Thought I'd pop in after having my heart dashed against the rocks again this week with the latest installment of my Cubs' trademark collapses to offer up two happy accidents. Both were found completely by chance in unlikely locales -- one the gas station at Costco, the other some hipster giftshop at the beach -- but both have been heavy in the rotation ever since. First up is the reincarnation of singer-songwriter Nathaniel Rateliff as a bonafide soul man after years of offering delicate, lovelorn acoustic numbers as a solo act. (Check out "I Am" for one of his best.) This time he's come to town with a posse, the Night Sweats, a gang of six equipped with horns, strings, and a boatload of swagger, that're hellbent on making you move -- and move you shall.
For while Rateliff's songs have always been easy on the ears (if not on the heart, due to his poignant lyrics), thanks to his lovely voice and melodies, this takes those strengths to a whole new level, channeling them through the vintage soul and gospel of acts like Sam Cooke and Otis Redding (who Rateliff sounds uncannily like at times). Fittingly enough, Rateliff and Co. are signed to the legendary Stax, who know a little something about those forebears and the art of getting you to move, and they've captured the fabled lightning once again. This is a Sunday morning revival captured when the crowd is at full lather, and you will be powerless to resist. From the opening slam of "I Need Never Get Old," to fellow barnburners "Trying So Hard Not to Know," "Look it Here," and the juggernaut of "S.O.B.," these guys can conjure up pure, unadulterated joy in no time flat. They do a nice job balancing the fervor with slower, more soulful tunes like "Howling at Nothing," "I've Been Failing," "Wasting Time," and the blissful closer "Mellow Out," which really call to mind the Cooke references and his sweeter, simpler vibe.
It's an impressive debut, and one I hope Rateliff is able to replicate again soon, if for no other reason than these ten songs aren't going to last long at the rate I've been listening to them. None moreso than the aforementioned juggernaut, the tune that got things going that day at the gas station. It's a monster song -- the once in a lifetime type song I always talk about here -- and is as good the 50th time as it is the first. Part plantation spiritual, with nothing more than Rateliff, hums, and handclaps on the verses, and pure New Orleans on the chorus, with horns blazing and drinks flying, it's an amazing track, easily the best thing on an equally impressive album. Check it out here:
The second discovery was unearthed from the background music of that hipster shop at the beach and it turns out it's from an album that's eight years old and a band that's been defunct for nearly half that, Voxhaul Broadcast. The band hailed from Orange County, CA when it was still intact and what caught my ear was how much they reminded me of the Features (a personal fave, as long-timers here know) on that first listen -- both are four pieces deploying a mix of keys, guitars, and big chorused winners (keyboardist Anthony Aguilar and bassist Phillip Munset II form the backbone here), both have deceptively skillful drummers (Kurt Allen is the wildman on cans), and both have an incredible yeller at the mike who will have you howling along at the top of your lungs whether you know the words or not (David Dennis is said frontman/instigator).
It's uncanny as you move through their debut EP, Rotten Apples -- from the title track to equally excellent "Flickering Sparks," "Why Not," and "Too Much Thinking" -- it sounds like a lost album from the boys from Tennessee it's so familiar. Which speaks to its quality, as those boys routinely end up on the year-end list here. This album is chock full of winners, too, that makes it all the more lamentable the band's no longer around. (And that I didn't discover them until four years after they'd broken up!) They only put out a single full length after this, in addition to a couple more EPs (including one recorded at my beloved Elliott Smith's studio), that had some winning stuff on it, but nothing compares to this debut, which is an instant fave. The best remains the first tune that hooked my ear that day in the shop, the effervescent "Why Not." Check it out here:
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We'll close with a buoyant little single from Vampire Weekend bassist Chris Baio (under the penname of his surname), "Sister of Pearl." It bears some of the characteristics of his alma mater in its lightness and zip, while calling to mind 80s era Talking Heads and Bowie at times, too. The jingling riff that runs throughout honestly calls to mind Wes Anderson who could (and hopefully will) use this to the climax for any of his movies. (You can almost picture Gene Hackman chasing Owen Wilson on a velocipede while Bill Murray peers down at them from stilts...) It's catchy stuff that's worth a listen -- check it out here:
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Summer's Solstice: Landmark Festival
Thought I'd take a minute on a glorious little mental health day to pop in and offer up some discoveries from the recent Landmark Festival that took place right in my backyard. It was a pretty great little two day affair, the lineup a good balance of smaller regional bands getting an opportunity to shine next to some household names like headliners Drake and the Strokes. (Neither of which disappointed.) Similar to my beloved Lolla (it was run by the same promoters), the BMI stage offered up some of the concert's best moments, from the lush glow of some vintage soul with The Suffers, to the howling fuzzbomb of the London Souls (whose technical prowess was almost as impressive as the amount of noise the two generated), or conjuring Mardi Gras in the park with the Rebirth Brass Band. And then there was the multicultural mayhem that was Red Baraat, with its primal Indian drums, New Orleans style brass band, and lunatic punk spirit (they had a rapping sousaphone player, among other things, whose instrument was distorted like a deranged barge horn) that whipped the crowd into an absolute lather. It was the place to be, offering shelter from the cold and rain by way of shaking your ass with fifty of your frothy friends.
Some other noteworthy performances came from TV on the Radio, who dusted off several of their older tracks and reminded people that they weren't always a pretentious art rock band, but one of the cooler gang of misfits around, and the Southern-tinged twin bill of Houndmouth and Band of Horses, who offered up warm, inviting goodness like a pot of your grandma's grits. Overall festival champion was easily Alt-J, who were absolutely -- and somewhat unexpectedly, due to their precious, precise studio offerings -- mindblowing live. Forget the state of the art light display that accompanied their performance, the band sounded amazing and the combined effect of the two was utterly mesmerizing. No kidding, people after their performance were shuffling around the field as if they had just woken up from total hypnosis.
