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:
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
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.
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