Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Radio Passion

My wildest dreams include working in public radio. (I know, sounds glamorous, eh?) Listening to Terry Gross' Fresh Air, I had a moment. Her guest of the day, a fascinating author, just began crying on air before reading an excerpt from one of his writings. To bring out that much feeling and so much REAL life in an interview amazes me. Oh goodness. These are my dreams, people.

Two Things I Love

Paste Magazine and the Avett Brothers:

"Having conquered every Saturday night music hall and holler between Asheville and Portland, they have made a record that is not just a stab at the mainstream—it’s a harpoon through its sternum. This is not at all a bad thing." -Bart Blasengame's take on the new Avett Brothers for Paste

Air - Love 2

Never has a band’s name fit its sound better than Air, the French electro-pop duo whose music floats effortlessly with sparse arrangements and breathy vocals. Jean-Benoit Dunckel and Nicolas Godin recorded Love 2 in their brand new studio with intentions of capturing more energy and on-the-go composition than ever before. And jump to life it does, with the psychedelic, sparkling chimes of “Sing Sang Sung,” and the wiggling guitar lines of “African Velvet.” The most daring tune, “Be a Bee,” transforms Air into a new beast entirely, with upbeat drum patterns, smart riffage, and croaking robot vocals. Not satisfied with an album of background music, the duo experiments with bumblebee-like walls of sound, chug-a-chug drums, and smatterings of analog keyboards. Most of the album is a sweet ode to women, as the title alludes. “So Light is Her Footfall” claims “she is an angel,” while “Tropical Disease” lets climbing piano scales and glockenspiel work as their very own professions of love. Fans of Air will embrace Love 2 as a great record of soaring love tunes, just in time for the fall breeze. New listeners will have a nice introduction to an evolving band with an always-soothing sound.

Loney Dear/Asobi Seksu, 10/11

In his personal blog, Emil Svan√§ngen compares his relationship with music to others’ relationships with god. The multi-instrumentalist and mastermind of Loney Dear is a self-depricating Swede who says music makes him feel small whenever he thinks about its infinite possibilities. For a guy who made his first few albums in his parents’ basement or other home recording set-ups, his “smallness” has taken him far. Sub Pop released Loney, Noir in 2007, Polyvinyl released Dear John in January, and Svan√§ngen has been touring stateside and abroad for several years with his four band members. His layered pop is packaged into sweet melodies, with chiming bells, sprightly synths, and tender vocals. Loney Dear shares the bill with Asobi Seksu and Anna Ternheim, a beautiful smoky-voiced chanteuse who recently won the Swedish equivalent of a Grammy for Best Newcomer. Asobi Seksu (colloquial Japanese for "casual sex”) will take the show to a wilder level with it’s self-described “psychedelic trance pop.” Vocalist Yuki Chikudate sings in a mix of Japanese and English with crashing cymbals and shoegaze guitars backing her wild yelps. The show starts at 10 p.m. at the Grog Shop.

Comment Nation

I really enjoy reading people's comments on bands, albums, and life in general. People make darn fools out of themselves all day long and I can't help but enjoy laughing at their ridiculousness. I think I'll start collecting some good ones.

Today, comments a new psychedelic band featured on Rollingstone.com called Amazing Baby.

I totally love this band, they’re sort of like the new backstreet boys for me. I used to like pop, but now i only listen to underground music by true artists. -Scott

Its people like Scott who used to like boybands and now like amazing baby that ruin indie music, its clear amazing baby is just another band that relies on their look to sell, that labels are cramming down our throats. THEY ARE TERRIBLE! -Jeff

I would say that the assertion that these guys are somehow rich kids who got a big record deal or that they are riding the coat tails of MGMT is false. Don’t pay any attention to that noise. That may go down in other places, but not in Brooklyn. Weak lamb get devoured by the lion in the concrete jungle the strong stand and rumble the weak fold and crumble, it’s the land of trouble. They’re just talented musicians making interesting, tripped out acid rock and you haters are jealous. -Cast

Hearty laughs.

Monday, September 28, 2009

MUTEMATH - Live Review

There comes a day for any music fan when shitty little clubs and small acoustic shows get a little redundant, no matter how great the bands. Sure, there’s great intensity in a good local rock show, and probably at least a handful of captivating tunes. But given the choice, a performance by U2 or Springsteen is probably going to trump whatever indie band is hitting the circuit that week.

MUTEMATH aspires to be one of those huge bands, despite its short 6-year tenure. When they stepped on to the stage of the House of Blues shortly after 9 Saturday night, yelps and whoops from the crowd signaled an understanding: this was going to be a show to remember. The band set the stage ablaze when it launched into “The Nerve,” one of the newest tunes off Armistice. Strobe lights pulsed with each drum hit as lead vocalist Paul Meany bounced around stage repeatedly crooning, “set it on fire,” keytar in hand. The Raconteurs came to mind when the simple-but-catchy guitar riff of “Backfire” rushed into a squealing solo, only to return to the same catchy-as-hell rip.

The real show really got underway, though, when drummer Darren King put himself in the limelight. Halfway through the set, he set up a cluster of four light-censored drum pads. With each lightening-fast move, King illuminated a piece of its upside-down U shape. Surprisingly, not everything was as fully planned out in advance. On songs like “Burden,” the band broke down into serious jams, integrating jazz, prog rock, a cappella, and even metal into long-stretching songs. The New Orleans band went straight from instrumental mayhem into “Typical,” a souring anthem and fan favorite that has U2 written all over it.

During the encore, King had fans hold up his bass drum so he could stand on top of the crowd Wayne Coyne-style during “Reset,” an experimental juggernaut of a song where Meany did handstands on the keyboard. King ended up ripping the top of one of his drums to shreds, only to feed it to a lucky fan before trotting offstage. However great the ending, MUTEMATH played every song like it was their last. Give this band a million-dollar tour budget and a recording session with Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois, and you might just hit jackpot.

Photo: Jerry Ray

Friday, September 25, 2009

I wasn't too far off...

when I suggested in the post below that Sufjan's new songs sound like a return to Enjoy Your Rabbit.

Lookie here.

Sufjan Stevens - Live Review

Flash-forward to the encore of Sufjan Steven’s sold out show at the Beachland Ballroom last night. Oddball trombone and trumpet solos, haunted house-style synths, and Steven’s ethereal, echoed vocals twisted together in a new concoction that Miles Davis might have thought up, were he zapped 100 years into the future in the midst of an apocalypse. It was wild stuff, and that’s saying something for an artist who gives his songs names like “A Conjunction of Drones Simulating the Way in Which Sufjan Stevens Has an Existential Crisis in the Great Godfrey Maze” and puts together 36-piece multimedia orchestras (his latest project, BQE).

A few songs into the Detroit native’s set, he explained that he would be playing new material “at [the crowd’s] expense” because he was rusty on the old stuff. Backed by a full band (backup vocalist Nedelle Torrisi of opening band Cryptacize, a drummer, bassist, trombone player, and French horn/keyboardist), Stevens launched through an hour-long set that included a handful of songs from Illinois, Michigan, and Seven Swans, as well as four new tunes.

Older numbers like “Jacksonville” and “Casimir Pulaski Day” were sweetly acoustic. Stevens alternated between his banjo and acoustic guitar while Torrisi’s crystal clear harmonies melded with the rich horn section. When fans weren’t busy mouthing the words or screaming proclamations of love for Sufjan, they clasped their hands together over their hearts with joy. The multi-instrumentalist writes songs that are an eclectic mix of everything he’s has ever heard, somehow filtering it all into arrangements so cohesive and glimmeringly beautiful that one wonders why nobody thought of them sooner.

Stevens’ ability to combine genres was spotlighted in his new material. “The Age of Odds” sounded like aliens invading Earth speaking broken English. Noise and distortion clouded the beginning, and it evolved into an experimental masterpiece. Along with much of his newer material, it seemed reminiscent of 2001’s Enjoy Your Rabbit, his abstract instrumental sophomore album (but with vocals and melodies intact). The odder-than-ever-before sounds weren’t crazy enough to scare off the crowd. Beachland employees had to turn on the house lights and point toward the doors after fans spent 10 minutes waiting for a second encore. Who ever said weird wasn’t good?

New Book

I have a great internship. wcpn.org. I saw the new Nick Hornby book on my boss' desk. He was like, "read it. we might do an interview with him."

Yesssss.

It's called Juliet, Naked. Two chapters in, this is my feedback:

It's great for music lovers worldwide. Read it kids.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Honesty on the Internet

I'm not afraid to be honest about the things I enjoy, however embarrassing they may be. (Except for the fact that I really loved Sailor Moon and her theme music growing up..err.. wait..) I'm gonna fess up to being a fan of Twilight. Awful, I know!

