Thursday, December 24, 2009
Follow Us... Elsewhere
Posting on Tongue Tied Lightning has obviously and unfortunately halted. Find more musical musings, including year end lists, at the new and improved, The Title Is Everything.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Review: The Fiery Furnaces- I'm Going Away
What do you expect when you first pop in a new Fiery Furnaces record? Throughout a discography that spans folksy blues to electro pop to progressive rock to geriatric themed concept albums, the only real expectation is to be surprised. In that sense 'I'm Going Away' doesn't break the norm. It is certainly shocking, but only in the sense of how un-shocking the music here is. Honestly, anyone could listen to and enjoy the 30's tinged indie rock that makes up this record, which could hardly be said of even 'Gallowsbird Bark', the duo's now dethroned "most accessible" release, and would never even be considered as description of 'Blueberry Boat' or 'Remember'. The question then really becomes, if the Fiery Furnaces are not brandishing their characteristically uncompromising creative mash-ups of noise and melody, do they have the chops to hold a listeners attention?
There has never been any doubt that Matthew Friedberger can write a great pop song, but we are in a world that is rife with such tunes. It has always been the aesthetic, the packaging, that can make just another track really stick. The tunes here are packaged in newspaper clippings saved up from the Great Depression, a nostalgic take which while offering a fresh sound, adds to the tame nature of the album. The word tame however, when applied to the FF's may not mean what it otherwise would. Opener and title track "I'm Going Away" rides a jangly groove heavily through an old folk tune, but never quite strays into the experimentalism of the similiar "Single Again". Rocker "Charmaine Champagne" moves adeptly through a number of changes, but never reaches the frenzy of "Don't Dance Her Down". There are still enough guitar squelches ("Drive To Dallas") and melodic shake-ups to keep this distinctly Furnaces, just not to the extent that there have been in the past. One advantage of this is the extra honesty it seems to lend to the ballads; "The End Is Near" is more poignant than anything they've ever done, even if one winds up wishing a prettier voice than Eleanor Friedberger's was singing it. Noticeably absent here is the heavy handed synth. I can not even imagine these songs being performed live without guitar. That said however, the playing is profesional and the production is clean.
On previous albums the music could be too challenging, sometimes leaving one to wish for a more accessible listen. Here, if anything, the opposite applies. These songs are so easier to listen to that one begins to yearn for more of that flair to make them, well, more fiery (particularly on "Cut The Cake"). While a more perfect blend was probably hit on 'Gallowsbird Bark' or 'Widow City', the songs here are some of the best the band has ever done. It is important to note however that this is in no way a move to the mainstream, as most of the record would sound more at home through a victrola then a radio. Perhaps the Friedbergers realized that the only way they had left to shock us was to make an unshocking record. Lets just hope they find some more up their sleeve by the next LP.
Rating: 8/10
Best Tracks: "Even In The Rain", "Keep Me In The Dark", "Lost At Sea"
There has never been any doubt that Matthew Friedberger can write a great pop song, but we are in a world that is rife with such tunes. It has always been the aesthetic, the packaging, that can make just another track really stick. The tunes here are packaged in newspaper clippings saved up from the Great Depression, a nostalgic take which while offering a fresh sound, adds to the tame nature of the album. The word tame however, when applied to the FF's may not mean what it otherwise would. Opener and title track "I'm Going Away" rides a jangly groove heavily through an old folk tune, but never quite strays into the experimentalism of the similiar "Single Again". Rocker "Charmaine Champagne" moves adeptly through a number of changes, but never reaches the frenzy of "Don't Dance Her Down". There are still enough guitar squelches ("Drive To Dallas") and melodic shake-ups to keep this distinctly Furnaces, just not to the extent that there have been in the past. One advantage of this is the extra honesty it seems to lend to the ballads; "The End Is Near" is more poignant than anything they've ever done, even if one winds up wishing a prettier voice than Eleanor Friedberger's was singing it. Noticeably absent here is the heavy handed synth. I can not even imagine these songs being performed live without guitar. That said however, the playing is profesional and the production is clean.
On previous albums the music could be too challenging, sometimes leaving one to wish for a more accessible listen. Here, if anything, the opposite applies. These songs are so easier to listen to that one begins to yearn for more of that flair to make them, well, more fiery (particularly on "Cut The Cake"). While a more perfect blend was probably hit on 'Gallowsbird Bark' or 'Widow City', the songs here are some of the best the band has ever done. It is important to note however that this is in no way a move to the mainstream, as most of the record would sound more at home through a victrola then a radio. Perhaps the Friedbergers realized that the only way they had left to shock us was to make an unshocking record. Lets just hope they find some more up their sleeve by the next LP.
Rating: 8/10
Best Tracks: "Even In The Rain", "Keep Me In The Dark", "Lost At Sea"
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Live Review: Lollapalooza, 8/7-9/09, Chicago IL
I'm going to lump all three days of the festival into one post, and do my best to keep it concise. I'm also going to go ahead and try to keep it about the music here, as opposed to getting distracted with all the amazing insanities that seem to come package-deal with festivals of this scale. Here we goo...
Friday
Bon Iver: I was curious how this would come across live. Vernon was accompanied by a four piece band, but the music was largely spare as was to be expected. While the music was excellent, but by its very nature not the ticket to excite a festival crowd. "Skinny Love" found fists pumping, but the cool and constant drizzle didn't help more intimate and less gripping songs like "Re: Stacks" or the Dark Was The Night track "Brackett, WI". Non LP track "Blood Bank" also made an appearrance, but, alas, there were no "Woods" to be found in Chicago that night. "For Emma" without the horns didn't quite soar, but "Creature Fear" ended things at a dynamic high point by eventually devolving into an avant-noise jam.
Fleet Foxes: The rain kept on falling, but the second set of folksters of the night played yet another note perfect set. The mix here was amazing, and the harmonies crystal, as expected. Despite being a folk band, Pecknold and crew construct mini-epics which at their apex soar with just as much fist pumping triumph as any power ballad. If you've ever heard "Ragged Wood" amongst thousands of soggy fans, heads back roaring along the lyrics "Tell me anything you want, any old lie will do..", than you know what exactly I'm talking about.
Andrew Bird: As good as so many acts I saw this weekend were, no one can touch the musicianship of Andrew Bird. As a classicly trained violinist I have no doubts he could play in any ensemble, as a singer his small frame evokes a voice that effortlessly rings out to fill the voluminous empty spaces above, and as a whistler, as silly as it sounds, there is not a bird on earth who is not jealous. As a performer he turned over loop after loop of this gold faster than my mind could keep up with what exactly he was doing, and consistently constructed soundscapes populated richly by violin stabs, falling vocal cadences, and precisely harmonized tweets. Then, on a note, it all scaled back to that initial loop and those equally dense lyrics. I was blown away, and a set list including opener "Fiery Crash" and "Scythian Empires" didn't hurt. Other highlights included "Effigy", "Anonanimal", and sweeping closer "Tables And Chairs".
Kings Of Leon: If nothing else, this set was a reminder of how many truly great songs Kings Of Leon have written, and man are there a lot of them across only four albums. Their rise to festival headliner status was propelled by their most recent "Only By The Night", which in many circles has earned the group sell out status. Frontman Caleb Followill handled such concerns modestly on a couple of occasions. "Thanks for making us feel like a much bigger band than we really are" he told the crowd after mentioning "millions" of other bands who probably deserved it as much as them. "A lot of people have lost faith in Kings Of Leon", he later admitted, "but, f*ck it, were having the time of our lives- right?" That they must have been, as the crowd was the largest I personally saw all weekend, extending beyond the opposite Playstation stage. Only the bassist looked like he had spent more than an hour picking his outfit for the set, but regardless the 12 or more screens in addition to the jumbotrons solidified the groups new arena rock position. Concerning the music, everything was played exactly as off the record, no jamming or added flair to be found. A few tracks were even slowed down quite a few beats per minute. This said, the music soared and so did the crowds voices singing along, particularly on "Sex On Fire". My personal favorites of the night included "Charmer", "On Call" and "The Bucket". Caleb Followill sports one of the most affecting visceral growls in rock history, and truly does deserve to be a star. Noticeably absent from the set was old favorite "California Waiting", and "Soft". Come on, you know you wanted to hear Caleb sing "I'm passed out in your garden, I'm in I can't get off" in front of the biggest crowd of his life..
In summary, Friday was mainly a chill day of beautifully performed folk music. We also saw fragments of The Decemberists (who opted to play 'Hazards of Love' straight through..) and Ben Folds.
Saturday
Los Campesinos!: I was not expecting this large of a crowd for this band, this early in the day, much less everyone being this into. The band actually didn't sound great, but oh the energy! How could you not get up for it? The 7 piece absolutely raced through these songs, with noise and yelping and stage diving antics tumbling in tow. "You! Me! Dancing!" an undeniably goofy song to say the least, to see this group play it live, became utterly anthemic. For some reason I wasn't surprised by the end when half the band was crowd surfing and the other half was still joyously banging away.
Band of Horses (Kidzapalooza): An overheard conversation led me to catch Band Of Horses playing a secret 15 minute set at the Kidzapalooza stage. Secret must have gotten out, as the crowd there swamped the tiny area. Of note was the new song played, "Nature". A very catchy tune, but I kind of hope that those were kid-version lyrics. Either way, this got me psyched to see them Sunday night.
Arctic Monkeys: A huge crowd turned out as Arctic Monkeys were definitely one of the more mainstream draws. It was obvious that these guys were used to headlining festivals in Europe too; they were all swagger. A very professional set, with a great mix. Somehow I would have liked to feel as if they were trying a little harder though..
Lykke Li: My favorite set of the weekend was hands down Lykke Li at the small Citi stage. As a fan of her subtly atmospheric pop driven record, I was in no way prepared for what was to come. She came on stage alone, draped in a black garment that flowed around her body in the wind, and started a beat on a lone woodblock. As the words to "Dance Dance Dance" started becoming evident, the band (all in black sports coats and wife beaters) filtered on and started filling out the verse. At the change a break in the sound, and then- explosion. Thundering floor toms, blaring keyboard, and a woman possessed writhing across the stage as she transformed a naive pop song into a ferocious sonic assault. The opener was followed by "Everybody But Me" and "I'm Good I'm Gone", possibly her three strongest tunes right off the bat, and the crowd never missed a beat. I was particularly thrilled when she called out Mike Snow to duet on her nervy cover of Kings Of Leon's "Knocked Up". The real thrill of this show however, was how she took familiar songs like "Little Bit" or "Hanging High" and portrayed them as something completely new, if only through sheer volume of the kick drum, while staying true to her minimalist tendencies. "Complaint Department" came in with that thick sample and had everyone moving as I couldn't have imagined; into "Let It Fall", which broke for a minute while the singer yelled in a thick swedish accent "I can't hee-ar yooo". Priceless. Faux-closer "Breaking It Up" brought the show to that next level of passion and energy which you are never convinced actually exists until it happens. "Tonight" ended the set, featuring the whole crowd desperately pleading back to the singer "Don't you let me go, let me go tonight!". It served as an amazing ending, not only due to the songs sweeping epic nature, but because it brought back into focus the Lykke Li of the record. On tape, she writes naive, little girl-esque tales about her shyness and insecurities. And yet on stage she is a force of nature, and similiarly does the music transform. It is a wonderful dynamic that only comes out in the show. I guess she really means it when she sings "Having trouble telling you how I feel, but I can dance, dance, dance."
Animal Collective: This was a big draw for me. I was curious to say the least, and though they've never been a favorite of mine, avant garde music has always been something I've given an ear too. I've never seen a band so eager to displease 95% of everyone at a show however. I only stayed for ten minutes of the structure-less drone; it was obvious that even if we did get to hear "My Girls" it wouldn't be any fun. At least I got to hear my buddy use the most epic pick up line ever dropped: "Do you know that your dancing in 7/8?"
Bassnectar: San Francisco DJ in the dance tent. Its a cop out, but if you really have to ask about this one, you'll probably never know.
In summary, Saturday was hotter, sweatier, dancier, higher energy in general. Could Sunday really top it?
Sunday
Kaiser Chiefs: British pop rock bands like Kaiser Chiefs have never truly struck me as legitamate musicians, and so while keeping in touch with what is going on across the pond I tend not to give it the time of acts from other scenes. Knowing a couple of there songs however, I checked them out expecting about the same as I saw from the Arctic Monkeys. These Brits, however, definitely came on like they had something to prove. Lead singer Ricky Wilson was nuts, and the music was tenacious. Jumping in the crowd, climbing the stage supports, bucking across the stage completely out of control just to barely get back to the mic for the chorus, nothing was off limits. "Everyday I Love You Less And Less" and "Ruby" were both highlights, but "I Predict A Riot", in Wilson's own words, was "f*ckin mental."
Dan Deacon: A show which, while being a bit of a blur, I will always remember. For making such crazy music, and being such a goofy fellow himself (what with the purple T-shirts and dorky glasses and whatnot..) Deacon is a bit touchy when it comes to the mix apparently. After some banter with the sound engineer the show was underway. With three drummers, two mallets, three synths, two guitars, Deacon doing whatever it is he does, and some horns along the back, the sound was absolutely huge. Even though it was hardly needed, the famed crowd participation antics of Deacon all went down, including emotional forays involving hands on strangers sweaty heads, giant human dance tunnels, and swaying circles that eventually built to a pulsating mob inanely heaving garbage in the air. For the end of the set, 14 brass came forward with their toes on the edge of the stage, and the noise that erupted sent 10,000+ people into frenzy. Having danced up to the very front the chaos was unbelievable. After the set, I wandered over to a grassy hill, disoriented, and briefly collapsed. Amazing.
Vampire Weekend: As you would expect, they were very good. I'm not sure how Vampire Weekend could amp up their show to fill the festival atmosphere they found themselves in, but they played all the hits, and the danceable pop tunes left everyone pretty much satisfied. Not to mention, I got a chance to drop an epic pick up line of my own (I'd been saving this one up): "Is your bed made? Is your sweater on?"
Band Of Horses: I liked Band Of Horses before this show, now I love Band Of Horses. Their large reverb laden brand of americana rock proved to be just the ticket to capping off an amazing weekend. While usually getting thrown in the vocal camp with the likes of My Morning Jacket or Fleet Foxes, I was surprised by the immediacy of singer Mat Brooke's voice. The singer was obviously having a ball, always good for a few whoops or "Thank you so much!'s" from underneath his cowboy hat between songs. When the set was slated to end, "Funeral" predictably started playing, and man was it huge. What no one expected was for the band to go on for four more songs- and no one was complaining. When the band closed with personal favorite "The General Specific", the energy had reached heights that no country romp should be able to maintain. What puzzled me however, was this show in juxtaposition to a couple songs I caught from a weak Cold War Kids set earlier in the day. Both are bands about the same age, having made two records each, who play nostalgic rock, and yet one almost shattered the earth with their set while the other sputtered. It just goes to show the talent and scope that Band of Horses posess.
DeadMau5: Again, do you have to ask? Prob not as hypnotic as Bassnectar, but this was the final night of Lollapalooza people.
An amazing city, amazing music, great people, great times, great festival. My overall winners were Andrew Bird, Lykke Li, and Band of Horses, with great surprises from Dan Deacon and Los Campesinos!. Next year Bonnaroo? Hopefully I'll see you there. Shows are where music happens people, and music is always a good thing.
Friday
Bon Iver: I was curious how this would come across live. Vernon was accompanied by a four piece band, but the music was largely spare as was to be expected. While the music was excellent, but by its very nature not the ticket to excite a festival crowd. "Skinny Love" found fists pumping, but the cool and constant drizzle didn't help more intimate and less gripping songs like "Re: Stacks" or the Dark Was The Night track "Brackett, WI". Non LP track "Blood Bank" also made an appearrance, but, alas, there were no "Woods" to be found in Chicago that night. "For Emma" without the horns didn't quite soar, but "Creature Fear" ended things at a dynamic high point by eventually devolving into an avant-noise jam.
