A couple of weeks ago, the SXSW 2010 organizers released their first 200 confirmed bands out of what will eventually grow to about 7 trillion for the festival. About three seconds after finding the link, I seem to have invited a few squirrels to live in my stomach the way it started twitching with nervous excitement. Time to bust out the spreadsheet! When do I start RSVPing for free day shows?! I need to buy a plane ticket and borrow a bike! I must have a plaaaaaannnnn!! But, yeah, that's a few months off, and I'm really hoping that even I can keep my anal retentive tendencies to over-schedule (and then eventually completely chuck all semblances of said schedule after about 4 free Southern Comfort and Pepsis at the Fader Fort) in check for at least another month or two.
In the meantime, I can at least build up some excitement for some of the far-flung bands that're already queuinig up to play for my enjoyment. One of those being the buzzworthy Danish lot, Oh No Ono.
Oh No Ono's been lounging around the Denmark music scene for several years now, and by all appearances have done rather well for themselves there, but with their recently released album at the end of this year, they are starting to generate a little hype Stateside, too. With a mix of pensive, plaintive indie finesse and an undertone of theatrical glam, it's hard to see how they could go wrong on the merit of that alone. But, on top of this, they seem to have infused their latest album with a much warmer, thicker tone. And they also have a real knack for making some WOW videos. Take, for instance, the below video for their single "Swim." The song is dreamy as hell, and the video both excites me and makes me profoundly uncomfortable. What lives in the minds of Danes, anyway?
And this one for "Icicles" is awfully pretty as well:
And for the sake of a more rockin' example:
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
12/16 - Best Coast
Hey fellas and ladies who scooped up all the copies of the Best Coast "Make You Mine" 45 before I could molest it with my grubby little Mastercard...well, thanks for nothing jerks.
My laptop, tired of just breathing through the (expensive) life support of a brand new hard drive, committed violent suicide last month and took all my music with it. So long old friends, I thought,waving goodbye, Golden Filter I will miss you most of all. I've decided to turn lemons into some wicked alcoholic limoncello and take the opportunity to spend MUCH MORE money on MUCH LESS music by almost exclusively exhausting my wallet on mail order 7" records from bands I either have written about or will one day write about right here. While I will say that waking up in the morning shuffling over to the turntable in my new onesie striped pajamas to drop the needle has been pretty nice (Baltimore's Teen Beat a Go Go album reprint, I'm totally looking at you my friend), I do miss the simplicity of my days as DJ Pressplay.
Had I a computer, for example, I might be waking up listening to Best Coast. Best Coast referring, of course, to the West Coast no matter what you Yanks may say to the contrary. Best Coast is a fairly recent product of Los Angeles - one of the many bands who've tenured in the hallowed halls of The Smell downtown (a puzzling venue for it's jankiness and all-ages utter lack of alcohol...boo!), and who will return there February 2nd as part of a tour with Brooklynites the Vivian Girls. If you like what you hear and just can't wait for that match-up, you can also catch them this Friday, December 18th at Spaceland with the excellent band Foreign Born. Best Coast is a boy girl duo - Bethany and Bob. Apparently, they met when Bob used to babysit Bethany. Being that Bob is a large Asian dude with straggly long hair, I have to smile imagining what his possible qualifications as a babysitter might have been. I give both of them an A+ as a band, though. I'm hoping that soonish we'll be seeing a full length from these up-and-comers.
Tell me this fan-made combination of "When I'm With You" and a scene from "The Young Girls of Rochefort" doesn't make you smile your cheeks off.
And here's a nice version of "The Sun Was High (So Was I)" live from a bathroom. Witness how gloriously the guitar reverberates off the bathtub filled with Budweiser!
My laptop, tired of just breathing through the (expensive) life support of a brand new hard drive, committed violent suicide last month and took all my music with it. So long old friends, I thought,waving goodbye, Golden Filter I will miss you most of all. I've decided to turn lemons into some wicked alcoholic limoncello and take the opportunity to spend MUCH MORE money on MUCH LESS music by almost exclusively exhausting my wallet on mail order 7" records from bands I either have written about or will one day write about right here. While I will say that waking up in the morning shuffling over to the turntable in my new onesie striped pajamas to drop the needle has been pretty nice (Baltimore's Teen Beat a Go Go album reprint, I'm totally looking at you my friend), I do miss the simplicity of my days as DJ Pressplay.
Had I a computer, for example, I might be waking up listening to Best Coast. Best Coast referring, of course, to the West Coast no matter what you Yanks may say to the contrary. Best Coast is a fairly recent product of Los Angeles - one of the many bands who've tenured in the hallowed halls of The Smell downtown (a puzzling venue for it's jankiness and all-ages utter lack of alcohol...boo!), and who will return there February 2nd as part of a tour with Brooklynites the Vivian Girls. If you like what you hear and just can't wait for that match-up, you can also catch them this Friday, December 18th at Spaceland with the excellent band Foreign Born. Best Coast is a boy girl duo - Bethany and Bob. Apparently, they met when Bob used to babysit Bethany. Being that Bob is a large Asian dude with straggly long hair, I have to smile imagining what his possible qualifications as a babysitter might have been. I give both of them an A+ as a band, though. I'm hoping that soonish we'll be seeing a full length from these up-and-comers.
Tell me this fan-made combination of "When I'm With You" and a scene from "The Young Girls of Rochefort" doesn't make you smile your cheeks off.
And here's a nice version of "The Sun Was High (So Was I)" live from a bathroom. Witness how gloriously the guitar reverberates off the bathtub filled with Budweiser!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
11/26 - Wolf Gang
Since I mentioned Wolf Gang's "Pieces of You" in the previous post, I have to add an entry for Wolf Gang himself. Unfortunately, the excellent Baby Monster remix has evaporated from both their and Wolf Gang's myspace players to make way for WG's new single "The King and All of His Men," which is good, but not nearly as sublime as "Pieces of You" in both original and remix forms.
Wolf Gang is most frequently compared to David Byrne in his vocal delivery, but what I really enjoy about his work is the layering of unconventional instrumental sounds under driving, catchy and memorable melodies. The almost banjo or mandolin-esque string sound that accompanies the vocal come-on to "dance to the beat now, honey, yeah!" in "Pieces of You" is exactly what makes a good pop song transcend to greatness. It's that creative instrumentation that is the cherry on top.
Here it is for your Thanksgiving pleasure:
Wolf Gang is most frequently compared to David Byrne in his vocal delivery, but what I really enjoy about his work is the layering of unconventional instrumental sounds under driving, catchy and memorable melodies. The almost banjo or mandolin-esque string sound that accompanies the vocal come-on to "dance to the beat now, honey, yeah!" in "Pieces of You" is exactly what makes a good pop song transcend to greatness. It's that creative instrumentation that is the cherry on top.
Here it is for your Thanksgiving pleasure:
11/25 - Baby Monster
I've been holding Portland, Oregon's Baby Monster in my headphones like a precious diamond for the last month - shining and shimmering brighter in my ears every time I give it light. Here is a rare example (for me) where you have a group who not only make their own popperfection, but also lend remixes to other artists and actually significantly improve those artists' original songs. To me, in a world where all electronic artists long to put their treatment to the dials on others' tracks, I find that remixes rarely pan for the gold in the heart of the originals, polish it to a radiating glow and nestle it in a display of their own making (where the point of the display is to feature that gold rather than swallow it) in the way that Baby Monster manages to do with both Ellie Goulding's precocious "Under the Sheets" and Wolf Gang's already excellent "Pieces of You."
Additionally, though, Baby Monster shines on their own original songs - as seen in spades in their recently released first single "Ultra Violence and Beethoven." It starts off like a lost MGMT anthem, but spirals off into a moody falsetto chorus (yeah, really - moody AND falsetto)that feels like a vitamin shot. In the first days of crisp Fall, it's like the last gasp of Summer.
If I sound like I'm speaking in a lot of hyperbole, that may be the case, but I see big things ahead for this group.
Now, if only so many of these groups would kindly make their singles available in the US at non-extortion import prices... You can purchase "Ultra Violence and Beethoven" in a nifty turquoise vinyl 7" from Pure Groove in London, but it'll cost you about $14 to get it from there to your record player if you live Stateside. As of yet, none of Baby Monster's remixes or originals are available via any of the conventional download sources. The one saving grace of ordering from Pure Groove, however, is that they usually limit the production of the records to a few hundred, and often (as in the case of my recent Marina & the Diamonds "Mowgli's Road" 7") they will even come signed by the band/singer. So if you're going to spend the money, you may as well spend it with a shop that cares about good music and the people who listen to it.
Additionally, though, Baby Monster shines on their own original songs - as seen in spades in their recently released first single "Ultra Violence and Beethoven." It starts off like a lost MGMT anthem, but spirals off into a moody falsetto chorus (yeah, really - moody AND falsetto)that feels like a vitamin shot. In the first days of crisp Fall, it's like the last gasp of Summer.
If I sound like I'm speaking in a lot of hyperbole, that may be the case, but I see big things ahead for this group.
Now, if only so many of these groups would kindly make their singles available in the US at non-extortion import prices... You can purchase "Ultra Violence and Beethoven" in a nifty turquoise vinyl 7" from Pure Groove in London, but it'll cost you about $14 to get it from there to your record player if you live Stateside. As of yet, none of Baby Monster's remixes or originals are available via any of the conventional download sources. The one saving grace of ordering from Pure Groove, however, is that they usually limit the production of the records to a few hundred, and often (as in the case of my recent Marina & the Diamonds "Mowgli's Road" 7") they will even come signed by the band/singer. So if you're going to spend the money, you may as well spend it with a shop that cares about good music and the people who listen to it.
Friday, November 20, 2009
11/20 - Flashback Friday: Altered Images
Since I posted a Daily Bomb on the under-the-radar band Koko Von Napoo a few months ago, their vocal similarity to Altered Images' Clare Grogan (one of the best looking Brits of 80s New Wave, see below) has gotten me to blow the dust off my old Altered Images records and incorporate them regularly into living room dance parties.
It's pretty amazing how relevant some of these tracks still sound today. The band did a nice job of straddling pop and punk - with Grogan's distinctive love-it-or-hate-it voice assuring that they would never veer too far into the disposability of the former. The group disbanded in the late 80s after a modest string of successful singles, but have recently taken the occasional 80s revival tour opportunity with the likes of ABC and the Human League. And Clare's still damn foxy.
Here's a few videos to brighten your Friday.
It's pretty amazing how relevant some of these tracks still sound today. The band did a nice job of straddling pop and punk - with Grogan's distinctive love-it-or-hate-it voice assuring that they would never veer too far into the disposability of the former. The group disbanded in the late 80s after a modest string of successful singles, but have recently taken the occasional 80s revival tour opportunity with the likes of ABC and the Human League. And Clare's still damn foxy.
Here's a few videos to brighten your Friday.