It was a great weekend, made all the moreso by picking up a few new discoveries, including these three local offerings -- Ex Hex, the Hunts, and Avers. First up is Ex Hex, an all-lady threesome helmed by DC-native Mary Timony Similar to her last band of lasses Wild Flag, Timony specializes in channeling the snarled lip sneer of Joan Jett at her finest. The lyrics may not knock you over, but the attitude and hooks will, and Timony throws out some pretty nifty solos to top everything off. From the opening "Don't Want to Lose" to barnburners like "Beast," "You Fell Apart," and "Waterfall," it's an upbeat, raucous affair. Cars-style "How You Got that Girl" and "Hot & Cold" round things out nicely on what is all in all a fun little listen. "Waste Your Time" captures the band's strengths -- Timony's aforementioned talents, with drummer Laura Harris and bassist Betsy Wright thundering alongside. Give it a listen here:
Next up is the seven-piece brother and sister combo from Chesapeake, MD, The Hunts (actual last name, Lavendopoulos* -- go figure!), whose combined age may barely clear triple digits, but similar to Lolla young'ins Hippo Campus they sound far more polished than bands twice their age. These guys evoke a Head and the Heart, Of Monsters and Men type sound, full of rich, swelling harmonies and big booming emotions, and they do their predecessors proud. The songs are all winners -- from exuberant gems like "Valentina" and "Just for a While" to more melancholic beauties "Illuminate" and "This is Love" -- the kids cut to the heart of the matter, playing everything from violins and guitars to bongos and chairs, and hit yours in the process. ("Douse the Flame" is an absolute stunner.) Nothing tops "Make this Leap," though, which is one of those once in a lifetime songs for a band -- pure, unadulterated joy. Check it out here:
Last up is the Richmond six-pack Avers, who march in with a wall of sound onslaught that -- similar to kindred sounding Jesus and Mary Chain or BRMC -- sounds good on their album, but sounded absolutely amazing live. They blew the 150 or so of us that managed to stagger out of bed early Sunday away with a five vocalist, four guitar attack that had even the peewees in the audience rocking around. Similar to the aforementioned forebears, this one's best digested in total for the fuzzed out haze it fills the room with rather than tiny nibbles and bites. The band seesaws nicely between British invasion ("The Only One," "Girls with Headaches," "Hangman") and the shimmery noir of their psychedelic offspring ("White Horses," "Mercy"), the latter of which really calls to mind those former bands. None moreso than "Harvest," which they build to a nice crescendo before slinking out the back. Crank the volume and kill the lights before giving it a whirl here:
(*Actual last name not Lavendopoulos - I just like the idea of these kids coming from a clan of Greek importer/exporters, singing their heads off below deck on some giant cargo ship with their swarthy, mustachioed patriarch refusing to give them approval, over the din of engine and the clanking of wrenches)
Some other noteworthy performances came from TV on the Radio, who dusted off several of their older tracks and reminded people that they weren't always a pretentious art rock band, but one of the cooler gang of misfits around, and the Southern-tinged twin bill of Houndmouth and Band of Horses, who offered up warm, inviting goodness like a pot of your grandma's grits. Overall festival champion was easily Alt-J, who were absolutely -- and somewhat unexpectedly, due to their precious, precise studio offerings -- mindblowing live. Forget the state of the art light display that accompanied their performance, the band sounded amazing and the combined effect of the two was utterly mesmerizing. No kidding, people after their performance were shuffling around the field as if they had just woken up from total hypnosis.
It was a great weekend, made all the moreso by picking up a few new discoveries, including these three local offerings -- Ex Hex, the Hunts, and Avers. First up is Ex Hex, an all-lady threesome helmed by DC-native Mary Timony Similar to her last band of lasses Wild Flag, Timony specializes in channeling the snarled lip sneer of Joan Jett at her finest. The lyrics may not knock you over, but the attitude and hooks will, and Timony throws out some pretty nifty solos to top everything off. From the opening "Don't Want to Lose" to barnburners like "Beast," "You Fell Apart," and "Waterfall," it's an upbeat, raucous affair. Cars-style "How You Got that Girl" and "Hot & Cold" round things out nicely on what is all in all a fun little listen. "Waste Your Time" captures the band's strengths -- Timony's aforementioned talents, with drummer Laura Harris and bassist Betsy Wright thundering alongside. Give it a listen here:
Next up is the seven-piece brother and sister combo from Chesapeake, MD, The Hunts (actual last name, Lavendopoulos* -- go figure!), whose combined age may barely clear triple digits, but similar to Lolla young'ins Hippo Campus they sound far more polished than bands twice their age. These guys evoke a Head and the Heart, Of Monsters and Men type sound, full of rich, swelling harmonies and big booming emotions, and they do their predecessors proud. The songs are all winners -- from exuberant gems like "Valentina" and "Just for a While" to more melancholic beauties "Illuminate" and "This is Love" -- the kids cut to the heart of the matter, playing everything from violins and guitars to bongos and chairs, and hit yours in the process. ("Douse the Flame" is an absolute stunner.) Nothing tops "Make this Leap," though, which is one of those once in a lifetime songs for a band -- pure, unadulterated joy. Check it out here:
Last up is the Richmond six-pack Avers, who march in with a wall of sound onslaught that -- similar to kindred sounding Jesus and Mary Chain or BRMC -- sounds good on their album, but sounded absolutely amazing live. They blew the 150 or so of us that managed to stagger out of bed early Sunday away with a five vocalist, four guitar attack that had even the peewees in the audience rocking around. Similar to the aforementioned forebears, this one's best digested in total for the fuzzed out haze it fills the room with rather than tiny nibbles and bites. The band seesaws nicely between British invasion ("The Only One," "Girls with Headaches," "Hangman") and the shimmery noir of their psychedelic offspring ("White Horses," "Mercy"), the latter of which really calls to mind those former bands. None moreso than "Harvest," which they build to a nice crescendo before slinking out the back. Crank the volume and kill the lights before giving it a whirl here:
(*Actual last name not Lavendopoulos - I just like the idea of these kids coming from a clan of Greek importer/exporters, singing their heads off below deck on some giant cargo ship with their swarthy, mustachioed patriarch refusing to give them approval, over the din of engine and the clanking of wrenches)
Monday, September 7, 2015
Postcards from the Pilgrimage: Lolla 2015
It's been a few weeks since the annual trip home and I've had time to process the glories and digest the slew of new tunes that I brought back with me, so wanted to stop in and share some of the highlights. Unsurprisingly it lived up to all the anticipation, remaining my favorite weekend of the year for ten years running now. And while in previous years the excitement came from lineups that seemed like I handpicked them myself, this year was a little different as it was largely a bunch of newer bands, ones whose catalogs often weren't much larger than the number of years most of the concertgoers had been out of high school. For every Metallica or Paul McCartney with decades under their belts, there were twice as many bands working off their debut or sophomore albums, which made this year all about discovering the next wave, with more hopscotching between stages than ever.
And all the hustling paid off -- I got to catch some or all of the sets for forty-odd bands, with high notes including hearing one of the two living Beatles sing Blackbird under a full moon by the lake, seeing Austin's Black Pistol Fire absolutely detonate the stage in the mid-afternoon heat, and seeing acts I wouldn't normally pay to see (like Sam Smith and Florence + the Machine) and being truly impressed with their sincerity and showmanship. Overall, though, the weekend came down to the number three -- three sets from bands I knew all about and was excited to see (in some cases for the fifth or sixth time), three sets from newbies that instantly won me over, all shared with three folks who tagged along and made the weekend even more enjoyable.
For the oldies, they shook out nicely, with one mindblowing performance per day. Day One winner (and maybe overall weekend champion) were the Alabama Shakes. This was their second time on the Lolla bill, but their first time actually performing, thanks to the monsoon that shut the festival down three years ago and wiped out their set. Brittany and the boys came ready to wow this time, though, and wow they did. The band's new material sounded fantastic live, like a Stax-style revue of old with Brittany she-cocking across the stage and whipping the crowd into a lather with her bright, flowing burgundy and orange getup and electric yellow mohawk. For a minute it looked like the band might be cursed, as the power blew out midway through and it looked like they might not get to finish the set they'd been building so steadily to a climax. Thankfully, though, they got things squared away and unleashed an amazing finish, including a version of "You Ain't Alone" that brought tears to the eye. Unbelievable stuff for a band only on their second album.
Day Two's winner was one of my overall faves, the juggernaut that is Death From Above 1979, who I actually ended up seeing twice over the weekend. Between the two sets, the boys played pretty much every song they've recorded over their ten year (and two disc) existence, and it left the main stage at the south side of the park a smoldering ruin. There's nothing complicated to what they do -- drums, a distorted bass, and Sebastian's strangled wail (the latter piece being what usually determines instantly whether you love or hate them) -- but once they get going, they are unstoppable. They are so loud, the grooves so irresistible, I can see them (or listen to them) a hundred times and never tire of them. And they surely didn't disappoint here -- I think they made more than a few new fans in the scorching heat this year.