Fleet Foxes: The rain kept on falling, but the second set of folksters of the night played yet another note perfect set. The mix here was amazing, and the harmonies crystal, as expected. Despite being a folk band, Pecknold and crew construct mini-epics which at their apex soar with just as much fist pumping triumph as any power ballad. If you've ever heard "Ragged Wood" amongst thousands of soggy fans, heads back roaring along the lyrics "Tell me anything you want, any old lie will do..", than you know what exactly I'm talking about.
Andrew Bird: As good as so many acts I saw this weekend were, no one can touch the musicianship of Andrew Bird. As a classicly trained violinist I have no doubts he could play in any ensemble, as a singer his small frame evokes a voice that effortlessly rings out to fill the voluminous empty spaces above, and as a whistler, as silly as it sounds, there is not a bird on earth who is not jealous. As a performer he turned over loop after loop of this gold faster than my mind could keep up with what exactly he was doing, and consistently constructed soundscapes populated richly by violin stabs, falling vocal cadences, and precisely harmonized tweets. Then, on a note, it all scaled back to that initial loop and those equally dense lyrics. I was blown away, and a set list including opener "Fiery Crash" and "Scythian Empires" didn't hurt. Other highlights included "Effigy", "Anonanimal", and sweeping closer "Tables And Chairs".
Kings Of Leon: If nothing else, this set was a reminder of how many truly great songs Kings Of Leon have written, and man are there a lot of them across only four albums. Their rise to festival headliner status was propelled by their most recent "Only By The Night", which in many circles has earned the group sell out status. Frontman Caleb Followill handled such concerns modestly on a couple of occasions. "Thanks for making us feel like a much bigger band than we really are" he told the crowd after mentioning "millions" of other bands who probably deserved it as much as them. "A lot of people have lost faith in Kings Of Leon", he later admitted, "but, f*ck it, were having the time of our lives- right?" That they must have been, as the crowd was the largest I personally saw all weekend, extending beyond the opposite Playstation stage. Only the bassist looked like he had spent more than an hour picking his outfit for the set, but regardless the 12 or more screens in addition to the jumbotrons solidified the groups new arena rock position. Concerning the music, everything was played exactly as off the record, no jamming or added flair to be found. A few tracks were even slowed down quite a few beats per minute. This said, the music soared and so did the crowds voices singing along, particularly on "Sex On Fire". My personal favorites of the night included "Charmer", "On Call" and "The Bucket". Caleb Followill sports one of the most affecting visceral growls in rock history, and truly does deserve to be a star. Noticeably absent from the set was old favorite "California Waiting", and "Soft". Come on, you know you wanted to hear Caleb sing "I'm passed out in your garden, I'm in I can't get off" in front of the biggest crowd of his life..
In summary, Friday was mainly a chill day of beautifully performed folk music. We also saw fragments of The Decemberists (who opted to play 'Hazards of Love' straight through..) and Ben Folds.
Saturday
Los Campesinos!: I was not expecting this large of a crowd for this band, this early in the day, much less everyone being this into. The band actually didn't sound great, but oh the energy! How could you not get up for it? The 7 piece absolutely raced through these songs, with noise and yelping and stage diving antics tumbling in tow. "You! Me! Dancing!" an undeniably goofy song to say the least, to see this group play it live, became utterly anthemic. For some reason I wasn't surprised by the end when half the band was crowd surfing and the other half was still joyously banging away.
Band of Horses (Kidzapalooza): An overheard conversation led me to catch Band Of Horses playing a secret 15 minute set at the Kidzapalooza stage. Secret must have gotten out, as the crowd there swamped the tiny area. Of note was the new song played, "Nature". A very catchy tune, but I kind of hope that those were kid-version lyrics. Either way, this got me psyched to see them Sunday night.
Arctic Monkeys: A huge crowd turned out as Arctic Monkeys were definitely one of the more mainstream draws. It was obvious that these guys were used to headlining festivals in Europe too; they were all swagger. A very professional set, with a great mix. Somehow I would have liked to feel as if they were trying a little harder though..
Lykke Li: My favorite set of the weekend was hands down Lykke Li at the small Citi stage. As a fan of her subtly atmospheric pop driven record, I was in no way prepared for what was to come. She came on stage alone, draped in a black garment that flowed around her body in the wind, and started a beat on a lone woodblock. As the words to "Dance Dance Dance" started becoming evident, the band (all in black sports coats and wife beaters) filtered on and started filling out the verse. At the change a break in the sound, and then- explosion. Thundering floor toms, blaring keyboard, and a woman possessed writhing across the stage as she transformed a naive pop song into a ferocious sonic assault. The opener was followed by "Everybody But Me" and "I'm Good I'm Gone", possibly her three strongest tunes right off the bat, and the crowd never missed a beat. I was particularly thrilled when she called out Mike Snow to duet on her nervy cover of Kings Of Leon's "Knocked Up". The real thrill of this show however, was how she took familiar songs like "Little Bit" or "Hanging High" and portrayed them as something completely new, if only through sheer volume of the kick drum, while staying true to her minimalist tendencies. "Complaint Department" came in with that thick sample and had everyone moving as I couldn't have imagined; into "Let It Fall", which broke for a minute while the singer yelled in a thick swedish accent "I can't hee-ar yooo". Priceless. Faux-closer "Breaking It Up" brought the show to that next level of passion and energy which you are never convinced actually exists until it happens. "Tonight" ended the set, featuring the whole crowd desperately pleading back to the singer "Don't you let me go, let me go tonight!". It served as an amazing ending, not only due to the songs sweeping epic nature, but because it brought back into focus the Lykke Li of the record. On tape, she writes naive, little girl-esque tales about her shyness and insecurities. And yet on stage she is a force of nature, and similiarly does the music transform. It is a wonderful dynamic that only comes out in the show. I guess she really means it when she sings "Having trouble telling you how I feel, but I can dance, dance, dance."
Animal Collective: This was a big draw for me. I was curious to say the least, and though they've never been a favorite of mine, avant garde music has always been something I've given an ear too. I've never seen a band so eager to displease 95% of everyone at a show however. I only stayed for ten minutes of the structure-less drone; it was obvious that even if we did get to hear "My Girls" it wouldn't be any fun. At least I got to hear my buddy use the most epic pick up line ever dropped: "Do you know that your dancing in 7/8?"
Bassnectar: San Francisco DJ in the dance tent. Its a cop out, but if you really have to ask about this one, you'll probably never know.
In summary, Saturday was hotter, sweatier, dancier, higher energy in general. Could Sunday really top it?
Sunday
Kaiser Chiefs: British pop rock bands like Kaiser Chiefs have never truly struck me as legitamate musicians, and so while keeping in touch with what is going on across the pond I tend not to give it the time of acts from other scenes. Knowing a couple of there songs however, I checked them out expecting about the same as I saw from the Arctic Monkeys. These Brits, however, definitely came on like they had something to prove. Lead singer Ricky Wilson was nuts, and the music was tenacious. Jumping in the crowd, climbing the stage supports, bucking across the stage completely out of control just to barely get back to the mic for the chorus, nothing was off limits. "Everyday I Love You Less And Less" and "Ruby" were both highlights, but "I Predict A Riot", in Wilson's own words, was "f*ckin mental."
Dan Deacon: A show which, while being a bit of a blur, I will always remember. For making such crazy music, and being such a goofy fellow himself (what with the purple T-shirts and dorky glasses and whatnot..) Deacon is a bit touchy when it comes to the mix apparently. After some banter with the sound engineer the show was underway. With three drummers, two mallets, three synths, two guitars, Deacon doing whatever it is he does, and some horns along the back, the sound was absolutely huge. Even though it was hardly needed, the famed crowd participation antics of Deacon all went down, including emotional forays involving hands on strangers sweaty heads, giant human dance tunnels, and swaying circles that eventually built to a pulsating mob inanely heaving garbage in the air. For the end of the set, 14 brass came forward with their toes on the edge of the stage, and the noise that erupted sent 10,000+ people into frenzy. Having danced up to the very front the chaos was unbelievable. After the set, I wandered over to a grassy hill, disoriented, and briefly collapsed. Amazing.
Vampire Weekend: As you would expect, they were very good. I'm not sure how Vampire Weekend could amp up their show to fill the festival atmosphere they found themselves in, but they played all the hits, and the danceable pop tunes left everyone pretty much satisfied. Not to mention, I got a chance to drop an epic pick up line of my own (I'd been saving this one up): "Is your bed made? Is your sweater on?"
Band Of Horses: I liked Band Of Horses before this show, now I love Band Of Horses. Their large reverb laden brand of americana rock proved to be just the ticket to capping off an amazing weekend. While usually getting thrown in the vocal camp with the likes of My Morning Jacket or Fleet Foxes, I was surprised by the immediacy of singer Mat Brooke's voice. The singer was obviously having a ball, always good for a few whoops or "Thank you so much!'s" from underneath his cowboy hat between songs. When the set was slated to end, "Funeral" predictably started playing, and man was it huge. What no one expected was for the band to go on for four more songs- and no one was complaining. When the band closed with personal favorite "The General Specific", the energy had reached heights that no country romp should be able to maintain. What puzzled me however, was this show in juxtaposition to a couple songs I caught from a weak Cold War Kids set earlier in the day. Both are bands about the same age, having made two records each, who play nostalgic rock, and yet one almost shattered the earth with their set while the other sputtered. It just goes to show the talent and scope that Band of Horses posess.
DeadMau5: Again, do you have to ask? Prob not as hypnotic as Bassnectar, but this was the final night of Lollapalooza people.
An amazing city, amazing music, great people, great times, great festival. My overall winners were Andrew Bird, Lykke Li, and Band of Horses, with great surprises from Dan Deacon and Los Campesinos!. Next year Bonnaroo? Hopefully I'll see you there. Shows are where music happens people, and music is always a good thing.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Review: Charles Spearin- The Happiness Project
Charles Spearin of Broken Social Scene and Do Make Say Think has followed suit of his myriad band mates and released a solo record. This one however, stands alone. Rather than rehashing more of the huge indie sound of BSS or the intricate post rock of DMST, Spearin reaches back to his roots in KC Accidental (often overlooked, but some of the best stuff still to come out of Toronto) to produce a like minded record of subtle instrumental beauty. What truly is unique here is the concept behind the music. Spearin took it upon himself to interview many of his neighbors and acquaintances about happiness. He recorded the conversations, took the tapes home, and literally played along with the conversations. Note for word, he literally plays along with the voices on the tape. No exaggeration. It is an impressive feat to say the least, but you can't help but be suspicious of gimmickry at work here. Gimmick or not, can you really resist at least a listen?
At a concise one and a half minutes, "Mrs. Morris" serves as a straightforward introduction to the basics of whats going on here. Literally a note for word play along with what Mrs. Morris is saying. At first the effect is startling. "Does she really sound like that?" you ask yourself. Yes, yes she does. More importantly, the opener introduces one of the more interesting facets of the album. Mrs. Morris, an older African American woman, has her voice represented by a saxophone. It traces the inflections perfectly, and with each track you find that different voices are characterized by similarly appropriate instruments. Hearing each unique personality represented through unique instruments is a wonderful quirk that really helps carry the concept behind the record. On the following tracks, the rules are not adhered to so strictly. Rather, the voices introduce the melodies, which are then picked up instrumentally and filled out by full productions. Often the vocal sample containing the melody is looped to help make it work within the framework of the song, and most typically then dropped all together to let the instruments play off these themes. "Anna", done on trumpet, offers one of the highlights of the record on what becomes a laid back jazzy romp. "Vanessa", a formerly deaf woman provides another highlight with piano tinkling along to her musings on the nature of sound in general. Other curiosities include a woman done on harp, a baby done on singing saw (?), and a reprise from who has to be the same old man off of the Valley of the Giants record. To close the record they give Mrs. Morris the full production treatment, tying things off neatly.
The spoken word has always had a place in post rock. Whether being cryptic old radio broadcasts, recalls of memory, or merely studio chatter, using speaking to flavor the sentiment of this kind of music is not rare in the least. With that being the case, Spearin's record would be an easy listen, even to someone wholly unfamiliar with the project. Judged on the sole basis of just any post rock record however, it is short. At 31 minutes, there have been single songs in the genre that eclipse this whole work. Towards the sixth and seventh track, the melodies do not nearly pop as much, the instrumentation becomes more challenging, and the novelty of the "playing along" gag starts to wear off. These become criticisms mainly as a reflection of how short the album is. There is no cathartic release after these challenges, as the album never plays out enough to allow one. Not to mention that the listener would probably ideally imagine the immediacy of the albums first half to play all the way through.
In the end, the "gimmickry" of the project really does bring something to the table. One of the great pitfalls of post rock is when you start to feel that a group is phoning it in; putting out more-of-the-same type albums when the inspiration starts to fail (recent Sigur Ros anyone?). The inspiration is on full blast here, and it comes through in the music. Likewise, an impressive array of moods and sentiments manage to be effectively communicated, whereas many such records only can manage to sustain one. However, this being one of the best instrumental releases so far this year, I'm pretty sure the mood you'll end up settling on is happiness.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "Anna", "Vanessa", "Mrs. Morris (Reprise)"
At a concise one and a half minutes, "Mrs. Morris" serves as a straightforward introduction to the basics of whats going on here. Literally a note for word play along with what Mrs. Morris is saying. At first the effect is startling. "Does she really sound like that?" you ask yourself. Yes, yes she does. More importantly, the opener introduces one of the more interesting facets of the album. Mrs. Morris, an older African American woman, has her voice represented by a saxophone. It traces the inflections perfectly, and with each track you find that different voices are characterized by similarly appropriate instruments. Hearing each unique personality represented through unique instruments is a wonderful quirk that really helps carry the concept behind the record. On the following tracks, the rules are not adhered to so strictly. Rather, the voices introduce the melodies, which are then picked up instrumentally and filled out by full productions. Often the vocal sample containing the melody is looped to help make it work within the framework of the song, and most typically then dropped all together to let the instruments play off these themes. "Anna", done on trumpet, offers one of the highlights of the record on what becomes a laid back jazzy romp. "Vanessa", a formerly deaf woman provides another highlight with piano tinkling along to her musings on the nature of sound in general. Other curiosities include a woman done on harp, a baby done on singing saw (?), and a reprise from who has to be the same old man off of the Valley of the Giants record. To close the record they give Mrs. Morris the full production treatment, tying things off neatly.
The spoken word has always had a place in post rock. Whether being cryptic old radio broadcasts, recalls of memory, or merely studio chatter, using speaking to flavor the sentiment of this kind of music is not rare in the least. With that being the case, Spearin's record would be an easy listen, even to someone wholly unfamiliar with the project. Judged on the sole basis of just any post rock record however, it is short. At 31 minutes, there have been single songs in the genre that eclipse this whole work. Towards the sixth and seventh track, the melodies do not nearly pop as much, the instrumentation becomes more challenging, and the novelty of the "playing along" gag starts to wear off. These become criticisms mainly as a reflection of how short the album is. There is no cathartic release after these challenges, as the album never plays out enough to allow one. Not to mention that the listener would probably ideally imagine the immediacy of the albums first half to play all the way through.
In the end, the "gimmickry" of the project really does bring something to the table. One of the great pitfalls of post rock is when you start to feel that a group is phoning it in; putting out more-of-the-same type albums when the inspiration starts to fail (recent Sigur Ros anyone?). The inspiration is on full blast here, and it comes through in the music. Likewise, an impressive array of moods and sentiments manage to be effectively communicated, whereas many such records only can manage to sustain one. However, this being one of the best instrumental releases so far this year, I'm pretty sure the mood you'll end up settling on is happiness.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "Anna", "Vanessa", "Mrs. Morris (Reprise)"
Albums I Love: Painful
I feel fairly secure in saying that Yo La Tengo is the most unclassifiable band ever. When you have a career spanning 23 years and 13 LP's (pending the release of 'Popular Songs' in September of this year) this is almost a necessity. If for no other reason, the sheer scope of their body of work solidifies them as pioneers of indie rock, not to mention that they were making the first steps into the genre as early as 1986. Despite this however, most of their work has remained insulated to a small core of fans, even within the indie sphere. Really, only "I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One" and select tracks off of "I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass" have truly gotten some widespread (relatively speaking) listening. It is a failing of the genre, that we often pigeonhole one record from a band as the "quintessential listen" and hence relegate much of their equal and oftentimes better work to being superfan collectibles. If this is what has kept you from spinning 1993's 'Painful', shame on you.