11/19 - Class Actress
I was just thinking the other day about that time in the 1980s when Neil Young started experimenting with the "modern sound," and went almost avant garde. Or when the Rolling Stones went disco on Some Girls. And a few days ago my friend John and I were talking about the time in the 90s when Garth Brooks was the biggest thing on the airwaves, and all the money in the world bought him a whole lot of Yes-Men who failed to tell him that the Chris Gaines experiment (and that really silly soul patch) was a terrible terrible idea.
So, I got to thinking about the state of music today, where crossovers seem almost par for the course. Where no one bats an eye when rockabilly legend Wanda Jackson gears up to let Jack White "push her limits" in a new studio recording. Or where former Aussie quasi-West Coast Cosmic Country janglers from the Sleepy Jackson, can crank out a record like "Walking on a Dream" as part of the peppy-electro-club Empire of the Sun.
Plucking a little here and a little there, transmogrifying guitar riffs with beeps and boops and drum loops, a la post OK Computer Radiohead, somehow does the very opposite of challenging a musician's credibility. One year, I was driving across country to LA listening to Johnny Greenwood crunch out "The Bends," and a few years later I was falling asleep to droning electronic caterwauling and the incessant hum of the masses proclaiming new gods of mere men.
Today, shit, go electro. Why not? If you're in Brooklyn and you happen to have the equipement, why you're practically an electro outfit already.
Sometimes, maybe you're even doing the right thing. Elizabeth Harper, former coffehouse singer-songwriter earnest chanteuse-type, figured the remixes of her songs sounded cooler than the originals, so she tapped the producer and formed Class Actress with him and another fella. Taking cues, she claims, from early Madonna, Depeche Mode's "Some Great Reward" era, and the Human League, she layers her voice over the aforementioned beeps, boops and loops rather pleasantly. Songs are simple samples from analogue recordings, bolstered by the push-up underwire of vintage keys, and driven home by clear, precise, and warm vocals.
With friends like the fellows in Grizzly Bear, it's hard to go wrong. February 9th will see the release of an EP called Journal of Ardency which will feature Pitchfork-approved track "All the Saints" and "Careful What You Say," both synth-funk, Andrea True Connection worthy stacatto jams.
Video below is for an earlier, track that chronicles a transitional period between the coffeehouse and the coke den.
http://www.myspace.com/elizabethharper
So, I got to thinking about the state of music today, where crossovers seem almost par for the course. Where no one bats an eye when rockabilly legend Wanda Jackson gears up to let Jack White "push her limits" in a new studio recording. Or where former Aussie quasi-West Coast Cosmic Country janglers from the Sleepy Jackson, can crank out a record like "Walking on a Dream" as part of the peppy-electro-club Empire of the Sun.
Plucking a little here and a little there, transmogrifying guitar riffs with beeps and boops and drum loops, a la post OK Computer Radiohead, somehow does the very opposite of challenging a musician's credibility. One year, I was driving across country to LA listening to Johnny Greenwood crunch out "The Bends," and a few years later I was falling asleep to droning electronic caterwauling and the incessant hum of the masses proclaiming new gods of mere men.
Today, shit, go electro. Why not? If you're in Brooklyn and you happen to have the equipement, why you're practically an electro outfit already.
Sometimes, maybe you're even doing the right thing. Elizabeth Harper, former coffehouse singer-songwriter earnest chanteuse-type, figured the remixes of her songs sounded cooler than the originals, so she tapped the producer and formed Class Actress with him and another fella. Taking cues, she claims, from early Madonna, Depeche Mode's "Some Great Reward" era, and the Human League, she layers her voice over the aforementioned beeps, boops and loops rather pleasantly. Songs are simple samples from analogue recordings, bolstered by the push-up underwire of vintage keys, and driven home by clear, precise, and warm vocals.
With friends like the fellows in Grizzly Bear, it's hard to go wrong. February 9th will see the release of an EP called Journal of Ardency which will feature Pitchfork-approved track "All the Saints" and "Careful What You Say," both synth-funk, Andrea True Connection worthy stacatto jams.
Video below is for an earlier, track that chronicles a transitional period between the coffeehouse and the coke den.
http://www.myspace.com/elizabethharper
Thursday, November 12, 2009
11/12 - Cold Cave
What has two thumbs and the worst audio memory ever? This guy! There are downsides to this, to be sure. For instance, I could never ever ever in a million years hope to be a competitor on "Name that Tune!" - even if I found the time machine that would take me back far enough to make that even a remote possibility. And, karaoke in my world is Japanese for "Holy Shit I Totally Don't Remember How This Song Goes!" But, it has its upside as well. It means that sometimes I get to hear songs for the first time at least 10 times before they'll stick. Think about that for a second. Imagine one of your very favorite songs, and think about what it would feel like to hear it for the first time all over again. What a great feeling! In that sense, audio amnesia can be pretty sweet.
Cold Cave has been the victim of my aural void for a while now. Some time ago, I read something somewhere about them, listened to them and bought some downloads. Then I put one on a mix, and every single time it comes up I say to myself (or to someone next to me), "Who is this? I like it!" Same answer every time - Cold Cave. Song: Life Magazine. And it rules. This week I heard it on a commercial and thought, "shit." But at least it reminded me to remind myself who sang it.
Cold Cave is from Philly, which is really not a place I would normally associate with frosty stygian soundscapes. Philly always seemed a little beefier to me. But Cold Cave has crossed to the West Coast pretty strongly given that the new hipster record store down the street from me had their new 12" displayed front and center with the kind of loving care usually reserved for the likes of Grizzly Bear. And in a startling turn of events, I can say that Cold Cave is the first band I've heard since the Knife whose name is the perfect description of their music.
They've been around for a while, but the herky-jerky electro fuzz of their earlier efforts has seen a very satisfying evolution in the new work. It's turned dark, stark and lush in only the best ways.
Cold Cave has been the victim of my aural void for a while now. Some time ago, I read something somewhere about them, listened to them and bought some downloads. Then I put one on a mix, and every single time it comes up I say to myself (or to someone next to me), "Who is this? I like it!" Same answer every time - Cold Cave. Song: Life Magazine. And it rules. This week I heard it on a commercial and thought, "shit." But at least it reminded me to remind myself who sang it.
Cold Cave is from Philly, which is really not a place I would normally associate with frosty stygian soundscapes. Philly always seemed a little beefier to me. But Cold Cave has crossed to the West Coast pretty strongly given that the new hipster record store down the street from me had their new 12" displayed front and center with the kind of loving care usually reserved for the likes of Grizzly Bear. And in a startling turn of events, I can say that Cold Cave is the first band I've heard since the Knife whose name is the perfect description of their music.
They've been around for a while, but the herky-jerky electro fuzz of their earlier efforts has seen a very satisfying evolution in the new work. It's turned dark, stark and lush in only the best ways.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
11/4 - Pyramiddd
Disclaimer: This band used to be called Starfucker. Starfucker is a terrible name for a band, but the music was still good - in the way that it didn't sound anything like music that would be played by a band named Starfucker.
Lately, it may seem that I'm revealing a little snarky salt for these bands that I'm also declaring worth your while. For that I blame an excess of data entry and all those annoying little ghost spots that are floating in my vision lately. It makes me cranky. Or, it could be that, frankly, I'm not really finding a shit ton of terrific bands out there lately, short of older bands that I'm just coming around to, or recent bands that I've Daily Bombed, but haven't had much chance to really dive into headfirst and swim around in. So, when a band like Pyramiddd comes around, it is with a sigh of relief that something comes floating out of the Lady Gaga-tization of my beloved electro, and the Wavvves-itis of all these suddenly hot "bedroom minimalists" out there. I'm bored with that stuff. Bring me something with life, with virtuosity, that I can dance to without being so ashamed that I want to kill myself afterward, or that I can at least listen to while I read without thinking that the connection has gone all fuzzy and crappy on my stereo because my cat ate the speaker cords...again.
Pyramiddd's got a mellow electronic vibe to it, without sounding too drippy or too lo-fi. It's easy on the ears. Maybe not something you'll remember in a few years, but definitely something that'll get you through a few minutes of this bleak musical winter. But, if I sound a little hesitant to give a fully glowing review, it's really just because they made a really cruddy video that embarrasses me. There seem to be an inordinant amount of douchebags dancing around on bad quality video. Why would you do that to an otherwise decent song? Advice: Try to listen with your eyes closed, and ignore the philosophical pretentious junk at the end. Skip the end of "Medicine" and revel, instead, in the really really nice second offering of "Rawnald Gregory Erickson the Second."
Lately, it may seem that I'm revealing a little snarky salt for these bands that I'm also declaring worth your while. For that I blame an excess of data entry and all those annoying little ghost spots that are floating in my vision lately. It makes me cranky. Or, it could be that, frankly, I'm not really finding a shit ton of terrific bands out there lately, short of older bands that I'm just coming around to, or recent bands that I've Daily Bombed, but haven't had much chance to really dive into headfirst and swim around in. So, when a band like Pyramiddd comes around, it is with a sigh of relief that something comes floating out of the Lady Gaga-tization of my beloved electro, and the Wavvves-itis of all these suddenly hot "bedroom minimalists" out there. I'm bored with that stuff. Bring me something with life, with virtuosity, that I can dance to without being so ashamed that I want to kill myself afterward, or that I can at least listen to while I read without thinking that the connection has gone all fuzzy and crappy on my stereo because my cat ate the speaker cords...again.
Pyramiddd's got a mellow electronic vibe to it, without sounding too drippy or too lo-fi. It's easy on the ears. Maybe not something you'll remember in a few years, but definitely something that'll get you through a few minutes of this bleak musical winter. But, if I sound a little hesitant to give a fully glowing review, it's really just because they made a really cruddy video that embarrasses me. There seem to be an inordinant amount of douchebags dancing around on bad quality video. Why would you do that to an otherwise decent song? Advice: Try to listen with your eyes closed, and ignore the philosophical pretentious junk at the end. Skip the end of "Medicine" and revel, instead, in the really really nice second offering of "Rawnald Gregory Erickson the Second."
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
11/3 - jj
Here's a tip for all you young bands out there: Please name yourself something that is easy to search on Google. Go on, jj, try just typing "jj" in a Google search and see how fucking hard it is to find your band. Also, here's a second tip: don't be so damn mysterious. It's totally okay to tell people who is actually in your band. We probably haven't ever heard of you anyway. And given that fact, chances are that if you don't tell us WHO THE H-E-Double Hockey Sticks you are now, we never will.
That said, I suppose it merits mention that I found the musical output of said band called "jj" to be sufficiently intriguing to actually do the necessary legwork to find out, well, basically nothing about them whatsoever except for the fact that they seem to be another happy offering of the population of Gothenburg, Sweden - a place my disembodied spirit will one day go when I die, because I'm sure it must be heaven itself.
So, really, I've got nothing for you here but some non-videos of some nice songs. I kind of dig the floatiness (sure, that's a technical term right?) of the music, and the lush hint of a St. Etienne distant memory in the vocals. Like Sarah Cracknell is singing to you through some cups attached by a string. Soft as a cloud.