And speaking of not disappointing (or not tiring of a band no matter how many times you've seen them), that brings us to Day Three's winner, the Lolla stalwart of Eugene's band of merrymen, Gogol Bordello. I've seen these guys probably a dozen times (half of them here at Lolla) and they are always a blast, but this year was one of their best. They unleashed their usual brand of Gypsy-infused punk and got people into a frenzy, but it wasn't until the end of the set when they surprised even me. That was when Eugene threw a bass drum into the crowd, paused for a moment, and then pounced like a Ukrainian panther on top of it, where he stood and sang the remainder of the song -- on top of a drum held up by the crowd. ?!?@?!##! Holy. Crap. Seeing the band live remains one of the things every human should do before they die, and this just proves another reason why. Incredible.
The three new discoveries may not have had the jaw-dropping impact of the previous three's performances, but they make up for that with plenty of potential. All three are debut bands, both at Lolla and in their broader recording count, and all three have been on constant shuffle in the month since the show. First up is Catfish and the Bottlemen, a UK-based band of Welshmen, Englishmen, and an Aussie, whose debut, The Balcony, (and their Lolla set) are crammed full of belt it to the rafters indie pop. Lead singer Van McCann (whose name sounds like a cartoon villain or porn star) has one of those great rock voices that can go from melodic croon to gravelly yell without breaking a sweat, as he shows off routinely in songs like "Homesick," "Pacifier," and "Cocoon." The songs are catchy as hell, none moreso than "Kathleen," which will have you yelling along in tandem as it blazes from your stereo. Check it out here:
Newbie #2 comes from a St Paul four-pack of kids who aren't old enough to drink from said beverage caddy, the delightful lads of Hippo Campus. And while these kids may have just graduated high school, they sound more polished and confident than bands twice their age. They've only released a six-song EP thus far, but it (and their Lolla set) are chock full of jaunty, bright little tunes that evoke an island vibe similar to Vampire Weekend (without all the esoteric literary or grammatical references...) At times lead singer Jake Luppen sounds so much like Vampire's Ezra Koenig it's uncanny, but these boys aren't a knockoff of VW, more like inspired proteges. Songs like "Sophie So," "Souls," and "Suicide Saturday" are all winners, as is "Little Grace," which was an instant favorite during the show. The band was pogoing up and down at the release, as was the crowd, and the effect still works on repeated listens. Check it out here:
The final discovery of the weekend came in the middle of the unrelenting heat on Day Two when I shuffled over to the refuge of the BMI stage (which remains the best stage at the concert year after year, both for its lovely shaded view of the lake and the number of bands I've discovered there) and caught a magical set from the London trio Bear's Den. It was a deja vu experience to when I first heard Boy & Bear a few years back, both because of where they were playing and how similar they sound (as well as the animal in their names and the beautiful harmonies they set free). From tracks like "The Love we Stole" and "Isaac" to "Magdalene" and "Agape," the band wins you over from the minute you hear them. They're beautiful tunes, and their debut Islands is full of them, none better than the knee-buckling beauty of "Above the Clouds of Pompeii," which builds to a lovely three-part harmony at the end. Check it out here:
And all the hustling paid off -- I got to catch some or all of the sets for forty-odd bands, with high notes including hearing one of the two living Beatles sing Blackbird under a full moon by the lake, seeing Austin's Black Pistol Fire absolutely detonate the stage in the mid-afternoon heat, and seeing acts I wouldn't normally pay to see (like Sam Smith and Florence + the Machine) and being truly impressed with their sincerity and showmanship. Overall, though, the weekend came down to the number three -- three sets from bands I knew all about and was excited to see (in some cases for the fifth or sixth time), three sets from newbies that instantly won me over, all shared with three folks who tagged along and made the weekend even more enjoyable.
For the oldies, they shook out nicely, with one mindblowing performance per day. Day One winner (and maybe overall weekend champion) were the Alabama Shakes. This was their second time on the Lolla bill, but their first time actually performing, thanks to the monsoon that shut the festival down three years ago and wiped out their set. Brittany and the boys came ready to wow this time, though, and wow they did. The band's new material sounded fantastic live, like a Stax-style revue of old with Brittany she-cocking across the stage and whipping the crowd into a lather with her bright, flowing burgundy and orange getup and electric yellow mohawk. For a minute it looked like the band might be cursed, as the power blew out midway through and it looked like they might not get to finish the set they'd been building so steadily to a climax. Thankfully, though, they got things squared away and unleashed an amazing finish, including a version of "You Ain't Alone" that brought tears to the eye. Unbelievable stuff for a band only on their second album.
Day Two's winner was one of my overall faves, the juggernaut that is Death From Above 1979, who I actually ended up seeing twice over the weekend. Between the two sets, the boys played pretty much every song they've recorded over their ten year (and two disc) existence, and it left the main stage at the south side of the park a smoldering ruin. There's nothing complicated to what they do -- drums, a distorted bass, and Sebastian's strangled wail (the latter piece being what usually determines instantly whether you love or hate them) -- but once they get going, they are unstoppable. They are so loud, the grooves so irresistible, I can see them (or listen to them) a hundred times and never tire of them. And they surely didn't disappoint here -- I think they made more than a few new fans in the scorching heat this year.
And speaking of not disappointing (or not tiring of a band no matter how many times you've seen them), that brings us to Day Three's winner, the Lolla stalwart of Eugene's band of merrymen, Gogol Bordello. I've seen these guys probably a dozen times (half of them here at Lolla) and they are always a blast, but this year was one of their best. They unleashed their usual brand of Gypsy-infused punk and got people into a frenzy, but it wasn't until the end of the set when they surprised even me. That was when Eugene threw a bass drum into the crowd, paused for a moment, and then pounced like a Ukrainian panther on top of it, where he stood and sang the remainder of the song -- on top of a drum held up by the crowd. ?!?@?!##! Holy. Crap. Seeing the band live remains one of the things every human should do before they die, and this just proves another reason why. Incredible.