I'm not actually too dissapointed here, but now you have no excuse. This is the quintessential indie album, the foundation which many bands you love most likely stand on. There are truly traces of nearly every trend to emerge in guitar based indie rock of the next 15 years on this record. Take the post rock beauty of opener "Big Day Coming". For seven minutes the track barely whispers its anticipatory lyrics, "There's a big day coming/And I can't hardly wait," as if scared that anything more and the delicate beauty would melt away. Only then to have the sonic pallette shattered with the distortion-drenched irrestible pop ride that is "From A Motel Six". "Superstar Watcher", into "Nowhere Near" find the band at their most atmospheric. Washes of smooth organ tones caress Georgia Hubley's sustained, gentle voice as she asks "Do you know how I feel?/How I feel about you?". "Sudden Organ" characterized by (you guessed it) stabs of reverbed organ blast, is the probable origin of all those Velvet Underground comparisons that only kind of made sense. On "I Was The Fool Beside You For Too Long" the band opens up for huge arena sized guitar chords, before toning down for a cover of The Only Ones tune, "The Whole Of The Law". Nowhere else does the band acheive the beauty of this track (which is considerable praise in a discography boasting 'And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out'). You hear the longing and almost feel distance as Ira and Georgia sing to each other, "I'd plumb the depths of every sea for you/I'd escape from my chains, and I'll reach out for you". In finale, the guitar cacophony that would come to characterize later Yo La Tengo freakouts is featured for 7 minutes straight on the visceral closer, "I Heard You Looking".
Ira Kaplan, Georgia Hubley, and James McNew. These three are the anti-rock stars. Mild mannered, slightly goofy looking people making music outside of any popular influence. To see these three, and then to hear them, is to be shocked. And yet that is their charm. To know the ferocity, the passion, the beauty, and the vision within three such ordinary folks, is to know these things in yourself. And to know that is anything but 'Painful'.
Best Tracks: "From A Motel Six", "Nowhere Near", "The Whole Of The Law"
I'm not actually too dissapointed here, but now you have no excuse. This is the quintessential indie album, the foundation which many bands you love most likely stand on. There are truly traces of nearly every trend to emerge in guitar based indie rock of the next 15 years on this record. Take the post rock beauty of opener "Big Day Coming". For seven minutes the track barely whispers its anticipatory lyrics, "There's a big day coming/And I can't hardly wait," as if scared that anything more and the delicate beauty would melt away. Only then to have the sonic pallette shattered with the distortion-drenched irrestible pop ride that is "From A Motel Six". "Superstar Watcher", into "Nowhere Near" find the band at their most atmospheric. Washes of smooth organ tones caress Georgia Hubley's sustained, gentle voice as she asks "Do you know how I feel?/How I feel about you?". "Sudden Organ" characterized by (you guessed it) stabs of reverbed organ blast, is the probable origin of all those Velvet Underground comparisons that only kind of made sense. On "I Was The Fool Beside You For Too Long" the band opens up for huge arena sized guitar chords, before toning down for a cover of The Only Ones tune, "The Whole Of The Law". Nowhere else does the band acheive the beauty of this track (which is considerable praise in a discography boasting 'And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out'). You hear the longing and almost feel distance as Ira and Georgia sing to each other, "I'd plumb the depths of every sea for you/I'd escape from my chains, and I'll reach out for you". In finale, the guitar cacophony that would come to characterize later Yo La Tengo freakouts is featured for 7 minutes straight on the visceral closer, "I Heard You Looking".
Ira Kaplan, Georgia Hubley, and James McNew. These three are the anti-rock stars. Mild mannered, slightly goofy looking people making music outside of any popular influence. To see these three, and then to hear them, is to be shocked. And yet that is their charm. To know the ferocity, the passion, the beauty, and the vision within three such ordinary folks, is to know these things in yourself. And to know that is anything but 'Painful'.
Best Tracks: "From A Motel Six", "Nowhere Near", "The Whole Of The Law"
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Catching Up '09 Round Three
Another slew of the new; at least relatively so. Lets see what the cat dragged in today.
The Dead Weather- 'Horehound'
The Dead Weather actually does sound remarkably like the sum of its parts; the harder rock of Queens Of The Stone Age, the sexiness of the Kills, and the blues of the White Stripes all surface in equal parts here. Over 'Icky Thump' and 'Consolers Of The Lonely', one couldn't help but feel that Jack White was slipping away from the roots that had originally made him so great. And while the same trends continue here, by taking the guitar out of his hands it is somehow so much easier to bear (not to mention solidifying suspicions that Dean Fertita can really play). Given the increasing rarity that a good hard rock record is these days, I probably tend to give The Dead Weather the benefit of the doubt in spots. When you get down to it though, 'Horehound' hits you hard right in the gut. With all the twee and folk proliferating hard drives these days, on occasion that is exactly what is needed. If nothing else, the album is a testament to the reality that sex and violence will always have a place in rock music.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "I Cut Like A Buffalo","Treat Me Like Your Mother", "New Pony"
Drug Rug- 'Paint The Fence Invisible'
A young couple playing music together: tougher than Mates of State, cuter than The White Stripes, lacking the folk of Bowerbirds, and with none of the mush of Hello, Blue Roses. You're right, that didn't really help at all. This music falls into the trap of having no truly unique characteristics apart from being straight-up indie rock. That said, it is pretty good straight-up indie rock. Fans of music running the gamut from Dr. Dog to the Unicorns to A.C. Newman's first record will all find a lot to like.
Rating: 6/10
Best Tracks: "Don't Be Frightened By The Devil", "Coffee In The Morning", "Sooner The Better"
Wheat- 'White Ink, Black Ink'
It is truly unfortunate for Wheat that Phoenix's 'Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix' beat their 'White Ink, Black Ink' to release. Both are electro-tinged, yet guitar based pop records that play on equal fields. If maybe a little slow to start, Wheat manages to take their listeners to more places along the musical journey than their contemporaries even try to. The melodies of the "singles" here may not be quite as catchy, but the record certainly carries its weight. Maybe three or four cuts short of being a truly exceptional record, it is at the least a good one.
Rating: 6.5/10
Best Tracks: "H.O.T.T.", "Music Is Drugs", "Mountains"
The Legends- 'Over And Over'
A record which is in many ways similar to The Raveonettes 2008 release 'Lust Lust Lust'. Lots of backwashed distortion for the sake of pure noise, often with a smooth 60's boy/girl vocal melody submerged somewhere just under the surface of the scuzz. It is not always a pleasing cacophony however. This is a highly produced, sought after buzz (not at all the no-fi hum of No Age or Wavves), which on cuts like "Seconds Away" and the title track, is just confounding. When the noise pulls back, there are some pleasing moments, but again they overdo it, often crossing from heartfelt territory into schmaltzy. For a record with so much promise, this one can be frustrating. That being said, if you can overlook a few grievances, there is a lot of fun to be had in between.
Rating: 5/10
Best Tracks: "Always The Same", "Heartbeats"
Lacrosse- 'Bandages For The Heart'
I can't help but think that the word pop doesn't quite do the music here justice, kind of like how the demure bear sitting on the cover in no way prepares you for the busting-out-of-the-speakers-raucous-synth-happiness-explosion that is Lacrosse. When the tunes have the melody to carry themselves, the sound works. On occasion however, the group find themselves outstripped by their own ambition. When this happens the record can come off as cheesy or plain annoying, but I must say that these moments are rare. Most of the time, the listener will find themselves won over by the dazzling charm and energy that characterizes the entirety of 'Bandages For The Heart'. I can't help but wish that the unison male/female vocals would make the occasional attempt at true harmony, but what Lacrosse lacks in chops they more than make up for in spirit.
Rating: 7/10
Best Tracks: "All The Little Things That You Do","Bandages For The Heart", "I See A Brightness"
Howling Bells- 'Radio Wars'
Besides giving Zooey Deschanel some stiff competition for the title of cutest girl in indie rock, Juanita Stein also fronts a band. Here her vocals are soaring and spacey, with nothing bearing the immediacy or crunch of the grungier tracks off the bands 2006 debut. The backing instrumentals give her the room to air out these melodies, yet effectively keep her from straying into the unstructured washes of noise characterizing artists like Bat For Lashes. This can make it hard to figure out what exactly Howling Bells are trying to be; not quite a straight rock band, and yet far from the lush pop of Mazzy Star. The heavy production bores, and sucks whatever character there is right out of the mix. I for see the group surmounting this identity crisis sometime in the future, but for the meantime, the music is just not that compelling.
Rating: 4/10
Best Tracks: "It Ain't You", "Digital Hearts"
The Dead Weather- 'Horehound'
The Dead Weather actually does sound remarkably like the sum of its parts; the harder rock of Queens Of The Stone Age, the sexiness of the Kills, and the blues of the White Stripes all surface in equal parts here. Over 'Icky Thump' and 'Consolers Of The Lonely', one couldn't help but feel that Jack White was slipping away from the roots that had originally made him so great. And while the same trends continue here, by taking the guitar out of his hands it is somehow so much easier to bear (not to mention solidifying suspicions that Dean Fertita can really play). Given the increasing rarity that a good hard rock record is these days, I probably tend to give The Dead Weather the benefit of the doubt in spots. When you get down to it though, 'Horehound' hits you hard right in the gut. With all the twee and folk proliferating hard drives these days, on occasion that is exactly what is needed. If nothing else, the album is a testament to the reality that sex and violence will always have a place in rock music.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "I Cut Like A Buffalo","Treat Me Like Your Mother", "New Pony"
Drug Rug- 'Paint The Fence Invisible'
A young couple playing music together: tougher than Mates of State, cuter than The White Stripes, lacking the folk of Bowerbirds, and with none of the mush of Hello, Blue Roses. You're right, that didn't really help at all. This music falls into the trap of having no truly unique characteristics apart from being straight-up indie rock. That said, it is pretty good straight-up indie rock. Fans of music running the gamut from Dr. Dog to the Unicorns to A.C. Newman's first record will all find a lot to like.
Rating: 6/10
Best Tracks: "Don't Be Frightened By The Devil", "Coffee In The Morning", "Sooner The Better"
Wheat- 'White Ink, Black Ink'
It is truly unfortunate for Wheat that Phoenix's 'Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix' beat their 'White Ink, Black Ink' to release. Both are electro-tinged, yet guitar based pop records that play on equal fields. If maybe a little slow to start, Wheat manages to take their listeners to more places along the musical journey than their contemporaries even try to. The melodies of the "singles" here may not be quite as catchy, but the record certainly carries its weight. Maybe three or four cuts short of being a truly exceptional record, it is at the least a good one.
Rating: 6.5/10
Best Tracks: "H.O.T.T.", "Music Is Drugs", "Mountains"
The Legends- 'Over And Over'
A record which is in many ways similar to The Raveonettes 2008 release 'Lust Lust Lust'. Lots of backwashed distortion for the sake of pure noise, often with a smooth 60's boy/girl vocal melody submerged somewhere just under the surface of the scuzz. It is not always a pleasing cacophony however. This is a highly produced, sought after buzz (not at all the no-fi hum of No Age or Wavves), which on cuts like "Seconds Away" and the title track, is just confounding. When the noise pulls back, there are some pleasing moments, but again they overdo it, often crossing from heartfelt territory into schmaltzy. For a record with so much promise, this one can be frustrating. That being said, if you can overlook a few grievances, there is a lot of fun to be had in between.
Rating: 5/10
Best Tracks: "Always The Same", "Heartbeats"
Lacrosse- 'Bandages For The Heart'
I can't help but think that the word pop doesn't quite do the music here justice, kind of like how the demure bear sitting on the cover in no way prepares you for the busting-out-of-the-speakers-raucous-synth-happiness-explosion that is Lacrosse. When the tunes have the melody to carry themselves, the sound works. On occasion however, the group find themselves outstripped by their own ambition. When this happens the record can come off as cheesy or plain annoying, but I must say that these moments are rare. Most of the time, the listener will find themselves won over by the dazzling charm and energy that characterizes the entirety of 'Bandages For The Heart'. I can't help but wish that the unison male/female vocals would make the occasional attempt at true harmony, but what Lacrosse lacks in chops they more than make up for in spirit.
Rating: 7/10
Best Tracks: "All The Little Things That You Do","Bandages For The Heart", "I See A Brightness"
Howling Bells- 'Radio Wars'
Besides giving Zooey Deschanel some stiff competition for the title of cutest girl in indie rock, Juanita Stein also fronts a band. Here her vocals are soaring and spacey, with nothing bearing the immediacy or crunch of the grungier tracks off the bands 2006 debut. The backing instrumentals give her the room to air out these melodies, yet effectively keep her from straying into the unstructured washes of noise characterizing artists like Bat For Lashes. This can make it hard to figure out what exactly Howling Bells are trying to be; not quite a straight rock band, and yet far from the lush pop of Mazzy Star. The heavy production bores, and sucks whatever character there is right out of the mix. I for see the group surmounting this identity crisis sometime in the future, but for the meantime, the music is just not that compelling.
Rating: 4/10
Best Tracks: "It Ain't You", "Digital Hearts"
Monday, August 3, 2009
Review: Clay Nightingale- (Self Titled)
Hailing from San Marcos, Texas, are unsigned artists Clay Nightingale. As far as background goes, there is really not too much more I can tell you. The groups myspace page reveals each of the band-members names, but their respective roles, or any true insight into the groups history are not to be found. What is to be found however, are two records; 2008's 'The River and Then the Restless Wind', and 2009's self titled outing.
In regards to the more recent record in question, all feelings of estrangement end after one spin of the disc. In fact, you will most likely feel as if you just spent a week together with these guys. The lyrics to be found here are among the best of the year; immediately accessible and relatable, and yet offering up a fresh sentiment that I only now realize is notably absent from most of pop culture. Though on the surface much of the subject matter seems to relate to nothing more than hanging out and drinking beers, there is hardly a feeling of contentment behind these actions. Rather, we are painted a picture of the late twenties, single male, leading a comfortable yet unfulfilling American life. This record is a testament to that quest, that yearning for fulfillment. The charm of the record, is that it does not try to recreate this yearning in epic Arcade Fire-esque sweeps of theatricality. It does so through simple retellings about afternoons with friends and small happenings in town, painted with subtle Americana brushstrokes in a way that none but Clay Nightingale have quite captured.
The record opens with "Eric McMullen", a classic example of how the wordplay here is open to endless analyzation, without the pitfalls of simply being cryptic. When they drop their own band name in the last lyric of the track (referring to hanging an actual clay nightingale on a Christmas tree for a girl), one could go on for hours trying to decipher what exactly this is signifying: is their music naught but superficial adornment? a testament to stifled and confused love? or was he really just telling a straight story? Whatever the answer is, the poetry remains wholly satisfying. The brilliant "Last Paycheck" follows; arguably an anthem for some lost generation. After anecdotes about spending time at the movies or laying out on trampolines, the singer wonders "if the key to this whole mess, is really in the engine of an old parked car". As the tinkling piano, offset rhythmically by guitar couplets, drops down into resolution, he emphatically states "Man if I don't quit my job, I think I'm gonna lose my mind/I'll grab my last paycheck, Maybe it'll be enough to fill the tank in our new ride/Drive it until sunrise". The discontentment of this record is consistently offset by similar joys however. Joy born most easily by spending time (and usually drinking) with people they love. On "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines" this is most evident; the Silver Pines being friends in another band. The marriage of these two consistent offsetting sentiments, a loathing of the everyday lonely American life verse the joy of being with people you love, often yields the obvious solution of "let's run away together" (as it does in some form or another on "Eric McMullen", "Last Paycheck", "Look Out Driver", "Move To The Woods", etc.). However, by the closer, "Losin It", it has become apparent that this will never happen. It is now when you realize what the familiar sentiment characterizing the music this whole time has been: resignation.
(Sidenote: It is also worth noting that the singers deadpan delivery makes for some great moments of comic levity here as well, which is only appropriate. On one hand you have the badminton based subplot of "1314 San Antonio St.", and on another you have the hilarious line, "Life handed us tomato juice/So we made micheladas for everyone".)
Musically, the tracks accompanying the poetry here are consistently well performed and produced. Often minimalist in scope, but never unwilling to lay a little pedal steel into the mix, very rarely is the band allowed to exercise the dynamic creativity they obviously have. We see flashes of this on the subtle bombast of the outro on "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines", and the staccato violin stabs of "Losin It". Mostly however, the Texas outfit sticks to the formula of pitting stripped down mid-tempo Americana as sepia toned backdrops to the tales playing out within them. The constant balladry does get a little tiresome, particularly on "Bring An Autoharp" ("1314 San Antonio St." is probably the closest thing to a pop song here), but for the most part the instrumentals resonate aptly.
The record closes with the singer asking, "And how are we not freakin' out? How are we not losin' it?". The fact is however that he has already provided the answer. Clay Nightingale may be coming to those hard realizations that their is no perfect romance, no end to a quest for identity, and no higher meaning to be sought in an average life. And as small and lonely and desperate as that makes us all feel, they have certainly come to terms with it more sensibly than most: with good drink, good friends, and most of all, damn good music.
Rating: 8.5/10
Best Tracks: "Last Paycheck", "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines", "Losin It"
In regards to the more recent record in question, all feelings of estrangement end after one spin of the disc. In fact, you will most likely feel as if you just spent a week together with these guys. The lyrics to be found here are among the best of the year; immediately accessible and relatable, and yet offering up a fresh sentiment that I only now realize is notably absent from most of pop culture. Though on the surface much of the subject matter seems to relate to nothing more than hanging out and drinking beers, there is hardly a feeling of contentment behind these actions. Rather, we are painted a picture of the late twenties, single male, leading a comfortable yet unfulfilling American life. This record is a testament to that quest, that yearning for fulfillment. The charm of the record, is that it does not try to recreate this yearning in epic Arcade Fire-esque sweeps of theatricality. It does so through simple retellings about afternoons with friends and small happenings in town, painted with subtle Americana brushstrokes in a way that none but Clay Nightingale have quite captured.
The record opens with "Eric McMullen", a classic example of how the wordplay here is open to endless analyzation, without the pitfalls of simply being cryptic. When they drop their own band name in the last lyric of the track (referring to hanging an actual clay nightingale on a Christmas tree for a girl), one could go on for hours trying to decipher what exactly this is signifying: is their music naught but superficial adornment? a testament to stifled and confused love? or was he really just telling a straight story? Whatever the answer is, the poetry remains wholly satisfying. The brilliant "Last Paycheck" follows; arguably an anthem for some lost generation. After anecdotes about spending time at the movies or laying out on trampolines, the singer wonders "if the key to this whole mess, is really in the engine of an old parked car". As the tinkling piano, offset rhythmically by guitar couplets, drops down into resolution, he emphatically states "Man if I don't quit my job, I think I'm gonna lose my mind/I'll grab my last paycheck, Maybe it'll be enough to fill the tank in our new ride/Drive it until sunrise". The discontentment of this record is consistently offset by similar joys however. Joy born most easily by spending time (and usually drinking) with people they love. On "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines" this is most evident; the Silver Pines being friends in another band. The marriage of these two consistent offsetting sentiments, a loathing of the everyday lonely American life verse the joy of being with people you love, often yields the obvious solution of "let's run away together" (as it does in some form or another on "Eric McMullen", "Last Paycheck", "Look Out Driver", "Move To The Woods", etc.). However, by the closer, "Losin It", it has become apparent that this will never happen. It is now when you realize what the familiar sentiment characterizing the music this whole time has been: resignation.
(Sidenote: It is also worth noting that the singers deadpan delivery makes for some great moments of comic levity here as well, which is only appropriate. On one hand you have the badminton based subplot of "1314 San Antonio St.", and on another you have the hilarious line, "Life handed us tomato juice/So we made micheladas for everyone".)
Musically, the tracks accompanying the poetry here are consistently well performed and produced. Often minimalist in scope, but never unwilling to lay a little pedal steel into the mix, very rarely is the band allowed to exercise the dynamic creativity they obviously have. We see flashes of this on the subtle bombast of the outro on "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines", and the staccato violin stabs of "Losin It". Mostly however, the Texas outfit sticks to the formula of pitting stripped down mid-tempo Americana as sepia toned backdrops to the tales playing out within them. The constant balladry does get a little tiresome, particularly on "Bring An Autoharp" ("1314 San Antonio St." is probably the closest thing to a pop song here), but for the most part the instrumentals resonate aptly.
The record closes with the singer asking, "And how are we not freakin' out? How are we not losin' it?". The fact is however that he has already provided the answer. Clay Nightingale may be coming to those hard realizations that their is no perfect romance, no end to a quest for identity, and no higher meaning to be sought in an average life. And as small and lonely and desperate as that makes us all feel, they have certainly come to terms with it more sensibly than most: with good drink, good friends, and most of all, damn good music.
Rating: 8.5/10
Best Tracks: "Last Paycheck", "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines", "Losin It"
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Industry Commentary: Blurred Lines
We've all heard the old cliche; "Yer generation just don't make no good music anymurr!" The fact is however that more music is being made, and being made available to mass audiences, in modern times than ever before. And consequently, more good music is being made as well. Thats right, I said it. The 1960's cannot hold a candle to the first decade of the new milennium. Granted, todays music is hugely in debt to everything that has been done before it, but that is simply the nature of history. The facts still remain. The question here, is why. And the answer quite obviously is the internet.
The bad rep our generation gets pegged with stems almost completely from what is considered "popular" music in todays society (quite a different thing from "pop" music at this point, I must point out). Popular music has always been characterized, most easily, by what gets played on the radio. This is a grossly unfair evaluation of the state of music however, as radio is long dead. Don't even bother bringing out the paddles. At one point being the medium of learning about new bands and simply listening to music, it is now a lifeless mass of sonic sludge. In order to make my point: you undoubtedly have the 'classic rock' station in your city, yes? And every time you flip to it you know exactly what you are going to hear. The same one hundred songs, characterized of the same tired Steve Miller to CCR to The Rolling Stones to Aerosmith, and that one Bob Seger song that no one has truly enjoyed in two decades. You'll here Led Zeppelin, but never a cut like "Bron Y Aur Stomp". If you get Pink Floyd it will be "Money". If your lucky enough to hear T. Rex it will undoubtedly be "Bang A Gong (Get it On)". Somehow, a classic rock radio station, after years of existence, will have never played cuts by acts like King Crimson, The Pretty Things, The Zombies, or Van der Graaf Generator. Much less deep cuts from Traffic, Jethro Tull, The Kinks, etc. My point being that none of these "classic rock dj's" has made a concious decision when it comes to what they are about to spin twenty years. And lack of conciousness is death. Not convinced yet? All things must evolve in order to stay alive. Are Talking Heads not yet classic enough to get a cut here and there? Would anyone really change the station if Pixies "Where Is My Mind?" came on the air? Not to mention that a rock station should see it as their sole responsibility to preserve a genre (if not radio, who else is going to do it?). Yet, have you ever heard the Black Keys or the Raconteurs on such a station? Where is their deserved air time coming from? Natural selection has spoken- radio is dead.
You may argue that by picking a station that plays ostensibly old music, I made it easier on myself. But the popular stations of today are really no different from popular stations of the 60's. These stations are not reactions to what people like, they generate what people like. Those who are not inclined to seek music on their own simply flip on the radio, and hence are then more likely to buy a record that they have some familiarity with. These said records, are just as corporately influenced ("manufactured" so to speak) today as they were fifty years ago. We have Lady Ga Ga, they had the Monkees. If the oldtimers change their argument to "our manufactured music was better than yours is.." I will humbly concede.
As we all remember from our highschool biology courses, when an ecological niche is left empty something quickly comes scurrying in to fill it. Exit radio, enter internet. The internet did not take this spot without competition. For awhile car commercials were seeming to emerge as the new medium for musical discovery (God help us..), and one could argue that the movie "Garden State" did more for popularizing a slew of talented underground acts than any other single influence post year 2000. In the end, however, the internet was just too big, too powerful, and had too many options. Hooray, we are saved! Right? Or is the internet, seemingly the saviour of music, slowly destroying it...
Its an old conundrum. An ecosystem has too many snakes, so they import mongooses. Now the snakes are gone, but there is a mongoose problem. A city has too much crime, so they bolster up the police. Now crime is gone, but there is a cop problem. The music industry is stifled, so it unleashes itself to the world via internet. Now we can all hear the music, but yes, there is an internet problem. I don't really need to outline it for you. Music has become devalued. Through file sharing anyone can hear anything (and everything) for free. Artists are forced to stream albums pre-release just to get the quality version heard, as opposed to the leak. iTunes has built a singles obsessed culture, and copyright laws as far as sampling and remixing goes are all but irrelevant. Music is in chaos. But a glorious chaos it is. Just like a riot on a city street, windows are being smashed and flat screen TV's run off with. Because the beauty of chaos, is opportunity. With all things equal, why yes, I'll listen to Spoon's new record, and why not have a large helping of these three completely unknown acts as well? There's no reason not to, and the unknown bands love it. They finally have equal footing with the big boys. Shelf space they would never dream of in a record store, is theirs for the taking if they simply put it on the net. Essentially, where this is going, is one central question. Is the creation of music primarily a business (to which the internet seeks to destroy), an art (which the net has accelerated)?
In a capitalistic society, pragmatically you must admit that business is a real concern. Without monetary means to devote a life to making music, there will be no more 'Abbey Road', or 'Come On Feel The Illinoise!". However, from the art perspective, there has never been such an explosion since the Renaissance. So logically we ask, how did the Renaissance solve this problem? Patronage. Independent, wealthy men, who paid artists to simply live and make art. Yes, it sounds naive and idealistic, but this really happened. You may argue that record labels fill this void, but a record label is too firmly rooted in capitalist modalities. Meaning, simply, its all about the money. If bands aren't being profitable, they are either dropped or "urged" to change their sound. Tours are structured around convenience and cost. In the end record labels are about pushing merch and licensing. The key, is to remove artists from the sphere of capitalism altogether. In this way, they are completely removed from all of the hindrances of the internet's blurred lines between the two. There will be no pressure to put everything out for free simply to get it heard, and there will be no need for comprimising the medium in which it is conveyed for the sake of listener convenience. All choices made, would be made based on artistic, and not business decisions. For example, artists wouldn't need to (for the sake of necessity) sign with iTunes, where there works of labor and love will be chopped up by listeners to lone tracks. They won't need to stream albums weeks before release. Tours could take on more originality. Heck, they could release everything exclusively on vinyl, just because, if that's what the muses were telling them. At the same time however, the internet would remain as it is, an outlet for everybody, simply without all the blurred lines.
To begin with, I call upon Paul Mcartney, David Bowie, Bruce Springstein, Robert Plant, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, David Gilmour, Brian Eno, Thom Yorke, and Steve Winwood. Find young, artistically minded, talented young acts. Take them under your wing. I'm not talking about just giving them a shout out, I'm not talking about just letting them record in your studio. Give them a salary. Give them the resources to do whatever it is that their zeal for music drives them to do. After these fine gentlemen have sewn the seeds, and the fruits have been tasted, the trend will catch. We will have billionaires like Donald Trump and Bill Gates doing the same, and patronage will be born again at last. The second renaissance truly come. And as good as music is now- oh I can only imagine.
I can only think of one example in modern times of a somewhat similar relationship. I think it had to do with an oddball named Andy Warhol, and a group who called themselves the Velvet Underground... convinced yet? You know what has to be done. Implore your neighborhood superstar until they just can't say no. Just as radio turned over to the fruitful age of the internet, the next step must invariably come.
The bad rep our generation gets pegged with stems almost completely from what is considered "popular" music in todays society (quite a different thing from "pop" music at this point, I must point out). Popular music has always been characterized, most easily, by what gets played on the radio. This is a grossly unfair evaluation of the state of music however, as radio is long dead. Don't even bother bringing out the paddles. At one point being the medium of learning about new bands and simply listening to music, it is now a lifeless mass of sonic sludge. In order to make my point: you undoubtedly have the 'classic rock' station in your city, yes? And every time you flip to it you know exactly what you are going to hear. The same one hundred songs, characterized of the same tired Steve Miller to CCR to The Rolling Stones to Aerosmith, and that one Bob Seger song that no one has truly enjoyed in two decades. You'll here Led Zeppelin, but never a cut like "Bron Y Aur Stomp". If you get Pink Floyd it will be "Money". If your lucky enough to hear T. Rex it will undoubtedly be "Bang A Gong (Get it On)". Somehow, a classic rock radio station, after years of existence, will have never played cuts by acts like King Crimson, The Pretty Things, The Zombies, or Van der Graaf Generator. Much less deep cuts from Traffic, Jethro Tull, The Kinks, etc. My point being that none of these "classic rock dj's" has made a concious decision when it comes to what they are about to spin twenty years. And lack of conciousness is death. Not convinced yet? All things must evolve in order to stay alive. Are Talking Heads not yet classic enough to get a cut here and there? Would anyone really change the station if Pixies "Where Is My Mind?" came on the air? Not to mention that a rock station should see it as their sole responsibility to preserve a genre (if not radio, who else is going to do it?). Yet, have you ever heard the Black Keys or the Raconteurs on such a station? Where is their deserved air time coming from? Natural selection has spoken- radio is dead.
You may argue that by picking a station that plays ostensibly old music, I made it easier on myself. But the popular stations of today are really no different from popular stations of the 60's. These stations are not reactions to what people like, they generate what people like. Those who are not inclined to seek music on their own simply flip on the radio, and hence are then more likely to buy a record that they have some familiarity with. These said records, are just as corporately influenced ("manufactured" so to speak) today as they were fifty years ago. We have Lady Ga Ga, they had the Monkees. If the oldtimers change their argument to "our manufactured music was better than yours is.." I will humbly concede.
As we all remember from our highschool biology courses, when an ecological niche is left empty something quickly comes scurrying in to fill it. Exit radio, enter internet. The internet did not take this spot without competition. For awhile car commercials were seeming to emerge as the new medium for musical discovery (God help us..), and one could argue that the movie "Garden State" did more for popularizing a slew of talented underground acts than any other single influence post year 2000. In the end, however, the internet was just too big, too powerful, and had too many options. Hooray, we are saved! Right? Or is the internet, seemingly the saviour of music, slowly destroying it...
Its an old conundrum. An ecosystem has too many snakes, so they import mongooses. Now the snakes are gone, but there is a mongoose problem. A city has too much crime, so they bolster up the police. Now crime is gone, but there is a cop problem. The music industry is stifled, so it unleashes itself to the world via internet. Now we can all hear the music, but yes, there is an internet problem. I don't really need to outline it for you. Music has become devalued. Through file sharing anyone can hear anything (and everything) for free. Artists are forced to stream albums pre-release just to get the quality version heard, as opposed to the leak. iTunes has built a singles obsessed culture, and copyright laws as far as sampling and remixing goes are all but irrelevant. Music is in chaos. But a glorious chaos it is. Just like a riot on a city street, windows are being smashed and flat screen TV's run off with. Because the beauty of chaos, is opportunity. With all things equal, why yes, I'll listen to Spoon's new record, and why not have a large helping of these three completely unknown acts as well? There's no reason not to, and the unknown bands love it. They finally have equal footing with the big boys. Shelf space they would never dream of in a record store, is theirs for the taking if they simply put it on the net. Essentially, where this is going, is one central question. Is the creation of music primarily a business (to which the internet seeks to destroy), an art (which the net has accelerated)?
In a capitalistic society, pragmatically you must admit that business is a real concern. Without monetary means to devote a life to making music, there will be no more 'Abbey Road', or 'Come On Feel The Illinoise!". However, from the art perspective, there has never been such an explosion since the Renaissance. So logically we ask, how did the Renaissance solve this problem? Patronage. Independent, wealthy men, who paid artists to simply live and make art. Yes, it sounds naive and idealistic, but this really happened. You may argue that record labels fill this void, but a record label is too firmly rooted in capitalist modalities. Meaning, simply, its all about the money. If bands aren't being profitable, they are either dropped or "urged" to change their sound. Tours are structured around convenience and cost. In the end record labels are about pushing merch and licensing. The key, is to remove artists from the sphere of capitalism altogether. In this way, they are completely removed from all of the hindrances of the internet's blurred lines between the two. There will be no pressure to put everything out for free simply to get it heard, and there will be no need for comprimising the medium in which it is conveyed for the sake of listener convenience. All choices made, would be made based on artistic, and not business decisions. For example, artists wouldn't need to (for the sake of necessity) sign with iTunes, where there works of labor and love will be chopped up by listeners to lone tracks. They won't need to stream albums weeks before release. Tours could take on more originality. Heck, they could release everything exclusively on vinyl, just because, if that's what the muses were telling them. At the same time however, the internet would remain as it is, an outlet for everybody, simply without all the blurred lines.
To begin with, I call upon Paul Mcartney, David Bowie, Bruce Springstein, Robert Plant, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, David Gilmour, Brian Eno, Thom Yorke, and Steve Winwood. Find young, artistically minded, talented young acts. Take them under your wing. I'm not talking about just giving them a shout out, I'm not talking about just letting them record in your studio. Give them a salary. Give them the resources to do whatever it is that their zeal for music drives them to do. After these fine gentlemen have sewn the seeds, and the fruits have been tasted, the trend will catch. We will have billionaires like Donald Trump and Bill Gates doing the same, and patronage will be born again at last. The second renaissance truly come. And as good as music is now- oh I can only imagine.
I can only think of one example in modern times of a somewhat similar relationship. I think it had to do with an oddball named Andy Warhol, and a group who called themselves the Velvet Underground... convinced yet? You know what has to be done. Implore your neighborhood superstar until they just can't say no. Just as radio turned over to the fruitful age of the internet, the next step must invariably come.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Albums I Love: The Village Green Preservation Society
While the influence of some bands will manifest immediately, spawning a surge of sound alikes attempting to saturate radio waves while the trend is still fresh, others may linger for years before fully coming to fruition. In this case, I am alluding to The Kinks and their 1968 album 'The Village Green Preservation Society'. And the hangover influence I refer to, thankfully, has nothing to do with Van Halen. By '68 the Kinks (led by songwriter Ray Davies) had dropped the straightforward riff heavy radio pop that gave the world "You Really Got Me", and moved into, although still distinctly pop, much more obscure territory. In fact the album failed to even chart on its release, a possible explanation why further forays into the material being mined here weren't truly picked up again until 23 years later in 1991 with the formation of the Elephant Six collective.
Now I, being somewhat of an Elephant Six enthusiast, don't want to trick any casual listeners into thinking that they have just discovered the predecessor to 'In The Aeroplane Over The Sea'. Likewise, 'Village Green' does not go anywhere near the heavily psychedelic or ambient experimentation of The Olivia Tremor Control. To those who are looking for the parent of the quirky, concept based, sunny pop releases like Of Montreal's 'Cherry Peel' or 'Gay Parade', Elf Power's 'Dream In Sound', The Essex Green's 'Cannibal Sea', The Apple In Stereo's 'When The Red King Comes', or even, in not quite so lo-fi a fashion, The Music Tapes 'First Imaginary Symphony For Nomad', there is not a more quintessential record to point straight back to.
On 'Village Green' there is a consistent and heavy theme throughout which is solidified by the title: nostalgia. The theme is epitomized by the title track ("We are the office block persecution affinity/God save little shops, china cups and virginity.."), and then pounded home time and again on subsequent songs like "Do You Remember Walter?", "Picture Book", "The Last of The Steam Powered Trains", etc. Each paint a portrait, either of small town values, ideal heros, childhood, or family. Side two then begins with "Animal Farm", and the overarching statement "This world is big and wild and half insane..". From there the record becomes, well, quirky. Perhaps in an expression of how insane the world has become, songs characterize the destruction of the village green ("Village Green"), world-traveling-speaking-obese felines ("Phenomenal Cat"), and child-eating witches ("Wicked Annabella"), among other things. The album concludes with "People Take Pictures of Each Other", a brilliant satirical stab at how futile such grabs at nostalgia are. The past, ultimately, is stuck in those little snapshots. The song, in keeping with the album however, manages to make this ominous statement more in an expression of joy than hopelessness.
Nostalgia has always been at the heart of E6, but oftentimes passed off as a mere musical nostalgia. Close listens to "The Gay Parade" (an opus to the small town) or "First Imaginary Symphony For Nomad" (a zany sort of argument against television) show that the ties do in fact run deeper than this. If nothing else, the sheer childlike innocence exuded by so many of the early E6 records is nostalgic in itself. And like 'Village Green', the "sort-of concept album" is a staple within the collective. Albums tied together by loose messages (which while never didacticly pounded home, and never allowed to pull the music in a direction it would not otherwise be headed) are never so typified outside of the two examples portrayed here. And while the 60's was a time of experimentation, no one else at the time had the sheer unabashed quirkiness to put out the kind of lyrical insanity over such subdued, gentle backing tracks, as if it all were perfectly normal, as Ray Davies. Had this ever truly resurfaced until Elf Power and "Simon (the Bird With the Candy Bar Head)"? It had not. Perhaps the largest tie here, however, is simply that despite all of the concepts and quirk crowding such records, every track is unfailingly appealing and listenable. Consistently excellent pop material. Over top the odd instrumentation and lyrical content, this is still toe tapping sing along 60's rock. And frankly, as any E6'r already knows, its a lot of fun to be able to sink your teeth into something a little juicier than "Love Me Do" on occasion.
Essentially, this is what I'm saying: in 1968 a seed was planted, a seed called "The Village Green Preservation Society". Invisibly it grew for 20+ years, until the tree finally began to branch out in myriad directions, ultimately giving birth to the rightful followers it deserved (E6). Then Nickee Coco climbed the tree and fell asleep in it. Point being, if you picked up on that last sentence, you need to hear this record. Honestly, you owe it to the world to "help save fu manchu, moriarty and dracula", and you owe it to yourself to listen to The Kinks.
Best Tracks: "The Village Green Preservation Society", "Picture Book", "Big Sky"
Now I, being somewhat of an Elephant Six enthusiast, don't want to trick any casual listeners into thinking that they have just discovered the predecessor to 'In The Aeroplane Over The Sea'. Likewise, 'Village Green' does not go anywhere near the heavily psychedelic or ambient experimentation of The Olivia Tremor Control. To those who are looking for the parent of the quirky, concept based, sunny pop releases like Of Montreal's 'Cherry Peel' or 'Gay Parade', Elf Power's 'Dream In Sound', The Essex Green's 'Cannibal Sea', The Apple In Stereo's 'When The Red King Comes', or even, in not quite so lo-fi a fashion, The Music Tapes 'First Imaginary Symphony For Nomad', there is not a more quintessential record to point straight back to.
On 'Village Green' there is a consistent and heavy theme throughout which is solidified by the title: nostalgia. The theme is epitomized by the title track ("We are the office block persecution affinity/God save little shops, china cups and virginity.."), and then pounded home time and again on subsequent songs like "Do You Remember Walter?", "Picture Book", "The Last of The Steam Powered Trains", etc. Each paint a portrait, either of small town values, ideal heros, childhood, or family. Side two then begins with "Animal Farm", and the overarching statement "This world is big and wild and half insane..". From there the record becomes, well, quirky. Perhaps in an expression of how insane the world has become, songs characterize the destruction of the village green ("Village Green"), world-traveling-speaking-obese felines ("Phenomenal Cat"), and child-eating witches ("Wicked Annabella"), among other things. The album concludes with "People Take Pictures of Each Other", a brilliant satirical stab at how futile such grabs at nostalgia are. The past, ultimately, is stuck in those little snapshots. The song, in keeping with the album however, manages to make this ominous statement more in an expression of joy than hopelessness.
Nostalgia has always been at the heart of E6, but oftentimes passed off as a mere musical nostalgia. Close listens to "The Gay Parade" (an opus to the small town) or "First Imaginary Symphony For Nomad" (a zany sort of argument against television) show that the ties do in fact run deeper than this. If nothing else, the sheer childlike innocence exuded by so many of the early E6 records is nostalgic in itself. And like 'Village Green', the "sort-of concept album" is a staple within the collective. Albums tied together by loose messages (which while never didacticly pounded home, and never allowed to pull the music in a direction it would not otherwise be headed) are never so typified outside of the two examples portrayed here. And while the 60's was a time of experimentation, no one else at the time had the sheer unabashed quirkiness to put out the kind of lyrical insanity over such subdued, gentle backing tracks, as if it all were perfectly normal, as Ray Davies. Had this ever truly resurfaced until Elf Power and "Simon (the Bird With the Candy Bar Head)"? It had not. Perhaps the largest tie here, however, is simply that despite all of the concepts and quirk crowding such records, every track is unfailingly appealing and listenable. Consistently excellent pop material. Over top the odd instrumentation and lyrical content, this is still toe tapping sing along 60's rock. And frankly, as any E6'r already knows, its a lot of fun to be able to sink your teeth into something a little juicier than "Love Me Do" on occasion.
Essentially, this is what I'm saying: in 1968 a seed was planted, a seed called "The Village Green Preservation Society". Invisibly it grew for 20+ years, until the tree finally began to branch out in myriad directions, ultimately giving birth to the rightful followers it deserved (E6). Then Nickee Coco climbed the tree and fell asleep in it. Point being, if you picked up on that last sentence, you need to hear this record. Honestly, you owe it to the world to "help save fu manchu, moriarty and dracula", and you owe it to yourself to listen to The Kinks.
Best Tracks: "The Village Green Preservation Society", "Picture Book", "Big Sky"
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Review: The Rural Alberta Advantage- Hometowns
What is indie? At one point or another you have undoubtedly been asked to explain by someone, whether simply a musically skeptical friend or even your mom. Each time the fumbled explanation comes out the same. "Well, you see, it started as having to do with labels, but now that doesn't really matter so much, and it can really sound like anything I suppose..." In a world where the indie blanket spans from Beirut to LCD Soundsystem, how do you explain it? The "if you have to ask you'll never know" approach, while maybe applicable, is a cop out. When it comes to indie at its roots, down to its very core, it is in fact one of the most unmistakable 'genres' in existence. I am speaking of the indie of Pavement's 'Slanted & Enchanted', of Guided by Voices 'Bee Thousand'; and it is that unmistakable, ramshackle, heartfelt, homemade brand of pop that distinctly characterizes the debut from The Rural Alberta Advantage.
Testament to this, 'Hometowns' has been out, self released, for about a year. It wasn't until recently in 2009 that Saddle Creek picked up the band and gave the record its deserved proper release. And what a record it is- immediately likable, and yet undeniably and consistently flawed. A producer or some sort of editor perusing this collection of songs would certainly have streamlined what we have before us into a more succinct and enjoyable listen. (For instance, what does the under-two-minute-long "Four Night Rider" really bring to the table here?) However, in many ways enduring the flaws and missteps of the album, while finding amongst them every sparkling joy, makes the honesty and earnestness of the album all the more apparent. It is almost as if watching a child grow, at times being slightly disappointed in their behavior, but in the end being unable to do anymore then let out that caged smile and affectionately ruffle the toddlers hair.
The first misstep appears on the opening track, "The Ballad of the RAA". Despite seemingly trying to encapsulate the band within this one track (based on the title), the desperate yearning of Nils Edenloff's voice is a bit much to stomach before having time to become fully acclimated to it. Throughout the track his vocals are always stretching just a little higher (for the note perhaps?) with not but a lone kick from a drum machine and simple synth riff to distract. It is followed by the immediately likable folksy jaunt of "Rush Apart", and the album has hit the ground running. There are very few "perfect" songs here. Each have elements that detract. However, as soon as you begin losing faith in a particular track, something will happen. A harmony, a lyric, a rhythmic break, and the song will be heard anew and become completely engaging again. Yes, this makes for quite a roller coaster ride of a listen, but a wholeheartedly compelling listen as well. One of the most compelling elements being the evolution of Edenloff's aforementioned voice. Sometimes a beast all his own, and at other times channeling almost hauntingly Jeff Mangum ("Luciana") or Colin Meloy ("Frank AB"). Is it this voice that often makes this feel almost like folk music? Possibly some combination of that and the sheer honesty this music is drenched in. The lo-fi nature of the recording keeps the synth's from sounding quite so electronic, and the band and record name don't help the issue. The fact is however, as solidified by gems like "Don't Haunt This Place" and "The Air", that this record is the definition of indie pop.
It is refreshing to see, 17 years after Pavement christened a new type of music "Indie", definable and quality indie records still being made. If nothing else, maybe the album's sheer likability draws from this alone. It is no impostor. No major label slouch vying for street cred. No zany genre experiment tossed off into the only category that would take it. These are a couple of Canadian kids making music they love for each other in a garage. And for the next time your mom asks, that, my friends, is indie.
Best Tracks: "Don't Haunt This Place", "The Air", "Edmonton"
Rating: 6.5/10
Testament to this, 'Hometowns' has been out, self released, for about a year. It wasn't until recently in 2009 that Saddle Creek picked up the band and gave the record its deserved proper release. And what a record it is- immediately likable, and yet undeniably and consistently flawed. A producer or some sort of editor perusing this collection of songs would certainly have streamlined what we have before us into a more succinct and enjoyable listen. (For instance, what does the under-two-minute-long "Four Night Rider" really bring to the table here?) However, in many ways enduring the flaws and missteps of the album, while finding amongst them every sparkling joy, makes the honesty and earnestness of the album all the more apparent. It is almost as if watching a child grow, at times being slightly disappointed in their behavior, but in the end being unable to do anymore then let out that caged smile and affectionately ruffle the toddlers hair.
The first misstep appears on the opening track, "The Ballad of the RAA". Despite seemingly trying to encapsulate the band within this one track (based on the title), the desperate yearning of Nils Edenloff's voice is a bit much to stomach before having time to become fully acclimated to it. Throughout the track his vocals are always stretching just a little higher (for the note perhaps?) with not but a lone kick from a drum machine and simple synth riff to distract. It is followed by the immediately likable folksy jaunt of "Rush Apart", and the album has hit the ground running. There are very few "perfect" songs here. Each have elements that detract. However, as soon as you begin losing faith in a particular track, something will happen. A harmony, a lyric, a rhythmic break, and the song will be heard anew and become completely engaging again. Yes, this makes for quite a roller coaster ride of a listen, but a wholeheartedly compelling listen as well. One of the most compelling elements being the evolution of Edenloff's aforementioned voice. Sometimes a beast all his own, and at other times channeling almost hauntingly Jeff Mangum ("Luciana") or Colin Meloy ("Frank AB"). Is it this voice that often makes this feel almost like folk music? Possibly some combination of that and the sheer honesty this music is drenched in. The lo-fi nature of the recording keeps the synth's from sounding quite so electronic, and the band and record name don't help the issue. The fact is however, as solidified by gems like "Don't Haunt This Place" and "The Air", that this record is the definition of indie pop.
It is refreshing to see, 17 years after Pavement christened a new type of music "Indie", definable and quality indie records still being made. If nothing else, maybe the album's sheer likability draws from this alone. It is no impostor. No major label slouch vying for street cred. No zany genre experiment tossed off into the only category that would take it. These are a couple of Canadian kids making music they love for each other in a garage. And for the next time your mom asks, that, my friends, is indie.