The books are terrifyingly cliched, Mormon, whatever whatever. You can dis them all you want, and I will agree. But my brain still tells me that I have a special place for trashy romance novels. Isn't that what they are? Trashy romance novels with fake blood and "abstinence"?

The first Twilight movie was probably the worst thing I saw all year. Yet I loved it! I don't care if everyone in the cast was a horrible actor, nor do I care that it changed the book and left out most of the "flesh" of the plot (pun intended - wow, I am feeling really freakin cheesy today, huh? must be because i stayed up til 3:00 writing my White Rabbits concert review (see below)).

Aaaaaaaaaaanyways, my point is, I love Twilight and everything about it for no apparent reason at all. It figures that I listened to "Bella's Lullabye" by Carter Burwell and "Spotlight" by Mutemath like 100 times continuously after seeing the film. Again, NONSENSICAL. Me, WEIRD.

So, what I'm getting to is this:

1. Death Cab For Cutie – “Meet Me On The Equinox”
2. Band Of Skulls – “Friends”
3. Thom Yorke – “Hearing Damage”
4. Lykke Li – “Possibility”
5. The Killers – “A White Demon Love Song”
6. Anya Marina – “Satellite Heart”
7. Muse – “I Belong To You (New Moon)”
8. Bon Iver and St. Vincent – “Roslyn”
9. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – “Done All Wrong”
10. Hurricane Bells – “Monsters”
11. Sea Wolf – “The Violet Hour”
12. OK Go – “Shooting The Moon”
13. Grizzly Bear – “Slow Life”
14. Editors – “No Sound But The Wind”
15. Alexandre Desplat – “New Moon (The Meadow)”

Track list for New Moon (part two of the saga, for all you haters out there). Now that's a ridiculously rad soundtrack. You cannot deny it! Bon Iver + St. Vincent, together? I die! More Grizzly Bear? I'm already dead! Some moody Death Cab? Put me in my grave already!

This is rave-worthy, don't ya think?

White Rabbits - Live Review

It’s not every day of the week (a Wednesday at midnight, specifically) that you see two drummers sharing a stage and one hell of a percussion set up. After the guitar fuzz cleared, White Rabbits’ dual drummers punched up the first song of the night, their sticks first hitting in unison and then splitting into separate rhythms.

The NYC-by-way-of-Missouri band calls their music “honky tonky calypso,” drawing influences from reggae, ska, and big pop hooks. Perhaps that’s an appropriate categorization, but it’s hard to draw any kind of box around this dramatically unique sextet. When they took the stage at the Grog Shop last night, eyes flickered from one band member to the next in hopes of catching all the action. The problem? Too much to see, not enough eyeballs.

When members of the crowd weren’t “drumming” on their thighs to “The Plot,” off the band’s debut, Fort Nightly, they were nodding in rhythm with the bass on “They Done Wrong/We Done Wrong,” one of the band’s many Spoon-like songs. (That should not come as a huge surprise; Spoon’s Britt Daniel produced It’s Frightening, their latest album, earlier this year after the two bands toured together.) The twinkle of the piano and softly distorted guitars bring the rock to the music, a mix of melodic sweetness and jutting edginess.

What holds everything together throughout, though, is the beat. White Rabbits ended the set with “Percussion Gun,” their very aptly-named single. Alternating bursts of spastic and punchy drumming always sounded incredibly catchy on the album, but feeling and seeing the intensity in person brought the music to life.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

POST 100

In honor of my 100th post to No Mistake in Mixtape, I invite you to join me.

In the next month or so, I will be at all of these shows, in Cleveland.

white rabbits.
ten out of tenn.
japandroids.
langhorne slim.
st. vincent.
loney, dear.
matthew perryman jones.
drummer.
nicole atkins.
dan auerbach/justin townes earle.

Celebrate with me! See a good show!

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Weezer, An Epic Story

While it seems impossible, and improbable at best, Weezer has accomplished it. It is what we call irrelevance. In a manner.

Today is my birthday. I knew I needed a freaking great album for my drive to work today, something that would temporarily subvert the mundane qualities of my everyday life. And today, I looked down at my very limited CD collection (let's face it, I probably need an iPod converter for my car), and AHA! I saw Weezer's Blue Album.