That said, I suppose it merits mention that I found the musical output of said band called "jj" to be sufficiently intriguing to actually do the necessary legwork to find out, well, basically nothing about them whatsoever except for the fact that they seem to be another happy offering of the population of Gothenburg, Sweden - a place my disembodied spirit will one day go when I die, because I'm sure it must be heaven itself.
So, really, I've got nothing for you here but some non-videos of some nice songs. I kind of dig the floatiness (sure, that's a technical term right?) of the music, and the lush hint of a St. Etienne distant memory in the vocals. Like Sarah Cracknell is singing to you through some cups attached by a string. Soft as a cloud.
Friday, October 23, 2009
10/23: Music Go Music and ELO
I just kind of want to call this entry OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod!!
Because it is technically flashback friday, I'll take a moment to expound upon my vast and limitless love for the Electric Light Orchestra, before I get to the glint of newly discovered love in my eye today for Music Go Music.
I've often put needle to an ELO record and had a solo dance party that involves a lot of unflattering arm flailing and skipping around, making me feel like a five year old the first time they hear the Hokey Pokey. And in those moments, I ask myself, "Why in the hell aren't there any modern bands that sound like ELO?!?" Or I should say that I scream that question to the sky, shaking my fist at the Heavens and reprimand any and all Gods that reside up there for giving us so much music that sounds like Mariah Carey and so little that sounds like it came from the gloriously convoluted brain of one Jeff Lynne.
I mean just take the simple categorization of the music on their Wiki page: Rock, Progressive Rock, Pop Rock, Symphonic Rock, Cello Rock.
I'm sorry? Cello rock? I guess it must have been big in Bulgaria.
But there you have it - ELO, music's glorious blender. And what a smoothie it created!!
Just feast your eyes on this:
Did you hear that keyboard saying "ba boo biddy be boo boo?" With all these synth acts out there, you've gotta wonder how a 100 million album-selling "mainstream" act like ELO can trump them in weirdness.
Let's just summarize by saying that there is not a possibility on earth that I can listen to more than one minute of an ELO song without being instantly transported to a great mood.
And speaking of good moods (and awkward segues), today's quite a pretty day here in LA. It's 75 degrees and sunny, and hell, it's Friday, so there's not much to complain about in the world. Well, not in mine at least.
And today is the day that my prayers to the musically vengeful gods have been answered. The answer to those prayers is Music Go Music. Hyperbolic much? Actually no. If you were watching my face when I first heard this band, you probably would have seen me the way I got the first time I heard Olivia Newton-John's "Have You Never Been Mellow" after 15 years of radio silence. That is to say - big smile, hidden with my hands giggling Japanese Schoolgirl style, and a little moisture in my eyes.
Oh yes. This is it. Dripping with strings, beats like a rubber ball, and vocals as earnest as ABBA and plaintive as Blondie. It would be disco if it wasn't so...undefinable. It's huge, shamelessly happy, dramatic...ELO-esque, but unique unto itself to the point that comparing it to other bands feels slothful and lazy.
For the record: Music Go Music is an LA band. An LA band I've never seen (idiot!) nor heard of (damn it!). The singer who bills herself as "Gala Bell" is actually named Meredith, and she does double duty for another quite good LA band called Bodies of Water. Bodies of Water is kind of a nouveau-chorale folk rock act with nary a rubber ball beat in sight, but plenty of ear-grabbing guitar, which makes for an truly interesting range to straddle between the two bands. Music Go Music has their first full-length CD available now from Secretly Canadian. So go buy it and come have a dance party with me.
http://www.myspace.com/musicgomusic
Because it is technically flashback friday, I'll take a moment to expound upon my vast and limitless love for the Electric Light Orchestra, before I get to the glint of newly discovered love in my eye today for Music Go Music.
I've often put needle to an ELO record and had a solo dance party that involves a lot of unflattering arm flailing and skipping around, making me feel like a five year old the first time they hear the Hokey Pokey. And in those moments, I ask myself, "Why in the hell aren't there any modern bands that sound like ELO?!?" Or I should say that I scream that question to the sky, shaking my fist at the Heavens and reprimand any and all Gods that reside up there for giving us so much music that sounds like Mariah Carey and so little that sounds like it came from the gloriously convoluted brain of one Jeff Lynne.
I mean just take the simple categorization of the music on their Wiki page: Rock, Progressive Rock, Pop Rock, Symphonic Rock, Cello Rock.
I'm sorry? Cello rock? I guess it must have been big in Bulgaria.
But there you have it - ELO, music's glorious blender. And what a smoothie it created!!
Just feast your eyes on this:
Did you hear that keyboard saying "ba boo biddy be boo boo?" With all these synth acts out there, you've gotta wonder how a 100 million album-selling "mainstream" act like ELO can trump them in weirdness.
Let's just summarize by saying that there is not a possibility on earth that I can listen to more than one minute of an ELO song without being instantly transported to a great mood.
And speaking of good moods (and awkward segues), today's quite a pretty day here in LA. It's 75 degrees and sunny, and hell, it's Friday, so there's not much to complain about in the world. Well, not in mine at least.
And today is the day that my prayers to the musically vengeful gods have been answered. The answer to those prayers is Music Go Music. Hyperbolic much? Actually no. If you were watching my face when I first heard this band, you probably would have seen me the way I got the first time I heard Olivia Newton-John's "Have You Never Been Mellow" after 15 years of radio silence. That is to say - big smile, hidden with my hands giggling Japanese Schoolgirl style, and a little moisture in my eyes.
Oh yes. This is it. Dripping with strings, beats like a rubber ball, and vocals as earnest as ABBA and plaintive as Blondie. It would be disco if it wasn't so...undefinable. It's huge, shamelessly happy, dramatic...ELO-esque, but unique unto itself to the point that comparing it to other bands feels slothful and lazy.
For the record: Music Go Music is an LA band. An LA band I've never seen (idiot!) nor heard of (damn it!). The singer who bills herself as "Gala Bell" is actually named Meredith, and she does double duty for another quite good LA band called Bodies of Water. Bodies of Water is kind of a nouveau-chorale folk rock act with nary a rubber ball beat in sight, but plenty of ear-grabbing guitar, which makes for an truly interesting range to straddle between the two bands. Music Go Music has their first full-length CD available now from Secretly Canadian. So go buy it and come have a dance party with me.
http://www.myspace.com/musicgomusic
Thursday, October 22, 2009
10/22 - Washed Out
Nope, the title of the blog is not actually a description of how my brain has felt for the last month or so - and apologies to anyone who has missed me. Especially if you were trying to run me over with your car - because there were probably a few days I was totally ready for that in lieu of computer generated eyestrain and the carpal tunnels that goes along with typing somewhere in the ballpark of 50,000 words in a month. Hey, guess what? Turns out that writing a book is fucking hard! What!?!
But, this blog isn't really about me - not directly anyway - so let's get to the meat of it, shall we?
In the grand tradition of one guy with a mixer, a synth, and a drum machine calling themselves a band (what's with that anyway?), Washed Out is a fella named Ernest Greene from Georgia. He plays what that clever Pitchfork calls "bedroom synth," another term that I'm not I know the meaning of. I'll take a stab at it:
Bedroom synth: n. Music played by one guy with the name of a band that sounds like one guy with the name of a band playing into a microphone muffled with sweat socks, filtered through pixie dust and Sunday Hangovers and teeming underneath with really pretty layered melodies and soothing vocals.
Because here's the deal - Washed Out (and Memory Tapes, and Toro y Moi - two bands always mentioned with Washed Out) has really lush, gorgeous vocals that are buried under all that bedroom mess. The production is pretty low fi, but the songs are, kids listen to grandma here, a hell of a lot like what we used to call "shoegaze" or "dream pop" back when people made the same kind of sounds with guitar pedals.
In fact, if I was half asleep on a cocktail of codeine and Tylenol PM, I'd swear on my mother that "Feel It All Around" was some Slowdive song I'd never heard. Which, if you ask me, is actually a GOOD thing. England, apparently, practically ran Slowdive out of the country with ire and hatred, but down in sleepy old Austin, Texas in a dorm that looked like a prison, there were a whole lot of us ladies who thought they were pretty damn great.
And after a few listens, it starts to feel like the through-a-sweat-sock sound over all those vocals is really just a ruse to get you to bend your ear RCA-like a little closer to the speaker and go, "What are you whispering to me, you sensitive boy with the name of a band?" And your reward isn't small for doing so. It's actually pretty great.
Washed Out - you sound a little like Slowdive. And then sometimes you sound kind of like OMD covering Howard Jones (yeah, I said Howard. Jones.). You are a great soundtrack to a long bath. And I like you.
But, this blog isn't really about me - not directly anyway - so let's get to the meat of it, shall we?
In the grand tradition of one guy with a mixer, a synth, and a drum machine calling themselves a band (what's with that anyway?), Washed Out is a fella named Ernest Greene from Georgia. He plays what that clever Pitchfork calls "bedroom synth," another term that I'm not I know the meaning of. I'll take a stab at it:
Bedroom synth: n. Music played by one guy with the name of a band that sounds like one guy with the name of a band playing into a microphone muffled with sweat socks, filtered through pixie dust and Sunday Hangovers and teeming underneath with really pretty layered melodies and soothing vocals.
Because here's the deal - Washed Out (and Memory Tapes, and Toro y Moi - two bands always mentioned with Washed Out) has really lush, gorgeous vocals that are buried under all that bedroom mess. The production is pretty low fi, but the songs are, kids listen to grandma here, a hell of a lot like what we used to call "shoegaze" or "dream pop" back when people made the same kind of sounds with guitar pedals.
In fact, if I was half asleep on a cocktail of codeine and Tylenol PM, I'd swear on my mother that "Feel It All Around" was some Slowdive song I'd never heard. Which, if you ask me, is actually a GOOD thing. England, apparently, practically ran Slowdive out of the country with ire and hatred, but down in sleepy old Austin, Texas in a dorm that looked like a prison, there were a whole lot of us ladies who thought they were pretty damn great.
And after a few listens, it starts to feel like the through-a-sweat-sock sound over all those vocals is really just a ruse to get you to bend your ear RCA-like a little closer to the speaker and go, "What are you whispering to me, you sensitive boy with the name of a band?" And your reward isn't small for doing so. It's actually pretty great.
Washed Out - you sound a little like Slowdive. And then sometimes you sound kind of like OMD covering Howard Jones (yeah, I said Howard. Jones.). You are a great soundtrack to a long bath. And I like you.
Monday, September 14, 2009
9/14 - Colorama
A little sonic love by way of Wales today. I'm feeling a little melancholy, a little nostalgic, and a little chilly. I'm sick. It's gloomy outside and summer already looks like it's drifting south for the winter around here. So, I'm looking for something warm in my ears, and this is definitely it. Colorama have a few albums under their belts already, but with each they seem to be settling deeper into a soft psych/folk groove that I am entirely enjoying. Full warm horns along with some standing bass and acoustic strumming, despite the frequently Welsh lyrics, feel like sunset at El Matador Beach, which is a place I'd quite like to be right about now. Waves of cold water, warmth of the sun, baking the sand...if I close my eyes I'm right there. And I don't have this swollen, scratchy throat in my imagination,either. Summer sickness be gone!
Boy I sure do like the way those Welsh folks roll their r's.
http://www.myspace.com/coloramasound
Boy I sure do like the way those Welsh folks roll their r's.
http://www.myspace.com/coloramasound
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
9/9/09 - Dead Man's Bones
First, a message from your humble blogger: If there's anyone here reading this regularly, I apologize for being a little remiss in posting lately. I've got some paying gig deadlines, and I haven't had my usual time to seek out new music that excites me. If I disappear here and there, I'll be back. Things get a lot better next month in the land of free time.
Now, Dead Man's Bones. Another in the list of actor/singers. This time, our entry comes by way of Ryan Gosling. Frankly, I'll admit, I'm really glad that his music is as hot as he is. In a creepy, funeral cabaret kind of way, at least.
The latest song is called "My Body's a Zombie For You" and incorporates the #1 musical flair of the millenium: the children's choir. Despite its overwhelming prevelance in indie and electronic music over the last year or two - Peter Bjorn & John, Justice, Sound of Arrows, Karen O's new song for "Where the Wild Things Are" - I still find it to be an appealing affectation. Yeah, I like ALL of those songs - either because of the kiddie warbling, or despite it depending on the day.
I guess the real surprise lies in the fact that Gosling, a former New Mickey Mouse Club cast member along with the lamentable Britney Spears, has not only managed to snare himself some credibility in the acting world, but isn't embarrassing himself on the mic either. Let's call it Elvis by way of Richard Hawley by way of Dresden Dolls or something like that...
Here's another song of his, complete with choir, live from where else? a cemetary.
Now, Dead Man's Bones. Another in the list of actor/singers. This time, our entry comes by way of Ryan Gosling. Frankly, I'll admit, I'm really glad that his music is as hot as he is. In a creepy, funeral cabaret kind of way, at least.
The latest song is called "My Body's a Zombie For You" and incorporates the #1 musical flair of the millenium: the children's choir. Despite its overwhelming prevelance in indie and electronic music over the last year or two - Peter Bjorn & John, Justice, Sound of Arrows, Karen O's new song for "Where the Wild Things Are" - I still find it to be an appealing affectation. Yeah, I like ALL of those songs - either because of the kiddie warbling, or despite it depending on the day.
I guess the real surprise lies in the fact that Gosling, a former New Mickey Mouse Club cast member along with the lamentable Britney Spears, has not only managed to snare himself some credibility in the acting world, but isn't embarrassing himself on the mic either. Let's call it Elvis by way of Richard Hawley by way of Dresden Dolls or something like that...
Here's another song of his, complete with choir, live from where else? a cemetary.
Friday, September 4, 2009
9/4: Flashback Friday - Hall & Oates
Yep, I'm going there. And here's why:
Wednesday I got a pair of free tickets to see Hall & Oates live. My appreciation for Daryl and John has been growing over the years, as I realize that they're probably one of the only actual legit blue-eyed soul groups with any chops. I grew up on this stuff and never really thought of it as even vaguely r&b, but the way they sang it Wednesday night it sure was. Not kidding - they were awesome. And if I'm saying "awesome" you know I've just guzzled a whole pitcher of the Kool-aid.
I found it particularly perceptive when Daryl Hall said, "Huh, it used to be irony, now it's for real." Because they do seem to be that rare band that has crested the tide of sniggering asides to emerge on the other side in a wave of genuine appreciation. Just toss a 25 year old song into a hit, hip indie film (500 Days of Summer) and viola! Credibility returns!
But, lest we take it all too seriously, I've decided that I'm gonna post a nice little "remix" of a video with a special appearance by one of my favorite artists - keyboard cat. Hey, it's about to be a three day weekend. Let's bring it on home. Take it away kitty...
Wednesday I got a pair of free tickets to see Hall & Oates live. My appreciation for Daryl and John has been growing over the years, as I realize that they're probably one of the only actual legit blue-eyed soul groups with any chops. I grew up on this stuff and never really thought of it as even vaguely r&b, but the way they sang it Wednesday night it sure was. Not kidding - they were awesome. And if I'm saying "awesome" you know I've just guzzled a whole pitcher of the Kool-aid.
I found it particularly perceptive when Daryl Hall said, "Huh, it used to be irony, now it's for real." Because they do seem to be that rare band that has crested the tide of sniggering asides to emerge on the other side in a wave of genuine appreciation. Just toss a 25 year old song into a hit, hip indie film (500 Days of Summer) and viola! Credibility returns!
But, lest we take it all too seriously, I've decided that I'm gonna post a nice little "remix" of a video with a special appearance by one of my favorite artists - keyboard cat. Hey, it's about to be a three day weekend. Let's bring it on home. Take it away kitty...
9/3 - College
Have you ever looked at a Nagel painting and wondered what the vaguely Asian line drawn ice queen subject's record collection would sound like? Because I...well, okay, I totally have never wondered that. Not even anything close to that. Although I did once wonder why a guy I went home with in about 1998 would have a Nagel print on his wall - and didn't even consider it ironic! Guess what? He was bad in bed. There's a shock. Needless to say, not my finest moment. How exactly does one reconcile oneself the fact that she was chosen as a potential mate who used that same discerning taste to choose Nagel as a worthy subject of wall art in 1998? I shudder to think of these moments in my past.
So, yeah...College. I'm pretty sure the Nagel girl would like this band. It's entirely possible that I'm being influenced by the Ray Ban tippin', voyeur on the CD cover, but all this music kind of sounds a little like a Giorgio Moroder soundtrack to Risky Business. Like something you would hear in your head if you were, say, fucking Rebecca DeMornay on the hood of a Porsche. Or if you were riding a subway to meet up with the other people in your Warriors gang to fight other people with sticks and rollerskates.
Wierder still, I really like it. I think it's just that they get this feeling flat-out dead-to-rights perfect. But, by far, to me the standout is their collaboration with Electric Youth called "She Never Came Back." This song takes all the synthy moodiness and adds some chilly vocals that are almost, dare I say it, catchy. When it comes up on my iPod, I always turn it up. Especially if I'm listening to it in one ear while riding my scooter (yeah, tres illegal, I know), because it makes me feel mysterious - like a Blade Runner android plunked in the middle of a Los Angeles consumed by flames, ashes falling like grey snow on the golf course I pass on the way to work every day.
Oh, and did I mention that College is from France? Because they are.
http://www.myspace.com/collegeoflove
So, yeah...College. I'm pretty sure the Nagel girl would like this band. It's entirely possible that I'm being influenced by the Ray Ban tippin', voyeur on the CD cover, but all this music kind of sounds a little like a Giorgio Moroder soundtrack to Risky Business. Like something you would hear in your head if you were, say, fucking Rebecca DeMornay on the hood of a Porsche. Or if you were riding a subway to meet up with the other people in your Warriors gang to fight other people with sticks and rollerskates.
Wierder still, I really like it. I think it's just that they get this feeling flat-out dead-to-rights perfect. But, by far, to me the standout is their collaboration with Electric Youth called "She Never Came Back." This song takes all the synthy moodiness and adds some chilly vocals that are almost, dare I say it, catchy. When it comes up on my iPod, I always turn it up. Especially if I'm listening to it in one ear while riding my scooter (yeah, tres illegal, I know), because it makes me feel mysterious - like a Blade Runner android plunked in the middle of a Los Angeles consumed by flames, ashes falling like grey snow on the golf course I pass on the way to work every day.
Oh, and did I mention that College is from France? Because they are.
http://www.myspace.com/collegeoflove
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
9/1 - Crunchy Frog Celebrates 15 Years
Danish independent label Crunchy Frog Records will be celebrating 15 years of bringing some of the strangest, best and brightest acts to the indie scene in Denmark. To many of us on the west coast, that almost sounds like something akin to bringing together the best and brightest bands of, say, Barstow or Henderson, Nevada - but the main difference is that Denmark has itself a pretty healthy little scene out there, whether it's been neglected by we selection crazed 'mericans or not. Aside from the Raveonettes, Junior Senior and Asteroids Galaxy Tour, there has been a steady stream of ear-hugging tunes wafting through the Danish air for plenty more than a decade - as evidenced by the stellar selection of songs on Crunchy Frog-a-Logue, the 15 year celebration of all things Crunchy Frog. Yes, I like to keep saying Crunchy Frog. It's preposterously awful, Monty Python reference or not. But, luckily the music isn't.
25 bands such as Figurines, Asteroids Galaxy Tour, and The Fashion cover songs from the Crunchy Frog catalog and the result is a sweeping tour through pretty much every style of music you could find on the digital dial. The double CD is released next week for what is promised to be "CD price," whatever that means nowadays.
www.myspace.com/frogalogue
25 bands such as Figurines, Asteroids Galaxy Tour, and The Fashion cover songs from the Crunchy Frog catalog and the result is a sweeping tour through pretty much every style of music you could find on the digital dial. The double CD is released next week for what is promised to be "CD price," whatever that means nowadays.
www.myspace.com/frogalogue
Friday, August 28, 2009
8/28 - Flashback Fridays: Jobriath
Considered at the time one of pop music's biggest marketing blunders, Jobriath once boasted buses and billboards covered in larger than life images of his naked torso, was touted as the American Glam Rock sensation, and was also the first out gay singer in the pop world. But lest you blam Jobriath's spectacular sales failures on his outre sexuality - the truth lies somewhere closer to the fact that the music just isn't really all that great. I discovered this when I dusted off a copy of the first album and rescued it from a dollar bin - thinking I'd scored huge, but realizing I'd scored about $1. Looking back 35 years, however, to the following appearances on Midnight Special, one can't help but glean a little glee from Jobriath's alien Bowie presence. And a LOT of glee from Gladys Knight's snarky introduction to his theatrical performances. You'd think from the look on her face that she'd been asked to introduce a herd of pooping poodles!
Jobriath died of AIDs in the early 80s after experiencing a renaissance as a cabaret style singer, but happily, we still have the two below performances to ogle in order to keep a little bit of him alive.
Jobriath died of AIDs in the early 80s after experiencing a renaissance as a cabaret style singer, but happily, we still have the two below performances to ogle in order to keep a little bit of him alive.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
8/26 - Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele
Shit, let's get real here. Who can hate a self-reflective nerd from Mississippi who plays a ukelele and sings garden party 60s pop? Not me! I totally imagine Dent May as the kind of troubadour who would follow around the main characters in a romantic dream - replete with acid-flashback cartoon animals and puffy hearts above kissing lips. He'd strum this impossibly miniscule instrument, belt out some tenored warbling, and accuse them prettily of being delusional alcoholics.
This is no Bruddah Iz here, kiddos - you won't be hearing any sweet renditions of Over the Rainbow coming from under these oversized glasses.
http://www.myspace.com/dentmay
This is no Bruddah Iz here, kiddos - you won't be hearing any sweet renditions of Over the Rainbow coming from under these oversized glasses.
http://www.myspace.com/dentmay
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
8/25 - Little Dragon
In my imagination, Sweden is this glorious place where wonderful, glowing people are all carrying instruments to their magnificent practice space where they will gather together to make pretty, life-affirming, upbeat pop music that will then travel to the headphones of the rest of the world and bring peace to mankind. In reality, Sweden may well suck, and there probably are at least a FEW unattractive people there (though I'm yet to be provided proof of this), but in my head I'd prefer to believe in this musical Valhalla.
Riding on the backs of the feathery mystical pets of Odin, direct to your stereo this month, are the kids from Gothenberg called Little Dragon. A couple of years ago, Little Dragon provided an eponymous album of bedroom jazzy electrofusion, with a couple of really sublime sad and slow golden nuggets, and quite a few total disappointments. This month, they release their second foray and emerge with a tighter, bigger, more mature sound, leaving much of their slow musings to the likes of Fever Ray, in favor of some upbeat funky outings.
Thankfully, they haven't left behind their penchant for cool videos, though.
Riding on the backs of the feathery mystical pets of Odin, direct to your stereo this month, are the kids from Gothenberg called Little Dragon. A couple of years ago, Little Dragon provided an eponymous album of bedroom jazzy electrofusion, with a couple of really sublime sad and slow golden nuggets, and quite a few total disappointments. This month, they release their second foray and emerge with a tighter, bigger, more mature sound, leaving much of their slow musings to the likes of Fever Ray, in favor of some upbeat funky outings.
Thankfully, they haven't left behind their penchant for cool videos, though.
Friday, August 14, 2009
8/14 - Flashback Friday: Singapore and Hong Kong Rocks!
In the 1960s and early 70s, the budding musicians of Singapore and Hong Kong mined a good portion fo their inpiration from American pop radio. Singaporean surf bands, drenched in enough reverb to make Duane Eddy lose his head, backed chirpy voiced, heavily-accented coastal cuties in covers of nearly every US frat party track you could possibly imagine. There's something delighfully innocent in the earnest way these musicians throw themselves headfirst into these girl group and garage party covers. Lately, the record bins have been largely vacant of potentially undiscovered gems from Singapore and Hong Kong, as collectors have caught on in a big way. If you can find albums nowadays by bands such as The Quests (absolute excellence!), The Crescendos or the Thunderbirds, or by the inimitable singer Nancy Sit, good luck leaving with the shirt on your back.
For today, though, we'll enjoy some of the song stylings for free right here.
For today, though, we'll enjoy some of the song stylings for free right here.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
8/13 - Soko & Marina
Christ, I think I'm just gonna let you listen to this song without the fanfare. Soko joins up with Marina Vello (of Bonde do Role) and the guys from Radioclit, pulls an instantly recognizable sample and turns it into...hellllllllll yessssss!
8/12 - The xx
The xx sound really terrifically British. Which, I guess they should, since they are from London, but they've got this cool, languid phraseology that just sounds decidedly anglo. Their music is all about the quiet spaces, and pregnant pauses in between notes. Bass is spare, guitar is one-track, vocals are whispery and sleepy. It's hard, almost, to say exactly why this works as well as it does. But it does.
The debut album will be released by Rough Trade overseas on Monday. For now, limited copies of the single "Basic Space" are available on 7" & 12". A video for the song reveals the female vocalist to sport one of my favorite facial features - an adorable little underbite. I had a boyfriend with one of those once. He looked like a little Irish street brawler. In reality he was actually a very self-satisfied guitar player. But I still liked the underbite.
http://www.myspace.com/thexx
The debut album will be released by Rough Trade overseas on Monday. For now, limited copies of the single "Basic Space" are available on 7" & 12". A video for the song reveals the female vocalist to sport one of my favorite facial features - an adorable little underbite. I had a boyfriend with one of those once. He looked like a little Irish street brawler. In reality he was actually a very self-satisfied guitar player. But I still liked the underbite.
http://www.myspace.com/thexx
Friday, August 7, 2009
8/7 - Flashback Fridays: John Cale - Paris 1919
Generally, it isn't common to herald the most accessible work by a musician as inventive and sweeping as John Cale as also probably the best. But, such is the truth (as I see it, at least) for his 1973 solo album PARIS 1919. The songs combine a literary lyricsm, avant folk, and the intense point of view that made him always the darkest, most interesting member of the Velvet Underground during his tenure in the group.
Of late, I've been thinking of the title track often - with it's brass, strings, and otherworldly etherialism - and that sweeping, amazing swell of a chorus. It was put on a mix tape for me a decade ago by a friend, without a word of heed, and had been long since lost to the shifts of technology. But on certain days, it still sticks in my head. Today's one of 'em.
Of late, I've been thinking of the title track often - with it's brass, strings, and otherworldly etherialism - and that sweeping, amazing swell of a chorus. It was put on a mix tape for me a decade ago by a friend, without a word of heed, and had been long since lost to the shifts of technology. But on certain days, it still sticks in my head. Today's one of 'em.
8/6 - Fan Death
Disco sucks? Disco sucks? Disco sucks? Fan Death may as well be saying, "If you don't like the disco, go the fuck home!" If "Veronica's Veil" doesn't immediately make you want to put on your little micro-pleat diaphonous dresses and spin ecstatically in circles, then you might need to get your ears checked. The swelling strings of the intro alone promise all the joy of a shallow, vapid, dancefloor hit, and the duelling teutonic-sounding ladies' vocals deliver. Who wants their disco to be deep? Who ever wanted to hear a political statement when they were busy sucking up poppers and rubbing against a polyester boner under the influence of 8 gin fizzes? Not me, my friends. I like my polyester boner rubbing to be free of consciousness and guilt. Thanks Fan Death. I'm gonna play you tonight right after I play Jigsaw's "Sky High."
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
8/4/ - Anavan
To see Anavan play live is pretty much akin to doing a full-scale aerobic workout on mushrooms. I once asked Aaron, the manic, dynamic drummer/singer how I should describe their music, and he told me he liked to consider it "experimental electronic." I'll buy that for a dollar fifty.
The first time I saw Anavan was about three years ago at SXSW. They were playing a pretty depressing day show. Molly, the keyboardist/singer, happens to be my close friend's sister. Otherwise, the way I was feeling that day (read: HAGGARD), I never would have crawled my carcass into any kind of establishment that would possibly make me have to smell alcohol. But, that being said, despite the sparsity of the crowd at that particular show, Anavan kicked me in the ass like a snootful of cocaine. Generally speaking, when a friend says, "Oh my sister's band is really good. No, really." You bide your time until you go to your one obligatory show and rehearse deception in front of the mirror, "sure, yeah, they were great," and practice your excuses for never having to see them again.
Not this time, my friends. Anavan is the peak of what you want to see in a live show. Explosive drums, bass that makes you dance like someone's shooting pistols at your feet, and above all...showmanship. Something that, in my book, is sorely lacking in plenty of bands in the LA scene. Anavan plays often with the likes of Abe Vigoda and HEALTH, who have both managed to escalate to a little more national recognition than Anavan. I certainly won't say that's undeserved, but a little Anavan love is far overdue. Not only is this three-piece fun, fresh, and electric, but they're also damn smart, and that's another thing we need a little more of.
http://www.myspace.com/anavan
The first time I saw Anavan was about three years ago at SXSW. They were playing a pretty depressing day show. Molly, the keyboardist/singer, happens to be my close friend's sister. Otherwise, the way I was feeling that day (read: HAGGARD), I never would have crawled my carcass into any kind of establishment that would possibly make me have to smell alcohol. But, that being said, despite the sparsity of the crowd at that particular show, Anavan kicked me in the ass like a snootful of cocaine. Generally speaking, when a friend says, "Oh my sister's band is really good. No, really." You bide your time until you go to your one obligatory show and rehearse deception in front of the mirror, "sure, yeah, they were great," and practice your excuses for never having to see them again.
Not this time, my friends. Anavan is the peak of what you want to see in a live show. Explosive drums, bass that makes you dance like someone's shooting pistols at your feet, and above all...showmanship. Something that, in my book, is sorely lacking in plenty of bands in the LA scene. Anavan plays often with the likes of Abe Vigoda and HEALTH, who have both managed to escalate to a little more national recognition than Anavan. I certainly won't say that's undeserved, but a little Anavan love is far overdue. Not only is this three-piece fun, fresh, and electric, but they're also damn smart, and that's another thing we need a little more of.
http://www.myspace.com/anavan
8/3 - My Tiger My Timing
I'm beginning to suspect that the world is running out of band names. I can only in my wildest imagination guess what the hell My Tiger My Timing was inspired by when naming themselves. Unless one of them is a one armed drummer who owns a tiger and was a little slow at feeding time, I remain baffled.
It reminds me of this one time when I was hanging out with my much-much-cooler-than-me friends Cathy and Tyler at someone's fancy loft apartment in Dallas. As, I'm not kidding you, a parade of models visiting from NY traipsed in and out, the owner of the loft was attempting to pirate Adult Swim episodes and talking about his record collection. As I'm watching this conversation with all the slightly disturbed wonder a naturist displays watching birds screw mid-flight, the loft owner asks Tyler, "Have you heard the Bald Mermaid album?" At this point, I prod Cathy and stage whisper, "You've got to be fucking kidding me, right?" She nonchalantly exhales a stream of smoke in the direction of, no kidding, a Bald Mermaid album. So, I adopt this nonchalance and respond to the group, "It's not nearly as innovative as the Constipated Yak album that came out the same year." Needless to say, they weren't amused, so I went back to sulking and surreptitiously ogling the models.
Unwieldy name aside, My Tiger My Timing is nice experimental pop 4 piece band out of South London. Though they've been accused of twiddling with afrobeat rhythms, I find that a lot more obvious in their remixes. In the first single, released late in '08 called "This is Not the Fire," the real ear-catching part of the sound comes from the melding of an almost Tina Weymouth/Tom Tom Club sensibility with a 4-part free for all on the vocals. I'm not sure that they're breaking any new ground here, but they've definitely got catchy in their back pockets, so I look forward to the release of their first EP, "I Am Sound" coming out in September.
http://www.myspace.com/mytigermytiming
It reminds me of this one time when I was hanging out with my much-much-cooler-than-me friends Cathy and Tyler at someone's fancy loft apartment in Dallas. As, I'm not kidding you, a parade of models visiting from NY traipsed in and out, the owner of the loft was attempting to pirate Adult Swim episodes and talking about his record collection. As I'm watching this conversation with all the slightly disturbed wonder a naturist displays watching birds screw mid-flight, the loft owner asks Tyler, "Have you heard the Bald Mermaid album?" At this point, I prod Cathy and stage whisper, "You've got to be fucking kidding me, right?" She nonchalantly exhales a stream of smoke in the direction of, no kidding, a Bald Mermaid album. So, I adopt this nonchalance and respond to the group, "It's not nearly as innovative as the Constipated Yak album that came out the same year." Needless to say, they weren't amused, so I went back to sulking and surreptitiously ogling the models.