Best Tracks: "Don't Haunt This Place", "The Air", "Edmonton"
Rating: 6.5/10
Monday, July 27, 2009
Live Review: RAGBRAI, 7/18/09, Council Bluffs IA
While 90's pop rock is generally characterized by a pleasant, but fairly straightforward "alternative" take on adult rock (enter the Gin Blossoms, the Wallflowers, Counting Crows, etc.), it did undeniably have some bright spots. After all, good pop music quite simply is good pop music, regardless of the aesthetic it's packaged in. One of the brightest of these bright spots (careful, you may hate me for saying it) was the ironically named Barenaked Ladies. Strip away the initial aesthetic, awkward fat dudes playing tongue in cheek wordplay oriented pop, and you will see that in their wake the group actually left some well rounded, and in fact straight up excellent records. Which doesn't happen terribly often in the scheme of (seemingly) manufactured mainstream pop. Two albums stick out in particular, 1998's 'Stunt' and 2000's 'Maroon'. And as much as I fancy myself an open minded purveyor of the musical collective, I'm not gonna lie, when I went to see them on a Saturday night, those two albums were all I really wanted to hear.
Let me give a dollop of background to the event for reference: the place is Council Bluffs, Iowa, the kickoff town of Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa (don't ask me how I got mixed up in this, I don't even own a bike). The ride consists of 7 days, about 500 miles, almost 12,000 cyclists, and one kick-off concert: the Barenaked Ladies. Not a bad pull for the nature of the event (I mean, biking isn't exactly rock'n'roll lifestyle). You may argue that it is merely a testament to where the Ladies have fallen to in the world, and I would humbly grant you your opinion. Either way, there I was amongst a couple thousand cyclists hoping to get some wordy, pop infused sonic memorabilia of my early highschool days. I was dissapointed.
Granted, the band has put out four studio albums since 'Maroon', so maybe my expectations to hear the stuff I know and love shouldn't have been so high; but like I said, I did not go into this one with an open mind. I heard five songs I truly enjoyed over an hour and a half long set, and you could probably name at least three of them: "If I Had $1,000,000", "Pinch Me", "One Week", "It's All Been Done" and "Falling For The First Time". What made this unbearable were the upwards of six semi-improvised comedy excursions focusing on biking, ribs, and the security guard Shawn, that replaced the other songs I would have enjoyed. After hearing the same sing songy rib jokes for the fourth time around, and coming to the realization that because of this I was not going to hear the music I wanted to, I grew impatient. Even "One Week" got watered down to a jokingly played country-esque number infused with, of all cliches, the riff from "Dueling Banjos". The newer songs played, frankly, were not as good as the older material. A few lived up, but the set quickly grew tired.
What I saw on the stage that night was a band who has submitted to being confined by the stereotypes they are associated with, and ultimately grown exhausted by the limited musical bounds these have allowed them to operate in. Yes, I think the Barenaked Ladies have gotten tired of being the Barenaked Ladies. So what do they do? Instead of playing songs which in their mouth have long gone stale, and not feeling the freedom to expand their sound beyond its original confines, they have chosen to populate their shows with jokes and in the studio put out childrens albums. Ultimately, it was a fun night with friends, but if you want to see a band who is excited about and completely engaged in the music they are making, the Barenaked Ladies will have to get crossed off that list.
Let me give a dollop of background to the event for reference: the place is Council Bluffs, Iowa, the kickoff town of Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa (don't ask me how I got mixed up in this, I don't even own a bike). The ride consists of 7 days, about 500 miles, almost 12,000 cyclists, and one kick-off concert: the Barenaked Ladies. Not a bad pull for the nature of the event (I mean, biking isn't exactly rock'n'roll lifestyle). You may argue that it is merely a testament to where the Ladies have fallen to in the world, and I would humbly grant you your opinion. Either way, there I was amongst a couple thousand cyclists hoping to get some wordy, pop infused sonic memorabilia of my early highschool days. I was dissapointed.
Granted, the band has put out four studio albums since 'Maroon', so maybe my expectations to hear the stuff I know and love shouldn't have been so high; but like I said, I did not go into this one with an open mind. I heard five songs I truly enjoyed over an hour and a half long set, and you could probably name at least three of them: "If I Had $1,000,000", "Pinch Me", "One Week", "It's All Been Done" and "Falling For The First Time". What made this unbearable were the upwards of six semi-improvised comedy excursions focusing on biking, ribs, and the security guard Shawn, that replaced the other songs I would have enjoyed. After hearing the same sing songy rib jokes for the fourth time around, and coming to the realization that because of this I was not going to hear the music I wanted to, I grew impatient. Even "One Week" got watered down to a jokingly played country-esque number infused with, of all cliches, the riff from "Dueling Banjos". The newer songs played, frankly, were not as good as the older material. A few lived up, but the set quickly grew tired.
What I saw on the stage that night was a band who has submitted to being confined by the stereotypes they are associated with, and ultimately grown exhausted by the limited musical bounds these have allowed them to operate in. Yes, I think the Barenaked Ladies have gotten tired of being the Barenaked Ladies. So what do they do? Instead of playing songs which in their mouth have long gone stale, and not feeling the freedom to expand their sound beyond its original confines, they have chosen to populate their shows with jokes and in the studio put out childrens albums. Ultimately, it was a fun night with friends, but if you want to see a band who is excited about and completely engaged in the music they are making, the Barenaked Ladies will have to get crossed off that list.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Catching Up '09 Round Two
Another collection of abbreviated musical insights. These may not all be quite as recent releases, but not to worry- its all still garden fresh. Here we go...
Bibio- 'Ambivalence Avenue'
A really listenable, fairly down tempo, electronically driven album. Not nearly as organic or free flowing as an act like Four Tet, but the music still breathes considerably for this genre. This is especially apparent on the less beat driven outings like "Lovers Carvings". In criticism, sometimes the vocals Bibio provides don't necessarily make sense in the context of the songs, however they do not distract enough to ruin the ambiance of the work- which really, is what this is all about.
Rating: 8/10
Best Tracks: "Fire Ant", "Sugarette", "Lovers Carvings"
Bill Callahan- 'Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle'
It is a select few singers in the musical world at large who can pull off a low baritone to such great effect in a pop setting. Here, Callahan's voice channels what is a pretty collection of folk tunes, but does so almost casually. This never quite allows these pretty songs to ever transcend into beautiful. That said, the casual approach also lends the collection a certain humility, making it all the more likable. You'll enjoy this record, but it won't change your life in quite the way the heavy lyrical content would like it to.
Rating: 7/10
Best Tracks: "Eid Ma Clack Shaw", "Rococo Zephyr", "Faith/Void"
The Mars Volta- "Octahedron"
Why do I listen to the Mars Volta? For the relentlessly manic guitar playing, unpredictable tempo changes, and unfailing dedication to straight-up dizzying rock drenched abandon. Did I say unfailing? On 'Octahedron' all of the above fail us. The album is soft (in terms of what we've come to expect), and predictable. Unfortunately Bixler-Zavala's latin laments alone do not hold my attention. Maybe Rodriquez-Lopez has been dedicating all his prowess to the solo records lately, and leaving none for his band. Either way, this is not the Volta I know and love.
Rating: 5.5/10
Best Tracks: "Since We've Been Wrong"
Pink Mountaintops- 'Outside Love'
What made 'Axis of Evol' so delightful was the authenticity of it's bedroom nature. A rough edged, blues type vibe being played out through drum machine and home recording techniques just hit a unique and wholly satisfiable chord. This 2009 release comes straight from the studio, and any character from the former album has been scrubbed clean. It's unfortunate, but this sounds more like that heinous Great Northern release from earlier this year than what I was hoping for. The music here is simply bland and over produced.
Rating: 4/10
Best Tracks: "Execution"
Sister Suvi- 'Now I Am Champion'
Now here is an odd release. Sometimes oddly fun and compelling, and at other times just plain weird. Not weird in the shock value sense that were used to however. Opener "Deadwood" pretty much sums it up. A choppy, yet slightly reggae tune sung with a Beat Happening-esque indifference that churns on for five plus minutes. And as much as I worry over it I just can't figure out why. What are they going for here? What is the formula? Answer is that there legitimately probably isn't one, which sometimes opens this record up for some fun tunes. Other times though its just confusing.
Rating: 6/10
Best Tracks: "The Lot", "Champion"
Wilco- 'Wilco (the Album)'
I did a whole write-up on Wilco (the band) about a week ago, but here lets just talk about the music. Despite finding "Wilco (the Song)" offputting, the music here is good. It is a solid collection of safe tunes, which at the least you are sure to find very pleasant. The extended instrumental's of 'Sky Blue Sky' are pretty much absent (which is a damn shame in a lineup that boasts Nels Cline on guitar), but the songs remain consistent; and in a few places excellent. Another good album from who will probably be one of the great American bands of our generation.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "You And I", "You Never Know", "I'll Fight"
I may be indisposed for the next week or more as far as posting is concerned, but keep on listening!
Bibio- 'Ambivalence Avenue'
A really listenable, fairly down tempo, electronically driven album. Not nearly as organic or free flowing as an act like Four Tet, but the music still breathes considerably for this genre. This is especially apparent on the less beat driven outings like "Lovers Carvings". In criticism, sometimes the vocals Bibio provides don't necessarily make sense in the context of the songs, however they do not distract enough to ruin the ambiance of the work- which really, is what this is all about.
Rating: 8/10
Best Tracks: "Fire Ant", "Sugarette", "Lovers Carvings"
Bill Callahan- 'Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle'
It is a select few singers in the musical world at large who can pull off a low baritone to such great effect in a pop setting. Here, Callahan's voice channels what is a pretty collection of folk tunes, but does so almost casually. This never quite allows these pretty songs to ever transcend into beautiful. That said, the casual approach also lends the collection a certain humility, making it all the more likable. You'll enjoy this record, but it won't change your life in quite the way the heavy lyrical content would like it to.
Rating: 7/10
Best Tracks: "Eid Ma Clack Shaw", "Rococo Zephyr", "Faith/Void"
The Mars Volta- "Octahedron"
Why do I listen to the Mars Volta? For the relentlessly manic guitar playing, unpredictable tempo changes, and unfailing dedication to straight-up dizzying rock drenched abandon. Did I say unfailing? On 'Octahedron' all of the above fail us. The album is soft (in terms of what we've come to expect), and predictable. Unfortunately Bixler-Zavala's latin laments alone do not hold my attention. Maybe Rodriquez-Lopez has been dedicating all his prowess to the solo records lately, and leaving none for his band. Either way, this is not the Volta I know and love.
Rating: 5.5/10
Best Tracks: "Since We've Been Wrong"
Pink Mountaintops- 'Outside Love'
What made 'Axis of Evol' so delightful was the authenticity of it's bedroom nature. A rough edged, blues type vibe being played out through drum machine and home recording techniques just hit a unique and wholly satisfiable chord. This 2009 release comes straight from the studio, and any character from the former album has been scrubbed clean. It's unfortunate, but this sounds more like that heinous Great Northern release from earlier this year than what I was hoping for. The music here is simply bland and over produced.
Rating: 4/10
Best Tracks: "Execution"
Sister Suvi- 'Now I Am Champion'
Now here is an odd release. Sometimes oddly fun and compelling, and at other times just plain weird. Not weird in the shock value sense that were used to however. Opener "Deadwood" pretty much sums it up. A choppy, yet slightly reggae tune sung with a Beat Happening-esque indifference that churns on for five plus minutes. And as much as I worry over it I just can't figure out why. What are they going for here? What is the formula? Answer is that there legitimately probably isn't one, which sometimes opens this record up for some fun tunes. Other times though its just confusing.
Rating: 6/10
Best Tracks: "The Lot", "Champion"
Wilco- 'Wilco (the Album)'
I did a whole write-up on Wilco (the band) about a week ago, but here lets just talk about the music. Despite finding "Wilco (the Song)" offputting, the music here is good. It is a solid collection of safe tunes, which at the least you are sure to find very pleasant. The extended instrumental's of 'Sky Blue Sky' are pretty much absent (which is a damn shame in a lineup that boasts Nels Cline on guitar), but the songs remain consistent; and in a few places excellent. Another good album from who will probably be one of the great American bands of our generation.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "You And I", "You Never Know", "I'll Fight"
I may be indisposed for the next week or more as far as posting is concerned, but keep on listening!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Review: Bowerbirds- Upper Air
Bowerbirds debuted in 2008 with 'Hymns For A Dark Horse', and in many ways got lost in the shuffle of the Bon Iver and Fleet Foxes craze. In a sense rightfully so, as the record was rather inferior to its many acclaimed folk contemporaries. However, it is undeniable that Bowerbirds spin on indie folk is one all their own, a truly unique take on what in many ways has become a fairly safe genre. Now in 2009, on 'Upper Air', the group present their unique sound to much greater effect, in a shorter, ultimately more gripping and satisfying album.
The overall sound of the two albums is much the same, instrumentally driven by the same acoustic guitar and accordion duo, with the occasional piano trickling into the mix. Vocally, Phil Moore still takes the reins with his elongated speech style of singing. While it would be unfair to say his vocal delivery is merely affected talking, to some it may still come off this way. This is not so much to the detriment of the music as it is just another facet of Bowerbirds unique sound. That said however, one can only wonder how these melodies might play out with Robin Pecknold behind the mic. A welcome addition to the album are the extended vocal responsibilities of Beth Tacular (still the best named gal in music). She harmonizes nicely with her boyfriend/bandmate on the majority of the tracks, and is even seen taking the mic alone on "Beneath Your Tree". (These two are not allowed to get married until he changes his name to 'Phil Tastic'. Just sayin.) Percussive duties on this record also can be seen to extend beyond the lone bass drum of before. A less is more approach is still taken in regard to the drums, but the full kit definitely gives a needed punch to quite a few numbers.
Opener "House Of Diamonds" is a telling sign of whats to come; not necessarily an immediately catchy or memorable song, but a very enjoyable listen. The highest praise 'UA' can be given in fact is simply that it avoids almost all of the pitfalls that plagued the duo in the past. There is nothing that even nearly approaches the drudgery of "The Marbled Godwit" or "The Ticonderoga" of 'HFADH'. That is not to say the record does not play out slowly. It is an album to be approached without expectation in order to truly be enjoyed. Particularly songs like "Chimes" and "Crooked Lust" require the listener to meet the band halfway before they can be duly appreciated. Perhaps the albums greatest feat however lies in its more tender moments. While this is sentiment Bowerbirds have always tried to communicate, they have never managed to connect before in quite the way that songs like "Silver Clouds" and "Ghost Life" succeed in doing. Granted, nothing on the album is as immediate as "In Your Talons" or "Human Hands", but nothing here ever drags in the manner that 'HFADH' did either.
Ultimately, you may never love this record per se, but it is a very low probability that you will actively dislike it either. That said, it is hard to detract from Bowerbirds for mediocrity or playing it safe as their sound is a truly unique and enjoyable one. If only for this reason the group is well worth checking out, in which case 'Upper Air' is undeniably the ticket to do it.
Rating: 7/10
Best Tracks: "House Of Diamonds", "Northern Lights", "Bright Future"
The overall sound of the two albums is much the same, instrumentally driven by the same acoustic guitar and accordion duo, with the occasional piano trickling into the mix. Vocally, Phil Moore still takes the reins with his elongated speech style of singing. While it would be unfair to say his vocal delivery is merely affected talking, to some it may still come off this way. This is not so much to the detriment of the music as it is just another facet of Bowerbirds unique sound. That said however, one can only wonder how these melodies might play out with Robin Pecknold behind the mic. A welcome addition to the album are the extended vocal responsibilities of Beth Tacular (still the best named gal in music). She harmonizes nicely with her boyfriend/bandmate on the majority of the tracks, and is even seen taking the mic alone on "Beneath Your Tree". (These two are not allowed to get married until he changes his name to 'Phil Tastic'. Just sayin.) Percussive duties on this record also can be seen to extend beyond the lone bass drum of before. A less is more approach is still taken in regard to the drums, but the full kit definitely gives a needed punch to quite a few numbers.