I had just rediscovered that I physically own this album while scoping out my little sister's room for a belt. I found no belt, but I did find some of our joint CD collection. She had them in her room! And she doesn't even live in our house anymore! These babies were abandoned! I promptly snatched Weezer, Rooney, City of Angels, No Doubt, and one more, I forget now. What a Discovery (and I don't mean that duo by Vampire Weekend dude and Ra Ra Riot dude, however awesome it is)!

As I rolled my windows down just slightly, and turned my car speakers up more than slightly, a smile rolled across my face. The smile was simultaneously matched by a ping of guilt. Guilt for my realization that Weezer's discography has taken a serious pitfall in the recent years. So much so, I think, that it might, and I stress might, imply that the older the Weezer record, the better the quality.

Blue is the absolute tops, though. The way the band manages to be slightly rough around the edges but still accomplish that perfect sparkling pop sound. The heavy guitars and the melodic vocals. It sparkles, it shines. It takes no prisoners. It was a relevation. One in which I realized, my ears were pointing me to something right back in middle and high school. It felt good.

Gone are the days of Blue, though, and here to stay are the "Ratitude" years. Collaborations with Max Martin? Collaborations with Outcast? Bejeezus freaking jesuchristo, what is Rivers Cuomo coming to? I never said I wanted uberpolished throwaway pop, guys! Even if it is a little catchy!

In ninth grade (or was it eighth?) I met a girl named Marie. I always said it back then. She was too cool for school. That girl knew music while the rest of us were still grooving to Incubus' "Drive." (But, dude, that song is great.) She loved Weezer. She later introduced me to Wilco, Elliott Smith, Metric. But, point here: she loved Weezer. She had a secret crush on a boy we dubbed "Weezer Boy." (I know! We were creative kids back then.) Yeah. They both loved Weezer. It started as a secret crush, and then a long term relationship involving love of Weezer. These kids were the coolest. What's my point? The cool kids, who were cool before we even knew what cool was, listened to Weezer back then. And now, everyone listens to Weezer. F. My dad listens to Weezer. He calls them Tweezer.

Let's go back in time. Let's live the Blue life again.

Grand Archives - Keep in Mind Frankenstein

Calling a band’s record a sleeper could be a compliment or a backhanded slap. Either it contains a set of songs perfectly poised for sleeping accommodation or it’s a series of seriously boring tunes. Keep in Mind Frankenstein falls into the former category. Mellow acoustic picking and the slow blossom of pedal steel serve as gentle backing for Mat Brooke’s comforting crooning. The Seattle-based band’s sophomore album includes some dark tunes inspired by haunted houses near their recording studio in Index, Washington. “Silent Echo Valley” is one of them. Grand Archives split the song into two parts, and while one is purely instrumental, the other stays true to its title with plenty of reverb. Not to worry, though; a few minor chord progressions wont be enough to turn dreams into nightmares. While keeping pace with the rest of the album, one song that might disrupt sleep patterns is “Left For All the Strays,” with its infusion of tuneful harmonica and egg shakers. Its gorgeous effect is proof that the four members Grand Archives could benefit from a little more spring in their step. For now, sweet dreams.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Owen, Two Years Ago

Notes I took at a Kevin Devine concert two years ago. Opening acts were Andy Hull of Manchester Orchestra and Owen.

Here are my notes about Owen.

I hate him. He’s wearing the same shirt as the last time I saw him a year ago. “I don’t care how you do or don’t your hair. You’re ugly on the inside.” 5th grade? He talked about Dennis Kucinich. But I cannot deny that he has talent and his confidence does him good there. The picking was more well-refined than Hull and his voice seemed more natural and had more flow. As much as I think he’s a cocky, immature little bastard, his show was significantly better than the last time I saw him. I felt at points like I was getting a lecture from my 1st grade teacher about important qualities to look for in friends, how to deal with hurt. It’s like Toy Story with a solid acoustic soundtrack. Guitar was layered like a harp at points. He might be really good in Rent or some musical where you have to tell a story. Jonathan Larson? School of Rock. His lyrics are targeted to 1st graders who drink beer and have sex. Harp-like sessions – could meander through the forest or prance through meadows.


Yup, my notes are not cohesive. And yup, as much as it disappoints my friends, I'm not exactly an Owen fan. Sorry dude. I still admire you... or somethin'.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

A Quote

"The latest BMSR album is like a well-thought classy record for my standards, and I don’t think of myself as quite that classy."
- Tobacco

Sunday, September 13, 2009

The Twilight Sad - Forget the Night Ahead

While recording their second album, Forget the Night Ahead, The Twilight Sad used everything from distortion pedals to the smacking of fire distinguishers to cloak the record in haze. If you cut through all that fuzz and distortion, you start hearing really dark messages. Themes of guilty consciences, the sad realities of prostitution, and the tragedy of losing loved ones infiltrate the album, a twisted storybook of frontman James Graham’s experiences. What it really comes to, though, is the music to which the lyrics are cast. “Ultimately we wanted to make a record that is big, and noisy as fuck,” explained Graham. The Kilsyth, Scotland band succeeded, piecing together eleven songs that are as tuneful as they are loud. Though “Scissors” is an evolving wall of noise, the majority of Forget evokes the feel of The Cure and other late ‘70s goth rock. “Reflection of the Television” bounces with rubbery bass, echoed drum hits, and Graham’s deep, controlled vocals. The mostly instrumental “Floorboards Under the Bed” would be Chris Martin’s wet dream if he could tame the cacophonous electric guitar that shrouds creepy minor-key piano clunking. Most of us keep a fire distinguisher handy to put out flames; The Twilight Sad uses theirs to keep ‘em burning.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Sufjan Stevens to Wow Cleveland

Tickets for Sufjan Stevens’ Beachland Ballroom show went on sale about a month ago. Three days and hundreds of fans later, a banner appeared on the venue’s website. SOLD OUT! Who are we to be surprised? Possibly the most interesting and musically talented man in the acoustic indie genre today, Stevens is known for putting on an amazing show. Strapped into butterfly wings and letterman sweaters, the handsome, light-eyed multi-instrumentalist reinterprets orchestrated masterpieces from a string of albums that range from his electronica debut, Enjoy Your Rabbit, to the banjo twang of songs on Illinois. Some of his more legendary gigs have paired the Michigan native with legends (the Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra) and large ensembles (his recent multimedia BQE project included a small band, a wind and brass ensemble, strings, horns, and hula hoopers – 36 performers in all). This year, the dude’s cooling off a little on a tour through smaller clubs through the East Coast and Midwest. Fans will relish the twisted beauty of “John Wayne Gacy, Jr,” a soft piano/guitar ballad about the serial killer, and sing along with the joyous horn-laden “Chicago.”

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Miscellaneous Thoughts

I really, truly, might have a raging love for Sufjan Stevens. It's sacrilegious that I forgot about him for so long. (Two years = too long.) On a related note, a recent youtube comment on one of his videos is as follows: "I love Sufjan. I love Jesus more tho! I love Jesus even more for making Sufjan! and for making music. yay Jesus!" Not to be judgmental, but that might be taking things a little too far, even in my book. (Ok, I'll be a little judgmental.)
***
Is it strange that I have taken a very strong liking to select Lupe Fiasco tracks? (Namely "Go Go Gadget Flow" - it combines my childhood respect for Inspector Gadget with contemporary prose and ridiculous flow.)
***
The Faint's "Mirror Error" is playing my iPod on repeat. First of all, let's dissect the title. When I read it, I envision a robot face looking into a high-tech mirror that won't show the robot its real face. Instead, it just flashes "mirror error" in digitized red letters. The robot is confused and then throws the mirror to the ground. The pairing of words sounds great, evokes sci-fi weirdness, and is just plain cool. Rave done. The song is just as good as the title... it's super future, with fast, distorted beats and jumpy falsetto-tech vocals. I die and must jump around like a maniac every time I hear it. (Sadly, my discovery of this song is a little shameful. Yes, I tracked it down from a Gossip Girl episode. One where a dude was banging his high school teacher. And with that admittance, I have forever shamed myself as a watcher of bad television. Which - I swear - I'm not! (usually)
***
Seriously, still dying over Sufjan over here. Cleveland show is sold out and I'm either (a) clawing my eyes out in guilt for not buying tickets that first day, (b) praying to the publicity gods that someone will get me on the press list, or (c) singing nonsensical harmonies to "Jacksonville" while I walk around my house with a droopy head and big, foamy headphones (a prerequisite for any music brat like myself).

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Volcano Choir - Unmap

Like most of Justin Vernon’s recordings under the pseudonym Bon Iver, his latest work is best listened to in isolation. Vernon’s musical experimentation with members of Wisconsin’s Collections of Colonies of Bees brings us Unmap, a stark bunch of loopy, synthed out tracks. Like his solo work, the album is a mastery of the heartbreak king’s layered vocals. His warming, heart-wrenching falsetto rings out in harmonic choruses. Unlike Bon Iver, the music follows no pattern or conscious tempo, and guitar is not the instrument of choice. “Island, Is,” the first single, is the most accessible track; looped beats and melodies circle round Vernon’s howls in the coolest oddball tune since Grizzly Bear’s “Two Weeks.” On the opposite side of the spectrum is “Youlogy,” a freakily beautiful song with a melody similar to “Amazing Grace” and jarring gong hits (take heed when driving – they sound like beeping horns). “Still” is a fleshed out version of Bon Iver’s “Woods” that builds to an immense buzz and gently fizzes out. Unmap puts an eerie, unexpected twist on songs ranging from ambient to acoustic. One experiment not to try: throwing a party to this music. It’s a headphones album.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

I Could Smile All Day

Sometimes you get emails that make your day.

Hello Danielle

Hope you had a great holiday weekend.

let me know if you're interested in checking out The Black Hollies tomorrow 9/9 at Beachland Tavern. Would love to have you out to see them. They'll be playing songs from their new soon to be released album Softly Towards The Light.
http://www.myspace.com/theblackhollies

Seriously? On the guest list, just for fun? I wish this was my life, every day.

The Dodos - Time to Die

Pulsating syncopation and scattered rhythms have always been the cornerstone of the Dodos’ music, a strangely attractive sonic device that sucks in the listener. Time to Die is no exception. Logan Kroeber’s frenetic drumbeats guide the jagged finger picking of vocalist/guitarist Meric Long. This time, however, the duo has added a third member; Keaton Snyder laces electric vibraphone into many of the songs. The additional instrument doesn’t really change the Dodos’ fundamental sound, but the songwriting has evolved. 2008’s Visiter captured a visceral primitiveness, while Time to Die has a more polished, grander sound. This might be partly attributed to Phil Ek (producer to Fleet Foxes and the Shins), who sat behind the boards on the session. Unfortunately, the vibrancy and urgency that makes the Dodos such a force of nature seems to be missing from many of the songs. “Fables” sticks to a basic thump-a-thump-thump throb, and “Acorn Factory” is a pretty but forgettable tune. Textural energy still shines through in “This is a Business,” where feverish drumming builds and abruptly stops, only to come back to life furiously. Long’s layered harmonies and classical guitar picking are still intriguing, but the band’s missing arrhythmic pulse leaves something to be desired.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Japandroids - Post-Nothing

Woaaaaah, we used to dream... now we worry about dyin'...

The ecstatic joy I feel when I listen to this album is comparable to a very parallel pit of misery and dread. When the fuzz takes over, and the guitars are blaring like sirens, and all the lyrics are shouted messily, I lose myself to a sense of recklessness. Something about the quality of the recording (shit, in a good way) and the energy (imagine pulsing strobe lights and sweaty young 20-somethings in some rank, dingy dive bar) is perfection. I usually reserve that particular descriptor to shiny powerpop or shimmering vocal harmonies. But this is perfection in a new way - the kind that grows from its own flaws.

"Young Hearts Spark Fire" plays on my iPod on repeat. Deep within myself, desires for a simpler time crawl out of my ears. Nights of no sleep, drinking and puking and just not caring. Oblivion. Spontaneity. Ears ringing. Thirst.

"Wet Hair" is a pure ode to selfish, lusty adventure.

She had wet hair
Say what you will
I don't care
I couldn't resist it

These girls are raw
Bikini girl
We need a ride to Bikini Island

We want them common
Let's get to France
So we can French kiss some French girls


Japandroids are smart, despite vapid lyrics and the occasional shallow desire. They combine in a unique way. First, there are movable guitar lines, melodic and sweet and edgy. The vocals always repeat, not only the same words, but the same notes. Great for shouting along, even if you can't sing. Heavy drums, thump-a-thump, cymbals everywhere, like a circus.

What's more, everything is done in like-i-give-a-shit style. Messy. Lo-fi. Cool enough for the too-cool kids. Musical enough for the rest of us. A mistake? Maybe. Brilliant? Probably.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

I Used to Think Marilyn Manson Was Scary...


Now I just think he's mad.

And absolutely, without a doubt, fascinating.