The three new discoveries may not have had the jaw-dropping impact of the previous three's performances, but they make up for that with plenty of potential. All three are debut bands, both at Lolla and in their broader recording count, and all three have been on constant shuffle in the month since the show. First up is Catfish and the Bottlemen, a UK-based band of Welshmen, Englishmen, and an Aussie, whose debut, The Balcony, (and their Lolla set) are crammed full of belt it to the rafters indie pop. Lead singer Van McCann (whose name sounds like a cartoon villain or porn star) has one of those great rock voices that can go from melodic croon to gravelly yell without breaking a sweat, as he shows off routinely in songs like "Homesick," "Pacifier," and "Cocoon." The songs are catchy as hell, none moreso than "Kathleen," which will have you yelling along in tandem as it blazes from your stereo. Check it out here:
Newbie #2 comes from a St Paul four-pack of kids who aren't old enough to drink from said beverage caddy, the delightful lads of Hippo Campus. And while these kids may have just graduated high school, they sound more polished and confident than bands twice their age. They've only released a six-song EP thus far, but it (and their Lolla set) are chock full of jaunty, bright little tunes that evoke an island vibe similar to Vampire Weekend (without all the esoteric literary or grammatical references...) At times lead singer Jake Luppen sounds so much like Vampire's Ezra Koenig it's uncanny, but these boys aren't a knockoff of VW, more like inspired proteges. Songs like "Sophie So," "Souls," and "Suicide Saturday" are all winners, as is "Little Grace," which was an instant favorite during the show. The band was pogoing up and down at the release, as was the crowd, and the effect still works on repeated listens. Check it out here:
The final discovery of the weekend came in the middle of the unrelenting heat on Day Two when I shuffled over to the refuge of the BMI stage (which remains the best stage at the concert year after year, both for its lovely shaded view of the lake and the number of bands I've discovered there) and caught a magical set from the London trio Bear's Den. It was a deja vu experience to when I first heard Boy & Bear a few years back, both because of where they were playing and how similar they sound (as well as the animal in their names and the beautiful harmonies they set free). From tracks like "The Love we Stole" and "Isaac" to "Magdalene" and "Agape," the band wins you over from the minute you hear them. They're beautiful tunes, and their debut Islands is full of them, none better than the knee-buckling beauty of "Above the Clouds of Pompeii," which builds to a lovely three-part harmony at the end. Check it out here:
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Electric Daisy Carnival -- Around the World in 180BPM
Figured I'd sneak one more in before the annual pilgrimage home for Lolla and since the dance tent there is routinely one of the best parts of the weekend, thought I'd throw one down for the electroheads and offer a medley of stuff from that side of the aisle. My daily fourteen hour shifts at the dick punching machine have been taking their toll lately, so I could use a dance party like no one's business, and these have helped gin one up, even if it's just from the confines of Sunshine palace.
First up is a track from French DJ Gesaffelstein who I'd gotten into the last few years based on a bunch of his remixes. I hadn't realized he'd released a full-length so recently stumbled upon his debut, Aleph, and it's a solid mix of slinky, heavy tracks. Similar to Cuba and its cigars or Russia and its shirtless, bear-riding emirs, some countries are indisuputably better at producing certain things, and for whatever reason French DJs are always the epitome of this genre. Gesaffelstein upholds the mantle of fellow countrymen Daft and Justice well, producing a effortlessly cool and invigorating batch of tracks that showcase his sound, which melds equal parts 80s video game bleeps and thudding beats.
Similar to Kavinsky and Crystal Castles, his stuff could form the soundtrack to almost any movie of that era and sometimes sounds like your Nintendo took over the DJ booth, but what sets him apart is how he funnels that signature French slinkiness to the beats, which he girds with steel they hit so hard. Tracks like "Obsession," "Duel," "Hate or Glory," and "Trans" are all bangers, and "Out of Line" and "Destinations" both crackle with vocalist Chloe Raunet's matter of fact spoken lyrics. Nothing tops "Pursuit" for me, though. The beat is a sledgehammer once it drops in behind the "moo cow" sounding chant, and he then ping pongs it back and forth over the next four minutes. This one's a high speed chase through the night as you fly from the law in a stolen car -- check it out here:
Next is the latest release from UK legends The Chemical Brothers, Born in the Echoes, their first in five years and a pretty solid return to form from the unevenness of that outing, Further. The Chems have always been able to get things going, almost single-handedly ushering in the age of the big beat nearly twenty years ago with their classic debut, Exit Planet Dust (for the second post in a row, I feel like a fucking dinosaur for statements like that), and those skills haven't rusted at all in the intervening span. This one gets off to a fast start as the first five songs blast away, and the album does a good job of hitting the notes of the duo's previous offerings. Tracks like the opening of "Sometimes I Feel So Deserted" and "Under Neon Lights" wouldn't sound out of place on their debut or Dig Your Own Hole, the Q-Tip driven "Go" calls to mind Push the Button, and "I'll See You There" would be right at home on Surrender. Several of the latter tracks evoke Further or We Are the Night, and not coincidentally that's where the album loses a little steam, but overall it's a solid effort that showcases how varied an attack these two wield. Top note goes to "EML Ritual," another one that wouldn't be out of place on that debut, and another that just builds to a freak out at the end on the heels of another killer beat. Check it out here:
Third spot is a trip to Jamaica courtesy of Diplo, who continues his Sherman's march across the landscape, demolishing everything in his path including your ability to stand still. His insane hot streak rolls on unabated, and he's already thrown out two albums this year that are sure to make the year end list -- one with the usually uninspiring Skrillex (the aptly named Skrillex and Diplo Present Jack U) and the other with his coterie of island Rastafarians as Major Lazer. Taken together, they highlight Diplo's knack for collaboration and his seemingly endless sources of inspiration, as both albums are chock full of guest stars and genres, cramming everything from hip hop, dancehall, moombahton, and crazy revenge of the robots style tracks together with appearances by Ellie Goulding, 2 Chainz, Pusha T, and even the Bieber for a rowdy good time. (Missy's verses on the remix version of "Take U There" are bananas and make you desperately miss the M I Double S Y E.)
What he also does -- primarily on the latter album, the third Lazer offering, Peace is the Mission, but also occasionally on Jack U -- is show his mastery of the downtempo track. Not known for slowing things down, as anyone who's gone and had their face blown off at his wild DJ sets can attest, Diplo shows the power of taking things down a notch and letting your heart rate slow below triple digits here. A far less rambunctious affair than normal, this one is nearly half top notch half steppers -- from the opening "Be Together" to the closing "All My Love," with the monster twin bill of "Lean On" and "Powerful" propping up the middle, this one's built on a foundation of these four tracks. And it works -- each of those tracks smolder under the four female vocalists and their lyrics of love, and they make the uptempo tracks in between hit all the harder for the juxtaposition. None moreso than "Too Original," which is three and a half minutes of mayhem and a gonzo encapsulation of everything that makes this guy so irresistible. Check it out here:
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We'll close with one more single, a track off the latest Boys Noize album, and one more plug, for the killer documentary Shut Up and Play the Hits. For the former, it's a trip to Germany for the high point off the uneven, Boys Noize Presents Strictly Raw, Vol. 1, which is unfortunately characteristic of DJ Alexsander Ridha's previous offerings. For every stellar turn (Oi Oi Oi or his Fabriclive DJ set) there's an erratic mixed bag (this, Power). It can be vexing because of how good he can be -- hopefully he's got another ace up his sleeve soon. In the interim, enjoy this track, "Cerebral," which rolls into town on a thudding buzz and keeps going on the staccato ride and Pilo's vocals. Check it out here:
For the latter, I happened to catch a showing of the aforementioned documentary last week, which captures the final concert of the great LCD Soundsystem, and I was surprised how enjoyable it was. Part behind the scenes conversations with frontman James Murphy in the days before/immediately after the show and part selections from that final night's setlist, it captures his quiet thoughts and reflections, as well as the raucous scene inside Madison Square Garden that night. LCD always maintained an arm's length distance from things, channeling a diffident cool or snarky judgment to their lyrics and performances, and it made them tough to embrace. When they dropped the NY attitude, though, and focused on getting the party started, they could be amazing (the climax of "All My Friends" remains one of the greatest payoffs in song) and they were in rare form here. It's a fantastic watch, chock full of guest stars Last Waltz style (Arcade Fire shows up and actually gives the film its title) and great songs, and it will get you moving on the couch. They play all the ones you want, as well as a few surprises, including this one from their 45:33 EP -- it proved they could do no wrong that night, with comedian Reggie Watts showing up and crushing his half of the duet. Check it out (before you immediately go watch the whole movie) here:
First up is a track from French DJ Gesaffelstein who I'd gotten into the last few years based on a bunch of his remixes. I hadn't realized he'd released a full-length so recently stumbled upon his debut, Aleph, and it's a solid mix of slinky, heavy tracks. Similar to Cuba and its cigars or Russia and its shirtless, bear-riding emirs, some countries are indisuputably better at producing certain things, and for whatever reason French DJs are always the epitome of this genre. Gesaffelstein upholds the mantle of fellow countrymen Daft and Justice well, producing a effortlessly cool and invigorating batch of tracks that showcase his sound, which melds equal parts 80s video game bleeps and thudding beats.