Opener "House Of Diamonds" is a telling sign of whats to come; not necessarily an immediately catchy or memorable song, but a very enjoyable listen. The highest praise 'UA' can be given in fact is simply that it avoids almost all of the pitfalls that plagued the duo in the past. There is nothing that even nearly approaches the drudgery of "The Marbled Godwit" or "The Ticonderoga" of 'HFADH'. That is not to say the record does not play out slowly. It is an album to be approached without expectation in order to truly be enjoyed. Particularly songs like "Chimes" and "Crooked Lust" require the listener to meet the band halfway before they can be duly appreciated. Perhaps the albums greatest feat however lies in its more tender moments. While this is sentiment Bowerbirds have always tried to communicate, they have never managed to connect before in quite the way that songs like "Silver Clouds" and "Ghost Life" succeed in doing. Granted, nothing on the album is as immediate as "In Your Talons" or "Human Hands", but nothing here ever drags in the manner that 'HFADH' did either.
Ultimately, you may never love this record per se, but it is a very low probability that you will actively dislike it either. That said, it is hard to detract from Bowerbirds for mediocrity or playing it safe as their sound is a truly unique and enjoyable one. If only for this reason the group is well worth checking out, in which case 'Upper Air' is undeniably the ticket to do it.
Rating: 7/10
Best Tracks: "House Of Diamonds", "Northern Lights", "Bright Future"
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Albums I Love: Keep It Like A Secret
Built to Spill hover in time as one of those bands who, while everyone seems eager to acknowledge the acclaim of much of their work, never seem to have generated the excitement and passion that a rock band should. For instance, if per chance a conversation about the best album of 1997 were to arise, immediately three Radiohead fans (one having just popped out of the ceiling tile, another actually conjuring out of thin air) will be down your throat lauding the praises of 'OK Computer'. Meanwhile the Built to Spill fan will remain relaxing quietly in the corner, not because he has any doubts of 'Perfect From Now On's rightful claim to the throne, but simply because BtS's music is not the type to make any eyeballs immediately bug out of their sockets. It is undeniably rock, and yet comes from a meticulously calculated, carefully structured framework. It is music that rewards patience and calm, in almost direct antithesis to the whole aura of "rock". And yet, when that release occurs, there is hardly a better reward anywhere in the genre.
(Sidenote: Just to be fair and thorough, in the event of the aforementioned conversation occurring, Elliot Smith fans would start hunting around for sharp objects, Bjork fans would open a can of tofu, the three Yo La Tengo fans in the world would not be present, and the Spiritualized fans would do us all a favor and start taking the Radiohead zealots out.)
Take, for prime example, the third track of today's loved album (1999's 'Keep It Like A Secret'), entitled "Carry the Zero". Over six minutes the band lays down a solid tune, with good drive and a catchy enough melody. What is not as immediately apparent, and is characteristic of BtS, are the additional melodies being layered and dubbed through subsequent guitars throughout the piece. Each, in its own right, is subtle, and carefully weaved into the mix. By the climax of the song however, they all come together to achieve one of the most cathartic endings in rock and roll history. Most listeners dipping into the band for the first time would hear the tune for a minute or two, get a grasp of their sound, and then most likely notice the track length and skip, completely missing out on the whole grandeur that constitutes the genius of Doug Martsch.
A similar moment of quintessential musical bliss occurs in the introducing build-up of the song "Time Trap". The track begins with a cleanly fingered bass line, thick enough to nearly be palpable, before being saturated by a wash of distortion buzzing comfortably just over top. Out of the drone, the mesh of interlocking lines and melodies start to weave themselves together, ultimately achieving a soaring apex. From the heights however, on a beat it is all succinctly stripped back to a single snappy guitar, allowing the vocal melody to take over. In this way, the music of BtS often comes across as more of a composition rather than a traditional song. And the group does pay a toll for this. I rarely find myself humming a BtS tune, as even the poppiest of their work simply does not lend itself to casual listening. This said however, their music typically adheres too closely to conventional song structure, and is too reliant on vocals to toss the band off as more post rockers. BtS undeniably are a unique and treasured addition to the pantheon of American rock.
In the BtS catalog, 1994's 'There's Nothing Wrong With Love', and the aforementioned 'Perfect From Now On' and 'Keep It Like A Secret' are generally considered great works. Of the three, 'PFNO's eight lengthy tracks embody the spirit of the compositional nature of BtS's arrangements, while the slightly more ramshackle 'TNWWL' presents us with the closest thing to a pop based album the band has ever done (which, frankly, is not that close). On 'KILAS', recorded after both of these records, the band truly marries each of these musical components to perfection. Oftentimes even, within the scope of a single song ("The Plan", "Time Trap", "Temporarily Blind"). You still have your sweeping epics ("Broken Chairs") and your two minute pop ("Center Of The Universe"). To be found nowhere else in the BtS catalog is a track that approaches the gentle beauty of "Else". 'KILAS' is virtually an essay on balance, a tutorial on how to make an accessible record laced with genius.
As said however, it is not a genius that jumps out to greet you. It must be approached patiently and openly, and given the time and attention needed in order to let it's majesty unfold. If you can't understand why Doug Martsch's name is always in the conversation of great indie guitarists, its not because of sprawling and obvious solos. Rather, its because of what he does when most aren't listening, and the dividends that his work pays to those who are. It's not an easy secret to share, so most follow step and just keep on keeping it. Cats out of the bag now Doug.
Best Tracks: "Carry The Zero", "Time Trap", "You Were Right"
(Sidenote: Just to be fair and thorough, in the event of the aforementioned conversation occurring, Elliot Smith fans would start hunting around for sharp objects, Bjork fans would open a can of tofu, the three Yo La Tengo fans in the world would not be present, and the Spiritualized fans would do us all a favor and start taking the Radiohead zealots out.)
Take, for prime example, the third track of today's loved album (1999's 'Keep It Like A Secret'), entitled "Carry the Zero". Over six minutes the band lays down a solid tune, with good drive and a catchy enough melody. What is not as immediately apparent, and is characteristic of BtS, are the additional melodies being layered and dubbed through subsequent guitars throughout the piece. Each, in its own right, is subtle, and carefully weaved into the mix. By the climax of the song however, they all come together to achieve one of the most cathartic endings in rock and roll history. Most listeners dipping into the band for the first time would hear the tune for a minute or two, get a grasp of their sound, and then most likely notice the track length and skip, completely missing out on the whole grandeur that constitutes the genius of Doug Martsch.
A similar moment of quintessential musical bliss occurs in the introducing build-up of the song "Time Trap". The track begins with a cleanly fingered bass line, thick enough to nearly be palpable, before being saturated by a wash of distortion buzzing comfortably just over top. Out of the drone, the mesh of interlocking lines and melodies start to weave themselves together, ultimately achieving a soaring apex. From the heights however, on a beat it is all succinctly stripped back to a single snappy guitar, allowing the vocal melody to take over. In this way, the music of BtS often comes across as more of a composition rather than a traditional song. And the group does pay a toll for this. I rarely find myself humming a BtS tune, as even the poppiest of their work simply does not lend itself to casual listening. This said however, their music typically adheres too closely to conventional song structure, and is too reliant on vocals to toss the band off as more post rockers. BtS undeniably are a unique and treasured addition to the pantheon of American rock.
In the BtS catalog, 1994's 'There's Nothing Wrong With Love', and the aforementioned 'Perfect From Now On' and 'Keep It Like A Secret' are generally considered great works. Of the three, 'PFNO's eight lengthy tracks embody the spirit of the compositional nature of BtS's arrangements, while the slightly more ramshackle 'TNWWL' presents us with the closest thing to a pop based album the band has ever done (which, frankly, is not that close). On 'KILAS', recorded after both of these records, the band truly marries each of these musical components to perfection. Oftentimes even, within the scope of a single song ("The Plan", "Time Trap", "Temporarily Blind"). You still have your sweeping epics ("Broken Chairs") and your two minute pop ("Center Of The Universe"). To be found nowhere else in the BtS catalog is a track that approaches the gentle beauty of "Else". 'KILAS' is virtually an essay on balance, a tutorial on how to make an accessible record laced with genius.
As said however, it is not a genius that jumps out to greet you. It must be approached patiently and openly, and given the time and attention needed in order to let it's majesty unfold. If you can't understand why Doug Martsch's name is always in the conversation of great indie guitarists, its not because of sprawling and obvious solos. Rather, its because of what he does when most aren't listening, and the dividends that his work pays to those who are. It's not an easy secret to share, so most follow step and just keep on keeping it. Cats out of the bag now Doug.
Best Tracks: "Carry The Zero", "Time Trap", "You Were Right"
Monday, July 6, 2009
Live Review: The Copy Cat Theatre, 7/5/09, Baltimore MD
Huh? The Copy Cat Theatre in Baltimore? I had never heard of it either, and yet there it was, listed as the venue for a July 5th show on Madeline's web page. Further reading revealed a street address and apartment number; things were getting intriguing. Web searches yielded no more information as to what to expect, but according Google Earth there was parking. That pretty much sealed the deal. Nothing left to do now but hop in the car and drive to Baltimore.
My sister and I showed up just after 8, when the show was slated to begin, and after a moment spent figuring out the numbering system of the building found ourselves walking into the said loft, aka the Copy Cat Theatre. And wow. I wasn't quite sure what exactly I expected, but it wasn't this. To my left was a wall draped with hanging psychedelic murals, to the front a small but picturesque homemade stage, and to the rear a double row of rag-tag (but quite comfortable) couches, probably amassed out of grandmother's attics and Craig's list giveaways over the years. To the left and behind the stage was an obvious living space, tastefully shielded by curtains. The floors were covered with an assortment of thick rugs, which coupled with the playful art on the walls and natural lighting gave the loft a comforting warmth. We were met with smiles by a few of the proprietors (made up mainly of Baltimore art and music students) who, after expressing some amount of shock that anyone they didn't personally know had found their way to the show, described to us how they built the stage to then see if they could start bringing in acts. The first ever was roughly a week before and featured some sort of seven man circus (apparently they had a trapeze set up in the loft. How did I miss this?). This nights festivities were to feature two residents of the building (Lindsay and Sianna Plavin), Madeline, and the Ginger Envelope who tours with her out of Athens, GA. A PA mix-up delayed the start of the show until roughly 9:30, attendants slowly trickling in all the while. Time was comfortably passed, by some with tarot card readings and games of chess, by me simply through happily drinking in the atmosphere of it all.
The first to hit the small stage was Lindsay. By now roughly 20 to 25 friends and fellow performers had gathered, sitting on couches and sprawled on rugs, to listen. Her four song set was characterized by the deeply resonating reverb of her Danelectro guitar playing off the tones of her similarly deep and soulful voice (think Chan Marshall without the theatrics). The highlight of the set was a slowed down version of the Beatles "All My Loving", which allowed the songstress to show off a comfortable high register as well. Two originals were also played, the first a ukulele driven folksy gaunt which, propelled by some hand held percussion showed vision. The second was a playful spoken word collaboration. Amateur musicians should not be this talented, a little rehearsal could see Lindsay developing into a true performer.
The Ginger Envelope came on next with their indie tinged brand of alt-country. I was amazed by the quality of the mix the six man outfit got out of this set-up, a truly professional touring band. The vocals of the singer recalled Elf Power, and tended to be the focus as the group never tried to stretch it out for any instrumental heroics. This was appropriate for the ambiance of the venue however, and the 7-8 song set played out to be a huge success.
Sianna Plavin came on next, and was obviously who most of the 35 or so attendants had come to support. She, like Lindsay, filled the role of lone singer songstress, with an acoustic set of four songs about home. The music was warm and poignant. Plavin as a songwriter never makes the mistake of forgetting framework within her music. Any of her songs could have easily gotten lost in the depth of her voice, but her rhythmic guitar backing and hooky folk melodies made for compositionally very sound, and expertly performed music.
Unfortunately, the end of Plavin's set saw roughly half the audience head out before Madeline and her band came on. A part of me worried that playing a set to roughly 15 listeners for meager donations would result in a performance less than up to par. To my delight however Madeline took the stage with humility; expressing her thanks for being able to play, and her similar awe at the unique and cozy little theatre. What followed were 9-10 songs, mainly from 'White Flag' but with some 'Slow Bang' and new selections as well, played by a four piece outfit. I was surprised to not see the pedal steel or keyboard from Ginger Envelope reemerge, but it turned out that the set Madeline played was a much more muscular rather than folksy interpretation of the music. Songs like "1982" became full on rock songs, while others like "Dirty South" were treated with the strong delivery they deserve. "Lit Elephants" may have been the highlight of the night, played with the most restraint of any number in the set and featuring a pitch perfect harmony. Madeline's voice was as strong and unapologetic as ever right from the opening number, and closed the set similarly so on the anthemic "Good Houses". The singer was nice enough to exchange a few words with me after the set about some of the new songs and the upcoming record, and even sent me home with a little book of chords to many of her songs.
As all good things must come to an end, so did our roughly four hour stay at the cozy Copy Cat Theatre. It certainly doesn't get any closer to having the artist in your living room than this; I literally sat on a couch and watched four amazingly talented acts play and sing 15 feet in front of me. You dream about it; these Baltimore art students are living it. (Note to self: make artistic friends.) I don't know about you, but it definitely makes me feel a little better about the world knowing that people like this are out there.
My sister and I showed up just after 8, when the show was slated to begin, and after a moment spent figuring out the numbering system of the building found ourselves walking into the said loft, aka the Copy Cat Theatre. And wow. I wasn't quite sure what exactly I expected, but it wasn't this. To my left was a wall draped with hanging psychedelic murals, to the front a small but picturesque homemade stage, and to the rear a double row of rag-tag (but quite comfortable) couches, probably amassed out of grandmother's attics and Craig's list giveaways over the years. To the left and behind the stage was an obvious living space, tastefully shielded by curtains. The floors were covered with an assortment of thick rugs, which coupled with the playful art on the walls and natural lighting gave the loft a comforting warmth. We were met with smiles by a few of the proprietors (made up mainly of Baltimore art and music students) who, after expressing some amount of shock that anyone they didn't personally know had found their way to the show, described to us how they built the stage to then see if they could start bringing in acts. The first ever was roughly a week before and featured some sort of seven man circus (apparently they had a trapeze set up in the loft. How did I miss this?). This nights festivities were to feature two residents of the building (Lindsay and Sianna Plavin), Madeline, and the Ginger Envelope who tours with her out of Athens, GA. A PA mix-up delayed the start of the show until roughly 9:30, attendants slowly trickling in all the while. Time was comfortably passed, by some with tarot card readings and games of chess, by me simply through happily drinking in the atmosphere of it all.
The first to hit the small stage was Lindsay. By now roughly 20 to 25 friends and fellow performers had gathered, sitting on couches and sprawled on rugs, to listen. Her four song set was characterized by the deeply resonating reverb of her Danelectro guitar playing off the tones of her similarly deep and soulful voice (think Chan Marshall without the theatrics). The highlight of the set was a slowed down version of the Beatles "All My Loving", which allowed the songstress to show off a comfortable high register as well. Two originals were also played, the first a ukulele driven folksy gaunt which, propelled by some hand held percussion showed vision. The second was a playful spoken word collaboration. Amateur musicians should not be this talented, a little rehearsal could see Lindsay developing into a true performer.
The Ginger Envelope came on next with their indie tinged brand of alt-country. I was amazed by the quality of the mix the six man outfit got out of this set-up, a truly professional touring band. The vocals of the singer recalled Elf Power, and tended to be the focus as the group never tried to stretch it out for any instrumental heroics. This was appropriate for the ambiance of the venue however, and the 7-8 song set played out to be a huge success.
Sianna Plavin came on next, and was obviously who most of the 35 or so attendants had come to support. She, like Lindsay, filled the role of lone singer songstress, with an acoustic set of four songs about home. The music was warm and poignant. Plavin as a songwriter never makes the mistake of forgetting framework within her music. Any of her songs could have easily gotten lost in the depth of her voice, but her rhythmic guitar backing and hooky folk melodies made for compositionally very sound, and expertly performed music.