Unwieldy name aside, My Tiger My Timing is nice experimental pop 4 piece band out of South London. Though they've been accused of twiddling with afrobeat rhythms, I find that a lot more obvious in their remixes. In the first single, released late in '08 called "This is Not the Fire," the real ear-catching part of the sound comes from the melding of an almost Tina Weymouth/Tom Tom Club sensibility with a 4-part free for all on the vocals. I'm not sure that they're breaking any new ground here, but they've definitely got catchy in their back pockets, so I look forward to the release of their first EP, "I Am Sound" coming out in September.
http://www.myspace.com/mytigermytiming
Thursday, July 30, 2009
7/30 - Eagle & Talon
Eagle and Talon are a girlie duo from Los Angeles that seem to have picked up the mid 90s mantle from the likes of Slant 6, Sleater-Kinney, and Helium. They've got a melodic yet angular (christ I'm tired of that word - any new suggestions would be much appreciated), atonal cacophanous, sweet garagey thing going that doesn't sound much like all the other stuff coming out of El-Lay right about now.
In June, the duo released a full length album called Thracian, which they are actually offering on a "pay what you want" basis here. Be sure if you buy it not to be a total cheap douche and toss them some decent money. A couple of ladies playing occasional shows at the Echo, no matter how much indie cred they have, would probably appreciate a nice meal at the taco truck around the corner. Get some good music that makes you feel like a sexually confused, thrift store shopping, angsty college girl all over again. Okay, maybe that's just me, but still...that's wierdly a good thing.
http://www.myspace.com/eagleandtalon
In June, the duo released a full length album called Thracian, which they are actually offering on a "pay what you want" basis here. Be sure if you buy it not to be a total cheap douche and toss them some decent money. A couple of ladies playing occasional shows at the Echo, no matter how much indie cred they have, would probably appreciate a nice meal at the taco truck around the corner. Get some good music that makes you feel like a sexually confused, thrift store shopping, angsty college girl all over again. Okay, maybe that's just me, but still...that's wierdly a good thing.
http://www.myspace.com/eagleandtalon
7/29 - Appaloosa
Have you ever wondered what Nico might sound like if she had been introduced to Zoloft? Cuz I have. No, seriously, I totally have. A co-worker of mine once intimated that Nico's voice sounded kind of like a cross between a foghorn and someone with Down's Syndrome having trouble enunciating. Look, I didn't say it, I'm just repeating it. But I violently disagreed, folded my arms, and cold-shouldered him through 6 more hours of brain-killing data entry and his shitty Keane CD collection.
I may not know shit about the band Appaloosa, but one thing I do know is that I'm fairly certain that said co-worker would totally hate them, because Zoloft, meet Nico. Nico, meet Zoloft. Now you two go in a room with a young German guy and make some moody electro. Thank you. You're welcome.
Seiously, this is destined to be a post completely absent of any pertinent information, but I hope you'll appreciate that the crappy reportage is directly inverse to the excellent music of Appaloosa. Oddly enough, there's a pretty similarly useless interview with the band on the (500)Days of Summer film blog.
Currently, you can only buy their fine single "The Day We (Fell In Love)" from Kitsune and iTunes, but the demos on their myspace page are more than just a little fucking promising.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
7/28 - Gram Rabbit
It's true that Gram Rabbit has been knocking around the high desert of Joshua Tree for a long time now, so are hardly a brand spanking new revelation to anyone who has ever been fortunate enough to spend a weekend night under the starry skies of Pioneer Town enjoying a beer and the desert's finest music at Pappy & Harriet's. Pappy's could well be SoCal's best unintentionally kept secret - a honky tonk set in the amber dirt hills above J.Tree, and nestled in a literal old west town, albeit a honky tonk that routinely boasts sets by the likes of Peaches, Eagles of Death Metal, Josh Homme, and today's Bomb, Gram Rabbit. It's not hard to imagine why these folks love the desert. It's quiet, beautiful, and filled with a heady mix of artists, musicians and desert rat burnouts alike.
I've had several occasions, myself, to spend some time up there thanks to the fact that my friend Kate moved there several years ago. As unhappy as I may be to see her less frequently, I am a big fan of any instance of a friend moving someplace I love to visit. I am an even bigger fan of visiting her when she invites over all her friends and makes some killer pork chili verde. On one nice occasion, I got to play duelling DJ with Kate's former roommate, Killer, an indeed killer chick who tours as Peaches' sound crew. On another, the party included more tacos than I could load into a hollow leg, a bounce house, and the nice folks of Gram Rabbit - Todd & Jessika.
Gram Rabbit's music is a kind of symphony of disorder - almost impossible to categorize easily in any real genre. It is in turns party electro, desert funk, and guitar madness. "Bloody Bunnies" somehow made it onto the soundtrack to the now-defunct show "Life," although I can't imagine what bloody bunnies in the road could have had to do with any kind of cop show.
They play in LA at the Troubadour on Thursday. Their live shows are as whacked as their music, so if you like what you hear, go give it a look.
I've had several occasions, myself, to spend some time up there thanks to the fact that my friend Kate moved there several years ago. As unhappy as I may be to see her less frequently, I am a big fan of any instance of a friend moving someplace I love to visit. I am an even bigger fan of visiting her when she invites over all her friends and makes some killer pork chili verde. On one nice occasion, I got to play duelling DJ with Kate's former roommate, Killer, an indeed killer chick who tours as Peaches' sound crew. On another, the party included more tacos than I could load into a hollow leg, a bounce house, and the nice folks of Gram Rabbit - Todd & Jessika.
Gram Rabbit's music is a kind of symphony of disorder - almost impossible to categorize easily in any real genre. It is in turns party electro, desert funk, and guitar madness. "Bloody Bunnies" somehow made it onto the soundtrack to the now-defunct show "Life," although I can't imagine what bloody bunnies in the road could have had to do with any kind of cop show.
They play in LA at the Troubadour on Thursday. Their live shows are as whacked as their music, so if you like what you hear, go give it a look.
Friday, July 24, 2009
7/24 - Flashback Friday: Lee Hazelwood
Lee Hazelwood is probably most famous for writing Nancy Sinatra's "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'," and beyond that for his long time collaboration with her as both a songwriter and a duet partner. And as much as "Boots" is a pop music giant, what Hazelwood molded Nancy's wispy vocals into in their other tracks was often much stranger and esoteric. Back in the early '90s I used to fall asleep listening to Slowdive's Souvlaki album pretty often. As far as nap records go, that one is seriously the king - which is no insult, I assure you, because it's also beautiful and perfect. But, as a bonus track on that CD they do a straightforward cover of Hazelwood/Sinatra's "Some Velvet Morning." When I learned that this eerie tempo shifting, fairy tale of a song was originally on a Nancy Sinatra album, I think I probably coughed out all the pot smoke I'd just inhaled, grabbed my high interest Best Buy credit card and went in search of Sinatra. Even today when I listen to "Some Velvet Morning" on my coveted Nancy & Lee LP, I can't believe that this song is 40 years old. It's like a cross between a Spaghetti Western and an acid trip!
But not to dwell so much on one single song, because Lee's other output is equally impressive. He was in a film called "Cowboy in Sweden" and cut a terrific soundtrack, and did an album with Ann Margaret (who does actually seem like a suitable follow up to Nancy), and if you can find any of those around your local record store, you should buy them immediately. Hazelwood's basement-deep vocals recall a more elusive and less serious Johnny Cash - as you can hear pretty clearly in his and Nancy's pleasing cover of "Jackson." It's a voice that rattles the seat of your pants, and spreads from your chest to your fingers. It's sad, but comforting. Masculine, but sensitive.
Enjoy.
But not to dwell so much on one single song, because Lee's other output is equally impressive. He was in a film called "Cowboy in Sweden" and cut a terrific soundtrack, and did an album with Ann Margaret (who does actually seem like a suitable follow up to Nancy), and if you can find any of those around your local record store, you should buy them immediately. Hazelwood's basement-deep vocals recall a more elusive and less serious Johnny Cash - as you can hear pretty clearly in his and Nancy's pleasing cover of "Jackson." It's a voice that rattles the seat of your pants, and spreads from your chest to your fingers. It's sad, but comforting. Masculine, but sensitive.
Enjoy.
7/23 - Mayer Hawthorne
No lie, Detroit is the birthplace of smooth soul. Being a Southerner, myself, I've always much preferred the dirty sex-you-down thump of the Stax sound over Motown, but as long as there are Sunday afternoons on Earth, the liquid language of Holland-Dozier-Holland has a home. In the outer reaches of the Detroit area, a little white kid named Mayer Hawthorne must have had a whole lot of Sunday afternoons filled with scratchy Hitsville vinyl, because crap, the guy's got the stuff down pat.
Reputedly, when he brought his music to Peanut Butter Wolf (head of his label Stone's Throw), the Wolf thought he was peddling remixes or joshing him with some deep cuts of old Motwon stuff. And it can be kind of a lot to wrap your head around the fact that this bespectacled suburban nerd is crooning out this kind of Smokey Robinson vibe. But, damned if he isn't.
And don't miss your chance to buy a sweet heart-shaped 7" for the single "Just Ain't Gonna Work Out" on the Stone's Throw site, as featured in the below video for the song.
http://www.myspace.com/mayerhawthorne
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
7/21 - The Dodos
It's actually my hope that I'm not pointing out anything new with this post. In a perfect world, anyone who might read this would already own at least the Dodos' easily obtainable last album, Visiter that came out a couple of years ago around the same time the Fleet Foxes released their first full length album. Frankly, it's been an unending source of confusion to me as to why Fleet Foxes are bigger than Jesus, but The Dodos have remained somewhat below the radar. On the surface, they both have the sonic quality of a sunlit Smoky Mountain stream - all soft acoustic jangling, pastoral harmonies, rim-clicking insect drums - but the Dodos bear the distinction of being equally compared to Animal Collective, i.e. another band whose sound has sent many a bearded boy's tighty witeys straight to the laundry pile, yet are not nearly as obtuse and inscrutable in the melody department as those indie giants.
So will the upcoming third album, Time to Die be the one that sets The Dodos afire? Will this trio from San Francisco rise above the status of JV team little brother to these Varsity superstars? Shit, I don't know. So far, the preview single "Fables" that has appeared on their myspace recently isn't grabbing me and yanking my eyes back into the back of my head like "Fools," "The Ball," and "Trades and Tarriffs" with their finger-picking tent-revivial goodness. But it's nice enough to make me look forward to mid-September when I can hear the rest.
I do have to note that I saw them play in front of the American Mammal Diorama in the Natural History Museum near USC, and that is hard to top. But, a close second may be arriving. The Dodos will be playing at The Getty on August 8th.
So will the upcoming third album, Time to Die be the one that sets The Dodos afire? Will this trio from San Francisco rise above the status of JV team little brother to these Varsity superstars? Shit, I don't know. So far, the preview single "Fables" that has appeared on their myspace recently isn't grabbing me and yanking my eyes back into the back of my head like "Fools," "The Ball," and "Trades and Tarriffs" with their finger-picking tent-revivial goodness. But it's nice enough to make me look forward to mid-September when I can hear the rest.
I do have to note that I saw them play in front of the American Mammal Diorama in the Natural History Museum near USC, and that is hard to top. But, a close second may be arriving. The Dodos will be playing at The Getty on August 8th.
7/20 - My Gold Mask
This boy/girl duo out of Chicago is cranking out some kitchen-sink blues/rhythmic/pop stuff that is gaining some attention in the almighty blogosphere lately. And while I'd say that their freshman effort available on Bandcamp is still pretty rough around the edges, it sounds like a band slowly settling into their skins and crouching down to run an otherworldly race. If this is the stretching period, in other words, then I'd imagine that what's to come should be worth watching out for. The female vocals vary between slightly creepy to boldly aggressive, and the nylon-stringed electric guitar that roils along the background reminds us of a time when college rock didn't require a degree in advanced electronic engineering.
You can download the album here. The songs Bitches, Your Coo Ka Choo, and Monomania (below)* are even eff-ar-ee-ee. Yep, won't ding your cherry Paypal veneer one bit.
And for those of you reading this on your Commodore 64s, you can even order this album on cassette. Technophobes unite!
*Hot yam, I actually figured out how to put a real song on this thing!
Friday, July 17, 2009
7/17 - Introducing Flashback Fridays
I've decided starting this week that rather than intermittently filtering in some of my classic favorites, I'm going to do it each Friday, focusing especially on some classic clips culled from Youtube and elsewhere.
Today's flashback I'll dedicate to a couple of underrated 1960s girl groups - The Flirtations and The Exciters (a girl group with one boy), and a couple of terrific videos made for a couple of truly thumping songs.
The Exciters come to us by way of Jamaica, NY circa early '60s when their first hit "Tell Him" topped the Billboard chart. Lead vocalist Brenda Reid was backed by Lillian Walker, Sylvia Wilbur and Herb Rooney (later to be Reid's husband). "Tell Him" was not only a monster hit at the time, but it was also an important (if overlooked at the time) milestone for female vocals. Where women in music tended to sing demure, romantic odes to love, Reid's powerhouse voice urged a more active, forceful feminine role. The pattern set forth in "Tell Him" was taken on ten-fold with their second, sadly less successful, single "He's Got the Power." Even though Reid sings of being under her man's sexy love spell, she does so in a marked bellow of defiance that lets you know she might just be enjoying the fight. Doubtlessly, The Exciters' muscular female vocals and subject matter were precursors for the tough sounds of The Shangri-Las and The Ronettes later.
The Flirtations were a trio (and occasional quartet) from the UK that found some success in the later 60s both in England and in the US with their hit "Nothing But a Heartache." If there is such a thing as girl-soul-metal, this song is it. If you listen to the levels in this urgent floor burner, you can't help but imagine that every dial was fiery red in the recording booth. The song was released on the Deram label in 1968, and featured the vocals of sisters Shirley & Ernestine Pearce and Viola Billups. The video for the song is a real head-scratcher, and though I don't believe that it was a Scopitone video it does resemble one in its esoteric location and theme.
Both of these songs can be found in the absolutely kickass box set - One Kiss Can Lead to Another: Girl Group Sounds Lost and Found by Rhino, which is easily the greatest Christmas presents I ever received in my life (thanks mom). And if you are interested in more strange and wonderful videos such as these, and you are in Los Angeles, there is an event at the Egyptian Theater this Sunday discussing the history and technical development of Scopitones (which were "video jukeboxes" that predated MTV by a couple of decades), and showing some choice clips. Read more about that here.
Today's flashback I'll dedicate to a couple of underrated 1960s girl groups - The Flirtations and The Exciters (a girl group with one boy), and a couple of terrific videos made for a couple of truly thumping songs.
The Exciters come to us by way of Jamaica, NY circa early '60s when their first hit "Tell Him" topped the Billboard chart. Lead vocalist Brenda Reid was backed by Lillian Walker, Sylvia Wilbur and Herb Rooney (later to be Reid's husband). "Tell Him" was not only a monster hit at the time, but it was also an important (if overlooked at the time) milestone for female vocals. Where women in music tended to sing demure, romantic odes to love, Reid's powerhouse voice urged a more active, forceful feminine role. The pattern set forth in "Tell Him" was taken on ten-fold with their second, sadly less successful, single "He's Got the Power." Even though Reid sings of being under her man's sexy love spell, she does so in a marked bellow of defiance that lets you know she might just be enjoying the fight. Doubtlessly, The Exciters' muscular female vocals and subject matter were precursors for the tough sounds of The Shangri-Las and The Ronettes later.
The Flirtations were a trio (and occasional quartet) from the UK that found some success in the later 60s both in England and in the US with their hit "Nothing But a Heartache." If there is such a thing as girl-soul-metal, this song is it. If you listen to the levels in this urgent floor burner, you can't help but imagine that every dial was fiery red in the recording booth. The song was released on the Deram label in 1968, and featured the vocals of sisters Shirley & Ernestine Pearce and Viola Billups. The video for the song is a real head-scratcher, and though I don't believe that it was a Scopitone video it does resemble one in its esoteric location and theme.
Both of these songs can be found in the absolutely kickass box set - One Kiss Can Lead to Another: Girl Group Sounds Lost and Found by Rhino, which is easily the greatest Christmas presents I ever received in my life (thanks mom). And if you are interested in more strange and wonderful videos such as these, and you are in Los Angeles, there is an event at the Egyptian Theater this Sunday discussing the history and technical development of Scopitones (which were "video jukeboxes" that predated MTV by a couple of decades), and showing some choice clips. Read more about that here.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
7/15 - Goldielocks
Since yesterday's selection was a little on the sad side, let's make today opposite day. Nothin' sad about female British MC, Goldielocks. Sassy, adorable, and a little edgy, she fuses good time street party with social sarcasm and lays it down over a catchy hands-in-the-air kind of beat (provided, while performing live, on the tables by her very handsome husband). Continuing to get mileage out of the three days I spent sweating out SXSW, Goldielocks was yet another act that played on 3/20 at the Beauty Bar (sharing the bill with prior Daily Bombs Solid Gold and Juliette and the New Romantiques - what can I say? It was a fucking awesome showcase). In fact, here's a picture.
If you could drag that lens about two audience spots to the left, you'd see me holding a half-empty can of Sparks and halfdancing like people are ought to do when standing in a crowd of, oh, about 20 people - all who seem really happy to be there, but none of whom are drunk enough at 3pm to bust any kind of devilmaycare moves. Head bob/foot tap combo it is, then.
In a nice PR move, Ms. Locks was free with the handouts of her Bear Safe EP after the set. I snagged one, smiled, nodded, mumbled my thanks and then proceeded to allow three of my friends to upload it to their computers. In thanks for my mild crime spree, today, I give you Goldielocks. Buy some of her music. It's great stuff to listen to while putting on your Saturday night lipgloss.
Also, read her blog. It's a good time.
http://www.myspace.com/goldielocksmusic
If you could drag that lens about two audience spots to the left, you'd see me holding a half-empty can of Sparks and halfdancing like people are ought to do when standing in a crowd of, oh, about 20 people - all who seem really happy to be there, but none of whom are drunk enough at 3pm to bust any kind of devilmaycare moves. Head bob/foot tap combo it is, then.
In a nice PR move, Ms. Locks was free with the handouts of her Bear Safe EP after the set. I snagged one, smiled, nodded, mumbled my thanks and then proceeded to allow three of my friends to upload it to their computers. In thanks for my mild crime spree, today, I give you Goldielocks. Buy some of her music. It's great stuff to listen to while putting on your Saturday night lipgloss.
Also, read her blog. It's a good time.
http://www.myspace.com/goldielocksmusic
7/14 - Yonlu
This month, David Byrne's brilliant label Luaka Bop, realesed Yonlu's first - and sadly destined to be only - album, called A Society In Which No Tear Is Shed Is Inconceivably Mediocre. The music on the album is a collection of bedroom recordings by a talented and deeply introspective teenager, whose ability to fuse Western modern folk soundscapes (with many, maybe too many, hints of the late Elliot Smith), with variations on Bossa Nova rhythms and Caetano Veloso-style guitar picking, seems remarkably beyond the depth of his 16 short years.
Sadly, before Yonlu (aka Vinicius Gageiro Marques of Porto Alegre) was to turn 17, he took his own life. His music was discovered on his computer posthumously by his parents, who had no idea that he had been recording anything.
Perhaps surprisingly, the collection of songs that Luaka Bop has put out, also include a lot of joy and whimsy. The playlist is uneven and wavering, as you would imagine the mind of a teenager may be, but it also breathes and sparkles. The naked quality of the tunes is destined to make the disc one of the more important recordings of the year, even if it is equally destined to be one of those discs you'll only want to hear alone with your headphones.
Luaka Bop has generously made the whole album available for listen on Yonlu's web page.
Monday, July 13, 2009
7/13 - Django Django
What is it about the name of this band that makes me think of a hipster Hamburgler? I really can't help but saying the name Django Django like RubbleRubble, and then I get oddly hungry for a Quarter Pounder w/Cheese. And while one has to assume that the name at least obliquely refers to guitar legend Django Reinhardt, the music gives us no indication of any kind of sonic connection.
What we have here is a folk/electronic, rhythmic, acoustic/electric mish mash created by a group that has to be really sick and tired of being compared to, say, early outings of The Beta Band. But, hey, I like the Beta Band, so it's no insult from my end. And I like Django Django. I find the swelling, layered vocals to be somehow both soothing and tense at the same time, and overall just plain pleasing.
As yet, the band remains unsigned. However, you can order a nice copy of the Storm/Love's Dart 7" on Pure Groove. As a bonus, you can order it with a poster of some kind of esoteric album art that will send a big ole Fuck You message to your kid's Jonas Brothers posters.
http://www.myspace.com/djangotime
What we have here is a folk/electronic, rhythmic, acoustic/electric mish mash created by a group that has to be really sick and tired of being compared to, say, early outings of The Beta Band. But, hey, I like the Beta Band, so it's no insult from my end. And I like Django Django. I find the swelling, layered vocals to be somehow both soothing and tense at the same time, and overall just plain pleasing.