Similar to Kavinsky and Crystal Castles, his stuff could form the soundtrack to almost any movie of that era and sometimes sounds like your Nintendo took over the DJ booth, but what sets him apart is how he funnels that signature French slinkiness to the beats, which he girds with steel they hit so hard. Tracks like "Obsession," "Duel," "Hate or Glory," and "Trans" are all bangers, and "Out of Line" and "Destinations" both crackle with vocalist Chloe Raunet's matter of fact spoken lyrics. Nothing tops "Pursuit" for me, though. The beat is a sledgehammer once it drops in behind the "moo cow" sounding chant, and he then ping pongs it back and forth over the next four minutes. This one's a high speed chase through the night as you fly from the law in a stolen car -- check it out here:
Next is the latest release from UK legends The Chemical Brothers, Born in the Echoes, their first in five years and a pretty solid return to form from the unevenness of that outing, Further. The Chems have always been able to get things going, almost single-handedly ushering in the age of the big beat nearly twenty years ago with their classic debut, Exit Planet Dust (for the second post in a row, I feel like a fucking dinosaur for statements like that), and those skills haven't rusted at all in the intervening span. This one gets off to a fast start as the first five songs blast away, and the album does a good job of hitting the notes of the duo's previous offerings. Tracks like the opening of "Sometimes I Feel So Deserted" and "Under Neon Lights" wouldn't sound out of place on their debut or Dig Your Own Hole, the Q-Tip driven "Go" calls to mind Push the Button, and "I'll See You There" would be right at home on Surrender. Several of the latter tracks evoke Further or We Are the Night, and not coincidentally that's where the album loses a little steam, but overall it's a solid effort that showcases how varied an attack these two wield. Top note goes to "EML Ritual," another one that wouldn't be out of place on that debut, and another that just builds to a freak out at the end on the heels of another killer beat. Check it out here:
Third spot is a trip to Jamaica courtesy of Diplo, who continues his Sherman's march across the landscape, demolishing everything in his path including your ability to stand still. His insane hot streak rolls on unabated, and he's already thrown out two albums this year that are sure to make the year end list -- one with the usually uninspiring Skrillex (the aptly named Skrillex and Diplo Present Jack U) and the other with his coterie of island Rastafarians as Major Lazer. Taken together, they highlight Diplo's knack for collaboration and his seemingly endless sources of inspiration, as both albums are chock full of guest stars and genres, cramming everything from hip hop, dancehall, moombahton, and crazy revenge of the robots style tracks together with appearances by Ellie Goulding, 2 Chainz, Pusha T, and even the Bieber for a rowdy good time. (Missy's verses on the remix version of "Take U There" are bananas and make you desperately miss the M I Double S Y E.)
What he also does -- primarily on the latter album, the third Lazer offering, Peace is the Mission, but also occasionally on Jack U -- is show his mastery of the downtempo track. Not known for slowing things down, as anyone who's gone and had their face blown off at his wild DJ sets can attest, Diplo shows the power of taking things down a notch and letting your heart rate slow below triple digits here. A far less rambunctious affair than normal, this one is nearly half top notch half steppers -- from the opening "Be Together" to the closing "All My Love," with the monster twin bill of "Lean On" and "Powerful" propping up the middle, this one's built on a foundation of these four tracks. And it works -- each of those tracks smolder under the four female vocalists and their lyrics of love, and they make the uptempo tracks in between hit all the harder for the juxtaposition. None moreso than "Too Original," which is three and a half minutes of mayhem and a gonzo encapsulation of everything that makes this guy so irresistible. Check it out here:
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We'll close with one more single, a track off the latest Boys Noize album, and one more plug, for the killer documentary Shut Up and Play the Hits. For the former, it's a trip to Germany for the high point off the uneven, Boys Noize Presents Strictly Raw, Vol. 1, which is unfortunately characteristic of DJ Alexsander Ridha's previous offerings. For every stellar turn (Oi Oi Oi or his Fabriclive DJ set) there's an erratic mixed bag (this, Power). It can be vexing because of how good he can be -- hopefully he's got another ace up his sleeve soon. In the interim, enjoy this track, "Cerebral," which rolls into town on a thudding buzz and keeps going on the staccato ride and Pilo's vocals. Check it out here:
For the latter, I happened to catch a showing of the aforementioned documentary last week, which captures the final concert of the great LCD Soundsystem, and I was surprised how enjoyable it was. Part behind the scenes conversations with frontman James Murphy in the days before/immediately after the show and part selections from that final night's setlist, it captures his quiet thoughts and reflections, as well as the raucous scene inside Madison Square Garden that night. LCD always maintained an arm's length distance from things, channeling a diffident cool or snarky judgment to their lyrics and performances, and it made them tough to embrace. When they dropped the NY attitude, though, and focused on getting the party started, they could be amazing (the climax of "All My Friends" remains one of the greatest payoffs in song) and they were in rare form here. It's a fantastic watch, chock full of guest stars Last Waltz style (Arcade Fire shows up and actually gives the film its title) and great songs, and it will get you moving on the couch. They play all the ones you want, as well as a few surprises, including this one from their 45:33 EP -- it proved they could do no wrong that night, with comedian Reggie Watts showing up and crushing his half of the duet. Check it out (before you immediately go watch the whole movie) here:
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Country Jamboree: The Importance of Being Earnest
Thought I'd take a moment while wifey's away prepping for her regional rap battle tonight to jump in with another couple recommendations. First one's for the Louisville foursome Houndmouth who recently put out their sophomore album, Little Neon Limelight. Similar to their debut, From the Hills Below the City, the album showcases the band's fantastic four-part harmonies and winning melodies, filtering them through the band's "little bit country, little bit indie band" recipe maker. And that's part of the problem -- it's what made me leave the debut off the annual "best of" list, having completely forgotten about it as an option, and it's what's kept me from writing about these guys until now -- the songs often feel too polished and artificial, more the result of engineering than emotion, and that keeps them from fully resonating and sticking with you.
It's a known problem for these holler back/retro/revivalist bands -- how do you hearken back to the sounds and sights of earlier times and bands without sounding derivative, unoriginal, or insincere? It's why for every winning success (The Decemberists' Her Majesty or The King is Dead, Fitz & the Tantrums' debut) there are plenty of others that are vacuous, terrible messes (The Decemberists' Hazards of Love, Fitz & the Tantrum's follow up album). What sets the winners from the losers is the ability to draw on those elements of yesteryear and connect them with the modern heart; to spark a feeling of nostalgia or loss for those things, rather than a bland, cerebral recitation of them. It's the difference between memory and missing; heartfelt and history lesson.
Similar to their debut, this album is filled with the requisite mentions of devils and preachers, stagecoaches and whiskey, gold and guns, as well as references to cocaine and "shove it up your ass" rebelliousness, but the effect often feels forced and insincere. The latter smacks of false bravado, like a popped collar Georgetowner getting tattoos and a motorcycle, while the former feels like borrowing someone else's wedding vows -- the words work, but it feels fake because there's no real emotion behind them.
The Lumineers' debut (to pick another contemporary) resonated so strongly for that reason -- it was a big, bleeding heart that used similar imagery to the stuff here, but stands in stark contrast to this result. And it's why those other bands are so uneven -- do I really believe Colin Meloy gives a shit about his pirate ships, architects, and engine drivers or that Michael Fitzpatrick cares as deeply about 80s synth pop as he does soul music? No, I do not. But sometimes, they convince you -- when they drop the pop artifice and Mad Libs style songwriting formulas ("I need another word for 'pistol' and an old-timey conveyance: have we tried 'donkey caravan' yet?"), they can be great.
And so can these guys. The harmonies are truly exceptional -- tracks like the opening "Sedona," "Black Gold," and the stately gem "Honey Slider" show how well guitarist Matt Myers, bass man Zak Appleby, keyboardist Katie Toupin, and cans man Shane Cody's voices meld together. And the melodies are equally winning. (The slow-burning "Otis" and "Darlin'" shine, in addition to the above.) What prevents it from fully resonating is that unguarded heart. So hopefully the band takes their own words to heart, as they shout on the penultimate song -- "SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT! SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT! TIL YA BELIEVE! TIL YA BELIEVE!" Here's to hoping they do, because both their albums are full of songs you'll find yourself singing along to or pleasantly listening to in the background. If they can dial in that last element, as they do on the following song, "Gasoline," they might be truly great.
Check out that unqualified winner here -- naked emotion, hushed harmonies, and simple lyrics that feel like confessions. It resonates like a howl in the woods, despite the muted volume. Here's to more like this in the future:
The other one that I keep coming back to and finding myself unable to fully embrace is the amalgam that is The New Basement Tapes and the album, Lost on the River. Part of that is undoubtedly due to the process -- find a cache of unrecorded Dylan lyrics, assemble a group of musicians with rather different sounds (Elvis Costello, Jim James from My Morning Jacket, Marcus Mumford from Mumford and Sons, among others), and see what happens when you hit record. And what you get, by and large, is a really good set of songs that keeps the country/throwback vibe going.
The biggest critique here is the need for an editor -- at 20 songs long, there are a handful of tracks that probably didn't need to make the cut (for me, that means most of Costello's and Rhiannon Gidden's tracks, which seem arch and schmaltzy at times, in comparison to the others -- "Married to my Hack," the title track and "Hidee Ho" ones, "Six Months in Kansas City," etc) and their presence takes away from this being an outstanding album. James' and Mumford's songs are the unequivocal highlights -- the former's "Down on the Bottom" and "Nothing To It" and the latter's "Kansas City" and "When I Get My Hands On You" are all fantastic. Great vocals, great melodies, great songs that probably work better in their hands than in Dylan's. Dawes' Taylor Goldsmith's songs round out the affair nicely ("Liberty Street," "Florida Key" among them) and are worth a listen. Plenty to like here, just use the scissors when downloading.
Check out Mumford's "Kansas City" here -- vintage Mumford vocals, all bruised emotion and soaring heart, and a great melody to boot. Enjoy!
We'll break the country vibe and go out with a funky little pop song from electro producer Big Data to get the blood flowing again, the ultra catchy ear worm "Dangerous." There's nothing fancy going on -- just Joywave singer Daniel Armbruster's cooed lyrics and a simple four note bass line -- but those two elements are enough to get you moving, and that bass line will be stuck in your head for hours. Pop music at its best, check it out here:
It's a known problem for these holler back/retro/revivalist bands -- how do you hearken back to the sounds and sights of earlier times and bands without sounding derivative, unoriginal, or insincere? It's why for every winning success (The Decemberists' Her Majesty or The King is Dead, Fitz & the Tantrums' debut) there are plenty of others that are vacuous, terrible messes (The Decemberists' Hazards of Love, Fitz & the Tantrum's follow up album). What sets the winners from the losers is the ability to draw on those elements of yesteryear and connect them with the modern heart; to spark a feeling of nostalgia or loss for those things, rather than a bland, cerebral recitation of them. It's the difference between memory and missing; heartfelt and history lesson.
Similar to their debut, this album is filled with the requisite mentions of devils and preachers, stagecoaches and whiskey, gold and guns, as well as references to cocaine and "shove it up your ass" rebelliousness, but the effect often feels forced and insincere. The latter smacks of false bravado, like a popped collar Georgetowner getting tattoos and a motorcycle, while the former feels like borrowing someone else's wedding vows -- the words work, but it feels fake because there's no real emotion behind them.
The Lumineers' debut (to pick another contemporary) resonated so strongly for that reason -- it was a big, bleeding heart that used similar imagery to the stuff here, but stands in stark contrast to this result. And it's why those other bands are so uneven -- do I really believe Colin Meloy gives a shit about his pirate ships, architects, and engine drivers or that Michael Fitzpatrick cares as deeply about 80s synth pop as he does soul music? No, I do not. But sometimes, they convince you -- when they drop the pop artifice and Mad Libs style songwriting formulas ("I need another word for 'pistol' and an old-timey conveyance: have we tried 'donkey caravan' yet?"), they can be great.
And so can these guys. The harmonies are truly exceptional -- tracks like the opening "Sedona," "Black Gold," and the stately gem "Honey Slider" show how well guitarist Matt Myers, bass man Zak Appleby, keyboardist Katie Toupin, and cans man Shane Cody's voices meld together. And the melodies are equally winning. (The slow-burning "Otis" and "Darlin'" shine, in addition to the above.) What prevents it from fully resonating is that unguarded heart. So hopefully the band takes their own words to heart, as they shout on the penultimate song -- "SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT! SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT! TIL YA BELIEVE! TIL YA BELIEVE!" Here's to hoping they do, because both their albums are full of songs you'll find yourself singing along to or pleasantly listening to in the background. If they can dial in that last element, as they do on the following song, "Gasoline," they might be truly great.
Check out that unqualified winner here -- naked emotion, hushed harmonies, and simple lyrics that feel like confessions. It resonates like a howl in the woods, despite the muted volume. Here's to more like this in the future:
The other one that I keep coming back to and finding myself unable to fully embrace is the amalgam that is The New Basement Tapes and the album, Lost on the River. Part of that is undoubtedly due to the process -- find a cache of unrecorded Dylan lyrics, assemble a group of musicians with rather different sounds (Elvis Costello, Jim James from My Morning Jacket, Marcus Mumford from Mumford and Sons, among others), and see what happens when you hit record. And what you get, by and large, is a really good set of songs that keeps the country/throwback vibe going.
