The Minimum Blues

The Best Thing I Heard This Week: The Black Keys' El Camino

2012-01-31T08:47:00.001-05:00

First, read this. Great. Now that it's out of the way, we should celebrate how magnificent El Camino is. It's nigh unfathomable that the Black Keys would release this already, as the last phenomenal record, Brothers, was released less than a year ago. This record finds the Black Keys both celebrating this winning streak and providing the rustiest, dustiest, and yet cleanest pop record they've ever made.

El Camino was produced by Danger Mouse (Brian Burton), whose production they eschewed when recording last year's epic, Brothers. Whether it's the influence of Burton (who shares composition credit with Auerbach for every song), or just something else within the Keys, this record is tighter, faster, and hits harder than anything they've done before. It's a bit of surprise, given 2008's Attack and Release, in which Burton's production felt heavy-handed at times, drowning the Keys in sound, who for their part sounded unfocused. Producing Brothers by themselves made sense, even if it could have been sharper. But if Brothers was the rough draft, El Camino is the final draft, the masterpiece, a super-slick hook-heavy album of classic rock and roll.

For all the talk of production, it would mean nothing if guitarist and singer Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney didn't have a helluva hand for writing great guitar hooks and thunderous choruses. The best of these is "Run Right Back," where a warped falsetto guitar hook meets a more chugging one layered over it. The song feels new and old all at once, sounding like something that would be used in a Quentin Tarantino film, a classic yet not stale sound.

El Camino rarely pauses for its listeners, though when it does, it does so well. "Little Black Submarine" is the one reprieve from the breakneck pace. It begins with just Auerbach and an acoustic guitar, while an organ fades in eventually. I'm not sure that part is notable, other than the fact that the listener's ears need said reprieve after the first three tracks on album. Then after two minutes, the Keys remember what they set out to do, steal a Tom Petty guitar lick, and bring the noise.

Auerbach, Carney, and Burton do well to mix their highs and lows. On "Hell of a Season," they mix Auerbach's staccato guitar with Carney's heavy drums, and one can't help but stomp one's foot along with the tune, especially in the chorus. "Dead and Gone" uses a similar technique, this time with Auerbach's guitar providing the bass and the treble. Bells and "nah-nah-nah's" help flesh out the track, which is equally foot-stomp worthy in its own right.

I can't pinpoint it, but mostly this record reminds me of Creedence Clearwater Revival (and not this). El Camino is the closest thing I've heard to a classic rock record that's been released in my lifetime, and the best thing I've heard this week.

The Black Keys are the Sad Keys

2012-01-31T08:46:00.003-05:00

I have no idea what it is like to write, record, and release a piece of music, so I'm starting from a position of ignorance here. That said, if I was to do so, my first objective would be to have as many people hear that music as possible. So I was disappointed to learn last week that the Black Keys would not be allowing their new record, El Camino, to be streamed on music services such as MOG and Spotify.

I'm an unabashed fan of the Black Keys, El Camino included, but it's hard to understand this decision. About a year ago, I heard the Black Keys' Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney on NPR's Fresh Air, justifying the licensing of their music to various commercial interests. For me, it needed no justification. Of course the Black Keys should license their music. All of the results were beneficial--the profits made would help subsidize further albums, and more people would be able to hear their music. That's awesome. I want the Black Keys to make more records, I want Auerbach and Carney to live comfortably, and I want more people to hear their music.

Well, that happened. Brothers was a popular and critical sucess, reaching #3 on the Billboard Chart and being named the second best album of the year by Rolling Stone.[1. All of this from the Wikipedia page.]

So hearing that the Black Keys would not allow El Camino to be streamed was a bit of a shock. The first question of any fan, myself included, was likely "is this about money?'[1. Some artists, including Coldplay, have refused to stream their music, claiming that a listener must play a song between 100 and 150 songs to reach the equivalent of one purchase on iTunes.] Do the Black Keys, who will sell hundreds of thousands of copies of El Camino, embark on a nationwide arena tour, and who sold out Madison Square Garden in 15 minutes, really need more money? So much that they cannot let anyone stream their record? We can never answer that question, and I'm not even sure it's the right one. Maybe we should be asking about the logic behind the decision itself.

The discussion on the issue so far assumes that it is a smart financial decision to refuse to allow your record to be streamed. That may, however, not be the case. Most of my friends who listen to music do it almost exclusively through (legal) streaming services. Some of them buy records that they hear in that service if they really like them. I'm guessing that many of them never hear records that aren't available to stream, such as El Camino. These people will not be buying El Camino, much less hearing it. Further, is the next guy or gal in charge of finding music for their company's Kia Sorrento commercial or Justified preview doing the same thing?[1. Justified and the Black Keys are a great match. This needs to happen.] What if he or she misses a fantastic song like "Run Right Back" because they only buys music that they can stream first, and "Run Right Back" isn't available?

In the end, the real tragedy here is that fewer people will hear El Camino, which, rest assured, is a truly fantastic record. It's worth buying at your local record store or on iTunes, I just wish you could stream it (legally) first.

Dan Auerbach by CC Chapman
Patrick Carney by Kate.Gardiner
Black Keys by Stepan Mazurov

The Black Keys are the Sad Keys

2012-01-31T08:46:00.002-05:00

Pop-Conscious: Drake-Take Care

2012-01-31T08:46:00.001-05:00

From our second-favorite Degrassi alum (all praise be to Jake Epstein) comes Drake's second record, Take Care. In a year where we were not graced with Kanye West's presence (Watch the Throne does not count), Drake is an acceptable and at times magnificent substitute. The record is unsurprisingly polarizing (similar to any Ye record), and finds Drake mining his own inner thoughts to produce some of the most self-aware pop/rap/R&B that will invade the public consciousness this year. However, I can't help but be troubled by the thought that while Take Care is technically proficient and creative, it might not be all that much fun to listen to.

The production on Take Care has been lauded for good reason. "Look What You've Done" is emotional and raw but I don't know how many times you could sit through it. [1. "It's like '06 in your backyard, I'm in love with Jade / And I'm still in love, just when it's that real is when it doesn't fade / And my father living in Memphis now -- he can't come this way / Over some minor charges and child support that just wasn't paid / Damn, boo-hoo, sad story, black American dad story".] Still, there are little touches of brilliant production all over Take Care which keep the lengthy record from growing stale. The way producer Noah "40" Shebib kills the piano chord reverberations on "The Real Her" is stunning. Drake's lyrics are up to the task as well, as he tells us: "Live for today / plan for tomorrow / party tonight / party tonight." And while "Shot for Me" is an sigh-inducing traditional track (if only because we know Drake is capable of more), the last 30 seconds are amazing the way the Shebib plays with the synth. Also notable is the Shebib/Drake/The Weeknd combination on "Crew Love" where Drake sets the scene ("smoking weed under star projectors / I guess we'll never know what Harvard gets us") and then the reverberating synths and cymbals (done with meticulous care--you can hear the symbals move up and down a scale) take over.

Whereas Kanye tended to use a sledgehammer to demolish the current pop/rap consciousness, Drake takes a scalpel and extracts what he wants from it. Drake is at his best when he's at his most minimal, taking none of the over-used and bloated traditional rap tropes. So while Ye's sledgehammer resulted in marvelous bombast, Drake's scalpel is nearly silent in its maliciousness. "Marvin's Room" has all of the intimacy of Kanye with none of the cacophony (though at times the song sounds a lot like 808s and Heartbreak). That's not a plus or a minus. Or maybe it's both. Stark production on "Doing it Wrong" highlights Drake's raw emotions but also features 80s synths mixed with harmonica. And, amazingly, it works.

The most disappointing thing about Take Care is that the most energetic moments on the record turn out to be the most boring. "Headlines" sounds like a Kanye B-side with Drake auto-tuning his voice to poor effect. I find myself completely distracted by the end of the song. "Cameras" suffers from a similar fate. Drake's flow is frustratingly lazy and the production fails to hold up its end of the bargain (rare for this record, which is immaculately produced otherwise). Drake's soliloquy on the opening track "Over My Dead Body" rings false at worst and trite at best. These ruts keep Take Care from me entertaining any thoughts of it being some sort of masterstroke.

Luckily, it looks like the next single will be "Make Me Proud," which features Nicki Minaj with a blushingly clever and vulgar verse. Speaking of which, Drake does a better job with his guest stars than Kanye has in the past. While the guest rappers on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy were at best distracting and at worst unlistenable, Drake coaxes a hell of a verse out of Andre 3000 on "The Real Her."[1. "Niggas that are married don't wanna go home / We look up to them, they wish they were us / They want some new trim / We lust for some trust / Now the both of us are colorblind / Cause the other side looks greener...Well, sitting here sad as hell / Listening to Adele, I feel you baby / Someone like you, more like someone unlike you / Or someone that's familiar maybe / And I can tell that she wants a baby / And I can yell "Girl, that shit crazy!".] Drake himself is clever throughout the record, though my favorite is on the title track, where he quips "it's my birthday and I'll get high if I want to." This record is the consequence of that attitude, for good and for bad. It couldn't be any other way.

The Best Thing I Heard This Week: Firehorse

2012-01-31T08:45:00.000-05:00

In all aspects of life--music, movies, sports--the idea of the “next” great thing is thrown around quite indelicately. The “next” Michael Jordan, the “next” Marilyn Monroe, the “next” Radiohead. Tragically, these comparisons usually fall far short because the comparison is made for aesthetic but not qualitative reasons. [1. The other obvious reason, now that I'm editing, is because these things are among the greatest of their time, unique and irreplaceable. There may be another player as good as Michael Jordan someday, and there are certainly bands as talented as Radiohead, but no one could ever perfectly emulate them, at least enough to make us forget.] The next Michael Jordan is anointed because he is tall, bald, and black. The next Marilyn Monroe because she is cute and blonde, and the next Radiohead because a bunch of young white men make music that isn't a 3 chord romp. The reality is that there will be no "next," despite the ESPN Magazine feature. But damn, Firehorse (singer/songwriter Leah Seigel, Steve Elliot on guitar, Tim Luntzel on bass, and Brian Wolfe with the percussion) might give the Radiohead comparison a run for its money. Of course, they'll probably never get there. But the promise that this album carries and the energy it exudes make And So They Ran Faster... the best thing I heard this week.

One of the striking things about And So They Ran Faster... is its sonic range. Much like Radiohead, Siegel and her band move fluidly between pop/rock and more dramatic and theatrical musical moments. Radiohead really comes through in the opening track, "She's a River." ~~Elliot's~~ Siegel's (I stand corrected) pogo-stick guitars on the track stand out, as she sings what sounds like an autobiographical introspection to begin the album: "she's as careless as a river / slowly carving through the ground / only rocks and roots to guide her / til she beats against the dam / don't fight / don't fight what you're made for." After the meditation, Siegel stops fighting what's she made for, and continues with the rest of the record.

The single, "Our Hearts," mines a trope that has been used before, but has at least the courtesy to do it well. Firehorse do not rush through the song, which is nice because they really let the shimmering guitars on the chorus ring through to great effect. In a way, it's a strange choice for a single because of the (lack of) pace. However, it's as feel-good of a moment as you'll get here, as Siegel sings: "be gentle with us / and we'll find our way in the end / our hearts are on fire / and hope is all we know / our hearts are on fire / and it burns in our bones / our hearts are on fire."

Elsewhere, Siegel knowingly apes Jeff Buckley on "If You Don't Want to be Alone." And while it's no "Hallelujah" or "Lilac Wine," it's a pretty good facsimile, and a damn good song. I think, however, that "My Left Eye" is my favorite slower track on the record, mostly as it displays more imagination and ingenuity. Over an anachronistic soundtrack to a sad black and white cartoon, Siegel hoarsely whispers a bard's tale of a left eye that was lost, gets drunk on Coney Island, and falls into the ocean, while its original owner struggles to decide between filling the hole with a dried rosebud or a marble. Awesome.

My personal favorite is "Machete Gang Holiday." I was hooked from the opening lines: "Step outside / dodge the muggers and the stabbers like land mines / the critics' eyes / the dive-bombing drunks / they've been drinking themselves blind / they're all illusions made of sand / we will fear no man / not even the machete gangs!" This track has the most, I don't know, sing-along potential, I guess, of any track here. It's delightfully contrasted between the darkly humorous lyrics and the soaring instrumentation (including Siegel's voice, which is at its most luminous here). Firehorse's bio, which talks mostly of Siegel, is painful to read. It's one thing to talk about your music. It's another to (have your agent?) compare yourself to Jeff Buckly, P.J. Harvey, and Florence and the Machine. With all the name-checking going on (also includes Prince, Nick Drake, the Velvet Underground, Joni Mitchell, and Led Zeppelin!), it's tragic to snub Radiohead here. Still, while Firehorse ain't the next Radiohead, they're still a damn good band with one of the better records I've heard this year, and "Machete Gang Holiday" is the highlight of the record.

Song of the Week: Lana Del Rey's Video Games

2012-01-31T08:44:00.000-05:00

I’m not sure there are many reasons to like Lana Del Rey (nee Elizabeth Grant). A boarding school brat out of NY and CT, she is the daughter of internet domain name investor (profession?) Rob Grant. Her stage name was chosen by her management team after a failed record under “Lizzie Grant.” But...this song is awesome, and thus it is the song of the week. Do yourself a favor and listen to it without the video (which is supremely distracting).

"Video Games" is a terrifyingly accurate assessment of modern domestic life for the suburban set. Del Rey explained this in an interview, stating the song was about:

A boy. I think we came together because we were both outsiders. It was perfect. But I think with that contentment also comes sadness. There was something heavenly about that life – we'd go to work and he'd play his video games - but also it was maybe too regular. At the time I was becoming disillusioned with being a singer and was very happy to settle with a boyfriend who I loved, but in the end we both lost sight of our dreams. Maybe there's something not-so-special about domestic life.

Is Lana Del Rey the one ring that rules them all, uniting indie and pop? A quick listen to the rest of her music says the likely answer is no, but this song has the potential to do something else that is rare. "Video Games" is a strange choice for a single, if only because of the emotional tenor it chooses. Much like many songs by the National, the pop elements are there in the song, but it's probably something that you're more likely to want to listen to alone than with friends. Thus, "Video Games" is a track that you're likely to hear both on top 40 radio and on your too-cool roommate's headphones as he/she works on their master's thesis. That's almost as big of an accomplishment as this song is itself.

Song of the Week: Atlas Sound-Mona Lisa

2012-01-31T08:43:00.002-05:00

Atlas Sound is the solo project of Deerhunter's Bradford Cox, and the releases are often eclectic but threaded with golden bits of pop. Rarely, however, does a whole song come to pop fruition like "Mona Lisa", off of the new-ish Parallax. "Mona Lisa" isn't exactly new--a demo version was released on Bedroom Databank Volume 3--but it's the most candy-sweet thing Cox has ever done solo, and all the better for it. [1. If you like it, both are worth a listen. It's like the difference between the Velvet Underground's Loaded and Fully Loaded. And it sounds a bit like the Velvet Underground as well.] The beginning is Cox doing his best Buddy Holly impression (see the album cover, above), asking "how many fantasies / were interrupted by / a hundred galaxies / that were drifting by?" The chorus, however, is more trademark Cox, with the driving drums, chugging guitar, and obscure lyrics "The Mona Lisa's got you all." The mix of Cox the crooner and Cox the sound experimenter balances perfectly on "Mona Lisa," and it's miles better than anything on that Rihanna album.

The Best Thing I Heard This Week: Caveman's Coco Beware

2012-01-31T08:43:00.001-05:00

My parents have developed a Thanksgiving tradition that tends to ensure an interesting night every year. When I was growing up, it was always a small gathering at my Grandmother's house. After she passed, we spent a few years in limbo before my parents decided to start hosting a gathering. We get the usual smattering of family (aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins), but we also get a few...we'll call them stragglers--all are welcome under my parents' roof that evening. Everyone brings a dish and then can relax while the festivities begin. Bottles of wine are opened, quickly emptied, and then discarded. The din rises slowly over the early evening, coming to a crescendo as the meal is finally ready, and everyone shuts up to eat and maybe sober up, just a little. For my part, I usually take care of the music, but was woefully unprepared this year because of some technical issues with my computer and external hard drive. Regardless, I grabbed a few cd's out of my car when we arrived, including Caveman's new release, Coco Beware. It ended up being the perfect music for a relaxed, informal Thanksgiving dinner.

The best song on Coco Beware is "Old Friend." Comparisons made to the Shins are not far off. It's mid-tempo, as most of the songs on this record are, something that is tough to do well and keep a listener entertained. But everything about this song is near perfect. Matthew Iwanusa's vocals are vulnerable but not whiny, and the story is affecting ("and I sat down / on the lawn / and you tell me that she stayed out / oh oh oh / everyone's around / you stayed in tonight / it was right on time / 'he was just an old friend'"). The synths shimmer but aren't too sweet, and no one sound overwhelms all the rest. This is a great pop song.

The record's opener, "A Country's King of Dreams," has some dreamy, shimmery pop elements to it, a la Deerhunter, but the percussion is more akin to a relaxed version of the Dodos. Indeed, the most upbeat song on the record, "My Time," also has elements of the Dodos sound, with the group "Whoah-ohh" vocals and strident percussion. Coco Beware changes pace well, with songs like "Great Life" slowing the record down a bit without losing focus. "Decide" picks up the pace, and sounds like some of Caribou's Andorra. The tough thing about this record is that it isn't easily defined. It's not slow or upbeat, it's not raucous or subdued. Coco Beware treads a middle-ground that few records effectively do.

So whether it was circumstance or fate that brought Caveman's Coco Beware to our Thanksgiving Dinner, it worked better than I could have imagined. Much like the stragglers we bring in every year (and I mean that in the most endearing way--the stragglers are the best part), the music fit perfectly into the dynamic of the evening. That moment when you sit down to dinner, mostly drunk, appetite subdued from the 7 glasses of Cote du Rhone you had in the past 2 hours, musical choice is of vast importance. Too soft and you're passed out on the dinner table, face awash in a melange of cranberry dressing, mashed potatoes, and tofurkey. Too loud and a headache is induced, the rooms swirls, and you awake the next morning to find the same mix of bastardized fruit, potatoes, and turkey substitute on the back of your head. Cavemna's Coco Beware is not only the best thing I heard this week, but it saved many of us from a Thanksgiving disaster.

Pop-Conscious: Foster The People-Torches

2012-01-31T08:42:00.002-05:00

I somehow missed this band as they fell into a strange gap between popular music and "indie" music. My guess now is that because of the popularity of "Pumped Up Kicks" and the usage of "Don't Stop (Color on the Walls)" in a Nissan Versa commercial, Foster the People are falling more toward the pop side of things. A small amount of research confirms my hunch: Torches peaked in the top 10 in the U.S., Canada, and Australia. As such, I figured it was time I gave the record a listen.

Early in the record, you can see where the comparisons to MGMT come from. On the opener, "Helena Beat," the falsetto vocals and anthemic chorus are all there. However, after hearing MGMT, this sounds a little color by the numbers for me. The bad news (there's good later), is that at times, the record gets much worse. "I Would do Anything for You" repulsed me a little--it's cloyingly sweet. The record's closer, "Warrant," suffers from a similar affliction. I would also classify "Hustling (Life on the Nickel)" as pretty damn annoying.

However, Torches also has at least three tracks worth your listen. The single, "Pumped Up Kicks" is pretty interesting. At first listen, this being the single is surprising given the distortion of the vocals at the beginning and the medium tempo of the song. However, the chorus clears that up. It's kind of like Peter Bjorn and John with less energy. The vocals sound a bit like a Gorillaz song. Also, there is whistling and handclaps, so that's fun. I think that "Don't Stop (Color on the Walls)" is a good song, but I can't separate it from the Nissan commercial, so I'm honestly not sure. "Waste," however, I'm sure is pretty good. It's probably the best song on the record. It's also the most dissonant song on the record, something that I don't think is a coincidence.

The telling thing, in the end, is that I'm sitting here having to force myself to listen to Foster the People again so I can write this, when all I really want to do is hear that Fort Lean EP again, or listen to the new Caveman record. Foster the People's Torches isn't a bad record (like Coldplay's Mylo Xyloto), but it isn't a great one either. If MGMT's Oracular Spectacular was a bar of fine dark chocolate with sea salt, Torches is a handful of Hershey Kisses. Torches is not as well formed, not nearly as delicious, and lacks the contrast that made Oracular Spectacular so grand. MGMT's record was finely crafted, with care, while at times Torches feels a bit tossed off, mass-produced, and a little too sweet. Still, there are times when you just need something sweet, and Torches will do that trick just fine.

The Best Thing I Heard This Week: Fort Lean

2012-01-31T08:42:00.001-05:00

Rarely have I been so floored by a four song EP, but Fort Lean's self-titled debut is simply fantastic, and the best thing I heard this week. Fort Lean sound like someone gave them a Walkmen starter-kit and they really just fuckin ran with it. It's all there--the jangly guitars and tomahawk percussion--but with an infectious energy that makes it less derivative and more kinetic than anything I've heard recently. "One Beach Holiday" opens the EP at a breakneck pace, with a guitar line that is simple, catchy, and perfect for a song about a beach holiday (fast forward to 1:13 in the video).

After "Dreams (Never Come True)," which comes off like a more soulful Morning Benders song, "High Definition" picks up the pace once again. The song, and sorry to keep harping on this, recalls the Walkmen's "In the New Year." The guitar opening, the restrained crescendo as the song moves along, and, finally, the release after 3 minutes as singer Keenan Mitchell allows himself the resolution that the song begs for.

More than anything else though, this EP is simply fun to listen to. The EP's closer, "Perfect," is nearly that. When Mitchell tells me "there is a place that we can go / where it will never rain or snow / we go outside / the weather's perfect all the time," I'm ready for that journey and even more ready to hear a full length record from this promising Brooklyn band. I strongly encourage you to go here and listen to the songs and buy the EP, it'll be the best $4 you spend today (unless you really, really needed that coffee this morning).

Music Roundup

2012-01-31T08:41:00.000-05:00

I have listened to a number of records recently which weren't quite good enough to garner the illustrious title of "The Best Thing I Heard This Week."[1. We take ourselves very seriously here at The Minimum Blues. That's the royal "we," for those keeping track.] Nonetheless, they also don't deserve the derision that I sent Coldplay's way last week. In alphabetical order:

Megafaun-Megafaun: I am annoyed by bands releasing self-titled records that are not their first record. This is a gimmick that needs to end, now. There are some good songs in here ("Real Slow," "Resurrection," "Get Right," and "You are the Light"), but there's a lot of other stuff which kind of clogs the record. I respect a band's right to be experimental and try different things, but it really takes away from the "listenability" of this record. This band is ridiculously talented[1. So much so that they could afford to lose Justin Vernon of Bon Iver a few records back and still make great music.] and can write a fucking song, but it's a shame you have to go digging for it on this record.

Real Estate-Days: Is to their first record as Room on Fire was to Is this It.[1. Meaning, at first blush it sounds the same. However, after more listens, you realize that the band has polished their sound and released a better record.] The guy on the OC would have loved this band. Still, the whole thing sounds a bit innocuous--a pleasant listen but not a life-changing one. Best Songs: "Easy," "Green Aisles," "It's Real," "Out of Tune," "Wonder Years," and "All the Same."[1. As you might imagine, looking for "Real Estate" songs on Youtube is pretty tough.]

Unknown Mortal Orchestra-Unknown Mortal Orchestra: A few of my friends love this album. As in, truly love, as in, this band is the next big thing for them. I like the record, but I just don't see that. Some of the songs are good (I like the opener "Ffunny Ffriends") but there is no sustained greatness on this record. Also, I'm kind of over misspelling all of the words in your song titles. The production here is minimal, and everything is under a haze of distortion, which I like. The guitar sounds great. This record sound a little bit like early Dr. Dog, but I don't think the songwriting is quite as strong. Nerve Damage is very good. Maybe a little Nobunny there. So while the record is a quick listen, I was expecting a little more to be honest. Best Songs: "Ffunny Ffriends," "Nerve Damage," "Thought Ballune," and "How Can U Luv Me."

Van Hunt-What Were You Hoping For?: "North Hollywood" sounds weirdly funky/catchy offbeat. Changes pace into more of a rocker: "Watching You Go Crazy is Driving Me Insane." I'd say this is a very LA album, but I've never spent time there, so I can only say it's an album that is at least very LA stereotype. There's even a tongue-in-cheek analysis of "Designer Jeans" tucked in there. The beginning of "Plum" starts out like M. Ward and ends up like a Tribe Called Quest.

Wild Flag-Wild Flag: Feels a little light, more like a hobby and less like a job. Not unpleasant to listen to, but doesn't grab you like anything that Sleater-Kinney used to do. Songs like "Glass Tambourine" seem to lack any real ambition. This record doesn't have the catchiness of Woods or hunger of One Beat. "Electric Band" is a catchy tune, like a lot of the surfer girl pop (Dum Dum Girls). Best Songs: Electric Band, Romance, Short Version.

Youth Lagoon-The Year of Hibernation: This is the best record of this bunch. If the vocals weren't coated in a layer of fuzz rendering them nearly unintelligible, this would have been the best thing I heard this week. The crazy thing is that this was made by a 22 year old kid from Boise, Idaho during his winter break in college. You know what I did over my winter break in college? Yeah, neither do I. Trevor Story's sound is like that of Antlers but not as bone-crunchingly sad. Sometimes, I think it also sounds like a more pleasant Wolf Parade. The Year of Hibernation has a cool melody which keeps mutating and repeating throughout the record. Despite some long songs, it ends up being only a 35 minute record. Recommended Songs: "Afternoon," "Cannons," "Daydream," "Montana," "Posters," and "Seventeen."

Photo by nffcnnr

Pop-Conscious: Coldplay's Mylo Xyloto

2012-01-31T08:40:00.001-05:00

Coldplay is going to sell more records and concert tickets than every other band I've talked about on here, combined.[1. It's science.] Which, in and of itself, is a good reason to take 44.1 minutes[1. According to iTunes. Again, with the science.] and give an impression of Coldplay's new record, Mylo Xyloto. Wow, that is a ridiculous album title. It's their 5th full length record, following 2008's Viva la Vida, which was terrible. Actually, I thought 2005's X&Y was pretty awful as well, so I haven't liked a Coldplay record since 2002's A Rush of Blood to the Head. I was in fucking high school when that came out. But it was good. "The Scientist" and "Clocks" are good songs. Let's see if Coldplay can recapture any of that magic...

Photo by Jeremy M Farmer

1. Mylo Xyloto: It hurts to type that. The opening sounds like the Beatles, which I guess is not weird, as Chris Martin probably feels like he can a must make a record as good as them. This is a huge band. Do they feel the pressure to create something great every time out? Or have they resigned themselves to the fact that they cannot do that? Moreover, would it matter either way?
2. Hurts Like Heaven: This sound isn't awful. There are textures here (it's almost twee in parts), but man, the chorus is bad: "you use your heart as a weapon / and it hurts like heaven"

3. Paradise: Finally the first noticeable piano. A little late for that, no? The bass here is stronger than I would have expected. But hearing Martin sing "she dreamed of para...para...paradise" really isn't pleasant. The piano gets caught under strings after the first verse, which kind of sucks. This chorus is truly unlistenable. Please make it stop.

4. Charlie Brown: Ohh man, bad song title. Nobody could possibly make a good song about Charlie Brown. I should do a song title workshop. Plus, the opening sounds like Alvin and the Chipmunks, not Charlie Brown. The song attempts to use that soft loud dynamic perfected by the grunge bands of the late 80s/early 90s, but Martin can't bring himself to be quiet enough to make it work. There are some real production issues here. I wonder if they had someone else doing this if it would/could actually sound better.

5. Us Against the World: Ok so you wrote a ballad, and your voice is nice, but what did you actually say, Mr. Martin?[1. Turns out...not much. The lyrics are so vague I'm having trouble imparting any meaning whatsoever. And unless you're Robert Pollard, that's not a good sign.] Wait, I'm sorry, you wrote a song called "Us Against the World?" Are you serious? In a purely musical sense[1. No politics on this blog. This is the Minimum Blues, not the maximum.] you are the 1%. So...you can't sing a song where you play the underdog. But it would be pretty badass if you wrote a song about being the musical 1%. Now that, that I would listen to happily.

6. M.M.I.X.: So...there are three "transitional" songs on this record, running under a minute, without vocals. That's kind of a new things for Coldplay. This one serves as the intro for the next song, and nothing else. Waste of space.

7. Every Teardrop is a Waterfall: So this is the single, eh? Not really that impressive to start. A synth and acoustic guitar. The electric guitar sounds very Edge/U2-esque. How many times are heaven and heart referenced on this record? Whatever it is, it's too many. This song feels like being really tired but unable to fall asleep because you drank too much caffeine. The video is worse.

8. Major Minus: I actually like the opening guitar lick, but...too soon after that Coldplay feel very focused on becoming the next U2. Everything has to become bombastic within the first minute, it seems. There's no texture here, and it ruins what actually could have been a strong song for the record/band. I mean, I understand that you're going to play in every fucking arena you can fly your private jet near and the song either has to make your fans cry or go crazy, but you can add that all at the live show later, right? No room for solid mid-range tracks on the record? Sighs. Still, this may be the best song on the record.

9. U.F.O.: And on cue, here's another sad acoustic cut. But...U.F.O. is your song title? Come ON guys, we can do better than this. Teenage girls don't want heartfelt ballads called "U.F.O." Couldn't we have called it "A Long Way to Go?" At least that would have been innocuous. The best thing about this song is that it's only 2:18 long.

10. Princess of China: Well hello, Rihanna. You could have picked a better project to collaborate on than this, right? The synth sounds like something Kanye West trashed four years ago.

11. Up in Flames: Another ballad? You have got to be kidding me.

12. A Hopeful Transmission: Why do you give song titles to 30 second instrumentals that serve no purpose? Just make it part of the next song, or leave it out.

13. Don't Let it Break Your Heart: I was really hoping this was going to be Neil Young cover, but it's not. This song is really loud. I guess there's no need to worry about compression of FM radio if you do all your own audio compression in-house.

14. Up With the Birds: Ugh. We're finally here, and we are ending, surprise surprise, with another slow song. How is one supposed to sort through this dreck? Actually, there's a bit of a reprieve about 2 minutes in. The song changes pace some, we get some acoustic guitar, and while the words are insufferable, it's musically interesting on some small level.

Final Verdict: Unless you loved X&Y and Viva La Vida...you're probably going to want to skip this. Coldplay are doing nothing to suggest they may be able to recapture the sound that first made them famous. There are literally hundreds of records in 2011 that are going to be a better listen than this.[1. Again, science.]

Pick-Me-Up Songs (Part 2)

2012-01-31T08:39:00.000-05:00

On to the second disc! You remember the rules from yesterday, no? Ok then!

1. The Shins-Sleeping Lessons: This song truly feels like pulling out of a funk--it's a minute and a half of James Mercer's distorted falsetto and keys before light percussion and acoustic guitar come in, and nearly two and a half before it builds beyond that. When Mercer was writing Wincing the Night Away, he was suffering from insomnia, though a more visceral emotion and reaction are present in the song. While the rest of Wincing the Night Away failed to live up to expectations (save "Australia"), this opener is a fine way to start the record.

2. Wilco-Shot in the Arm: Jeff Tweedy is at his most poetic here, with couplets like: "The ashtray says / you were up all night" and "you finally slept / while the sun caught fire." But what really makes the track are the dual refrains, first Tweedy chanting, louder and louder "Maybe all I need / is a shot in the arm / something in my veins / bloodier than blood." Second, and more mellow, "what you once were / isn't what you want to be / anymore."

3. Ted Leo-Biomusicology: The opening guitar riff is reminiscent of the Arcade Fire's "Wake Up" (or vice versa), which is a good start. Maybe this song is "Wake Up"'s cooler, more thoughtful older brother. If that guitar wasn't enough to get you going, Leo ends the song singing: "all in all / we cannot stop singing / we cannot start sinking/ we swim until it ends / they may kill / and we may be parted / but we will ne'er be broken-hearted."

4. The Velvet Underground-Rock & Roll: Somehow, still, the Velvet Underground are not appreciated to the extent they should be. For four records between 1967-1970, they were as good as any band out there not named the Beatles. Forgive Lou Reed for his latter sins (most recently, Lulu) and enjoy those four records (The Velvet Underground & Nico, White Light/White Heat, The Velvet Underground, and Loaded). My favorite is the 4th, Loaded, which is the most pop-heavy of the quartet. Rock & Roll is one of the stunning tracks off of Loaded, as Reed loosely spins the tale of midwest Jenny, whose life was saved by Rock & Roll! Yeah Rock & Roll!

5. Andrew Bird-Way Out West: No link for this bad boy, you'll have to find it on your own. But it's well worth it.

6. Built to Spill-In the Morning: Is there any other way to feel than "In the morning / feeling half right?" And while Built to Spill and Doug Martsch are known better for their virtuoso guitars than Martsch's off-kilter voice, the lyrics here do capture the feelings of overwhelming mornings: "Today is flat beneath the weight of that / next day next day next day next day."

7. Band of Horses-Funeral: Maybe there's something morbid about the song ("at every occasion / I'm ready for a funeral), but the determination in Ben Bridwell's voice and the strident guitars makes this an uplifting experience as a funeral could be.

8. Paul Simon-50 Ways to Leave Your Lover: Another odd choice, perhaps, but let me explain. Leaving your lover is actually tougher than being left, I'm pretty sure. This song provides (nearly) 50 ways to leave your lover, but also the more comforting realization that it's something that many people must do at some point.

9. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah-The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth: More for the overall feel of the song than anything else. Singer Alec Ounsworth is at his warbly best here on the vocals, carefully intertwined with the call and response guitars used on the song.

10. The Walkmen-Rue the Day: For some reason, this song feels like Christmas to me, more specifically, coming home for Christmas from college. "When we were introduced / we both laughed / cause we've been friends since long ago / and then today / but I never thought of you one single day / but yesterday / I remembered driving with no headlights / we would tiptoe out in the evening / never done such things before / but I have never frowned once / thinking of you since / I'd be lying if / I said your name never came up / as I'd be thinking of just how I'd like to cash my days in now / and all I ever do is think of yesterday / man it's hard to stand up straight all of the time." Hamilton Leithauser's drunken cadence waned a little on later records, but it's at its best here. The coup de grace is the end of the song, as Leithauser's wisdom shines through his inebriated vocals: "oh there's a memory calling / calling way too loud and way to strong / twisting all the bad things into good / I'm a lucky guy now / but I'll never know until its gone / yeah I'll never know it till its gone."

11. MGMT-Weekend Wars: Fight against the need to be productive on your weekends. Crush those plans to paint your walls. It's difficult to win unless you're bored. Easy to remember, hard to do.

12. YACHT-Psychic City: I remember running through the streets and National Mall of downtown DC listening to this song. Five minutes of original bliss, a great song after a move to a new place.

13. Modest Mouse-Float On: If you forgive the opening lines (which ape Alanis Morisette's "Ironic"), you have the centerpiece of the fantastic Good News for People Who Love Bad News, a melody used throughout the record, and a song to pull you out of whatever doldrums you're in at the moment.

14. Micachu-Vulture: Containing one of my favorite lines of all time ("half of my leg is still in my coffee"), this opener to 2009's Jewellery is catchy in a way that this type of experimental pop rarely is. Everything feels sped up to a degree which feels out of control, yet Micah Levi manages to reign it all in, more or less, to a disastrously beautiful effect.

15. Black Lips-Bad Kids: A little punk, but not in pretentious way, a little pop, but not in a cheap way, a little drunk, but not in an out of control way, and a lot of great guitar and humor.

16. Deerhunter-Don't Cry: A distant cousin of "Biomusicology" or "Wake Up," with the guitar catchiness and oh ah whoaaaaaaaa's, but a little off-kilter, just like the rest of their catalogue.

17. Dodos-Red and Purple: It has the resplendent percussion that made Visiter so fantastic, and the emotions-on-sleeve approach that really put the record over the top. It's a heartfelt invitation to the heartbroken: "come and join us in the trenches / red and purple / by our sides."

18. Avett Brothers-Shame: A normal sad sack Avett Brothers song? Um, no. Sure, it starts that way, but man oh man, I still think the end of the song is one of the best things they've ever done. They hit the bridge a little after 2:15, and it's a Beach Boys song from there on out, "the truth the be known / the truth be told / my heart was always fairly cold / posing to be as warm as yours." And yeah, there's boatloads of shame there, but that bridge is uplifting as any words the Avetts have ever spouted.

19. Noah and the Whale-Love of an Orchestra: Sandwiched in the middle of Noah and the Whale's gut-wrenching breakup record The First Days of Spring is "Love of an Orchestra," a moment of bright light in an album otherwise filled with late, lonely nights. The songlover's best refrain: "I know I'll never be lonely / I got songs in my blood / I'm carrying all of the love of an orchestra."

20. Solomon Burke-Everybody Needs Somebody to Love: When the King of Rock & Soul tells us that "if everybody was to sing this song, it would save the whole world," it's hard not to believe him. So when you hear his voice, pulled taut like the string of a guitar, the effect is palatable not just because of his voice, but also because of his convincingly earnest nature. And when he ends it by saying "I need you (you, you, you, you)," the listener is right in step. I'm guessing that when he requests "I just want one woman to stand up and say 'I love you,'" he was overwhelmed by the response. Which is this world as it should be.

21. White Stripes-The Same Boy You've Always Known: Jack White was at his most snarling on White Blood Cells, and ends this song telling the listener "and if there's anything good about me / I'm the only one who knows." The guitar stomps right along with Jack, providing the necessary muscle for the defiant nature of the song.

22. The Kinks-This Time Tomorrow: Nothing more than "this time tomorrow / where will we be / on a spaceship somewhere / sailing over an empty sea..."

Bonus: Suggestions from Steven (in yesterday's comments section):

1. Ryan Adams-Chin Up, Cheer Up

2. Ryan Adams-Halloween: Had not heard this one before. Good pick.

3. Van Morrison-Starting a New Life: Van Morrison's voice alone, especially from that era, is enough to pick you up.

4. Van Morrison-You're My Woman

5. Josh Ritter-Good Man: Steven: " I mean, it admits over and over again how bad it has been and still is out there, but there are these major chords we hold on to, and you just ask a woman to swing up on your horse with you and ride into the sunset b/c despite all the bad, you’re a good man for her…a good man. Damn, I love that song."

Photo by Poppet With a Camera

Pick-Me-Up Songs (Part 1)

2012-01-30T16:02:00.001-05:00

Let's be clear about the qualifications for this list. These are not just upbeat songs, or songs that accentuate a happy mood. This is a more delicate endeavor. Pick-me-up songs must have an element of darkness already in them. For instance, you would not want to hear "Good Day Sunshine" right after you lost your job. It would seem cruel and antithetical. The song must acknowledge the pain, yet not dwell on it. Then, and only then, comes the upbeat or happy conclusion, and often it's only a shade of grey. These are not songs you listen to right before you go out, these are songs that lift you up just enough to face the day. When I started, I thought I'd only find about 20 songs for this list, but now I have over 40, so we'll split this up into two parts. Without further ado...

1. Bob Dylan-Like a Rolling Stone: Too much has likely already been written about this song, and with good reason (Greil Marcus wrote a whole book about it). In 1966, Dylan told Marvin Bronstein of CCBC in Montreal that:

I wrote that after I had quit. I'd literally quit, singing and playing--I found myself writing this song, this story, this long piece of vomit, twenty pages long, and out of it I took "Like a Rolling Stone and made it a single. And I'd never written anything like that before and it suddenly came to me that this is what I should do.

You can hear the "quit" and desperation in Dylan's voice, which is why the song is the perfect one to start off with. It's a song for someone at the bottom of things,[1. You used to / laugh about / everybody that was / hangin' out / now you don't / talk so loud / now you don't / seem so proud / about havin' to be scrounging / for your next meal / how does it feel? / how does it feel? / to be on your own? / to be without a home? / like a complete unknown / like a rolling stone.] a reflection on how they got there,[1. Once upon a time / you dressed so fine / threw the bums a dime / in your prime / didn't you? / People call / say "beware doll you're bound to fall" / you thought they were all / a-kiddin' you.] but also a reminder that things will get better. It's also one of (if not the) greatest recordings ever made.

2. Deer Tick-Dirty Dishes: I guess we're starting a little melancholy here, but worry not, things will get better. Which is, more or less, the message here on "Dirty Dishes." At the end of the song, John McCauley tells us "And that cold wind will blow / tear the skin off your nose / and you got nothing to be grateful for / except your list of wishin' / and some dirty dishes / and you wanted more / and you got left, and it hurts / oh, but it could be worse / yeah / things could be / so much worse."

3. Ryan Adams-To Be Young (Is to Be Sad, Is to Be High): Of course, one way to pick yourself up, in theory, is to self-medicate. Ryan Adams pays tribute to that folly(?) of youth here: "Oh one day when you're looking back / you were young / and man you were sad / when you're young / you get sad / when you're young / you get sad / then you get high / aw man!"

4. The Rolling Stones-Let it Bleed: Ian Stewart's piano on "Let It Bleed" makes the song. The playing ensures an upbeat, honky-tonk vibe that the Stones were known so well for, making it more barroom singalong than ballad, and ensures that we all are aware that we need someone to lean on.

5. Monsters of Folk-Whole Lotta' Losin': The gem off of an up and down collaboration between Jim James, M. Ward, and Colin Oberst, the track is emotionally complex in a surprising way. The "whole lotta' losin'" is the loss of all the good things in life, and acknowledgement of how lucky they've been thus far, and a recognition that it is to be appreciated as it will one day be gone ("one of these days / I'll be left with nothing / but memories and old times").

6. The Shins-Gone for Good (Alternate Version)[1. Yes, this is important. The alternate version is better.]: I don't know, maybe this song is too bitter for this list, but I think the bitterness in "Gone for Good" is found strength. When Mercer sings "You want to jump and dance / but you sat on your hands / and lost your only chance / go back to your hometown / get your feet on the ground / and stop fucking around / I found a fatal flaw / in the logic of love / and went out of my head / you love a sinking stone / that'll never elope / so get used to the lonesome / girl you must atone some / don't leave me your phone number there / it's not as if you care," it's an empowered bitterness.

7. My Morning Jacket-Old September Blues: Pick-me-up, Victorian style: "Put away your corset / put away your shoes / put away the old September blues."

8. Wilco-Hummingbird: Though we're overrun with metaphors for the struggle that can be life, the rapid wing-flap of the hummingbird is an apt one, as Tweedy sings: "remember to remember me / standing still in your past / floating fast like a hummingbird." It's not the lyrics here that act as a pick-me-up, but rather the steady, wing-beat piano and violin combination.

9. Peter Bjorn and John-Objects of By Affection: The opening melody is one of the most uplifting ones you'll hear, but my favorite part is the condemnation of self-loathing nostalgic melancholy: "And the question is / was I more alive then than I am now? / I happily have to disagree / I laugh more often now / I cry more often now / I am more me."

10. Arcade Fire-Wake Up: We have now come to the sing-along portion of the playlist (and my god, that guitar). Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ahhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh oh ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ahhhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (etc.).

11. LCD Soundsystem-Dance Yrself Clean: Watch the video (James Murphy really does sound like Kermit):

12. Harlem Shakes-Strictly Game: “Make a little money / take a lot of shit / feel real bad / and get over it / oh, this will be a better year.”

13. Modest Mouse-The Good Times Are Killing Me: The last track off of the brilliant Good News for People who Love Bad News has the ramshackle feel of many of the songs here, a late-night hopped-up tripped-out bleary-eyed chorus.

14. The White Stripes-Hotel Yorba: Sorry that this appears on every mixed cd I've ever made, but it's such versatile, happy song, a sort of modern "Wouldn't it be Nice": "I've been thinking / of a little place down by the lake / they got a dirty old road leading up to the house / I wonder how long it will take / till we're alone / sitting on the front porch of that home / stomping our feet on the wooden board / never gotta worry about lockin' the door."

15. The National-Geese of Beverly Road: Maybe the best song on Alligator, which is saying a lot. The drums here foreshadow the outstanding work on The Boxer, as Matt Berninger sings: "hey love / we'll get away with it / we'll run like we're awesome / and totally genius / we're the heirs to the glimmering world." I'm not sure if we're supposed to laugh or cry when he tells us "our hands are covered in cake / but I swear we didn't have any / I swear we didn't have any." It's a great description of the foreboding transition between childhood and adulthood, and the clumsiness of it all.

16. Wilco-Theologians: It's no wonder that a person who is idolized by many yet longs for a more private life would write such a song. The "theolgians" here may not be actual theologians, but people like myself who think they have some sort of insight into the life of Jeff Tweedy. The song is a reaction to being typecast or defined by others, and a vow to live life without that pressure. Tweedy threatens a retreat at the end, a self-salvation: "I'm going away / where you won't look for me / where I'm going / you cannot come / no one is ever gonna take my life from me / I say it down / a ghost is born."

17. Spoon-I Summon You: The chugging acoustic guitar is great, and remember the formula: 1) acknowledgment of difficulty ("yeah you've got the weight of the world coming down like a mother's eye") and 2) retribution ("how'd we get here / it's too late to break it off / I need a release / the signal's a cough / but that don't get me off / I summon you here, my love").

18. Neil Young-Mellow My Mind: From the bluesy harmonica in the beginning to Young's trademark croon and the appropriately sloppy guitar, this song is (not literally) note perfect. It's a well-executed plea for simpler times, "baby mellow my mind / make me feel / like a schoolboy on good time," as Young mourned the deaths of Crazy Horse guitarist Danny Whitten and friend/roadie Bruce Berry.

19. The Boy Least Likely to-I'm Glad I Hitched My Apple Wagon to Your Star: This song tells the tale of developing a mature appreciation for a failed venture, whether it be musical, love-related, or otherwise. Singer Jof Owen knowingly starts the tale "I was young and I was stupid / I had just turned seventeen," and laments "however hard we tried / it never seemed to be enough," but realizes "we never did get famous but / it made us kind of happy / and it kept me off of drugs." As such, he's glad he hitched his apple wagon to your star, whatever that means.

20. Florence and the Machine-Dog Days Are Over: All Songs Considered did a little show kind of like this blog post, and this was the one song that I felt really deserved to be included. That said, I'm going on record as saying that white-face is nearly as disturbing as black-face. Most bad-ass song with a harp? The drums are really great on this song. And the dog days are over.

21. David Bowie-Five Years: Five years! That's all we've got! We've got five years! Plays better when loud.

22. Kelley Stoltz-Wave Goodbye:

A nice way to close the first disc, with the piano that invades many of these tracks, and the lovely farewell "find a thing / that makes you happy / find a thing that / gets you high / pack your worries / in a suitcase / send them off and / wave goodbye!"

Photo by Looking Glass

The Best Thing I Heard This Week-Feist

2012-01-30T16:01:00.000-05:00

I picked up the new Feist record with some trepidation. While I'd always enjoyed a few singles ("Mushaboom", for sure), she'd never been able to hold my attention for a full album. Worse, her new record, Metals, was being given the dreaded "pretty ok, but not great" review by pretty much every outlet, ensuring a decent but sleepy record by a respected artist. So I was happily surprised when I found Metals to be not only engaging, but my favorite Feist record yet.

I imagine Leslie Feist as a sorceress, especially on "Undiscovered First." When she begins the song ("I had / what I thought / were clear / open eyes"), it sounds like an incantation, and as her voice slowly rises ("you can't unthink / a thought/ either it's there / or not") you can feel the spell (or rather, the chorus....sorry) coming on. The chorus begins the chant, which isn't complete until a convincing yelp at 2:22. Finally, at 3:45, her voice comes in full force, complete with chain-gang percussion, as she sings "Is this the right mountain / for us to climb? / Is this the way to live / for you to be mine?" [1. Normally, I'd embed a youtube video of the song, but looks like her record company has scrubbed all those clean. You can still listen to some it for free here, and it's a record that's worth your hard-earned dollar.]

Amazingly, this transitions to the more folksy "Cicadas and Gulls," vaguely reminiscent of Van Morrison. On "Comfort Me," Feist takes another bluesy turn, yet somehow avoids joining the ineffectual glut of other contemporary pop artists who have tried to do the same. Using her voice and percussion, Feist circumvents the soft rock abyss of FM radio you hear at your dentist's office.

As mentioned in every review of the album out there, there are no danceable tracks a la "1 2 3 4," but there are sing-alongs, most notably the surprisingly un-creepy "Graveyard," where Feist compels us "whoa oh oh oh oh oh / bring them all back to life!" On "A Commotion," Feist builds tension with her falsetto voice and taut strings before the chorus of "A Commotion!!" which is less raucous but plays up because of the control and restraint she employs with her voice. There are no tracks here you would put on at a party, but that does not mean the record is without excitment. Rather Feist uses a slower, bluesier tempo to get the effect.

It's impossible to view Feist's achievments on Metals without looking to some of the other fantastic records released by female performers this year. Metals contains a lot of the same tensions present on Gillian Welch's The Harrow and the Harvest and St. Vincent's Strange Mercy, but resolves them in a different way. Whereas St. Vincent resolved her tensions with stinging guitar solos, and Welch hers with the help of the inimitable David Rawlings and a voice steeped in tradition but unlike any other today, Leslie Feist controls her songs like a puppet master. She moves her stringed instruments with her voice, pushing the ebb and flow of the songs as she pleases, with guitar not as electric (not literally) as David Rawlings, but just as deft. The final vision of the record, however, is more Bob Dylan than anything contemporary. Feist shows an utter disregard for "popular music" or whatever is expected of her, instead opting to create a record which is at times haunting, harrowing, merciful, bluesy, and happy, as it changes on her whim. She is a master of her craft, a fact most visible on "The Bad in Each Other." Importantly, she succeeds in creating her vision, and Metals is nothing short of great.

Feist - The Bad In Each Other (Jools Holland) from DavidWeiszfeld on Vimeo.

Photo by Paul Schreiber

Volume 10: The Whole Love?

2012-01-30T16:00:00.002-05:00

I'm struggling to judge Wilco's new record, The Whole Love, just as I initially struggled with their last two records, Sky Blue Sky and Wilco (The Album). The basic struggle is figuring out if I like the new record less because it is simply not as good, or if the passage of time has changed my perception of Wilco's records. In the end, I think I have two problems with the record: First, the record lacks the dramatic tension that defines the best Wilco records. Second, when the record does attempt to have dramatic tension, the tension feels forced. Additionally, I'm unsure if the record's tension issues stem from it being inauthentic, or if it is just my perception of their (in)authenticity.

So when I decry "Art of Almost" as a poor man's "Misunderstood" or "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart," I wonder if the opening track really is worse, or if I've just grown cynical. The lyrical content is less vivid than "Misunderstood," yet not nearly as tantalizing as the more obtuse "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart." After the song effectively builds tension for the four and a half minutes, the crescendo of guitar really does nothing to resolve the song. Instead, it tends to be kind of boring. The old Wilco would have cut the song at 4:30, I think. "I Might" reminds me of "Wilco (The Song)" and "Kamera," but it isn't as good. The organ has this weird Doorsy feel to it that really distracts me instead of enhancing the song. The guitar is great but it's so spotty that it gets overrun by the organ.

"Born Alone" is the best song on the record, and Tweedy's cadence makes the song feel like the Wilco of old. Best of all is the guitar, chugging along in the verses and then coming alive in the choruses. Still, the track, which probably should have ended after 2:30, goes for another minute and a half of guitar soloing. I feel like the old Wilco would have cut the song at 2:30 and saved the guitar for the live show. Do all Wilco guitar solos kind of sound the same now? They didn't used to.

"Born Alone" is evidence that Wilco still know how to craft a great pop song, but their previous albums were also great because of the contrast between these pop gems and slower, darker songs. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot had some great, great pop songs (Kamera, Heavy Metal Drummer, etc), but they were balanced with the dramatic tension and woundedness of "Ashes of American Flags" and "Poor Places." "Sunloathe" is, in theory, a nice breather, and I've always appreciated the sequencing on Wilco albums, but hearing Tweedy tell us "I don't want to lose this fight / I don't want to end this fight" is utterly unconvincing. If there's even tension there, it feels so contrived that I can't listen to the song.

Luckily, The Whole Love rebounds with "Dawned on Me." "Dawned on Me" is an old man's rocker. Everything feels set in the past, and the chorus is about falling in love with your wife...again (presumably). As in "it dawned on me." Not that there's anything wrong with that. But it's not the strangled love present as recently as on A Ghost is Born. It's not a bad song. In fact, it's a pretty damn good song. But it's not the same Wilco I fell in love with.

And so I sit here with what is an OK record, but a below average one in the Wilco canon. A couple of the aforementioned songs are good to great, but I doubt I'll spend any time with the rest of them. Still, pangs of guilt strike me as I say that, and I wonder if the record is actually that bad, or if it's just me. The ultimate issue I have with The Whole Love is the lack of dramatic tension. And even when the poetry regains the dramatic tension on this record, it feels forced. But why does it feel forced? Is it because the tension is forced, and is inauthentic, or is it because I perceive the tension to be inauthentic and therefore hear it that way? And, depending on the way you answer that query, the larger question becomes: Am I capable of liking a new Wilco record, regardless of the quality of that record?

The Best Thing I Heard This Week-Middle Brother

2012-01-30T16:00:00.001-05:00

Rarely are side projects worth listening to, much less the best thing I hear in a given week. By their nature they are secondary to whatever the main project may be, meaning they're done with less stress, less effort, and more fun. Unfortunately, said fun often fails on translate to the actual record, but for Middle Brother, whatever combination they have going works. Middle Brother consists of Deer Tick’s John McCauley, Dawes’ Taylor Goldsmith, and Delta Spirit’s Matthew Vasquez.

Middle Brother are at their best when they embrace the ramshackle vulgarness present on the title track. Which makes sense--the middle brother as an attention-starved, crass, obnoxious, red-headed step-child. McCauley fits the part the most easily (having red hair probably helps), as he perfects the role he tried on the hilarious "Friday XIII." When he tells us on "Middle Brother" that "I know my days are numbered / but I'm bad at math / got a dick so hard / that a cat couldn't scratch...regrets, tourette's, I guess it's the same," it sounds natural and despite the vulgarity it's easy to laugh with him.

Somehow, the brazen nature of the record is not too off-putting, probably because most of the comments are tongue-in-cheek. Never is that more present on the raucous sing-along "Someday," written by Delta Spirit's Vasquez. Again, there's the possibly irredeemable self-centered character, this time impressed by his own ability to make a woman love him without loving her back ("How could I say that I love you when I don't / how could I say I'll stay cause I won't / I never said I had a head on my shoulders / I'll just say that I'll love you when were older").

Other times on the record, the character is vulgar but certainly redeemable. "Daydreaming" opens the record with the lines "early in the morning / too hungover to go back to sleep / every sound is amplified / every light so dizzying / listen for a while / to the neighbors having sex / wishing I could lay my aching / hand upon your breast") but ends up being a sweet sentiment (I'm just the kid who gets his drinks from you / who stands around and doesn't have a clue / can't I hold you close to me? / can't I say to you just what I mean?").

None of this would matter much if it weren't so apparent that the band had a great time making this record (listen to the end of "Middle Brother," where someone screams "that's a wrap...we did it motherfuckers!"). Sure, it's crass and vulgar all over, but no one on this record took themselves too seriously. It's a testament to all of their musicianship that a record like this that came together so loosely works so well.

Staples-The Harlem Shakes' Technicolor Dreamcoat

2012-01-30T15:59:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, you get lucky, truly and strangely lucky, and you listen to the right record at the right moment and it'll be with you forever. Granted, some records are so great that they're going to do that anyway, but not every record is Let It Bleed or Abbey Road or Blonde on Blonde, so you gotta appreciate that shit when it happens. I heard the Harlem Shakes' Technicolor Health at the best time possible. The record is hopelessly positive and forward-looking, so much so that it caused critics to wince, yet it was the best thing for me to hear at that moment. I listened to this record on repeat during a six hour drive from the Appalachians to Chapel Hill, and it became a staple of my music collection.

At its core, Technicolor Health is a fun, anthemic album that zooms from start to finish in under 40 minutes. And while it's not on the level of the Stones or the Beatles or Dylan, it's a damn fine indie rock/pop record with at least three defining songs, whereas most records struggle to find one. We'll start from the beginning. I'm a fan of strong opening tracks, and this record surely has one. "Nothing but Change Part II" reminds me of that brilliant guitar-based indie rock that Ted Leo perfected at times. The song also serves as an opening salvo on the theme: one of (obviously) change. The singer is funny and self-depricating ("I wanna sing you a song so plain / that you'll go un-half insane") but also relentlessly forward-looking ("Still I feel that there are changes coming soon / nothing but change"). The chorus is a glorious cymbal and hand-clap filled mess as the whole band chimes in to create a sort of shambolic beauty.

The second song on Technicolor Health, "Strictly Game," does not let the pace slow for a second. Singer Lexy Benaim encapsulates that strange indie-hipster movement towards artisinal farming in four lines: "Up from the basement to my best friend's farm / we'll work so hard we can do no harm / we'll till the lands and duck our debts / underneath soft sun chewing nicorette." And while that paints a clear picture, the best part is the chorus: "Make a little money / take a lot of shit / feel real bad / and get over it / oh, this will be a better year." Damn if that hasn't been true about pretty much every single year for the past ten. "Strictly Game" is the indie rock "Like a Rolling Stone," a reminder that despite a fall from grace, the next year will be a better one (and do watch the video below, it's inspired).

The most anthemic of the first three songs, though, is probably the third, "TFO." While Benaim's vocals feel restrained on the first two songs, he really lets his voice come through on "TFO," nearly screaming "Reel in / your feelings / we got time to waste some time / we got time to waste some time now." Again, the guitar here sounds like some of Ted Leo's best work, though it also drew comparisons to the Walkmen, the Shins, and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. I can't find a link to the studio version of the song, and the live versions lack sound quality, so you're going to have to buy the record.

Strangely, Technicolor Health was criticized for being just another derivative Brooklyn hipster band, as Pitchfork wrote:

Anyone put off by the group's privileged nostalgia and self-consciously upbeat lyrics might imagine the cover's rainbow canopy as a multi-hued harbinger of doom, announcing yet another smug Brooklyn band with a savvy appreciation of someone's big brother's hip record collection and a smart way of appropriating and assimilating it into a catchy enough but far from guileless confection.

Man. That is some harsh criticism, and almost funny, given that it's coming from Pitchfork. Let's straighten this out. We're faulting the band for liking certain music and being from Brooklyn? When did we draw the line on which Brooklyn bands are cool and which aren't? Yes, the music is derivative (and what music isn't, I wonder?), but the important question is not whom it is derived from[1. This issue came up in an interview with CokeMachineGlow, where guitarist Todd Goldstein was asked if he thought it was unfair that they were being criticized because their influences were newer, and not, I don't know, Kraftwerk or Can or Joy Division. His response: "it’s like, well, the Arcade Fire album changed my life, I was depressed and I heard and it and it changed me. I love that album. But what really made our record sound like it did was that we are all weened (sic) on classic rock radio. We just love awesome pop songs, harmonized guitars and weird little direction shifts, stuff like that. We just want to make something that feels like that. But I guess everyone wants to make something that feels like the old stuff, but they’re listening to new stuff and being like 'this sounds awesome' too."] (and how cool they are), but is the deriviation any good? Does it bring anything new to the table? Is it worth listening to? And the answer here is, unequivocally, yes. Importantly, two years later, this record sounds just as good, if not better, and it's a damn shame that the band broke up.

Now we'll miss tracks like "Winter Water," a triumphant recollection of the beginning of a relationship: "If we are leaving / we're leaving together...If we are sleeping / we're sleeping together." Or the humor of "Niagara Falls, "I don't even know what I'm in the game for / I don't even get your t-shirt's pun." "Natural Man" recalls earlier Of Montreal (especially in the unusual but affecting vocals), when they weren't too eclectic and strange to listen to.

Technicolor Health is a puzzling title--it's a reference to the novel The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, by Michael Chabon, and ostensibly means a surging yet false/temporary sense of health and happiness. So while most of the record is naively hopeful, there's that sense that even when things do get better, they will cycle around again and tough times will begin anew. But, the record also represents the chance to come out of a depression, a tough situation, bad times, and to be able to know, to KNOW that things will get better in the future. That this will be a better year. And it takes a hell of a band and a hell of a record to be able to sing those words so truly and so convincingly. It was enough then to help allay sadness during a dark year, and it's enough now to get me through a morning filled with the inherent self-doubt of the unemployment blues.

Volume 9: Kids These Days

2012-01-30T15:57:00.001-05:00

Photo by thecountryfan

So the Missus and I got into a conversation last night about the (perceived?) gap between music today that is culturally popular and critically acclaimed. So I decided to spend an hour today watching The Cool TV, a channel that comes in on our antenna and which plays only music videos. We’ve watched it a little bit before, mostly for laughs, but I thought it would be a decent reflection of what an average person listens to during their day. It ended up reminding me of sitting in the dentist’s office and listening to what they tune into every day, only it was more painful. Let’s roll the tape:

11:19 Kid Rock is the first thing I see, alternately “playing” an electric guitar while standing in the middle of a field of crops and on a beach. He looks a lot like Sawyer from Lost. I’m guessing this song is called “Born Free,” considering how often he’s saying it. His voice is pretty damn ragged, and there’s not a beautiful thing about that. This is boring. I am worried for the kids of today. Going to focus on my orange juice and bran muffin for a bit.

Photo by paulswansen

11:23 First commercial is for Bosley Hair “Restoration.” Is this what Wayne Rooney got? Cool TV’s demographic for weekdays is balding men? Hm. Or maybe bloggers, the second commercial is for an online backup service. The best is the third. Universal Technical Institute, or UTI for short. Might want to rethink that acronym, fellas.

11:26 We’re back, and it's 311's "Creatures (For a While)." Wait, 311 is still making music? I really like this band in 7th grade, which was....more than fifteen years ago. How old is this song? (googling) Turns out this is from 2003’s Evolving, though the band did release a record THIS YEAR. From the AllMusic review: “311 are the grizzled greybeards of alternative music.” And that was in 2003. Now...the old folks home of alternative music?

11:30 Coldplay! "Every Teardrop is a Waterfall." From their forthcoming record which has a weird name. I think Chris Martin is having a seizure in this video. Nope, that’s the stop-motion camera they’re using. Now I’m the one about to have a seizure. Must. Stop. Watching. At least this song is new? Technically, at least. People with pacemakers should not be allowed to watch this video. People with any semblance of musical taste should also probably avoid it. This is a cheap U2 ripoff and I don’t even like U2. But seriously, I can’t watch the video for more than 3 seconds without going dizzy. Please stop Cool TV, please stop.

Photo by Joshua Mellin

11:35 Lil Wayne’s How to Love from The Carter IV. I think there was a girl about to get an abortion, and now it’s Lil Wayne without a shirt sitting beside an acoustic guitar, which is magically playing in the background. His voice is furiously autotuned yet still somehow out of tune. The plot to this video is a mess. A girl grows up, is too hot and has no father and then becomes a stripper. This is as musically painful as the Coldplay video was visually. And then, the stripper is told she has HIV! Bombshell. Wildly out of place. I think Lil Wayne is offering words of wisdom, but I can’t understand a word he’s saying. And then the stripper gets married and is in GED classes? Or is this an alternative future? I’m so confused.

11:39 Cool tv quiz, who said: “I’ve never had problems with drugs, I’ve only had problems with the police.” 1999. Probably some washed-up alt rocker. Scott Weiland? Correct Answer: Mick Jagger. Damn.

11:40 Commercial break. Taking deep breaths. These commercials are not made for people with jobs, yet also not made for me.

11:43 Joan Jett "I love Rock ‘N Roll": Weird. I mean they’re really spanning the time spectrum here. Joan Jett is not attractive in any way. She looks like a skinny Roseanne Barr. And sounds like her too. Is this video set in the Cheers Bar? Amazingly, this video is more boring than all the previous ones. It’s like they hadn’t figured out that you need a little more than the band performing the song. I will now go read the internet while it plays.

11:47 Beth Orton’s "Central Reservation." Never heard of her. Plot: she’s dashing down the median of a dirty street. Now she’s taking her clothes off. She gave her dress to an old Latino man, and now they’re dancing together. Now she’s walking with the dress again and gives it to a midget. She’s a little...wider than your average pop star. As in, she looks like a normal person. The song is innocuous. Way too innocuous to be a single. This song is 12 years old, wow! How did they pick this one out? How many closet Beth Orton fans are out there? At least one that works for The Cool TV.

11:50 I’m now halfway through my pledged hour. My orange juice and bran muffin are gone, and Beth Orton is still on TV. I don’t know if I’m going to make it. And just in time, here’s another “UTI” commercial.

Photo by lexmccall

11:54 And we’re back. I can do this.

11:55 Secret Machines’ "Lightning Blue Eyes." I used to listen to these guys. They made a good record once, but this wasn't on it. Let’s see how it is. Video is in black and white. A bunch of people going to a club to see a show. Nope, it’s a pool hall. No discernible characters yet. Some semi-attractive women at a bar, and now we’re following one of them...and there is a show, behind the pool hall. Is this about how when you’re only a semi-successful band, you only get semi-attractive groupies? Also...if you’re having your band perform in front of a crowd on video, wouldn’t you want it to be full? There’s like 15 people in this club. Oh, and this song isnt’ great. Silly that you have a song called “Lightning Blue Eyes” but you cannot show anyone with Blue Eyes because your video is in B&W.

12:00 Michael Jackson’s “Hollywood Tonight” from Michael. A girl gets off of a bus, now she’s in a dance class. No sign of Michael. She wants to bea movie star? “She’s going Hollywood, she’s going Hollywood tonight” is the chorus. This is pretty fucking awful. Oh! There’s Michael, kind of. He’s on a videoscreen billbboard, looks like old footage. Girl heads to many auditions. Now, she’s stripping. Man, these videos love strippers as a plot point. I’m using the word “plot” loosely, mind you. She just saw the Michael Jackson “star” on the Hollywood walk of fame or whatever, and she touched it longingly. Strange. Please make this stop.

12:04 Jason Derulo’s “It Girl.” Another one in B&W. He just told a girl that she meant more to him than a Grammy Award. God help us if this guy ever gets one. No discernible plot here, just him in some fancy clothes. Oooh! There’s a scene in color! With Mimosas! Speaking of which...Two minutes later the song is done and I think I heard the chorus 27 times.

12:07 Mercifully, we’re back to commercials.

12:09 You know it’s bad when the background music for a Peachtree commercial has a better melody than most of your songs.

12:10 Nicole Scherzinger’s “Posion.” This isn’t all that bad, though her lip syncing is noticeably off in the video. She’s some sort of superhero. She’s in a white bodysuit that is not unattractive. Still, the song isn’t good enough from keeping me watching attentively. I think this is loosely based on Batman, she has a weird Catwoman-type suit in addition to the white one.

12:14 We’re nearing the end. It’s Decemberists' "Calamity Song" based on a scene from David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest. Cool book scene. Video? We’ll see. Strange video idea. Kind of misses how high on drugs all of the spectators were, IIRC. Really cool idea for a game though. But...there’s not much fun in actually watching tennis balls hit fake targets. The description by DFW was (of course) better than this video, though I like the director, Dan Harmon. I would have picked a different scene from the book. The Decemberists leadsinger does not make a good Hal Incandenza. Interesting idea, but the execution was off.

12:18 last video! It’s Kings of Leon’s “Sex on Fire.” Of course it is. Fitting. They made a good record by the way (Youth and Young Manhood) and had another good song once (“Knocked Up”). But this shit is awful. This Sex is on fire? Please. I’m done.

The Best Thing I Heard This Week-Girls

2012-01-30T15:56:00.003-05:00

The best thing I heard this week is a record that is old and new, something we've all heard before but that still feels fresh. Girls’ Father, Son, Holy Ghost is unabashedly derivative, but extremely well done. All over the record are 60s and 70s landmarks, from Pink Floyd to Big Star to Otis Redding. Somehow, Girls manages to make the whole thing sound comfortably familiar yet different enough to be worth repeated listens.

I want to work with singer Christopher Owens on his song titles. Two of my favorite tracks on this record are called “Honey Bunny” and “Vomit,” and the issue is that when you’re trying to get a friend to listen to some songs you like, those titles make it about twice as hard ("Hey, check out this song." "What's it called?" "Um...Vomit.") Make no mistake though, “Honey Bunny” is awesome. It’s 70s guitar rock, and owes much to acts like Big Star. That’s the old. The new is the clever self-consciousness and humorous self-deprication in the song: “I’ve been messing / with so many girls / who could give a damn / about who I am / they don’t like my bony body / they don’t like my curly hair / or the stuff that I say / or the stuff that I’m on."

I may never get anyone to listen to it, but “Vomit” is a great song as well. It starts off sounding a bit like Built to Spill circa Perfect From Now On. It ends up, after a few minutes, transitioning into a Pink Floyd-esque druggy rocker, replete with the bellowing accompanying female vocalist and some lovely organ work. Funniest internet comment I read this week, under the Girls “Vomit” video: “not the first time i’ve searched for girls vomit on youtube [sic].”

There are also tracks on this record that don’t have awful song titles. “My Ma” is a touching ballad that evokes the Moondoggies and Wilco and maybe Band of Horses back when they were good, a few bands who owe much to 70s titans (listen to the organ and the guitar). “Magic” could have been a Buddy Holly song with its strolling pace and lyrical emphases (“Just a look was all it took / suddenly I’m on the hook / it’s ma-ha-ha-gic”).

Girls' songs have an endearing and innocent honesty about them. “Alex” is a forlorn love song, it reminds me a lot of the Shins, except Owens is less oblique, thinly veiling his jealousy until it comes loose in the fourth verse (“Alex has blue eyes / well who cares? / No I don’t...Alex has black hair / well who cares? / well I do...and Alex has a boyfriend / oh well / I’m in hell”):

I realize that it’s not enough to say that a new record sounds like something that was good (and I could keep going here: “Love Like a River” could easily be an Otis Redding song), that record must also bring something to the table. Luckily, Father, Son, Holy Ghost does that, and does it well. Christopher Owens has a great voice--a more velvety and less nasal Jeff Tweedy. His songwriting is earnest and funny in a tragic sort of way. The record has a smart tempo, mixing shorter poppy tunes with longer, slow-burning rockers. So while we've heard it all before, it's still worth another listen.

The Best Thing I Heard This Week-St. Vincent

2012-01-30T15:56:00.001-05:00

If this isn’t the best record I hear this year, well then damn, somebody is going to be really outdoing themselves in the next few months. Because Annie Clark (St. Vincent) just plain laid it all out here. Strange Mercy is a scarred, yet respendently cathartic record, and an absolute joy to listen to. I thought it unlikely that she’d be able to top her fantastic 2009 record Actor, because that album is near-perfect, but Strange Mercy does just that, throwing out infectious hooks that you will be humming for the near future.

The first track that really grabs you is “Cruel.” The guitar melody is so pure and catchy that the first time I heard it, I was convinced it had to be a cover. It’s a shame that “Cruel” and “Cheerleader” weren’t written until 2011, as they certainly could have been on the soundtrack to any number of movies written about the difficulties of high school.[1. Though, Clark stated that she wasn’t channeling high school when asked about the inspiration.] “Cruel” is right up there with “Macchu Picchu” for having the best guitar hook of the year, in my book. Through all of the sweetness of that hook though, Clark conveys sense of past trauma that keeps popping up through the rest of the record.

In an interview with All Songs Considered, Clark stated that while her previous record, Actor, was meticulously calculated and written on her home computer, Strange Mercy was created through an entirely different process. This time, she recorded skeletal bits of songs with just guitar and voice before heading to a studio and laying it down for the album, with computers not being involved until the end. The result is a more emotionally raw record, which fits with this theme of scarred catharsis. The difference is most present in the stunted, stuttering choruses. Listen to how she elegantly stumbles over the “I, I, I, I, I don’t want to be a cheerleader no more”:

That stutter punctuates the first half of Strange Mercy (listen her “struggle just to get along, get along, get along” on “Surgeon”), until the guitar freakout at the end of “Northern Lights” transforms the rest of the record. The songs that follow are more measured than the first five. “Dilettante” marches along with a chugging guitar, while Clark deftly outlines a character on “Year of the Tiger,” confident yet full of remorse.[1. “I always had a knack with the danger...Italian shoes / like these rubes know the difference / suitcase of cash / in the back of my stickshift / I had to be the best of the bourgeoisie...oh America / can I owe you one?”] The way she plays with words yet keeps the song from becoming playful on “Hysterical Strength”[1. “Must have been a case / of hysterical strength / to stand up / while the room moved off its axis."] and her conviction on “Strange Mercy” as she threatens “if I ever meet the dirty policeman / who roughed you up / then I don’t know what,” shows a songwriter at the top of her game.

Annie Clark exhibits a rare talent to tell an affecting story and use her guitar to combine it with a transfixing melody. This talent is in full-force on Strange Mercy, as Clark drags her guitar across old wounds, leaving us with the messy but utterly contagious results. In the aforementioned All Songs Considered interview, they asked how she managed to get the guitar sound she has on the record. While she went into technical details later in the interview, the first thing she said was that you have to throw your whole body into it. Which is a good metaphor for this record, honestly. It’s all here, with full-body force, and the best thing I heard this week.

Photo by Guus Krol

Staples-MGMT

2012-01-30T15:55:00.001-05:00

So, I was trying to figure out a way to write about music that I love but that isn't current, and I think I'm going to do it on Fridays and call it "Staples." As in, this is a staple of my music collection. Something that I go back to again and again, for whatever reason. First up: MGMT's Oracular Spectacular.

It's fitting that this is on a Friday. When I first moved to D.C. a little more than two years ago (I've since relocated back to NC), things were...interesting, we'll say. I was poorer then than I am now, even though I am currently without trabajo. I was working a day job that didn't pay and two other jobs at night and on the weekend to try and make ends meet, which they didn't, because D.C. is insanely expensive in every way.[1. I'll stop there with the D.C. rant for now, but just know that I could go on for hours. Ok, well, one more thing. At the time I was paying $800 a month to live in a glorified closet that didn't have a door and was sleeping on an air mattress.] But on Fridays, I allowed myself a little latitude, treating myself to a latte from Chinatown Coffee.[1. I would kill for one of those now. It is the best latte I think I've ever had. And one of the few places worth visiting in Chinatown.] I would set out for my 30-40 minute walk to work with coffee in hand, strolling in the perfect fall weather, with MGMT on my Ipod, and descend into bliss.[1. I'm only a little sad that Fridays don't really have the same meaning, now that I'm unemployed and all.]

Sure, part of the bliss was the caffeine high from the latte and the realization that I was only a few hours away from $1 beers at the Bottom Line, but part of it was the brilliance of Oracular Spectacular. The highs on the record are immense. I'm guessing you, reader, haven't thought about MGMT in a while, and that's normal. Oracular Spectacular was released in 2008, and was played to death. Every time I went out, I heard "Kids" or "Electric Feel" or "Time to Pretend." I think I heard "Kids" played at the Busy Bee 14 times and I only went there 8. Then, in 2010, MGMT released Congratulations, a bloated whale of an album with one good song (let me introduce you to "Someone's Missing"). In effect, everyone was sick of the songs they liked and when the new record that was supposed to give everyone new songs to obsess over and play incessantly at bars while young men with bad haircuts and whose dreams were to sell clever t-shirts for a living made ill-advised and ill-fated plays for nihilistic young women with worse haircuts, it didn't.

But shit man, three songs on one record that are that catchy and fun in a way that everyone can enjoy, that must be good right? (Yes, you should be nodding your head now) Sure, they were overplayed at the time, but overplayed for a reason. So you have three veritable "hits" but what else? Well, a bunch of other great songs that you're weren't going to hear at your local bar but you should have listened to anyway. There's the sheer intelligence and humor of "Weekend Wars," a song that's ostensibly about how hard it is to manage to do nothing on the weekend ("it's difficult to win unless you're bored"). There's the glorious climax at the end of "Pieces of What." There's the fist-pounding chorus of "The Handshake.". And there's the manic closure of "Future Reflections." None of these songs retain the pace of the aforementioned "hits," but they provide the record with depth and contrast, making Oracular Spectacular something worth listening to the whole way through, nearly four years since its original release.

Staples-The Boy Least Likely To

2012-01-30T15:54:00.002-05:00

Looking back on the summer of 2005, there were a number of records that I listened to over and over again,[1. Including The White Stripes Get Behind me Satan, Sleater-Kinney’s The Woods, and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s self-titled debut.] but the one that feels the most important to me at the moment is The Boy Least Likely To’s The Best Party Ever. If you wanted a handbook for all of the overly dramatic emotions you’re likely to go through in your late teens and mid-twenties, you cannot do better than this record.

Let’s get this out of the way first. The album is twee as fuck. Twee-er (twee-est? twee-most? twee-a-saurus rex?) than anything else I regularly listen to. If you manage to pay very little attention, it sounds like a children’s cd. Some of the songs are seemingly written from the point of view of plants and bears. I mean, look at the album cover pictured above. That is EXACTLY what the record sounds like. As such, this record is not for everyone. BUT, if you’re willing to look past that, then what’s left is a really great album. The opening track, "Be Gentle With Me," has a banjo-plucked melody for the ages:

That banjo-plucked melody and innocent sentiment became my anthem for the summer of 2005. So much so that while I was driving with a co-worker midway through the summer, she having only heard the song a few times, she asked: "this is you right? Travis, this is you. Just be gentle with you!" Having not realized it before, I exclaimed "yes! that is me!" Which was cool until I remembered a few of the lyrics: "I'm happy because I'm stupid" or "because I'm mental / be gentle with me." Right, anyhow, the real point is that I played this song all the time for everyone, and despite it's twee nature, people liked it (see, kids, music can make you friends! Sighs).

Despite the album's spritely sound, there are some dark moments on The Best Party Ever. The second half of the record is certainly a little more melancholy and reflective than the first. In an interview with Pitchfork, singer Jof Owen discussed the dichotomy:

Well, writing the album kind of fell into two halves. Most of it was written when I was happy in a relationship, and the rest of it was written after that relationship had fallen apart. I guess it's kind of obvious which songs are which.

The toughest moment on the record plays out on "The Battle of the Boy Least Likely To," as the singer tries to move on after being left. Jof Owen effortlessly describes the eternal struggle of deciding whether to move on: "and I can't get used to being alone / and I won't get used to being alone." The indecision becomes desperate later in the song: "under a full moon / hopelessly trying to / retrace our footsteps in the snow / I don't know when to hang on / and when to let go." There's no happy ending here, just as there is rarely a happy ending within the specific and isolated act of moving on. It's brilliant, though. At that time, I didn't need a happy ending to identify with the song, I needed someone to share my sorrows with and know that someone had been there before, struggled with moving on, and yet everything ended up fine.

The next stop on the emotional roller-coaster / self-help guide that is The Best Party Ever is "Hugging My Grudge." What do people do in their early twenties besides wallow in self-pity?[1. Drink and wallow in self-pity. Listen to music and wallow in self-pity. I think pretty much everything can be done while wallowing in self-pity, even starting new relationships.] Which can certainly be done with this record. I don't think that's ever been captured better lyrically than here: "I don't think / I'll ever be / happy unless I'm unhappy / and hugging my grudge." On "I'm Glad I Hitched My Apple Wagon to Your Star," Owen discusses the relief in learning to appreciate a failed love for what it was, and not what it wasn't:[1. "but I couldn't help but notice how / the little things that used to make us happy made us sad / but still I'm glad I hitched my apple wagon to your star / I never would've got here if I'd followed my heart...I'm happy if you're happy but it breaks my heart / I didn't even notice it til it fell apart / but still I'm glad I hitched my apple wagon to your star."]

I spent most of the summer of 2005 driving around in a 20 year-old van over-loaded with concrete and lumber, but the one thing that the van did have was a working tape deck. Everything I listened to that summer was recorded from cd over to tape, including this record. Despite the shitty sound quality that is the inherent outcome of that process, the musicianship on "Paper Cuts" was still readily apparent. It recalls a little bit of the Beach Boys, and provides yet another lesson (this time-"they're just paper cuts / I shouldn't beat myself up / over little things the way I do"), and a valuable one if you spent your summer making myriad mistakes as I did.

It's quite an accomplishment that The Boy Least Likely to made a record that is so wounded and personal in its nature yet so easily identifiable in its emotions. And I wish I could say that I took all of those lessons to heart the moment I heard the record (wait...no I don't), but who doesn't love to hug their grudge every now and then?

Volume 7: Cheerleader

2012-01-30T15:54:00.001-05:00

I don't wanna be a cheerleader no more.

The Best Thing I Heard This Week-Motopony

2012-01-30T15:53:00.001-05:00

I must admit that I almost didn't listen to this record because the band calls itself "Motopony." I was harboring under the illusion that I would not like any band that started with the prefix "moto." Well, we all make mistakes, I guess. Motopony's self-titled debut is pretty fantastic. It's polished but not cheap, and deftly manages a mid-tempo pace without falling into a malaise.

The real premium track here, certainly one of the best of the year, is "King of Diamonds." Allmusic stated that it sounds like "latter-day Radiohead, with an honest-to-God melody instead of Thom Yorke's ambient wailing." Which, besides making me laugh, also rings true. I've been humming this song for damn near three months and I'm still not sick of it. I would hasten to add that the lyrics are a cut above any recent Radiohead release as well. The lyrical structure of the song cleverly weaves cards and love, which sounds both unoriginal and trite, but it is executed perfectly.[1. I've been looking for the King of Diamonds / but I guess the queen will do...I've been looking for the King of Diamonds / You know I've got the other three / Spades and Clubs they just ain't shining / and my heart knows nothing's free...I've been looking for the King of Diamonds / but the Queen will work just fine / I've been looking for the King of Diamonds / until the dealer made you mine.] Have a listen:

Motopony also features a strong opening track, for which I am always a sucker. How can you not listen to a record that begins: "It's finally happening to me / the thing I just had to believe / It will be seven years in June / I know my time is coming soon/ I told her everything I know." The band manages to tie the melody of the opener, "June," into the reflective opus that is "God Damn Girl," which begins the slower, more self-conscious and folk-driven second half of the album.

A lot of this record reminds me of OK-Computer era Radiohead, just as the band was starting to blend electronic sounds into its music, but hadn't let them take over. There are elements of that all over Motopony, but it's done with a light touch, adding texture instead of obscuring melody. Lead singer/songwriter Daniel Blue stated that "a lot of people run from machines into nature, and a lot of people run from nature into machines. Somewhere in there, there has to be a balance." The balance on the record makes a lot of sense once you take that quote into account, it certainly seems to have been a conscious decision. Motopony are able to temper the emotional punch of songs like "God Damn Girl" and "Wake Up" with the alt-country rock of "Seer" and the Deer Tick-esque hillbilly rock of "I Am My Body." All of which make for a calculated yet flowing record that's easy to go back to, and the best thing I heard this week.