As yet, the band remains unsigned. However, you can order a nice copy of the Storm/Love's Dart 7" on Pure Groove. As a bonus, you can order it with a poster of some kind of esoteric album art that will send a big ole Fuck You message to your kid's Jonas Brothers posters.
http://www.myspace.com/djangotime
Thursday, July 9, 2009
7/9 - Shirley Ellis
You know that Name Game you used to play as a kid - "Phil Phil bo Bill Banana Fanna Fo Fill...etc."? Well, maybe you don't know that you can pretty much thank or blame Shirley Ellis for that song (though the youthful glee of putting the names Mitch and Chuck through the treatment is all your own).
Ellis had a relatively brief career spanning from about 1963 - 1968, wherein she had three pop singles blaze into the top 10, and one other modestly successful soul side presented as a coda to her years as a singer. She was born in the Bronx in 1941, and began singing in the '50s with a now-forgotten group called the Metronomes. Toward the end of that decade, she hooked up with manager/songwriter Lincoln Chase (who had already penned the hit "Jim Dandy" for LaVern Baker), and together they released the semi-novelty floor-burner "The Nitty Gritty" in 1963. Ellis' version of the song, sadly and strangely, was released only as a live cut. Though the stereo quality is uncommonly good for this treatment, nonetheless, no known version seems to exist without the distracting swell of the audience in the background. This, in my opinion, is the one thing that makes Gladys Knight & the Pips' later cover of the song the superior of the two.
The offhanded, playful nursery-rhyme like lyrics of "The Name Game," which became her next release, proved so popular for the singer, that she duplicated the formula in the far-superior single "The Clapping Song" a year later. For my money, "The Clapping Song," with its chanting, rhythmic sing- and clap-along melody, may be over 40 years old at this point, but has scarcely been trumped as one of the best danceparty songs of all time. For her last hit, Ellis released the excellent, more traditional soul, "Soultime," which has been sampled to excellent effect recently by the group The Go! Team (in their song "Bottle Rocket".
It's astounding how well Ellis' so-called novelty pop songs have held up over the years. It's no secret that the "disposable" pop music of the '60s turned out to be quite recyclable in sound, style and tone, but it says a lot that the original versions still play so well next to the music of today.
Ellis had a relatively brief career spanning from about 1963 - 1968, wherein she had three pop singles blaze into the top 10, and one other modestly successful soul side presented as a coda to her years as a singer. She was born in the Bronx in 1941, and began singing in the '50s with a now-forgotten group called the Metronomes. Toward the end of that decade, she hooked up with manager/songwriter Lincoln Chase (who had already penned the hit "Jim Dandy" for LaVern Baker), and together they released the semi-novelty floor-burner "The Nitty Gritty" in 1963. Ellis' version of the song, sadly and strangely, was released only as a live cut. Though the stereo quality is uncommonly good for this treatment, nonetheless, no known version seems to exist without the distracting swell of the audience in the background. This, in my opinion, is the one thing that makes Gladys Knight & the Pips' later cover of the song the superior of the two.
The offhanded, playful nursery-rhyme like lyrics of "The Name Game," which became her next release, proved so popular for the singer, that she duplicated the formula in the far-superior single "The Clapping Song" a year later. For my money, "The Clapping Song," with its chanting, rhythmic sing- and clap-along melody, may be over 40 years old at this point, but has scarcely been trumped as one of the best danceparty songs of all time. For her last hit, Ellis released the excellent, more traditional soul, "Soultime," which has been sampled to excellent effect recently by the group The Go! Team (in their song "Bottle Rocket".
It's astounding how well Ellis' so-called novelty pop songs have held up over the years. It's no secret that the "disposable" pop music of the '60s turned out to be quite recyclable in sound, style and tone, but it says a lot that the original versions still play so well next to the music of today.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
7/8 - Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band
Despite the unwieldy name, these local Seattle contemporaries of last week's Daily Bomb Champagne Champagne, are determined to make you remember it. Rather than taking the pervasively popular electro-twiddling route, MSHVB brings some guitar rock back to the College Rock table. And despite loose and virtuosic twin guitar showdowns, they also manage to make some music that is as easy to sing along with as your ABCs. Songs like "Who's Asking" and "Anchors Dropped" bring exciting, blazing radio anthems to your speakers that both soothe the ears and pound the pulse.
According to the band's press, the band formed in 2008, when lead axman Benji Verdoes was impelled to keep a promise to his 13 year old brother Marshall. Reportedly, in a move of sibling solidarity, Benji promised then 11 year old Marshall that when he got good enough at his new drumming endeavor, they could form a band. Apparently the incentive worked, because two years later, MSHVB surfaced. Luckily for the rest of us, not only did Marshall get quite good at his instrument, but together with Benji and another two equally talented friends, they formed a GOOD band. Had I made the same promise to my little brother, we'd have likely made music only our mother could pretend to love. So, good on you, Verdoes Bros.
An EP is now available on Secretly Canadian's sister label, Dead Oceans.
http://www.myspace.com/mtsthelensvietnamband
According to the band's press, the band formed in 2008, when lead axman Benji Verdoes was impelled to keep a promise to his 13 year old brother Marshall. Reportedly, in a move of sibling solidarity, Benji promised then 11 year old Marshall that when he got good enough at his new drumming endeavor, they could form a band. Apparently the incentive worked, because two years later, MSHVB surfaced. Luckily for the rest of us, not only did Marshall get quite good at his instrument, but together with Benji and another two equally talented friends, they formed a GOOD band. Had I made the same promise to my little brother, we'd have likely made music only our mother could pretend to love. So, good on you, Verdoes Bros.
An EP is now available on Secretly Canadian's sister label, Dead Oceans.
http://www.myspace.com/mtsthelensvietnamband
Thursday, July 2, 2009
7/2 - Champagne Champagne
I'll admit that I don't know a whole lot about this band. So, no cheeky asides, no non sequitur biographical ramblings, no in depth explorations of musical context. Basically, Champagne Champagne is a group of guys out of Seattle that play some hip hop infused with jaunty acoustic strumming. They're sometimes offhanded and languid like the Gorillaz and more often a whole thing of their own. They say that they got together to play "feel good music," and I'd say that's about as good a description as any. Shout outs to Molly Ringwald and Appalonia should give you the idea that this isn't posturing street-based rap - nary a bitch, a ho, or a nigga in sight - but something a little more East Coast, liquid, cerebral stuff.
You can download their full album here. And preview some tracks on their myspace.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
7/1 - Koko Von Napoo
What better way to start the month celebrating American independence, than with the presentation of a new band from France. Oh, sure, as gifts celebrating our questionable freedom go, Koko Von Napoo's music might not be quite as weighty and impressive as that tall lady of liberty standing in the harbor up in New York, but it's French at least. A stretch? Yeah, okay, I'll admit I just thought this band sounded pretty nice. They DO make me feel thankful for my freedom to wear headphones at work, at least.
Enough of that nonsense, though. What we have here is yet another band that has slinked onto the scene with a savvy, continental and sophisticated 7", available to physically own through the Rough Trade website, or to download on iTunes. If you happen to be a fan of Altered Images, I think you'll love this one. Even if you aren't, but like your songs jerky and swirly, with hand claps and slightly accented chripy female vocals, this is totally your flavor, man.
The A-side is "Polly," and the B-side is called "JonBon." Their myspace page also features remixes of "Polly" by Chateau Marmont and Bitchee Bitchee Ya Ya Ya, the former of which is actually as good as the original song, the latter of which is complete feces.
http://www.myspace.com/kokovonnapoo
Monday, June 29, 2009
6/29 - Timebox
Strangely enough, 2009 has been interesting for Mike Patto. His 1970s prog rock band called (easily enough) Patto saw their track "The Man" used in trailers for the creepy and uncomfortable film OBSERVE AND REPORT. And one of his earlier band, Timbox's popular singles has been repurposed into a surprising, and unneccessary radio hit by the European rappers Madcon. Granted, that song is "Beggin'" which Timebox themselves repurposed from the original outing by the Four Seasons - but the big difference here is that Timebox, as far as I'm concerned, vastly improved the original, whereas Madcon kind of rubbed stink all over it.
For a pretty solid part of 2007 and 2008 I couldn't stop playing Timebox's version of the song. I played it when I was getting ready to go out at night, I put it on mix CDs, iPod playlists, and I DJ'ed it relentlessly every time I'd fill in working behind the bar. The song itself is great - nearly a perfect slice of frenetic melody, with a beat that no doubt could have incited the Northern Soul followers to
knock the roof of the Wigan Casino back in the day (which was probably a Saturday). However, what Timebox really brings to the table here is the addition of a really amazing, pulsing vibraphone solo. Band member Ollie Halsall, who was also an incredibly skilled guitar player, rolled out the vibes in several Timebox originals as well as in this memorable cover, and it became a really unique signature in the band's sound.
Unfortunately, as is all too often the tale of woe in the music world, Decca Deram looked upon Timebox as a pop band, rather than the pre-prog/ heavy-psych/jazz-rock band that they were trying to evolve into. As a result, many of their harder and more experimental songs were left unreleased in favor of novelties like "Baked Jam Roll in Your Eye" (recorded as a lark when the boys were three sheets to the wind) and instrumentals like (the still pretty good) "Soul Sauce." Some critics, looking back, have made mention that Timebox might have been one of the first bands to present Jazz in a Rock context. This fact is supported by the band's initial discovery by Decca, playing the Windsor Jazz Festival in August of 1967.
It's hard to say what Timebox would have become if left to their own devices, but all but one member eventually made their way over to Patto, so perhaps that's our best answer. As it is, the guys of Timbox still left behind a handful of great tunes, and a bucketful of songs with great potential.
For a pretty solid part of 2007 and 2008 I couldn't stop playing Timebox's version of the song. I played it when I was getting ready to go out at night, I put it on mix CDs, iPod playlists, and I DJ'ed it relentlessly every time I'd fill in working behind the bar. The song itself is great - nearly a perfect slice of frenetic melody, with a beat that no doubt could have incited the Northern Soul followers to
knock the roof of the Wigan Casino back in the day (which was probably a Saturday). However, what Timebox really brings to the table here is the addition of a really amazing, pulsing vibraphone solo. Band member Ollie Halsall, who was also an incredibly skilled guitar player, rolled out the vibes in several Timebox originals as well as in this memorable cover, and it became a really unique signature in the band's sound.
Unfortunately, as is all too often the tale of woe in the music world, Decca Deram looked upon Timebox as a pop band, rather than the pre-prog/ heavy-psych/jazz-rock band that they were trying to evolve into. As a result, many of their harder and more experimental songs were left unreleased in favor of novelties like "Baked Jam Roll in Your Eye" (recorded as a lark when the boys were three sheets to the wind) and instrumentals like (the still pretty good) "Soul Sauce." Some critics, looking back, have made mention that Timebox might have been one of the first bands to present Jazz in a Rock context. This fact is supported by the band's initial discovery by Decca, playing the Windsor Jazz Festival in August of 1967.
It's hard to say what Timebox would have become if left to their own devices, but all but one member eventually made their way over to Patto, so perhaps that's our best answer. As it is, the guys of Timbox still left behind a handful of great tunes, and a bucketful of songs with great potential.
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