The biggest critique here is the need for an editor -- at 20 songs long, there are a handful of tracks that probably didn't need to make the cut (for me, that means most of Costello's and Rhiannon Gidden's tracks, which seem arch and schmaltzy at times, in comparison to the others -- "Married to my Hack," the title track and "Hidee Ho" ones, "Six Months in Kansas City," etc) and their presence takes away from this being an outstanding album. James' and Mumford's songs are the unequivocal highlights -- the former's "Down on the Bottom" and "Nothing To It" and the latter's "Kansas City" and "When I Get My Hands On You" are all fantastic. Great vocals, great melodies, great songs that probably work better in their hands than in Dylan's. Dawes' Taylor Goldsmith's songs round out the affair nicely ("Liberty Street," "Florida Key" among them) and are worth a listen. Plenty to like here, just use the scissors when downloading.
Check out Mumford's "Kansas City" here -- vintage Mumford vocals, all bruised emotion and soaring heart, and a great melody to boot. Enjoy!
We'll break the country vibe and go out with a funky little pop song from electro producer Big Data to get the blood flowing again, the ultra catchy ear worm "Dangerous." There's nothing fancy going on -- just Joywave singer Daniel Armbruster's cooed lyrics and a simple four note bass line -- but those two elements are enough to get you moving, and that bass line will be stuck in your head for hours. Pop music at its best, check it out here:
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Southern Comfort: Shaken, Surely Stirred
Thought I'd take a moment between monsoons and my ongoing hunt for the rodent stowaway in my kitchen to come up for air with a quick recommendation. This go-round it's the latest from the Alabama Shakes, Sound & Color. It's been three years since the Shakes burst onto the scene and became indie darlings with 2012's Boys & Girls, largely on the backs of its monster single "Hold On." The temptation on the follow-up must have been significant to stay within the lines established there, indie with clear Southern flourishes, inviting without offending, with nary a note or strand out of place. Lead singer Brittany Howard was the wildcard, the one element with the ability to ruffle some feathers with her primordial wail and charming lack of polish, but even she was largely well-behaved on the debut.
You can tell from the opening notes here, though, with the vibraphone entree of the title track how resoundingly they were going to fight that urge on their sophomore effort. The band takes a series of big risks by doing so, burying the closest replicas of their debut in the last third of the album, but what they give us in return is an exceptional, chameleonic album that plumbs the wells of vintage soul, R&B, and blues, and mixes it with their brand of Southern-tinged rock. The band paints with the title, creating an album that is an endless shift of moods and hues, at times funky and muscular as on "Don't Wanna Fight" and "Shoegaze," others sultry and sedate as on "This Feeling" and "Over my Head."
You can hear the myriad influences throughout -- Otis Redding and his Stax-era soul ("Miss You"), Janis Joplin and her unbridled blues ("Gimme All Your Love"), Isaac Hayes/D'angelo style R&B with its off tempo, sensual throb ("Gemini"). They're all here and channeled through the prism of Howard's exuberant, seemingly unfiltered thoughts and emotions. And it works -- songs of yearning, songs of love, songs of hurt feelings and flippant disregard. Howard and the band damn the decorum and fire freely this time and it makes all the difference, between this and the debut, like the Enchantment Under the Sea band after Marty McFly shows up. This album hits harder, registers deeper, and stays with you longer, and I can't wait to see it performed live. Songs like "Future People" and "Dunes" (or "Gimme All Your Love" once it snaps into high gear at the end) are pure Southern revue, and were meant for the open air. They and their brethren will be glorious to see next month at Lolla, spinning out over the masses and edging towards the lake.
"Dunes" is the one I'll be waiting for, as it highlights both the band's range and the broad palette it used on this offering. It's got a little bit of everything in its four minute span -- quiet sentiment, plaintive wails, Southern funk and muscle -- that serve as nods to each of their disparate influences. It's one of many gems on this album and worth a look. Check it out here:
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We'll throw in a freebie for the road, a track off Two Gallant's latest, We are Undone. Keeping with the Southern vibe (by way of San Francisco) this bluesy twosome checks back in on their sixth full length, another solid mix of Black Keys style ditties that melds well with the rest of their catalog. Lead singer/guitarist Adam Stephens' voice carries things along nicely as it, like the album, is equal parts melody and grit. Tracks like "Some Trouble," the title track, and "Katy Kruelly" all shine, but my personal fave is the rebellious mini anthem "Fools Like Us." Drummer Tyson Vogel's thrashing, Stephens' crunchy riffs, and the thumb in the eye lyrics all resonate with my inner pissant. Maybe it will yours, too. Test the waters here:
You can tell from the opening notes here, though, with the vibraphone entree of the title track how resoundingly they were going to fight that urge on their sophomore effort. The band takes a series of big risks by doing so, burying the closest replicas of their debut in the last third of the album, but what they give us in return is an exceptional, chameleonic album that plumbs the wells of vintage soul, R&B, and blues, and mixes it with their brand of Southern-tinged rock. The band paints with the title, creating an album that is an endless shift of moods and hues, at times funky and muscular as on "Don't Wanna Fight" and "Shoegaze," others sultry and sedate as on "This Feeling" and "Over my Head."
You can hear the myriad influences throughout -- Otis Redding and his Stax-era soul ("Miss You"), Janis Joplin and her unbridled blues ("Gimme All Your Love"), Isaac Hayes/D'angelo style R&B with its off tempo, sensual throb ("Gemini"). They're all here and channeled through the prism of Howard's exuberant, seemingly unfiltered thoughts and emotions. And it works -- songs of yearning, songs of love, songs of hurt feelings and flippant disregard. Howard and the band damn the decorum and fire freely this time and it makes all the difference, between this and the debut, like the Enchantment Under the Sea band after Marty McFly shows up. This album hits harder, registers deeper, and stays with you longer, and I can't wait to see it performed live. Songs like "Future People" and "Dunes" (or "Gimme All Your Love" once it snaps into high gear at the end) are pure Southern revue, and were meant for the open air. They and their brethren will be glorious to see next month at Lolla, spinning out over the masses and edging towards the lake.
"Dunes" is the one I'll be waiting for, as it highlights both the band's range and the broad palette it used on this offering. It's got a little bit of everything in its four minute span -- quiet sentiment, plaintive wails, Southern funk and muscle -- that serve as nods to each of their disparate influences. It's one of many gems on this album and worth a look. Check it out here:
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We'll throw in a freebie for the road, a track off Two Gallant's latest, We are Undone. Keeping with the Southern vibe (by way of San Francisco) this bluesy twosome checks back in on their sixth full length, another solid mix of Black Keys style ditties that melds well with the rest of their catalog. Lead singer/guitarist Adam Stephens' voice carries things along nicely as it, like the album, is equal parts melody and grit. Tracks like "Some Trouble," the title track, and "Katy Kruelly" all shine, but my personal fave is the rebellious mini anthem "Fools Like Us." Drummer Tyson Vogel's thrashing, Stephens' crunchy riffs, and the thumb in the eye lyrics all resonate with my inner pissant. Maybe it will yours, too. Test the waters here:
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Greetings and Salutations: A Winning Debut, A Stellar Return
Fresh on the heels of the revelation yesterday that people outside my house actually read this (#$%@!), I figured I'd get on my horse while Ladypants is on hers (training for the Preakness!) and dip in to offer up a couple recommendations. First up is courtesy of Dodos drummer Logan Kroeber who mentioned the debut album of Astral Swans in one of his recent interviews, which got me curious to check it out. And I'm glad I did -- the album, All my Favorite Singers are Willie Nelson, is a dreamy, shimmery affair from Calgaryian Matthew Swann. It's a beguiling mixture, part 60s folk and psychedelic, part 90s grunge (it keeps making me think of the Ass Ponys without really sounding much like them) that conjures an intoxicating haze for its scant 30 minute duration. Swann has an inviting voice, one that he soaks in reverb nicely to magnify the sound, while his lyrics are cryptic elisions, teasing you with their glimmers of a broader meaning. ("We're like smoke, we're like blackouts..." "I never let go, even when there's nothing to hold..." "Maybe some rope, maybe an escape route...")
It's an album that's meant to be digested whole, with each track reinforcing the boozy warmth of its predecessor -- from the quiet violence of the opening "There are Ways to get What you Want" to the closing enigma "Grass Girl," there's not a clunker in the bunch. Standouts include "Let Their Faces All Blur Out" with its punkish energy and growling guitar, and its fraternal twin "My Conscience Doesn't Work in the New World," as well as the languid "What Calms you Down, Freaks me Out." My favorite remains the jaunty lead single, "Beginning of the End," though. It captures everything I've mentioned above -- mysterious lyrics, a buoyant energy, and a warmth that radiates from Swann's shimmering voice. It's a great track on an equally great debut; like a riddle you can't quite solve, but can't get out of your head. Definitely worth keeping tabs on him in the coming years. Check it out here:
Next up is the return of a long-time fave, the Idaho heroes Built to Spill, who charge back from a six year hiatus (their longest to date) with their eight album, Untethered Moon. What's remarkable about these guys is how relentlessly solid they are -- from song to song and album to album, they almost never miss a step. The same goes here -- from the opening assault of "All Our Songs" to the closing epic "When I'm Blind," the band offers another near flawless set of songs to add to their already considerable arsenal. There's the smoldering burn of "Some Other Song" and "Another Day;" the headbomb of "C.R.E.B.," which is loaded with the band's patented riffs and tempo shifts; and the double shot of "Never Be the Same" and "Horizon to Cliff," which capture the band's softer side and the sweetness of frontman Doug Martsch's voice. Honestly the worst thing I could think to say is that the closing track could use a slight trim, as the noodling in the middle occasionally seems aimless. (Though I'm sure will sound incredible live as it gives Martsch and Co some space to show off their considerable guitar licks and is vintage BTS, meandering off on some strange side paths before coming back to the main road like magic, so I'm reluctant to even levy that minor critique.)
It's pretty remarkable when you come to think of it. Played side by side with their previous albums, you'd be hard pressed not only to tell which was recorded in 2015 and which was recorded 20 years ago, you'd also be hard pressed to pick a favorite (or say which is "weakest," to take the opposite perspective, if such a condition exists for these guys). To be that consistent for that long (over two decades! Countries have fallen apart faster than that) is something to behold, and speaks to their overall excellence. Nobody is quite like these guys, and we're lucky they keep coming back for more. Check out the high point of this outing (which is sort of akin to picking the smartest person at a MENSA convention, but whatever), the boiling frenzy of "Living Zoo," which builds momentum like a runaway freight train before smashing your brain to pieces.
We'll close with a "just cuz" bit and a link to a classic from the legendary Replacements. These guys were one of the first bands that were mine alone -- not an inheritance from Moms' or Pops' considerable catalog of rock or soul records -- and something I listened to relentlessly as a kid. I still remember when the strange new girl at school Sarah gave me a cassette with my name on it (not realizing it was the album title and not a "To:" label) while we were sitting in home room one day. I walked home that night, popped it on, and haven't stopped listening since. Westerberg and Co always walked the line between brash, snotty punk and big hearted pop, and they formed a significant part of the soundtrack for my youth. (Along with The Smiths, the other band I discovered that year, after swiping a cassette of Louder than Bombs from my cousin.) I got a chance to see them this weekend (for a measly twelve bucks!?!?) and felt lucky to close out some unfinished business by finally seeing them live. They were, are, and forever will be fantastic, so revel in one of their classics from that cassette that changed my childhood, "Little Mascara."
Until next time, my friends... -- Bobby
It's an album that's meant to be digested whole, with each track reinforcing the boozy warmth of its predecessor -- from the quiet violence of the opening "There are Ways to get What you Want" to the closing enigma "Grass Girl," there's not a clunker in the bunch. Standouts include "Let Their Faces All Blur Out" with its punkish energy and growling guitar, and its fraternal twin "My Conscience Doesn't Work in the New World," as well as the languid "What Calms you Down, Freaks me Out." My favorite remains the jaunty lead single, "Beginning of the End," though. It captures everything I've mentioned above -- mysterious lyrics, a buoyant energy, and a warmth that radiates from Swann's shimmering voice. It's a great track on an equally great debut; like a riddle you can't quite solve, but can't get out of your head. Definitely worth keeping tabs on him in the coming years. Check it out here:
Next up is the return of a long-time fave, the Idaho heroes Built to Spill, who charge back from a six year hiatus (their longest to date) with their eight album, Untethered Moon. What's remarkable about these guys is how relentlessly solid they are -- from song to song and album to album, they almost never miss a step. The same goes here -- from the opening assault of "All Our Songs" to the closing epic "When I'm Blind," the band offers another near flawless set of songs to add to their already considerable arsenal. There's the smoldering burn of "Some Other Song" and "Another Day;" the headbomb of "C.R.E.B.," which is loaded with the band's patented riffs and tempo shifts; and the double shot of "Never Be the Same" and "Horizon to Cliff," which capture the band's softer side and the sweetness of frontman Doug Martsch's voice. Honestly the worst thing I could think to say is that the closing track could use a slight trim, as the noodling in the middle occasionally seems aimless. (Though I'm sure will sound incredible live as it gives Martsch and Co some space to show off their considerable guitar licks and is vintage BTS, meandering off on some strange side paths before coming back to the main road like magic, so I'm reluctant to even levy that minor critique.)
It's pretty remarkable when you come to think of it. Played side by side with their previous albums, you'd be hard pressed not only to tell which was recorded in 2015 and which was recorded 20 years ago, you'd also be hard pressed to pick a favorite (or say which is "weakest," to take the opposite perspective, if such a condition exists for these guys). To be that consistent for that long (over two decades! Countries have fallen apart faster than that) is something to behold, and speaks to their overall excellence. Nobody is quite like these guys, and we're lucky they keep coming back for more. Check out the high point of this outing (which is sort of akin to picking the smartest person at a MENSA convention, but whatever), the boiling frenzy of "Living Zoo," which builds momentum like a runaway freight train before smashing your brain to pieces.
We'll close with a "just cuz" bit and a link to a classic from the legendary Replacements. These guys were one of the first bands that were mine alone -- not an inheritance from Moms' or Pops' considerable catalog of rock or soul records -- and something I listened to relentlessly as a kid. I still remember when the strange new girl at school Sarah gave me a cassette with my name on it (not realizing it was the album title and not a "To:" label) while we were sitting in home room one day. I walked home that night, popped it on, and haven't stopped listening since. Westerberg and Co always walked the line between brash, snotty punk and big hearted pop, and they formed a significant part of the soundtrack for my youth. (Along with The Smiths, the other band I discovered that year, after swiping a cassette of Louder than Bombs from my cousin.) I got a chance to see them this weekend (for a measly twelve bucks!?!?) and felt lucky to close out some unfinished business by finally seeing them live. They were, are, and forever will be fantastic, so revel in one of their classics from that cassette that changed my childhood, "Little Mascara."
Until next time, my friends... -- Bobby
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