Unfortunately, the end of Plavin's set saw roughly half the audience head out before Madeline and her band came on. A part of me worried that playing a set to roughly 15 listeners for meager donations would result in a performance less than up to par. To my delight however Madeline took the stage with humility; expressing her thanks for being able to play, and her similar awe at the unique and cozy little theatre. What followed were 9-10 songs, mainly from 'White Flag' but with some 'Slow Bang' and new selections as well, played by a four piece outfit. I was surprised to not see the pedal steel or keyboard from Ginger Envelope reemerge, but it turned out that the set Madeline played was a much more muscular rather than folksy interpretation of the music. Songs like "1982" became full on rock songs, while others like "Dirty South" were treated with the strong delivery they deserve. "Lit Elephants" may have been the highlight of the night, played with the most restraint of any number in the set and featuring a pitch perfect harmony. Madeline's voice was as strong and unapologetic as ever right from the opening number, and closed the set similarly so on the anthemic "Good Houses". The singer was nice enough to exchange a few words with me after the set about some of the new songs and the upcoming record, and even sent me home with a little book of chords to many of her songs.
As all good things must come to an end, so did our roughly four hour stay at the cozy Copy Cat Theatre. It certainly doesn't get any closer to having the artist in your living room than this; I literally sat on a couch and watched four amazingly talented acts play and sing 15 feet in front of me. You dream about it; these Baltimore art students are living it. (Note to self: make artistic friends.) I don't know about you, but it definitely makes me feel a little better about the world knowing that people like this are out there.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Wilco (the Blog Post)
"Wilco the T-shirt. Wilco the lunchbox. Wilco the coloring book. Wilco... the flamethrower! Kids love it!" Altered Spaceballs quotes aside, yes, I'm being overly harsh here. Which is why I'm going to begin this post with a disclaimer: You can no longer believe anything anyone writes about Wilco ever again. Including me. They have touched too many fans in too many varying ways to take any sole person's opinion as an even remotely encompassing vision of the group. That being said, this is exactly what I am going to try to do. Take it with a grain of salt.
Wilco has indisputably become one of the most polarizing bands of the day. Throughout their large back catalogue they have roped in an enormous and fairly diverse fan base (right across the board from alt country rockers to your indie hipsters). Through putting on a great live show, fighting against the Warner/Reprise major label and winning, and putting out consistently great albums, this developed into a fiercely devoted fan base as well. If you didn't spot the title of this blog, now you know. With the release of 'Sky Blue Sky' in 2007 however they started doing some things to alienate portions of that fan base. Among these being making a record laced with the kind of songs your apt to hear playing in the produce aisle at your local grocery store, and selling half of the record off for Volkswagen commercials. This said, though a diversion from the two previous Wilco releases ('A Ghost Is Born' and 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot'), 'Sky Blue Sky' was a pretty strong album with some trademark Wilco moments. Two years later with the release of 'Wilco (the Album)', those who were shaken at 'SBS' have jumped ship altogether, and a much larger contingent are similarly dissatisfied. Meanwhile, brand new fans flock to the record and many simply take no issue. These are the facts; lets take a look at why.
Wilco's musical progression can most easily be broken down into three periods: the beginning alt-country period, the middle experimental period, and the current adult alternative period. The alt-country phase was a natural progression after the breakup of Uncle Tupelo, and consisted of 1995's fairly forgettable 'AM', 1996's breakout 'Being There', and 1999's excellent 'Summerteeth'. The experimental phase followed with 2002's monumental 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot' and its 2004 follow-up 'A Ghost Is Born'. Leaving the adult alternative period to naturally encompass 2007's aforementioned 'Sky Blue Sky' and the most recent 'Wilco (the Album)'. And before all of you excessively thorough enthusiasts start squirming in your seats, yes, the Mermaid Avenue collaborations fall within the alt-country period.
The three periods are very distinct in chronology and in the sound characterized within them. However, this is not to say there are not overlaps. We got our first glimpse into Jeff Tweedy's experimental future on 'Being There's somewhat out of place opener, "Misunderstood". 'Summerteeth' also proved a natural stair step into the experimental phase with hints to such being dropped on tracks like "A Shot In The Arm" and "In a Future Age". Likewise, within the experimental phase the band often hearkened back to its alt-country roots, most notably on 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot's "I'm The Man Who Loves You" and within 'A Ghost Is Born' on tracks like "Hummingbird" and "The Late Greats". As much as I would like to point straight to the music as the source of the contempt Wilco has been generating with its adult alternative phase, these parallels we've been describing remain present; making these very distant dots difficult to to connect. For instance, the musical shift between 'AGIB' and 'SBS' can most easily be characterized by a return to a more conventional and roots based sound, which we all loved when it was being created back in the 90's (come on, I know you still shuffle "Forget the Flowers" regularly). Only the sound was not quite this simple anymore, as stronger elements of the experimental side of Wilco still lingered (the guitar breakdown in "Impossible Germany" and "Side With The Seeds"). Songs like "Walken" and "Hate It Here", while arduous in nature, are no larger of missteps than "Monday" off 'Being There'. For these reasons I think its only fair to meet the group halfway and acknowledge 'SBS' as just an applaudable effort as any of their releases from the alt-country period. To do the same for the newest release is not quite as easy, namely because the interesting experimental flair is largely absent (with exception of the questionable "Bull Black Nova"). This leaves an even dryer set of songs, but the fact is that they aren't terrible songs. The hordes of new Wilco fans being brought in can attest to that. "I'll Fight", "You Never Know", and Feist duet "You And I" stand with Wilco's best. Still, after fourteen years a bland, not bad, album should obviously not inspire such mutiny. So what exactly is it that with this release is leaving that bad taste in your mouth?
(Sidenote: Seriously Feist? You little concubine of indie rock you. How many collaborations can one person seriously do? Should we even try to count? Even if you set aside all the groups she is or was "in" (lets see, By Divine Right, Peaches, Broken Social Scene, Apostle of Hustle...) there are still almost too many to count. Off the top of my head, what've we got; Grizzly Bear, Kings of Convenience, Ben Gibbard, Chilly Gonzales, Mocky, Jane Birkin, Arthur H., The World Provider, Rubies, Jason Collet, I know I'm missing some, and now Wilco? Didn't you ever learn to say "no"? Is there no filter? What would your mother say? Point being, there was a time when it was cool to feature Feist on a track, but now it's about the most cliche ply for indie street cred you can hack.)
Back to bad taste. If anything Wilco related can cause it, it's Jay Bennett's death. Three weeks into a lawsuit against the group, and roughly four before the new release, one of the driving creative forces behind 'YHF' passed away due to overdose on pain pills. Now lets pretend you've never seen the "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" documentary or read extensively about the the state of the band during the 'YHF' era. To the casual fan, here is the picture I see. Jeff Tweedy plays music for fifteen years to moderate success before recording his masterpiece, 'YHF'. A masterpiece that is largely in debt to the contributions of 8 year band member Jay Bennett. Bennett is dismissed under tension, and the lawsuit would suggest was not treated altogether fairly by the band. So here we are, with Jay Bennett at an all time low, popping pills and in debt, being treated poorly by the band he helped propell to wild success. Not only do his former band mates allow him to wallow, but on the eve of his death they release "Wilco (the Song)", which firmly pronounces that this, this sound, this line-up, is the definitive Wilco. Hardly showing respect to Bennett and his contributions. Not only that, but a rich and smiling Jeff Tweedy sings "Do you dabble in depression? Is someone twisting a knife in your back? Are you being attacked? Wilco will love you Baby." I'd say Bennett was dabbling in depression, did Wilco love him? I'm sure that I'm missing out on large parts of this picture, but you can see the hypocrisy that is beginning to emerge. When viewed in this light the glib tone of the song is almost disgusting to say the least.
Even when viewed separately from Bennett's death the tone is off putting to say the least. Of our three aforementioned periods, different Wilco fans are more or less attracted to one or another of these creative phases. To definitively say that this line-up and sound is Wilco, as "Wilco (the Song) and even 'Wilco (the Album)' seems to, is obviously inflammatory to those who are deeply attached to 'YHF', or those who yearn for more summery pop of 'Summerteeth' or truer country roots of 'Being There'. All of these fans are throwing there hands in the air saying, "Huh?" Personally, if Wilco were "loving me baby", they would mine more territory in the vein of 'AGIB'. It's almost as if Zeppelin were to come out announcing 'Physical Graffiti' as their definitive work. It was a good album, but I'd like to see the Zoso lovers react to it.
I would assume that most would jump to commercialization as the new off-putting factor, and while for some this may have an effect, I doubt it is so simple. Commercials have been a more effective outlet for indie bands to find an audience than radio certainly has been, and Wilco didn't debut on Billboard charts at anywhere near heights of Grizzly Bear (who everyone is currently harboring fuzzy feelings for). As stated before, musically there are plenty of parallels from former Wilco. The name Wilco must be derived from the military radio pro-word, meaning will comply. Maybe the album and song were just an effort to play off of this association, but it comes off as smug. And in the wake of the death of Jay Bennett, it comes off as hypocritical to say the least. Either way, there are undeniably bad feelings being created here, and even if some would like to claim so, they do not originate with the music. One thing is for sure, as usual, everyone will have eyes peeled for what Tweedy and crew do next.
Wilco has indisputably become one of the most polarizing bands of the day. Throughout their large back catalogue they have roped in an enormous and fairly diverse fan base (right across the board from alt country rockers to your indie hipsters). Through putting on a great live show, fighting against the Warner/Reprise major label and winning, and putting out consistently great albums, this developed into a fiercely devoted fan base as well. If you didn't spot the title of this blog, now you know. With the release of 'Sky Blue Sky' in 2007 however they started doing some things to alienate portions of that fan base. Among these being making a record laced with the kind of songs your apt to hear playing in the produce aisle at your local grocery store, and selling half of the record off for Volkswagen commercials. This said, though a diversion from the two previous Wilco releases ('A Ghost Is Born' and 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot'), 'Sky Blue Sky' was a pretty strong album with some trademark Wilco moments. Two years later with the release of 'Wilco (the Album)', those who were shaken at 'SBS' have jumped ship altogether, and a much larger contingent are similarly dissatisfied. Meanwhile, brand new fans flock to the record and many simply take no issue. These are the facts; lets take a look at why.
Wilco's musical progression can most easily be broken down into three periods: the beginning alt-country period, the middle experimental period, and the current adult alternative period. The alt-country phase was a natural progression after the breakup of Uncle Tupelo, and consisted of 1995's fairly forgettable 'AM', 1996's breakout 'Being There', and 1999's excellent 'Summerteeth'. The experimental phase followed with 2002's monumental 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot' and its 2004 follow-up 'A Ghost Is Born'. Leaving the adult alternative period to naturally encompass 2007's aforementioned 'Sky Blue Sky' and the most recent 'Wilco (the Album)'. And before all of you excessively thorough enthusiasts start squirming in your seats, yes, the Mermaid Avenue collaborations fall within the alt-country period.
The three periods are very distinct in chronology and in the sound characterized within them. However, this is not to say there are not overlaps. We got our first glimpse into Jeff Tweedy's experimental future on 'Being There's somewhat out of place opener, "Misunderstood". 'Summerteeth' also proved a natural stair step into the experimental phase with hints to such being dropped on tracks like "A Shot In The Arm" and "In a Future Age". Likewise, within the experimental phase the band often hearkened back to its alt-country roots, most notably on 'Yankee Hotel Foxtrot's "I'm The Man Who Loves You" and within 'A Ghost Is Born' on tracks like "Hummingbird" and "The Late Greats". As much as I would like to point straight to the music as the source of the contempt Wilco has been generating with its adult alternative phase, these parallels we've been describing remain present; making these very distant dots difficult to to connect. For instance, the musical shift between 'AGIB' and 'SBS' can most easily be characterized by a return to a more conventional and roots based sound, which we all loved when it was being created back in the 90's (come on, I know you still shuffle "Forget the Flowers" regularly). Only the sound was not quite this simple anymore, as stronger elements of the experimental side of Wilco still lingered (the guitar breakdown in "Impossible Germany" and "Side With The Seeds"). Songs like "Walken" and "Hate It Here", while arduous in nature, are no larger of missteps than "Monday" off 'Being There'. For these reasons I think its only fair to meet the group halfway and acknowledge 'SBS' as just an applaudable effort as any of their releases from the alt-country period. To do the same for the newest release is not quite as easy, namely because the interesting experimental flair is largely absent (with exception of the questionable "Bull Black Nova"). This leaves an even dryer set of songs, but the fact is that they aren't terrible songs. The hordes of new Wilco fans being brought in can attest to that. "I'll Fight", "You Never Know", and Feist duet "You And I" stand with Wilco's best. Still, after fourteen years a bland, not bad, album should obviously not inspire such mutiny. So what exactly is it that with this release is leaving that bad taste in your mouth?
(Sidenote: Seriously Feist? You little concubine of indie rock you. How many collaborations can one person seriously do? Should we even try to count? Even if you set aside all the groups she is or was "in" (lets see, By Divine Right, Peaches, Broken Social Scene, Apostle of Hustle...) there are still almost too many to count. Off the top of my head, what've we got; Grizzly Bear, Kings of Convenience, Ben Gibbard, Chilly Gonzales, Mocky, Jane Birkin, Arthur H., The World Provider, Rubies, Jason Collet, I know I'm missing some, and now Wilco? Didn't you ever learn to say "no"? Is there no filter? What would your mother say? Point being, there was a time when it was cool to feature Feist on a track, but now it's about the most cliche ply for indie street cred you can hack.)
Back to bad taste. If anything Wilco related can cause it, it's Jay Bennett's death. Three weeks into a lawsuit against the group, and roughly four before the new release, one of the driving creative forces behind 'YHF' passed away due to overdose on pain pills. Now lets pretend you've never seen the "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" documentary or read extensively about the the state of the band during the 'YHF' era. To the casual fan, here is the picture I see. Jeff Tweedy plays music for fifteen years to moderate success before recording his masterpiece, 'YHF'. A masterpiece that is largely in debt to the contributions of 8 year band member Jay Bennett. Bennett is dismissed under tension, and the lawsuit would suggest was not treated altogether fairly by the band. So here we are, with Jay Bennett at an all time low, popping pills and in debt, being treated poorly by the band he helped propell to wild success. Not only do his former band mates allow him to wallow, but on the eve of his death they release "Wilco (the Song)", which firmly pronounces that this, this sound, this line-up, is the definitive Wilco. Hardly showing respect to Bennett and his contributions. Not only that, but a rich and smiling Jeff Tweedy sings "Do you dabble in depression? Is someone twisting a knife in your back? Are you being attacked? Wilco will love you Baby." I'd say Bennett was dabbling in depression, did Wilco love him? I'm sure that I'm missing out on large parts of this picture, but you can see the hypocrisy that is beginning to emerge. When viewed in this light the glib tone of the song is almost disgusting to say the least.
Even when viewed separately from Bennett's death the tone is off putting to say the least. Of our three aforementioned periods, different Wilco fans are more or less attracted to one or another of these creative phases. To definitively say that this line-up and sound is Wilco, as "Wilco (the Song) and even 'Wilco (the Album)' seems to, is obviously inflammatory to those who are deeply attached to 'YHF', or those who yearn for more summery pop of 'Summerteeth' or truer country roots of 'Being There'. All of these fans are throwing there hands in the air saying, "Huh?" Personally, if Wilco were "loving me baby", they would mine more territory in the vein of 'AGIB'. It's almost as if Zeppelin were to come out announcing 'Physical Graffiti' as their definitive work. It was a good album, but I'd like to see the Zoso lovers react to it.
I would assume that most would jump to commercialization as the new off-putting factor, and while for some this may have an effect, I doubt it is so simple. Commercials have been a more effective outlet for indie bands to find an audience than radio certainly has been, and Wilco didn't debut on Billboard charts at anywhere near heights of Grizzly Bear (who everyone is currently harboring fuzzy feelings for). As stated before, musically there are plenty of parallels from former Wilco. The name Wilco must be derived from the military radio pro-word, meaning will comply. Maybe the album and song were just an effort to play off of this association, but it comes off as smug. And in the wake of the death of Jay Bennett, it comes off as hypocritical to say the least. Either way, there are undeniably bad feelings being created here, and even if some would like to claim so, they do not originate with the music. One thing is for sure, as usual, everyone will have eyes peeled for what Tweedy and crew do next.
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