experimented with electronic elements, the result was often cold, desolate, and somewhat depressing. (Though this being Radiohead, being upset over that would be akin to lamenting the sun going behind the clouds to find a pile of gold previously obscured by the glare.) Compounding the fact was Yorke's ethereal moan and cryptic, apocalyptic lyrics. The Rainbows twins, however, added a slinkiness to the songs that warmed the electro cool and augmented their power. Songs like "Nude," "Reckoner," and "Up on the Ladder" were perfect examples, combining a sensuality with the sturdy elements of old. Yorke even jettisoned some of the mystery in his lyrics to be literal, singing to a woman about lovelorn neediness and lust.

So while there are still songs here that wouldn't sound out of place on Eraser -- the opener "Bloom" and "Feral" positively pulsate with nervous energy, while "Morning Mr Magpie" might just be the epitome of what the style can achieve, crackling with anxious urgency -- the album's back half (and some of its best tracks) are redolent with the aforementioned slink. "Separator," "Give up the Ghost," and "Lotus Flower" are excellent, filled with Yorke's soaring voice and the band gliding along in lockstep.

Nothing tops the muted gem "Codex" for me, though. Stylistically (and numerically) there's not much there -- it's just Yorke at his piano, alone with his wounded wail again, pouring his heart out to the heavens. Something about the song just grabs you, though -- the echoing voice, the naked honesty, the pretty melody. The song comes out of your speakers in a whisper, suffused with blue light and mystery. Is it about suicide, or a midnight dip; gutshot depression or uplifted freedom -- who knows? It just works. The fact that a band that's been at it this long can continue to add, adjust, and perfect new elements while stripping away so much of what once made them popular is laudable -- that the music is still this good is nothing short of remarkable. Enjoy: