No Mistake in Mixtape

Get Fucking Happy.

2012-02-13T10:40:00.002-05:00

Heartbreak sucks. That's why I'm all about mixtapes. You don't have to be miserable to enjoy this one.

Get Fucking Happy.

Brendan Benson - What Kind of World

2012-02-05T13:53:00.003-05:00

Questioning his taste in women, how happy he is, and What Kind of World we live in, Brendan Benson reveals some of the demons that keep him up at night. Lyrically inquisitive as his fifth full-length may be, unrehearsed it is not. By this time, Benson knows how to plan each power pop gem meticulously, with rhymed couplets and verse-chorus-verses that fall into one another magnetically like sticky fingers and cotton candy. Singing about the green-eyed beauty of his dreams, he melds phrases like “taste of blood upon my lips/the heaven’s sway of your teenage hips” together, making his poetry feel like a passing whimsy.

But what makes What Kind of World Benson’s best album since 2002’s Lapalco is the varied nature of the songs. Stepping out of the cookie-cutter orchestrated pop mold of his last two albums, he tries new wave and Broadway ballad on for size. The title track is an example of the former, which might turn the head of The Cars’ Ric Ocasek, while his balls-out crooning in “Bad for Me” is an over-the-top drama worthy of Elton John fans. Ashley Monroe adds adorable country twang on the folky duet, “On the Fence.” Album highlight, “Happy Most of the Time,” is an infectious earworm of bass growl and jumpy guitar jangle. All in all, it’s Benson’s finest yet—no question in that.

Craig Finn - Honolulu Blues

2012-01-16T21:20:00.000-05:00

If you're into the Hold Steady, maybe you'll here more of a difference between Craig Finn's solo work and that of the band. But as far as I can tell, many of their great elements are still alive here. Finn's distinctive tone, his storybook lyrics, and a solid rock and roll groove fuel "Honolulu Blues" with a rough and tumble feel. His full-length, Clear Heart Full Eyes, comes out at the end of the month on Vagrant.

Craig Finn - Honolulu Blues

La Sera - Please Be My Third Eye

2012-01-15T21:02:00.000-05:00

Quick, snappy, and infectious, "Please Be My Third Eye" feels like a tune for blasting in your car with the windows down. Or possibly the first track on your workout playlist. Simple but catchy riffs and a sing-a-long anthemic chorus that you'll enjoy upon first listen.

La Sera is the solo effort of Katy Goodman of Vivian Girls. I've never taken the time to listen to them, but now I will!

La Sera - Please Be My Third Eye

The Babies - Trouble

2012-01-14T20:10:00.000-05:00

Laying in bed, surrounded by pictures of The Beatles and daisies, under a mess of blankets, all snuggled up. It's home, troubles are for yesterday, and today's about leisure.

That's what I wish for when I hear "Trouble" by The Babies. It's a twee, spare little number, full of squiggly guitars and faraway vocals. Nothing is trying too hard. Nothing is stretched beyond its limits. It's quaint and it's tiny. It's not fully developed, nor does it wish to be. It's perfectly enjoyable for a short while. And then it's done.

The Babies - Trouble

The Babies are playing with Real Estate at the Beachland Ballroom on January 21st. I wish I was home!

Dirty Three - Rising Below

2012-01-13T20:05:00.003-05:00

Three dirty dudes. Mick Turner. Jim White. Warren Ellis. No vocals, just the kind of slow, building atmospherics that make your heart swell and your head explode at the possibilities. These three have released albums together, but this is the first in seven years. And in the meantime, they've been working with awesome people like Bill Callahan and Cat Power.

Sit back, close your eyes, and don't do a thing. Just listen.

Dirty Three - Rising Below

The Black Keys - El Camino

2011-11-29T11:49:00.003-05:00

Barely stopping to catch a breath, The Black Keys’ Patrick Carney and Dan Auerbach bum rush through El Camino like cats in heat. The high-octane guitar, organ, drums and even bells and chimes all seem to move together, surging forward in adrenaline-riddled spurts. While the duo has always attributed their rhythmic focus to their mutual love for old hip-hop and R&B, these songs were dipped in pure rock and roll. “Money Maker” is hearkens to the bluesy side, while “Little Black Submarines” slowly builds from an acoustic ballad a la Blitzen Trapper to fuzzy metal riffage. Album opener, “Lonely Boy,” is the best of the bunch, a rollicking good time with raw edges. It’s as danceable as anything they’ve ever done.

Lamenting love gone wrong on nearly every song, the subject matter is nothing new. But it’s what these two do best, and when Auerbach howls “she's bound to break ya" on "Money Maker," you want to shake the hand of the gold digger who inspired such fiery feelings. "All this love of mine/And all my precious time/You'll waste it 'cause you/Don't know what you want," goes "Nova Baby," one of the few songs where Auerbach takes his guitar for a high-flying solo. Sometimes the lyrics swing and miss, like the gag moment on "Run Right Back," where Auerbach cries "She doesn't read too much/But there's no doubt/She's been written about/Finest exterior/She's so superior."

With the stinging attitude and upbeat grooves, though, El Camino surpasses all of its sad-sack tendencies. Each song is it's own piece of soulful groove. Throttling forward at full-force, this is The Black Keys’ most direct and consistent album yet. With the new audience the two have garnered from 2010’s Brothers, expect to hear these songs on everything from car commercials to the nearly extinct rock radio. There isn’t a bad song in the bunch, nor a moment to relax until you’ve ingested El Camino in full.

Washed Out - Within and Without

2011-11-23T13:16:00.002-05:00

A few words on why you should listen to one of my favorite albums of the year:

More like blissed out. Within and Without captures the feeling of complete and pure contentment, and Ernest Greene holds onto this perfect state for more than forty minutes. Airy synthesizers wash over bloated beats, while his echoed vocals stretch over layers of gooey reverb. It’s a flawless dream, come to life.

Dr. Dog - Be the Void

2011-11-21T14:20:00.001-05:00

In their most rockin’ album to date, Dr. Dog comes down from the clouds to unfurl their breezy pop from the ground. Infusing bluesy notes on “Lonesome,” and a high-pitched guitar riff on “How Long Must I Wait” that wouldn’t sound out of place on the last Black Keys album, the Philadelphia quintet finds a more distinct groove. The biting phrase “You destroy all that’s good here/at your will/there’s a part of me though that/loves you still,” comes out like venom on “Vampire,” a mid-tempo number where the narrator can’t help but be seduced by the evil monster in question. Much of the album has the same bite, thanks to its percussive jab that feels indebted to Elvis Costello.

Of course, as is always a highlight of Dr. Dog’s music, beautiful harmonies float like feathers atop frontman Scott McMicken’s punctuated vocals. “Do, do, do, trick, tr’ trick,” echoes through “Do the Trick” like doo wop making sweet love to The Beach Boys.

While 2010’s Shame, Shame took Dr. Dog on a more reflective, gloomier journey, Be the Void is the band’s reemergence into its escapist tendencies. The common ground lies in the glossy production, a far cry from early lo-fi recordings. It suits them, especially on “Heavy Light,” a foray into the islandy afro-pop popular with bands like Givers and Friendly Fires.

Seventies psychedelia chimes through the trippy “Warrior Man” and album closer “Turning the Century” (is that a sitar?). “Big Girl” is an epic barnburner that starts with a jagged guitar groove and culminates in the sort of keyboard-heavy climax that makes dreams come true. If these songs translate live, tour dates supporting Be the Void could be the most raucous we’ve seen Dr. Dog yet. It’s gonna be a fun ride.

Real Estate, I Love You

2011-11-04T11:22:00.003-04:00

Dogs, grandma glasses, and guitars sunny enough to fit on a Fleet Foxes record? Goddammit, my love of hipsters has been renewed! This song, but really, the whole album (Days) is one of those that you can overplay times a billion, and still feel perfectly serene at each listen. It is gummy, glowing pop music with the perfect warmth. I could wrap myself in this music and all of a sudden everything in my life would come together in perfect harmony.

It may have a bit of a Rogue Wave vibe, and so maybe it's not groundbreaking. Maybe I'm settling into my old age (24, so freakin old guys, my back hurts) and I don't need avant garde controversy in my brain. Maybe I just want to sit and listen to a song called "Kinder Blumen" because the title reminds me of smurfs and it's the kind of instrumental that needs no explanation in it's simple, repetitive glory. It's a less harsh Avi Buffalo with the same level of heart. And that bridge!

If you're looking for some comfort music that's guaranteed to up your day, check this out. It's undeniable, the reece's pieces to my candy-loving self. You're going to want to be friends with these guys. Because how can they make it seem so easy to chill out perfectly?

Fanzine - Roman Holiday

2011-10-31T13:15:00.002-04:00

What a way to start a Monday. Fuzzy, jangly, and what a hook. It should come as no surprise that Fanzine has been touring with bands like Yuck and The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. Two of the current bands with the ability to look back to the nineties without getting too cliche or being unoriginal. Fanzine is in the same pocket of awesomeness--a little guitar soloing, a little excess reverb, a lot of heart. This single is coming out November 22nd on Fat Possum.

Roman Holiday by Fanzine

Wavves - Life Sux EP

2011-10-15T12:22:00.000-04:00

The guys in Wavves are like your immature younger brothers, fooling around with a drum set and some guitars in the basement, annoying everyone in the house. But then one day, you actually go downstairs, and realize that the noise they’ve been making for all these years is quite tuneful, and you’re going to be humming these songs for the rest of the month.

The Life Sux EP takes the raucous energy found on certain tracks on King of the Beach, and instead of interspersing them with chilled-out lo-fi nuggets, retains a hefty punch for six consecutive tracks. The band is scoring the soundtrack for the new MTV series, “I Just Want My Pants Back” with songs like Life Sux’s “I Wanna Be Dave Grohl,” a growling gut-punch with a hooky chorus that’s going to plant the Foo Fighters’ frontman in the brains of kids across the country.

But the band is best here when mixing the murky roar of grunge music with the melodies of Oasis on “Poor Lenore,” a song that, like “Post Acid” on predecessor King of the Beach, is going to take hundreds of listens before getting old. Frontman Nathan Williams gets help from his girlfriend Bethany Cosentino of Best Coast on the beachy “Nodding Off,” and members of Fucked Up contribute their signature metal howls on “Destroy,” a fast-paced garage rock rumble. Perfect for the basement, the sleazy dive bar, and now, even the television.

Ben Folds - The Best Imitation of Myself: A Retrospective

2011-10-14T12:18:00.000-04:00

In the first anthology of Ben Folds' career, the man behind the piano peels back some of the mysteries behind his brilliant songwriting, and listeners will have a hell of a time exploring the journey. The Best Imitation of Myself is available as an 18-song album or a 3-album set, including one with Folds’ greatest hits, another that stitches together his best live performances, and a B-sides and rarities disc. Best, though, are the extensive liner notes detailing the story behind each song, from “artfully ripping off” Elton John (“Zak and Sara”) to making lyrics out of his ex-wife’s bitter letters to him (“Smoke”). It’s a joy to get a sense of the person behind such heartfelt, often hilarious musical narratives, all while enjoying a well-tailored collection of songs spanning from his early years in Ben Folds Five to three brand new recordings made for this retrospective. “Tell Me What I Did” fits right in with the playful synth blasts on Rockin’ the Suburbs, “Stumblin’ Home Winter Blues” is a slow, sweet serenade, and “House” is painful nostalgia, on par with Folds’ best melodies. The joyous playfulness of Folds’ live improvisation, reflected in this set in full measure, is a true testament to what makes him an unstoppable force and ever-evolving artist.

Deer Tick - Divine Providence

2011-10-13T12:15:00.000-04:00

For a rock band that prides itself on lighting dollar bills on fire inside their mouths in the middle of live shows, you would expect Deer Tick to strike forth with an album full of barnburners. Their purported badassery falls short, especially on “Now It’s Your Turn,” where John McCauley sounds more like a whiny Keane than Jagger as he pours his heart out to the girl who broke his. They make up for it with beer-soaked tirades (“Let’s All Go to the Bar,” “The Bump”) and growling licks atop loose-cannon percussion (“Main Street”). Best of all is “Make Believe,” a mid-tempo rocker with guitar solos that croak to perfection and imagery so believable that listeners actually might imagine themselves inside the “you cheated on me” narrative.

Fleet Foxes Live Review - Louisville Palace

2011-10-12T12:24:00.002-04:00

Fleet Foxes at The Louisville Palace, Louisville, KY, October 5th, 2011

The Louisville Palace is covered with ornate sculpture, and when you look up at the ceiling, you are immersed in a replica of the night sky, glowing stars shining down on the crowd. Yet when Fleet Foxes took the stage, their three- and four-part harmonies danced through their performance like rays of sunshine. Each note was incredibly tailored to perfection, yet effortlessly blended. There were moments that night where nothing—nothing—could pull you down.

As Robin Pecknold reminded us of strawberries in summertime in the echoed chorus of “White Winter Hymnal,” the gentle melodic guitars and cymbal-heavy percussion set the scene for a night of simple joys. Songs like “Battery Kinzie” and “Lorelai” were heavy on the guitar, at times covering up Pecknold’s liquid-clear crooning. But the blend of each of the six members’ instruments was most often on point, displaying a seamless sense of solidarity amongst the band.

Songs from the their second full-length album, Helplessness Blues, gave Fleet Foxes a chance to show off more of their musical prowess. “Sim Sala Bim” climaxed with an incredibly vivacious guitar hootenanny. But the crowd still went wild for the breezy folk tunes off the band’s self-titled debut. “Ragged Wood” incited howling from members of the audience in an effort to join the band in harmony, while the anthemic “Your Protector” stood its ground against the newer, more complex songs like “The Shrine/An Argument.”

When Pecknold came onstage to begin the encore alone, he stressed that he was dedicating “I Let You,” a new song, to the passing that day of legendary folk musician Bert Jansch.

“If you haven’t heard of Bert Jansch, don’t worry,” Pecknold explained, “Go to iTunes. Buy everything he’s ever done.”

The rest of the band joined Pecknold for the final three songs of the encore, “Sun It Rises,” crowd favorite “Blue Ridge Mountains,” and “Helplessness Blues.” All three songs served as a good representation of what made that night’s performance so unforgettable. Each sounded uniquely beautiful, and exuded power. This power, an overwhelming force, was not achieved through volume or effects, but a carefully-arranged layering of sounds, a wholly creative web of interwoven guitar, keyboard, rhythm and harmony.

Van Dyke Parks opened the show in his third performance alongside Fleet Foxes. Like Jansch, Pecknold couldn’t stop fawning over the vast influence Parks has had on the band. If you didn’t know about the connection between the two very disparate musical acts, you may not have ever suspected that Parks played such a strong role in shaping Fleet Foxes’ sound. His twinkling piano and rambling lyrics took us back to a different era in music. When he wasn’t singing about his favorite president (FDR), his chorus-less showtunes dealt with treacherous weather in Los Angeles.

Parks’ work as a producer and arranger has spanned decades, from his time working with the Beach Boys to Joanna Newsom. His blunt performance was stark and bold next to that of the Fleet Foxes, who keep their stage banter to a minimum.

Walking out of the Palace, into another blue, starry sky, it was almost a disappointment to step out of the breezy, artificial musical paradise, and back into the real world. But the next morning, when the sun shined through the clouds, the airy melodies playing back in my head were still as crisp as the autumn day.

Set List:

1. Plains/Bitter Dancer
2. Mykonos
3. English House
4. Battery Kinzie
5. Bedouin Dress
6. Sim Sala Bim
7. Your Protector
8. White Winter Hymnal
9. Ragged Wood
10. Montezuma
11. He Doesn’t Know Why
12. Lorelai
13. The Shrine/An Argument
14. Blue Spotted Tail
15. Grown Ocean

Encore:
16. I Let You
17. Sun It Rises
18. Blue Ridge Mountains
19. Helplessness Blues

Real Estate - Days

2011-10-12T12:07:00.004-04:00

I'm bringing back the blog. It's been a while, guys.

Real Estate's new album has me in a trance. Let's just say I'm sitting here at my desk with wet hair, a towel on my head, and my legs won't allow me to stand up and walk away from this computer. Because who knew Real Estate could totally rip on early Rogue Wave's blissful floating guitar riffs, or make me feel like I'm trapped in a room full of cotton candy and gumdrops? This is the sweetest, most sticky pop music I have heard in months.

Just when I think the next song cannot be as good as the last, it gets better. Although, nothing is quite better than "It's Real," which is rightfully the first single (I think). I wish I could dance around with ribbons (remember ribbon dancing?) and roll down huge grassy hills with this music soundtracking my pure stupidity. Instead, I'm working on balancing my checkbook. But it gives my finances a syrupy feeling of goodness, even if the numbers don't agree.

Guys! You can even go listen to this for free at NPR. I'll be back soon with an actual review, once I've gotten over my puppy love, and can start to appreciate the finer details.

Ski Lodge - I Would Die to Be

2011-08-31T20:37:00.002-04:00

I'm gonna take a break from my continuous 24 hours of Ben Folds joyous listening party (look for a review on his new greatest hits collection soon!) to show you this song. It reminds me of The Drums, but a lot less annoying. Little surf guitar riffs, easygoing vocals, and just generally the kind of song that you can just put on repeat while you pretend you're sitting on the sidewalk on a sunny day with a vanilla milkshake, talking to your best friend on the phone. You know, the kind of thing you do all the time (not).

Ski Lodge - I Would Die To Be by Dovecote Records

St. Vincent - Strange Mercy

2011-08-26T16:09:00.003-04:00

All of St. Vincent’s best qualities are still inherent on Strange Mercy—the juxtaposition of screeching, dirty guitar blasts and angelic vocal melodies, the layers of swirling synthesizers, and the propensity to make heads bob. But there’s also jazz fusion madness (the climax of “Surgeon”), heavy metal fizz (“Dilettante”), and menacing couplets atop languid beats (“Year of the Tiger”). It makes for a complex web of an album, even more challenging than the dreamlands frontwoman and songwriter Annie Clark pieced together on her first two albums. “Cruel” is a treat, all grooving bass and spacey vocals. The band envisions the marimba as a bright undertone to Clark’s guitar shredding, rather than the quirky-cute foil. The subject matter on Strange Mercy is mostly grim, painting feelings of betrayal and protest, coupled with an immediate angst. “They could take or leave you, so they took you, and they left you,” Clark croons flatly. These grim stories are told in an entirely unique manner, in a symphonic style that’s uniquely St. Vincent’s. At times, the layers feel cluttered and claustrophobic. Yet the second half of the album is less noisy, with songs like “Champagne Year” quietly sliding by with muddled drums and slow-building synths. It’s the highs and lows, the harsh and posh, the heavy and heavenly—that juxtaposition—that makes Strange Mercy both expected and entirely unbelievable.

p.s. ridiculous. i can't even...

Gem Club - Twins

2011-08-25T13:13:00.003-04:00

Simple and meditated, beautiful yet haunting. This is a song for the ages, a universal sad sigh, a long look backward, and a hesitant glance to the future. A drawn-out goodbye, a musical sponge, absorbing every last drop of a powerful memory, flaws and all.

It's the heaving chest, heartbeats slowing, aching for what should have been.

"Just your touch could cure my lonesome blood," it goes, slowly, pain rolled up into the piano in a hollow room, footsteps echoing from the wooden planks of the floor. Ending as it begins, jarring chords slightly altered, a slow descent into a new chapter.

Gem Club - Twins by hardlyartrecords

Lana Del Ray - Video Games

2011-08-22T17:57:00.000-04:00

Beautiful and understated.

Beirut's Uncanny Nostalgia Trips

2011-08-12T13:17:00.003-04:00

Nothing transports me quite like Beirut. Oftentimes, while listening to their music, I'm taken to foreign countries, pieces of my ancestry, a time before I existed. And, more often then not, into my own memories.

Listening to March of the Zapotec, I'm back in the Appalachian hills of Athens. I don't pack myself dinners for work, and I have no idea that I'm capable of a half-marathon. Life is uncertain, and the moments are more important than the end goal. Well, not really, I always was that kinda girl who's concerned about the future. But the moments, there were plenty.

I did best when I slept til 9, squeezed in bike rides between classes, never forgot to set my alarm. I never knew who I was going to meet that night, or where I'd end up.

Life is now routine, I pack my dinners, and my job requirement of listening to police scanners for 9 straight hours has lessened my desire for late nights of music listening. I come home. I want silence. It takes something pretty strong to waken my senses.

Beirut's new album, The Rip Tide, has already struck me with it's grandness. It could make me cry, its unabashed horns and bold gestures. It takes you to a place... a place more important than the current minute inner-workings of your world. Wall Street is a set of two words, and I don't even know what unemployment numbers mean -- let's just hold hands and forget about it for a few minutes.

The electronic effects we first heard Zack Condon release with Holland, the previously unreleased solo bedroom project that made up the second half of the March of the Zapotec album, sneak into songs like "Santa Fe." But halfway through the song, they're hidden beneath a behemoth of ringing trumpets. It's the best of both worlds. Very human in the midst of the technology Condon's unleashing.

The strum of acoustics on "East Harlem" is so twee and special sounding, like it was dreamed up for a child's birthday party. Condon's deep vibrato could pop the biggest balloon at the party.

Not a song in this collection is anything but beautiful and unique, a web of shimmering gems in a sea of Odd Future horribleness and Kanye West's ego. It so far transcends the moment in which it has been captured, just nine songs drawing strength from the beauty of their instruments played to the highest caliber.

Maybe it's not as grand as I'm making it out to be, but it's so easy to get lost in these moments, forgetting about the all-consuming, at-times horrifying details of everyday life. And getting lost in the moments can be more valuable than... well, anything.

Peter Wolf Crier - Garden of Arms

2011-08-08T22:49:00.001-04:00

On their sophomore release, the Minneapolis-based duo adds a few new tricks to the haunting intimacy they know best. A cloudy layer of ambient noise disorients in “Right Away,” and heartbeat percussion punctuates high-octane guitar growls in “Krishnamurti.” “Beach” captures magic dust with a rainstick and lonely guitar. Just when you think it’s going to be a simple, pleasing piece of pop simplicity, standard time signatures are thrown to the wind and another contrasting guitar noodle adds new color. But Garden of Arms lacks the shuffling melodies and stark homemade craftwork of the band’s debut.

Neon Indian - Era Extraña

2011-07-25T14:04:00.002-04:00

Summer is all about low-maintenance. It’s throwing on the lightest clothes you own, and getting from one place to the next with the least bit of effort, avoiding the sweaty mess the blaring sunlight will leave if you’re not careful. The weave of beats and smooth melodic tension of Era Extraña replicate the sluggish pulse of those hot summer days. Synthesizers creep across one another, splattering into bright, colorful patterns that sometimes feel more like interludes than songs. This is music best absorbed through lazy limbs. The target is less about provoking thought, and more about the instantaneous feelings it provokes.

Alan Palomo, the one-man band behind it all, is known as one of the pioneers of the chillwave genre. But Palomo could care less about labels, happier to spend his time tinkering with delay pedals and distortion kits, and finding inspiration in everything from Japanese electronica to the psychedelic pop of The Flaming Lips, who he collaborated with earlier this year.

Old-school video games come to mind with the bright, bumbling start of “Future Sick,” where Palomo’s voice echoes behind synth squalls coated with vibrato. More beautiful is the short, sweet “Heart: Decay,” the second of a three song set (“Heart: Attack” and “Heart: Release” open and close the album) that carries a nostalgic theme throughout. “Hex Girlfriend” and “Halogen (I Could Be a Shadow)” are spitfires with infectious choruses, while the title track screams ‘80s so loud that John Hughes protégés are squirming in their seats.

Neon Indian’s gauzy textures, circular rhythms, and light-as-air choruses are a pleasure. Long past beach weather, Era Extraña will take listeners on a virtual picnic, a sonic reality so plush and immersive that it’s enough to bat away the snow in your eyelashes and the bitter winds. Like summer heat, Era Extraña radiates with enough passion to make life more than a little woozy.

NEON INDIAN - HEART : DECAY from gorillavsbear.net on Vimeo.

The Rapture - In the Grace of Your Love

2011-06-16T12:32:00.001-04:00

DFA White Out Sessions - How Deep Is Your Love? by The Rapture from DFA Records on Vimeo.

Dance records are typically coated in layer after layer of sound, tracks of synth piled atop one another like a cake with so much icing that it oozes through the sides. The Rapture doesn’t subscribe to that philosophy. They never have. An undone quality washes over their songs, giving them some edge. “Come Back to Me” sets the dance party underground, in the sewers, where you can hear the water dripping between the sparse beats. What sounds like a street musician playing an accordion on a pitch-black night is adorned only by a series of hollow club beats and sets of lyrics where meaning is lost among the repetition. The title track has a similar simplicity, a sexy bass groove guiding a three-note keyboard pattern and frosty cymbal-heavy drumming. It builds to a climax, only to end with weakened vocals and a barely-there electronics. “Never Gonna Die Again” and “How Deep is Your Love” use the less-is-more format to The Rapture’s benefit, crafting hip-moving grooves that spring alive in all their disco glory. Elsewhere, however, The Grace of Your Love feels like a shell of a former dance party, bare and echoing through an empty room. There’s a demo-like quality on these songs instead of the immediacy required for total immersion. The album closes with “It Takes Time to Be a Man,” a slow-moving ballad that moves too slow with too little emotion. If growing into men is what this trio is attempting, they may be better off reverting to childish ways. Gone is the cowbell-crazy spontaneity that pounds through “House of Jealous Lovers” and “Whoo! Alright Yeah...Uh Huh.” Put this cake back in the oven; it doesn’t need more icing, but it could use more substance.

YACHT - Shangri-La

2011-06-10T14:26:00.001-04:00

YACHT wastes no time letting their freak flag fly on Shangri-La. Opening with the one-two punch of “Utopia” and “Dystopia,” we’re taken from a hyperactive alien frolic, complete with bass on speed, to glitchy synths and end-of-the-world incantations, like “the earth is on fire/we don’t have no daughter/let the motherfucker burn.” Heavy statements are made into weightless fun with musical spontaneity that owes as much to the B-52’s oddball humor as it does to Of Montreal’s digital-future vibe. YACHT was originally the brainchild of Jona Bechtolt, but this is his second album (of five) featuring Claire Evans. It’s also the second on James Murphy’s DFA label, which is why it’s not surprising that Shangri-La is plastered with mantras and continuous trance-like beats that bring to mind Murphy’s LCD Soundsystem. “Beam Me Up” may or may not be a Star Trek reference, but when the fiery chorus begins, all nerdy references are excused by electro-funk madness. YACHT comes back down to earth on the title track, which closes the album with flat vocals, sixties sway, and an acknowledgment that “if I can’t go to heaven, let me go to LA.”

Blitzen Trapper - American Goldwing

2011-06-09T13:26:00.000-04:00

Blitzen Trapper is walking with a little more twang in their step on their sixth full-length. As the Portland-based sextet ages, so does their sound. American Goldwing may as well have been released in the early ’70s along with The Allman Brothers Band’s Eat a Peach. The stories here are the stuff of swamp rock legend; characters are drinking too much whiskey late at night, fantasizing about loving or leaving the finest women in town, returning home, and piecing together the wonders of the natural world.

Eric Earley, the band’s songwriter and frontman, has always piled his literary influences on heavy, drawing from Ernest Hemingway, John Steinbeck, the Bible, and old mythology. Never before has it fit so cleanly with the sonic undertones. “Love the Way You Walk Away” mesmerizes with subtle harmonies, swirls of pedal steel guitar, and choruses that swing as easy as a spring breeze. Earley sums up detailed narratives with clever couplets like, “When you find what you’re looking for/you want it less” without turning up clichés.

“Street Fighting Sun” takes a page from Jack White’s menacing guitar lurches. It’s pure grime, heaving with powerful stamina through groove after groove. Otherwise, Blitzen Trapper is more focused on the country drawl of the harmonica, steady putter of percussion, and the occasional old-timey piano tinkering. It makes for a solid album, if a fairly uneventful one. Nothing on American Goldwing is as memorable as the title track on 2008’s Furr or as adventurous as anything on last year’s Destroyer of the Void, which found the band injecting prog rock into their folk rock cannon. Blitzen Trapper has once again succeeded in crafting an album that fits with classics. But standing between The Allman Brothers Band and Creedence Clearwater Revival is a high task, and this time, it gets a little lost in between.

Rey Pila - S/t

2011-06-08T16:28:00.000-04:00

Diego Solórzano hits his peak in the middle of Rey Pila, with dance rock anthem “No. 114.” Crunchy guitar riffs sizzle into a climbing solo that ascends into a maelstrom of a chorus. It’s one of the four Spanish-language songs on this bilingual album that the former frontman of Los Dynamite recorded in New York with producer/engineer Paul Majahan (TV On The Radio, Yeah Yeah Yeahs). Much of the rest of the album falls victim to thin vocals and dying disco beats. Solórzano would be better off abandoning the airy falsetto that clouds Rey Pila with weightless muck, instead focusing on his capable crooning.

CSS - La Liberacíon

2011-06-07T16:22:00.003-04:00

La Liberación is the international answer to Ke$ha. Trite lyrics almost being the point here, CSS is around to start the party, not the conversation. The fivesome from São Paulo, Brazil, is best when not taken seriously. Hedonistic, restless, and snot-nosed, La Liberación is pure club scene. Surging beats and blaring synths flow throughout showstoppers like “I Love You” and “City Grrrl,” which fans of Far East Movement would be absolutely silly not to embrace. CSS, though, is far less of a guilty pleasure. The international vibe on the album feels more cultured and less constructed than most of the Guetta-ized tunes currently playing the dance scene. Elsewhere, CSS (short for Cansei de Ser Sexy, or “tired of being sexy”) finds an island vibe on “Echo of Love,” and sways to a chilled-out reggae swing in “Hits Me Like a Rock.” On the latter, frontwoman Lovefoxxx’s speak-singing hearkens to M.I.A with a Portuguese accent. The title track, the only Spanish-language song on the album, is also the most immediate. Tight guitar grumble, infectious yelled choruses, and a punk rock fever leave the body as quickly as they enter. The delicate piano twinkling in “Partners in Crime” is a pleasantly jazzy surprise on an album meant for the rave.

Disappointingly, the second half of the album loses some of the sting. It gets embarrassing on “Red Alert,” a sultry, snake-like song featuring Brookyn electronic duo, Ratatat. Lovefoxx groans for a lover to meet her in the desert, where she’s “feeling the rhythm of casual love,” detailing a sexual encounter atop low-tempo syncopation. But again, it’s better to tune out the meaning, focusing instead on La Liberación’s ability to make every muscle in the body burn with an itch to dance. Above all, the point is liberation, freedom from caring, and a hell of a lot of booty shaking.

sunday morning.

2011-06-05T11:07:00.002-04:00

I really dislike reviewing records I don't enjoy. Forcing yourself to listen to something that makes you miserable multiple times, just so you can formulate words for your dislike. It seems silly and counter-intuitive. I'd rather dull recordings just go unsaid instead of insulted, but that's not the world we live in, is it?

Alexander Turnquist - Hallway of Mirrors

2011-06-03T00:02:00.004-04:00

Well wasn't this a surprise?

My mom brought me this album when she visited me last week. (No, my mother does not have strange 12-string guitar obsessions or taste for independent music. Although that would be awesome. A publicist sent Alexander Turnquist's 5-song EP, Hallway of Mirrors, to my previous address.) I guess it had been in Cleveland for a while now. Last week, I put the album in my 6-CD stereo in my car. I was flipping around today, trying to goad myself off the new My Morning Jacket album for a hot second.

Is goad a word? Let's pretend it is and move on.

This instrumental EP is absolutely mind-blowing in the most calming sense. It's the kind of album that screams out to you when you're driving home from work at 11pm on pitch black highways and needing to space out after listening to police scanners for 8 hours. (Wait, that's just me? Oh, right. You have normal jobs and/or are students.)

Hallway of Mirrors sparkles with cinematic greatness. (Greatness in the sense of large and masterful, not Tony the Tiger "they're great"-ness.) Every song here evokes an almost overpowering feeling. The odd thing is the first adjective that came to my mind, before I even knew the EP's title, was sparkling. It's very organic sounding but also quite ornate.

The first song, "Running Towards," is curious, almost alien sounding. Sparkling spiders and cobwebs that shimmer in the night. The title track is one of those songs that makes you fantasize about having your own soundtrack. You know what I mean? Where you're like, "YES! This is the music that will follow me around for a day while someone makes a film about how tragic/brilliant/screwed up/dramatic my life is." In this case, the music has this elegance to it, yet a cluttered claustrophobia that puts you slightly on edge. I imagine myself floating around with my nose slightly turned up like a Victorian girl or smiling with a slight arrogance. (Not sure where I'm getting this impression - I swear the music is shaping it - because right now I'm recovering from surgery and my left eye is droopy and I feel anything but elegant and arrogant.)

And get this -- track 3, "Spherical Aberrations," actually made me feel like I was living on the prairie, on my way to enduring a very difficult task, such as carrying two huge buckets of water up a large hill on my way to telling the village elder that all the children are dying of malaria. (wtf? i know right?) But seriously, you have to listen to this song, and you'll understand. These songs put you into a story that you didn't even know was in your brain. Why else would I be having prairie fantasies at 12:15 on Friday morning?

Alright, so you're sick of my stories and you wanna know what this music actually sounds like? I can't explain it. Turnquist plays a 12-string guitar which is constantly being picked over like the knocked over contents of a pinata at your little cousin's birthday party. His fingers must literally be flying. And there are slight chimes that he's weaving melodically through the songs. And violin or some other string instruments adding emotion and texture to the seamless yet nonsensical compositions. No percussion, just this alien sound.

Wait. Is Turnquist a one man band? Let's google this. (I'm being very unprofessional tonight.)

I found this:

Like James Blackshaw, Jack Rose, Glenn Jones, etc, this could roughly be described as “raga” guitar, with its long, modal compositions and hypnotic overtone play.

But what in the world does that even mean? I'm not a guitar prodigy over here! Time to turn to Wikipedia.

Alexander Turnquist (born 1988 in Idaho) is an American guitarist and composer. He has released original albums on the VHF record label as well as limited released titles on the Kning Disk imprint and Textura record label. Turnquist's has had comparisons to Guitarists Jack Rose, Alex De Grassi, Kaki King, and James Blackshaw as well as contemporary composer Phillip Glass.

Turnquist's First widely released album "Faint at the Loudest Hour" (VHF Records 2007) was given high marks with an 8.2 in the Popular music review website Pitchfork [1]. His Second release with the VHF Records label "As the Twilight Crane Dreams in Color" was named the #6 out of The Silent Ballet top 50 Albums of 2009 [2].

Crap! Pitchfork found him before me! D'oh. Oh well. This guy rules. He's younger than me and he massages the guitar like it's a freakin labrador retriever. (Not sure what I mean by that, so if you do, I'm sorry.) You should check him out. (P.S. Check out the number of grammatical mistakes in that Wikipedia entry.) Goodnight.

Adam Torres covers Nick Drake

2011-06-01T22:31:00.002-04:00

What can I say about Adam Torres that I haven't already said a billion times? It has actually been a while since I've written about this musical hero on my blog, so if you're just tuning in, I'll give you some background information.

I have been following Adam since my freshman year at Ohio University, where I would go to the Front Room (coffee shop) at the old Baker Center to watch open mic nights. Adam was so unassuming and wonderful. He would play his guitar in a pair of gym shorts, making witty, sarcastic comments between songs. And his songs, they were so powerful. From day one.

Adam also tells the best stories. One time, in an interview on my radio show, he told me about his process of creating his album art for his first album. He illustrated a design, and he wanted to give it an aged look, with frayed edges and a sun-soaked feel. So Adam bought a package at one of the dozens of tanning salons overtaken by shallow college ladies to "age" his art. I can't remember exactly how he told the story, but I know it involved a lot of embarrassment around said tanned ladies and a not-so-successful "tanning of paper" process.

Anyway, I'm getting off topic. Adam's album, Nostra Nova, was a seminal piece of my understanding and love of music. I can't count how many times I've listened to it. He sings so delicately and powerfully, all at once. His guitar playing is wholly original and personal, each song touching a different piece of the heart.

When he decided to take a break from writing new music for a while, I (along with countless others) was devastated. He's been adventuring around the world, though, and he's starting to reveal some of the music that various cultures have influenced.

I thought I'd share this video he created in Cuenca, Ecuador. The music and photography is all by Adam. Beautiful as always.

And if you enjoy it, I suggest you take a listen to the new songs he has posted on his bandcamp page.

My Haphazard Relationship with My Morning Jacket

2011-05-31T23:27:00.004-04:00

My relationship with My Morning Jacket began after my freshman year of college. I went to Lollapalooza, my first ever music festival, that summer with three of my best friends. It was my first experience with the most heavenly days of life, those filled with back-to-back concerts, chasing from one field to another to catch the next show, standing until dehydration and exhaustion overtook my body.

We watched My Morning Jacket at the Bud Light stage, one of the two huge stages. You could see the Chicago landscape behind the stage, but my focal point was on this wasted lady in a long dress and heels, dancing off to the side of front pit, waving her arms in oblivion to the minutes-long jams into which each song eventually morphed. I could do without it. In fact, I grew bored, stared vacantly into the shade of the trees to the side of the stage. I couldn't for the life of me understand the appeal of My Morning Jacket. I've never been much of a jammer. Not sure if I lack a chemical in my brain or the capacity to injest mushrooms. Either way, I felt nothing.

My friends proceeded to travel up to Cleveland -- my hometown -- sometime that fall to catch another My Morning Jacket show. I stayed behind in Athens. Forget it, I said. No way I'm paying to see them.

My sophomore year roommate, Lauren, was on an MMJ kick. She would play "One Big Holiday" every morning as soon as we woke up. Along with that one stupid album by the Format that everyone except me loved. I would cringe when she played it, but eventually it became habit, and it kinda settled into the depths of me, and I accepted it. (And this is no dis to Lauren. She also played Paul Simon some mornings. She has lovely taste. To this day, the mix CD she made me before I went to Spain is the best mix CD anyone has ever made for me.)

I saw My Morning Jacket the next summer, once again at Lollapalooza. But this time, they played the opposite large stage, and we sat on the hill by the baseball field. The Chicago Youth Orchestra (I believe) came onstage, and it was sort of unreal. Yet I still didn't get it.

The moment I really heard My Morning Jacket was May of 2008, the first time I heard Evil Urges. This album was unlike any other MMJ album. Falsetto, Prince-like, or Winnie-the-Pooh-like. Spacey electronics, ambling love songs and an ode to a special librarian, tongue in cheek, so clever, so embraceable. "Highly Suspicious" was highly messed up, and one of the best weirdo songs I'd ever heard. I rated the album as my #3 favorite of 2008 (after Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver's debut albums). It was all over the place, the kind of sonic adventure that makes you want to dive off a cliff into musical oblivion.

I explored their older material, finding that even the songs that once irritated me were so incredibly magical. All that time, I had under-appreciated what was right in front of me.

When I decided to move to Louisville, I had no idea I was moving to the band's hometown. In fact, I knew pretty much nothing about Kentucky or Louisville or horses or the fact that it was on the Ohio River. I didn't know that My Morning Jacket recorded one of their live albums partially at Ear X-tacy, an independent record store here. I didn't know until I listened to that live album, which my friend Josh had just made me a copy of, and heard Jim James pledging allegiance to Louisville and the store. And then it was fate for me to love the band. And the city, for that matter.

I went to Ear X-tacy last night. They were releasing MMJ's Circuital at midnight. I wanted to see the excitement. At least a hundred people showed up. The town felt alive. On a Monday night, it was alive. The record has been on repeat all day, and I think it might just top Evil Urges for me. The first three... hell, every song has roped me in. "Holdin' on to Black Metal" is maybe more courageous than "Highly Suspicious," "Wonderful (The Way I Feel)" is completely devoted, and I can't even begin to get my head to stop spinning from the title track.

The band is playing at the Palace right now. I didn't get a ticket before they sold out, but strangely, Todd Haynes (I'm not gonna go off on too large of a tangent, but I kinda worship the guy. His short film about Karen Carpenter that I watched in a women's studies class made me cry. It was made entirely of barbie dolls that he carved to the point of emaciation. And those barbie dolls made me cry. That's how good he is.) is directing a live youtube streaming event of the concert. I've been watching it all night. The last song in their first encore? "One Big Holiday." Huh.

I'm about ten minutes from the venue, yet I'm sitting in my room, wondering how I fell so hard in love with a band that I once stood so strongly against.

Maybe I'm growing up. Maybe I'm growing weirder. Maybe, just maybe, I'm just riding the path that is my life, and as I travel farther, I grow closer to understanding all these things I've missed along the way.

Handsome Furs - Sound Kapital

2011-05-30T18:32:00.001-04:00

The greatness of Handsome Furs lies in duality. Husband-and-wife team Dan Boeckner (of Wolf Parade) and Alexei Perry have the unrestricted energy of fiery lovers, which they display in full force during their onstage spit-swapping and bodily jerks in each other’s direction. That passion typically comes through their music when Boeckner’s steamy guitar squalls meet Perry’s infectious electrobeats. The dirty quality of his ax somehow meshes perfectly with the precise yet spontaneous rhythm of her synth blasts. Sound Kapital was written primarily on keyboards, and the result feels more club, less rock and roll. It has the same jarring claustrophobia as Handsome Furs’ previous two albums, but misses some of the impulsiveness. Still, their latest demonstrates more of a patience for song-craft than ever before. “What About Us,” the first single, meshes an intermittent bee-buzzing effect with a simple keyboard melody, only to break off with a spacey bridge where Boeckner begs the song’s subject to break his heart. “When I Get Back” works up a dance fever of the highest order, while “Damage” begins with fuzzy samples of radio broadcasts they collected while touring Asia. Sound Kapital is missing some of the duo’s bark, but it certainly maintains their bite.

Handsome Furs Get Hairy

2011-04-14T12:13:00.004-04:00

Guys, I'm over the plagiarism. It was crazy, I got angry, I got over it. The rest of No Ripcord's staff was absolutely respectable and diligent in dealing with the situation, so I in no way desire to hold any grudges.

Moving on, let's talk about a new record I'm already so pleased to hear. A formal review will come later, but let's just discuss what makes Handsome Furs one of my most unlikely favorite bands.

-this music has groove, edge, and manic energy
-husband and wife duo spits on each other/makes out onstage
-they are the rawest people ever
-their music is pure exertion

It's not joyful music, necessarily. The past couple albums have dealt with heavy issues. Face Control explored the cruelties they learned of while touring Eastern Europe ("Radio Kaliningrad," check). They also seem to mock selfish consumerism with my favorite title, maybe, ever -- "All We Want, Baby, Is Everything." Sometimes this title is my mantra, when I'm feeling especially ambitious. Sometimes I just think I want everything. Everything and nothing at the same time. It's ridiculous.

The energy on their soon-to-hit-shelves Sound Kapital is so palpable you can feel it suction to your insides. Constant punches to the gut, obnoxiously squeaky synth blasting (I hate techno/I love techno - it's an anomaly), and of course, the dirty guitar growl.

Dan Boeckner and Alexei Perry seem to have done it again.

No Ripcord Update

2011-04-12T10:46:00.003-04:00

The Cass McCombs review has been pulled from No Ripcord's website, and I received the following emails from them.

Plagiarism - NOT cool

2011-04-11T22:53:00.002-04:00

A commenter brought to my attention that I've been plagiarized.

I published my Cass McCombs review on my blog March 1st.

This review came out on No Ripcord April 2nd.

This makes me absolutely sick to my stomach. ABSOLUTELY SICK.

I know this is just the internet, but in no way is it OK to steal someone's words.

Really Tom Roper? It was really that hard to formulate your own views and listen to the lyrics yourself?

Sad Mraz

2011-04-08T09:03:00.006-04:00

I woke up this morning in a strange sense of disarray. A song had noodled its way into my brain - a song I had not heard in years. I leaned across my bathroom counter trying to remember it before the moment passed, hesitating to start brushing my teeth lest I lose it.

At first I could make out the word "absolutely." I knew it was slow, and beautiful. Zero. Absolutely Zero. Oh my blobinthesky, I had vintage Jason Mraz in my head!

I'm not sure how he got there. After all, I've been trying to forget about him for years. Jason Mraz went from a sad sack with the most beautiful songs of heartbreak to the most irritating ukulele-toting fedora-wearing man in the history of pop music. And all of this happened within the course of a few short years. Waiting for my Rocket to Come, the 2002 masterpiece, slowly disintegrated into 2005's mediocre Mr. A-Z, a sub-par effort where Mr. Mraz went from Awesome to a little too Zany. Then came 2008's We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things. where the only track worth listening was track 7. It was a sad sack song. And I can't even remember its name.

And that's when he brought out his ukulele. The worst use of ukulele known to mankind.

Back to Waiting for my Rocket to Come. These songs are precious raindrops and morning dew. They are sensitive, and gentle, and everything great about waking up on a fresh morning. "Who Needs Shelter" has the sweetest sort of guitar plucking, while "The Boy's Gone" has a steady pace of contemplative lyrics and a simple-but-catchy guitar riff. "Absolutely Zero" is full of break-up sadness, enough emotion to somehow bury itself in the depths of my brain, only to emerge 9 years after I first heard it.

Sad Mraz, come back. You may have been miserable, and I may have been naive, but life was simpler back then.

of Montreal - thecontrollersphere

2011-04-06T10:33:00.002-04:00

Deception and camouflage color this mini-album, a batch of five songs where of Montreal manages to shroud its normal sound for that of its influences. “Flunk Sass vs the Root Plume” is straight out of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust period, “Holiday Call” falls into A. R. Rahman territory when it stretches on for five minutes in a a trippy Bollywood synth jam, and “Black Lion Massacre” is as frightening as it sounds, as the band forgoes its pop sensibilities for haunting techno noise with creepy robot narration. Of Montreal doesn’t actually sound like itself until “L’age D’or,” a great bouncy tune that would not be out of place in the same Harlem house clubs that inspired Madonna’s “Vogue.” Kevin Barnes croons “she’s just my party drug” in a falsetto that makes Ke$ha sound tame. Nothing here is must-hear, but true fans will enjoy sorting through of Montreal’s influences and musical thought process as they prepare for the next full album.

The Head and the Heart - Self-Titled

2011-04-01T14:17:00.003-04:00

Themes of traveling and packing bags are all over The Head and the Heart’s debut album, now being re-released by Sub Pop. “Ghosts” revolves around friends talking about leaving their hometown, “Rivers and Roads” takes listeners on an emotional journey, and “Down in the Valley” name checks California and Oklahoma amongst the places to hide away in a secret valley. After all, most of the six band members are recent Seattle transplants, and fresh off cross-state journeys to their new home. “Down in the Valley” evokes an incredible sort of emotion, as it builds from reflective, acoustic picking to piano that pulls on the heartstrings and violin that steals heat right from the center of the fire. It exemplifies what The Head and the Heart do best, and do often. Their glowing harmonies, sense of movement (both musical and lyrical), and emotional build capture the heart in ways other bands can only dream. Roll your car windows down, pack your bags, and sing along.

*By the way, this is currently my favorite album of 2011. That's how much I think you should listen to it.

Field Music - You're So Pretty

2011-03-26T00:52:00.003-04:00

I'm going through old songs, making a playlist for tomorrow's 10 mile run. I cannot get over how many amazingly incredible songs I haven't heard in years. It's like walking into my own personal candy store after forgetting it exists... but nothing has gone stale.

My friend gave me data disc of music in high school, and it had 4 Field Music songs on it. This was one. I probably listened to those 4 songs 80 times each in my mp3 cd player. There's a quality here that is so absolutely naive and fresh and light. It's like growing up without growing jaded, where all the joys of childhood linger in the air. The harmonies are simply overwhelming in their happiness. When I hear it, I see bright colors and breathe in summer and everything else disappears.

I melt into a ball of soap, and bubble away.

There's a sort of timeless quality here, one that carries with it the feeling of forever bliss.

Come Back Into My Life

2011-03-26T00:29:00.000-04:00

Kevin Devine, I miss you so damn much.

David Bazan - Strange Negotiations

2011-03-25T13:26:00.003-04:00

David Bazan spent the better part of Curse Your Branches, the album that precedes Strange Negotiations, struggling with his conflicted feelings over Christianity. Whereas the music on Curse feels secondary to the lyrical content, his latest is a turn in the other direction. Biting guitars are much more direct here, and each song feels more like its own individual narrative. Bazan is still overcoming hardships every step of the way, whether it’s “feeling like a stranger” in his hometown on the title track or dealing with phony people in the rage-addled “People.” But he minimizes the glitchy electronics we heard on Curse for straightforward rockers. Simple riffs and lines like “you’re a goddamn fool, and I love you” bring a punch to the album opener, “Wolves at the Door.” It flows right into “Level With Yourself,” which might as well be a continuation of the first song. The middle of Strange Negotiations sinks into a contemplative lull with the slow-building, nostalgic “Virginia,” where the brushed drums come in almost two minutes into the song. It’s these quiet moments that demonstrate what the Seattle-based musician does best—paint a specific picture with words that put you inside his memories and minimalist melodies that tie them all together.

Badly Drawn Boy - The Shining

2011-03-25T13:24:00.000-04:00

Seriously, how good is this song?

Cleveland's Newest Piece of Awesome - Shoreway

2011-03-02T23:51:00.003-05:00

I'm gonna forgive the fact that this band just stole one half of my potential band name (that is, if I ever learn how to play an instrument... which could be a while). BECAUSE THEY RULE!!

Shoreway is my new favorite Cleveland band, mostly because I'm obsessed with Matthew Rolin's music. If you don't remember, I blogged a lot about his last band, Casual Encounters. Shoreway is a mix of CE and another Cleveland band, Clovers.

It's a little more rawr in the guitar department, and less drippy hippy than Casual Encounters, and it rules just as hard.

Whoa my god, here are more details on their shows.

P.S. Matthew told me they're touring this summer.

Listen to them on soundcloud.

Cass McCombs Flashback 2009

2011-03-01T14:40:00.002-05:00

In light of my unfavorable review of the new McCombs album, I just found this old review of a McCombs/Walkmen show I saw two years ago at the Beachland Ballroom... guess I really did love Catacombs.

------

An album and a few extra bandmates later, Cass McCombs is a changed man. He’s not completely different; his jaded, sullen side still peaks through the darkness in his eyes. Yet last night’s performance was a far cry from the set McCombs’ played when he opened for Jose Gonzalez a year and a half ago. Rather than sneering at the audience, you could almost catch a glimmer of a smile every few songs.

McCombs’ newer material has a sunny side, and a full backing band was better able to express the depth of emotion McCombs’ carries in his vulnerable voice. There were times, though, that I wished the band would evaporate so you could hear his smooth garbling and the sweetly simple song construction.

His music has the retro feel of Brill Building pop, with subtle harmonies and an echoed reverb effect on his vocals. In “You Saved My Life,” McCombs hiccuped into little half-spoken phrases that almost sounded – gasp –Elvis Presley-esque.

Cass McCombs - Wit's End

2011-03-01T14:38:00.002-05:00

If you judge a man by his music and stage presence, Cass McCombs may very well be one of the most depressed men to haunt your playlist. All sad waltzes and slow choruses, Wit’s End is a series of musical balloons, popped and lying tattered and torn across the floor. This album is further submerged in hopelessness than his past work. And that’s saying something, considering 2009's Catacombs wasn’t a particularly bubbly affair. But where Catacombs has glimmers of hope, like the nearly perfect “Dreams Come True Girl,” these songs sound like a suicide note.

“Buried Alive” starts promisingly, with faraway organs replicating a Jon Brion soundtrack. Lines like “waking up to the breath of the old/in a sea of black” haunt the hazy nightmare. By the end of the song, it’s almost as if McCombs has trapped his listeners in the tomb with him, twisting and turning us within medieval-sounding chimes. McCombs takes us back centuries with the same sort of bells and organs on “Memory’s Stain” and “Pleasant Shadow Song.”

Though littered with beautiful moments, Wit’s End feels suffocating in its repetition. Each song treads more heavily than the last, dragging the heart into a state of coma. In “Saturday Song,” even when he declares “she’s everything today” in what seems like a profession of love, the plodding piano and funeral march drones transform the song into a pit in the stomach, an indescribably terrifying bout of depressive murk.

It’s understandable that “County Line” was released as the album’s first single. It’s the only song here with a dynamic melody and sense of movement. Everything else drowns under its own weight, trapped in a haunted basement with cobwebs and rusty chandeliers. Unafraid of bursting your bubble, Wit’s End crawls and slithers slowly, unafraid to touch upon the darkest of themes.

Southeast Engine is Back

2011-02-23T01:20:00.002-05:00

How do I write about Southeast Engine without being hugely biased? This band has embodied the feeling and the idea of living in Appalachia for the past 5 years for me – ever since I moved down to Athens, Ohio for college. They were the first concert I saw, and continued as one of my favorite bands through my entire Appalachian experience. They defined Athens. They defined the feeling of being home there. Their shows were common, and albums were released reliably. I remember the anticipation for a new album. Sitting in Cincinnati with my boyfriend at the time, he played me “Psychoanalysis.” We sat there with out mouths opened, positively high on the excitement we had for anything new and Southeast Engine.

I had a radio show. I interviewed local musicians. About three weeks into my show, I decided I needed to have Southeast Engine on the show. I hung up posters on every street corner in town, announcing that “Athens favorite rock band” would be on the radio. I was so star struck when I met them, I almost laugh at my own naiveté. Ok, I do laugh. It will silly. I was ridiculous. In the next four years, I saw them over and over again, realized they were real human beings, and they didn’t take themselves too seriously. I became friends with Adam Torres, my favorite band member… who is no longer with them. I found out he convinced them to let him in the band because they needed a keyboard player. He didn’t play keyboard. Once he was in, he played guitar. It makes me smirk.

My friends and I would go see Southeast Engine at the old Front Room, in the old Baker Center. That was before the school remade a new Front Room into a sterile box of coffee addiction. The old room was dark and dingy and the crowd sang along to half the show. It felt raw and alive, and it was a completely new experience. If you listen to Southeast Engine’s old material, it has a much more punk feel to it. It’s not polished, and the storytelling is not quite there yet. They were young. It is still some of my favorite.

Since then, the band has evolved. Its albums tell stories, and a theme unites them. You hear a lot more of the folk influence of Appalachia in them. And no album feels more Appalachian than Canary.

Here's my try at reviewing it........

This Athens, Ohio-based band takes us back in time for their latest release, recalling both the story and musical likeness of the Great Depression era. They stay true to what they know, though, steeping the songs in the kind of Appalachian folk that screams out with the occasional electric guitar, but mostly glimmers with organ and acoustic pickings.

Canary is a concept album that takes us along for a ride with a family stuck in a mining town with the worst kind of economic tragedy. Trombone and trumpet float atop “Cold Front Blues,” about snow’s devastating effects on a town dependent on natural resources, and ragged guitar solos rip through “1933 (Great Depression),” a track that captures a sense of hope despite hard times. Lines like “When church lets out her face is the one I see/ her dark blue eyes of mystery/are making me devout” build the multidimensional characters in Southeast Engine’s narrative. These are the sort of love songs that people stopped writing in the age of bling and Bieber.

We learn that the main character’s mother has died in “Red Lake Shore,” which starts with a faraway vocal echo. It builds with Leo Deluca’s shuffling drumbeat, and the spot-on vocal harmonies of frontman Adam Remnant, and his brother and bandmate Jesse. Billy Matheny cuts into “At Least We Have Each Other” with a hotter-than-the-Devil flame of organ, adding an old-timey feel to the chiming piano that accompanies it.

Through the album, it’s easy to develop a relationship with the family whose life Southeast Engine details. The theme rings out as especially meaningful today, with Appalachia still dealing with environmental disasters like mountaintop removal mining that wreak havoc on its communities. This is an album that finally seems to capture the feeling that Southeast Engine has been working toward since they formed in 1999. They’re writing about what they know, and the music resultantly falls right into place.

A Letter to Sub Pop Records

2011-02-04T01:26:00.002-05:00

Dear Sub Pop,

I love you dearly. You send me wonderful records every now and then, and you send them by mail! Do you even know how excited I am to receive records in the mail? It is my favorite kind of mail.

In exchange for your kindness, I do try to listen to everything you send and read all the press releases that come along for the ride. I do enjoy a musician's story, even when you puff them up to be something probably a little bit greater than they really are. But I like positive music journalism, so reading impassioned things about new music is encouraging.

However, I think you should get your act together on this Twilight Singers press release. I cannot read words strung together when every single sentence has one adverb: best.

I get it. You like this guy's new record. You even think it's better than the rest of his records. And, by golly, it might be the most impressive thing the man has done in his life.

But GET A GRIP. You're pretty much making it sound like this man invented the English language. Like this guy was the first person to make it sound like a guitar is attacking the air with its soundwaves. Like this guy invented all musical instruments and then taught all humankind how to use them. Like this guy is the only one capable of making a song worth listening to.

For all I know (and I don't know), Greg Dulli is a musical genius. Maybe he invented a genre. Maybe he climbed to the top of the pyramids with his legs tied together while the peaceful protesters of Cairo threw stones at him. Maybe he got stuck in between two mountains, cut his arm off, proceeded to compose a symphony with one arm, and then carried the remaining 1,800 sufferers of the Guinea Worm to Canada on his back to get them some better health care.

But for god's sake, TONE IT DOWN. I'm pretty sure the man is not god.

Much love, and sincere admiration for your record label,

Danielle

Papercuts - Fading Parade

2011-02-01T21:16:00.004-05:00

I saw Papercuts once. The opened for Vetiver at a dive bar. I went with a boy I liked. I was bored out of my mind. The only thing I remember was too much fuzz (reverb, not alcoholz). I might have fallen asleep during their set, was I not standing for its duration.

I thought to myself, "Papercuts are way more boring than I thought! I will never care about them again!" And then they never occupied my thoughts again.

Until this week. Fading Parade, their latest (and forth) album, arrived in my little mail box. It was shoved in there, the envelope barely fitting. I took it out, I smirked, and I shook my head in disbelief. Sometimes the things you ignore come back to you in the most opportune times.

I popped the album into my car on the way to work. I was in awe. This stuff was way beautiful. It's Beach Housey. It's woozy in a "i slept in til noon and ate a dozen pancakes with my favorite person in the world" kind of way. It feels full and kinda bedhead and puffed out.

This Jason Robert Quever guy writes all the songs and plays all the instruments, and then he has some guys help him with his live show. I don't know how he went from pretty boring to superpretty and dreamy (in a good way), but he MASTERED it on this album.

The second song on the album is called "Do What You Will." The album is good from start to end, but I can't help but go back to this song. It doesn't really remind me of any specific music. Maybe a little bit of a 60's surf vibe, a little 00's lo-fi sleeper sound, a little chillwave? It's not that original, but it also doesn't sound like anything else I've heard lately.

This isn't going to be some mind-blowing album. It's not Mumford and Sons. It's not Tallest Man on Earth. It's just quietly sneaking into your brain, overtaking your thoughts, making your life a living dream. And a really good dream, at that.

Enjoy.

Papercuts - Do What You Will

Ohhhh my lord. Just checked Sub Pop. He's on tour with Beach House. Ladies and gentlemen, if you live in a cooler city than me, you MUST go and be wooed.

Brown Recluse - Impressions of a City Morning

2011-01-21T23:34:00.002-05:00

Anyone who emulates the Zombies and sounds this good doing it is fine by me.
Brown Recluse "Impressions of a City Morning" by Slumberland Records

It's Friday night, I just got off work, and I'm making Funfetti cookies with this song on repeat. Am I lame in a new city, or just damn awesome?

The Dodos - No Color

2011-01-17T17:12:00.002-05:00

The Dodos have found their Avatar. Visiter, their 2007 sophomore release, may have been their Titanic, putting them on the charts. But two albums later, they are back with an opus that is so vividly three-dimensional, you don’t need glasses (or headphones). The San Francisco duo’s strength has always centered on a syncopated drumbeat that ropes its way into the body and around the heart. It sneaks into hidden pockets of their songs, shocking layers of guitar to life. Whereas Visiter has a more hollow, bare-boned core, and their 2009 follow-up, Time to Die, seems calming in comparison, No Color fleshes out the feral, tribal percussion with layers of guitar. The gaps and holes in the songs are gone, yet the ear can still catch every nuance without feeling extra clutter.

More than ever, the tone of the new record is menacing. Meric Long’s acoustic finger picking is coated with jarring bursts of electric fuzz. Simple vocal melodies are at the core of the best songs on No Color. “When Will You Go” is striking in its melancholy beauty. Logan Kroeber weaves a thumping backdrop to the verses, allowing them room to breathe, and aggressively thrashes forward between them. Long imitates Rodrigo y Gabriela’s dexterous guitar playing on “Don’t Stop” and “Companions,” fingers flying across the strings like a flickering fire.

With every measure, The Dodos contradict the album’s title. No Color has a bright vibrancy, a sense of movement rare in non-dance music. “Sleep” is the ultimate anthem for insomniacs, seemingly conveying the simultaneous frustrations and excitement of being awake long after everyone else. You get the idea these guys thrive on late-night ideas, channeling creative forces at odd hours. Rather than envisioning blue aliens, though, Long and Kroeber have found living, breathing incarnations of their musical compositions. And it’s an otherworldly pleasure.

I'M SORRY.

2011-01-15T13:43:00.002-05:00

but when did the Dodos become Gabriela y Rodrigo?!

listening to an advance copy of No Color, and i seem to have fallen in love with the ridiculously quick guitar picking. the tribal drumming madness is a given, but THIS?! good, folks. good.

Zero Plans, Multiply Nostalgia by 7

2011-01-15T00:09:00.006-05:00

There was a time I used to sit underneath my lofted bunk bed in a skinny dorm room in the corner of the second floor of a quaint building in Athens, Ohio. I mostly tried to adjust. It was the beginning of college... my roommate was spending time with her girlfriend, and I was usually alone. I had friends, but it was the beginning of this new journey for me, and on weeknights, I had to get some work done. I would sit there, a giant desktop computer that the school lent to freshmen taking up most of my space. The printer, which sat beside it, took up the rest of the desk. I used it as my coffee table. I would sit two water bottles next to one another on the printer, and the occasional cookie I had stolen from the dining hall.

I was never really a group studier. I spent most of those nights alone.

Music was my company, as it is today. Friday night, past midnight, I find myself once again in a new city with few friends.

Zero 7. I don't remember how I first heard of them, but I spent a lot of time with them those first couple years of college. Later, I would find Pitchfork, and read scathing reviews that belittle their work. It was a long time ago that I cared to do this, and I can't remember much except that they called Zero 7 lazy and boring. Point taken. I disagree. I was disappointed in that assessment.

You see, this was, to me, the perfect accompaniment for a lonely night. Slightly uplifting, contemplative... the music seems to hint that they are about to stumble upon something... it's an exploration of some sort.

"Somersault," I thought (and still do) was one of the sweetest love songs. Maybe it's a little cheesy, but I don't care. This is coming from a girl whose favorite love songs include the cheesiest - Stars' "My Favourite Book" and The Cardigans' "For What It's Worth." (I think I'm just focusing on female-fronted love songs at the moment, but you get the point.)

When I feel the unknown
You feel like home, you feel like home

You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around
You were sweet and you were sound
You saved me

I mean, come on.

I remember getting a 4 track EP that previewed their 2006 album, The Garden. I was in a music meeting for ACRN, and I grabbed it before anyone else could. Sia sings "Throw it All Away." This song still gets me carried away.

I accidentally stumbled upon it today, and it was sort of a hidden blessing. Life repeats itself, and here I am, trying to sort things out again.

So I sit, at a white desk, in a cold room that smells vaguely of smoke, where the echoes of the baby that lives in the apartment downstairs sometimes travels up through the floor. I sit, with a small laptop, and bottle of water on the desk next to me, alongside a container of hummus and bag of crackers. I wonder what I'm going to do this weekend. I think about the work ahead of me. And somehow, I know it's all going to be ok.

Hooray for Earth - True Loves

2011-01-12T11:46:00.006-05:00

Sometimes I like music to be a little rough around the edges, and I think Sleigh Bells proved that to me this year. Hooray for Earth is this suddenly exploding machine of music makers. They sort of sound like they recorded this song in the middle of a cave with some electric razors and a really fun beat.

You need a song every now and then that you know you'd swagger to when walking down the street with headphones on. Now that I live in corporate America, on the busiest effing street in Louisville, I don't really anticipate myself walking around with headphones on the side of a 6-lane street... but you know, a girl can dream.

This song is as easily bad-ass as it is sensitive. Random piercing electronic noises spike up from a skittering beat. Vocals are kind of lethargic, the feeling is sort of communal (let's get all of our friends, stand on a beach, and start a drum circle... if you know what I mean), and it's spaced-out enough to create some kind of distance from the listener. Sort of cold. Which works in this chilling weather, I think.

Surprise Culture Shockwave

2011-01-06T23:08:00.003-05:00

Hey! I moved South, but I kinda wish I moved East... all the way to Japan.

Check out this gooey twee pop goodness from Tokyo.

Shugo Tokumaru plays all his own instruments (wikipedia estimates about 100, but I doubt that) and he's kind of brilliant. I'm not going to lie, this isn't the first time I've wished I was Asian.

Come on, how does this not make you super happy?

And if you want to go to the other end of the spectrum and just feel really bummed out, check this shiz out.

Pretty sure it's impossible to hate on Dan Auerbach. I aspire to be his female version, minus the whiskey drinking, depression, and beard. Then again, if you're gonna be a bearded whiskey drinker, Dan Auerbach is really the way to go.

Joanna Newsom - A Musical Grandma?

2010-12-31T14:27:00.003-05:00

Ok, so I can see that this could potentially come off as a really weird, deranged blog entry. But I'm going to risk sounding insane and just get some ideas out there.

First of all, I have not really ever understood Joanna Newsom. The obsession with her strange voice and her strange, cryptic songs that have never taken me to a secret land. At least not one that I enjoy. I am sorta fascinated with her, though, after reading some extensive piece on her in the New York Times that I think is an amazing journalistic undertaking, and one of the most fascinating things I've read this year. (Jody Rosen - who are you?! Can I be you?!!)

Back to the point. I don't really get her music, and I certainly did not buy her three album undertaking. I've heard amazing things about her and it from friends whose musical tastes I certainly respect (Brett, that'd be you). Certainly. I'm a word repeater. Ugh sue me.

Well, I was going through one of the two music blogs that I follow regularly, and one of this dude's favorite songs of the year was Joanna Newsom's "Good Intentions Paving Company." And I have to admit, IT'S KIND OF BRILLIANT. It's brilliant in this totally cheesy, old grandma way. Like, seriously, I'm picturing the grandmother character in the musical Pippin, who goes around singing words of wisdom to the younger generation. Or I also imagine the older woman character in Harold and Maude (ugh, her name would be Maude, right? I'm and idiot). She's a free-spirited hippie who falls in love with a young man, and it's totally adorable-deranged. I love it. She's a quirky grandma, and that's kind of how I feel Joanna Newsome is - at least in this song.

I used to be quite the musical theater fan in my younger days. (I speak like I'm 50, right? I swear, I'm in my early 20s.) But I used to be in all kinds of musicals and go see them, and I still really enjoy them. I have lost my interest in listening to soundtracks outside of the theater though, so I really wouldn't be caught dead with musical songs on my ipod. (Ok, ok, I have a couple songs from Pippin and the entire West Side Story soundtrack. And my favorite is The Last Five Years. Please don't tell on me. I'm going to lose some serious street cred here.)

I'm going to conclude from this entry that I quite like "Good Intentions Paving Company," no matter how strangely maudlin I find it. Great melody. This could be the premise of a theatrical production. I would actually really like that. Screw U2's Spiderman on Broadway. Let's do a Joanna Newsom musical. She's not trying to be cool, and you know what? I think it's working for her...

Joanna Newsom - Good Intentions Paving Company

OMG I just saw this live video of her performing it. She's a stage freak. This needs to become a musical, or die.

Banjo or Freakout - 105

2010-12-26T21:42:00.000-05:00

Banjo or Freakout is a guy who plays a billion instruments and lives in London. He made this nice pre-sleeptime song for you. It's got that nice don't-worry-about-a-thing vibe. Hug your pillow, your dog, or your lover. And watch out for his first full-length in February.

Banjo or Freakout - 105

Music Quote of the Day

2010-12-25T17:52:00.004-05:00

I love this because it's incredibly surprising given the huge difference in genre between the two bands, but also because I respect and love both of these guys' most recent albums so, so much. I love that people can have such wide-ranging taste in music.

"Another really great drumming record, even though it’s not incredibly complex, is... I really love the way the drums sound on the new National record, even though that’s a totally different kind of music from what we do. I just really like the sound of the drums technically, and just the way that the drums are played and the way that the drumbeats fit with the songs. But I don’t think we’re going to make a record that sounds like The National. No offense to The National – [Brian and I] really love that band.” -David Prowse of Japandroids in an interview I did with him last week

Generationals - Trust

2010-12-25T16:12:00.004-05:00

Oh my gosh! Do you remember what it feels like to be dancing in circles in your backyard when the grass is green and the air is fresh and the sun is beating down on you? I mean, I know, I know, it's winter. But just think about it! It's pure joy, and you want to eat red popsicles and invite over all your best friends and talk about your favorite songs and then play fetch with your dog.

Ok, so listen to this song by Generationals, who are actually two members of the old band The Eames Era. If you didn't work in college radio, you probably don't know who they are/were. Let's leave it at this: totally cutesy, almost sickeningly sweet. (But not sick at all! So catchy great!) So now Generationals have come back with this song where guitars reverberate like sunshine, drums pop like bubble wrap, and the chorus is infinitely more catchy than whatever stupid thing Kanye is saying this week.

Gahhhhh happy holidays and go DANCE!

Generationals - Trust

Deerhunter Hits the Target

2010-12-23T12:05:00.002-05:00

I’ve been carelessly minding my own business in the music department lately. I am, number one, a big slacker, as of late. I will attribute my upcoming job transition and the fact that I am moving all my possessions to a small apartment in Louisville. The good news is that I’m starting my own life. The bad news is I’m not sure how much Cleveland events/music I’ll be covering. I’m going back to journalism, baby!

Once I’m settled, though, I plan to bring No Mistake in Mixtape to its former glory, posting more than once a month. Life gets in the way of blogging and hobbies sometimes, doesn’t it?

One thing I couldn’t avoid raving about is Deerhunter. I reviewed their Cleveland show on here a month or so back. That was before I listened to Halcyon Digest. Ok, I listened a couple times through. I know that sounds horrible. I was reviewing a concert. I barely knew the new material. Kids, it happens. Music writers don’t always know that much about everything. Sometimes I have to work solely off observations.

Halcyon Digest has been stuck on repeat in my brain and on my ipod and computer and work computer and grooveshark and any other way I consume music. It haunts me in the most alluring way. Bradford Cox’s vocals have a distant, ghosty atmosphere that I really couldn’t pick up in a live setting, where his guitar was shaking my body like a tornado circling closer to the trees, slowly beginning to crack the branches in pieces.

His guitar loops have these circular ways of getting back to THE POINT. There is always this one point that I think each song centers on. He squiggles around it, and then he floats off to another universe, slowly circling back, his guitar coming to that same point of concentration.

Some of these songs are horrendously depressing. I picture a room of babies crying in a science fiction novel, after some evil creature of the future shows them how terrifyingly hopeless their lives will be. Something straight out of Brave New World, where they hypnotize and teach the babies what they should think and believe while they sleep.

There is always light shining through the dark cracks of the songs, though. “Revival” has a tiny shivering chime sound that sneaks out of the guitar, adding a brightness.

Forget what I said about everything being depressing. Listen to “Memory Boy” and tell me you don’t feel so full of hope and dreams and opportunities that you could pee and it would come out as a rainbow.

“Desire Lines” is a really great Strokes/Interpol hybrid. Lockett Pundt sings like a Julian Casablancas duplicate, and the dark moody “let’s go to a club and sit in the corner and sulk” vibe is classic Interpol. Maybe I just make that comparison because those are the two main bands who got me into indie rock? I don’t know. This song has the best squiggling guitar lines, and you feel creepy cool when you listen.

And let’s not even get me started on “Helicopter,” which pretty much rules my universe. It has this hugeness to it that triggers an emotional breakdown. I don’t usually get this unexplainably touched and emotional by songs unless they’re by U2 or The National or Elliott Smith.

I feel like the purpose of the 7 and a half minute “He Would Have Laughed” is to serve really appreciative music fans at 2:45am after a long night of drinking. Cuz you can just sit on your couch – get out that ottoman to rest your legs, it’s been a long day – and sink in and enjoy. It’s minimal, and it’s got a relaxed, spaced out vibe. The real purpose of the song was to pay tribute to Jay Reatard. (That’s a lot better than my proposed purpose.)

The weirdest thing about this Deerhunter rave is that I don’t typically write disjointed album reviews where I make stupid baby nightmare and tornado comparisons on this blog. But the last time I did this, I’m pretty sure it was when I was writing about an Atlas Sound album (that’s Bradford Cox’s solo project). Something about his music just gets deep within my skin and makes me want to be a weirder person.

A Year in Sum

2010-12-13T22:25:00.002-05:00

I'm listening to Japandroids, and I'm reading things about them on the internet. I'm letting the simplicity seep into me, remembering the rash anger I felt a year and a half ago when I was listening to it for the first time. I was going through a transition from college back home, searching for a job and a future. More than anything, I was angry. I think I felt entitled. I felt like I deserved to get a job I wanted in my field. I thought all my hard work over the past four years should automatically yield to immediate results. I thought things were going to be easier, and I thought I'd have places to go and friends to live with. Instead, I was lonely and lost and really unlucky. The economy was bottoming out, and I was one of millions of casualties. A fresh graduate with nowhere to go.

So much has changed in the past year. I went through so many uncertainties and made choices I wasn't sure about. I spent a lot of time with my parents and my dog. And I made some friends. Some really great ones. I got pretty darn good at my job. I did my best to keep up with music, even though college radio was no longer keeping me hip. I bordered on depression, I had some amazing victories, but mostly I changed my entire outlook.

Instead of entitlement, I got appreciative. I'm not always going to understand the purpose of what life throws at me. I'll probably sob to Elliott Smith and sing really loudly to The Joshua Tree. I'll probably jump around my room to M.I.A and Matt & Kim, and I'll cry to Deerhunter. (I'm really freakin emotional, ok? Just accept me!) Life is just what you make it. And I'm totally about the small accomplishments and the small joys.

I'm moving again. Starting a new job, starting a new life. Starting from scratch. This time, Japandroids' Post-Nothing doesn't resonate with me. I'm not angry. I don't miss a reckless life or insane late-night adventures. I don't care about hot musicians with shaggy hair (k that might be a lie). I'm growing up a little. I love this album still. But I love it for different reasons. It brings back memories for a very specific time in my life. I don't have this same sense of rebellion.

I don't have a soundtrack for this transition yet. (Although, with a move to Louisville, I'm thinking about getting back on the My Morning Jacket train really quickly.) I'm ready for the journey.

Songs that Make you Long

2010-12-01T07:14:00.002-05:00

I have a thing for songs that make me want to live in other places.

Today, let's do Los Angeles.

First, quaint and beautiful.

Next, spicy and exhilarating.

John Vanderslice - White Wilderness

2010-11-28T17:21:00.005-05:00

The breathtaking clarity of sound on John Vanderslice’s seventh full-length album is less surprising than the twisted chord progressions and ominous overtones. After all, his production talents have always been one of his strengths. Vanderslice’s San Francisco recording studio, Tiny Telephone, is a haven for musicians like Beulah, who recorded When Your Heartstrings Break there. Instead of turning to his usual hyperperfected digital tinkering, however, Vanderslice finished the album with the Magik*Magik Orchestra, Tiny Telephone’s resident musicians, in three days. Under the direction of Minna Choi, the orchestra helps Vanderslice shape his most lush record. The swelling strings of “Convict Lake” are so overwhelming, if you played it underwater, it might make dolphins cry.

Though lyrically intimate, White Wilderness is a grand affair. Verses are separated by gentle bursts of piano, horns, and chimes. Trombones menacingly huff atop “The Piano Lesson.” The effect isn’t necessarily a pretty one. Pieces of the record challenge listeners with instrumental combinations that come off as troublesome when layered together. The title track details a trip through what sounds like a contemporary interpretation a Lord of the Rings-type journey—snowy, dark, and difficult. “Overcoat” splashes around with a squiggly woodwind introduction, embracing a more upbeat rhythm that might be familiar to fans of Vanderslice’s jumpier 2007 release, Emerald City. Most of White Wilderness, though, shows his softer side. It’s a welcome development in his long and diverse career, which continues to reveal Vanderslice’s remarkable creativity and willingness to evolve.

Peter Wolf Crier- Down Down Down

2010-11-23T22:08:00.001-05:00

Peter Wolf Crier - Down Down Down (Daytrotter Session version)

Slacker Nostalgia

2010-11-22T19:53:00.002-05:00

There are so many things that are wrong with this video.

First of all, it is a horrifying remake of Grease, with a poor Sandy transformation that is just downright degrading. Instead of going from sweet to sassy, the girl goes from geeky adorable to slutty.

Second, Jordan Knight, you have the worst style of all time. Turtleneck/leather jacket/baggy pants? This was not cool in 1999, when this video came out, or ever!

Third, this guy was about 30 years old when he made this video. 30! A little old to be doing bad high school cliche movie-music video remakes.

Fourth, I think the guy who did Darrin's Dance Grooves (also known as the best infomercial of my late childhood) - I guess his name would be Darrin, right? - choreographed this. And it shows. The little finger wiggles? Laughable, and so very admirable in their own self-importance.

YET. BUT. HOWEVER.

This is also one of the most catchy songs of the '90s! I forget about it for years, but when I hear it again, it has not lost any of it's amazingly cheezy-fabulous aura! Plus, a 30-year-old Jordan Knight seducing me with a turtleneck and really embarrassing dance moves still gets me going... and I think that's a testament to his vocal crooning power. Long live the '90s. I mean, yeah riot grrl. Yeah grunge. But let's not forget where I spent most of my time - in my friends' basements dancing to the Backstreet Boys. This is important history.

Bear Hands - What a Drag

2010-11-07T16:35:00.004-05:00

So I was minding my own business, listening to some Beach House as I watched the Cleveland Browns dominate. All of a sudden, Teen Dream ended, and this great catchy song came on, and I had to leave my facebook conversation, stop trying to stalk Tapes 'n Tapes' publicist, and click on to iTunes to figure out what wonderful new band was coming through my headphones.

I have this thing called download compulsive disorder. I read two music blogs, I listen to the songs they post, and then if I like them, I download them. I often leave those songs hidden somewhere on my external hard drive, where they often rot and expire while I listen to other new things.

Every once in a while, however, these miscellaneous downloads lead to a magnificent discovery, months or years later!

Thus, I present you with Bear Hands, who Pitchfork says (I couldn't find any other internet happenings with this band) chugs Coronas between songs and has a beastly bass player. I can hear Modest Mouse and some of the raw guitar I'm liking from Ted Leo and So Cow. Can't believe they're coming to Cincinnati over Cleveland. Come on Flowerbooking! Get with the program. Send the lame bands to Cinci, and the good ones up to Cleveland.

Bear Hands // "What A Drag" from Cantora Records on Vimeo.

Bear Hands - What a Drag

Mixtape of the Week - 11.5.10

2010-11-05T20:20:00.004-04:00

It's been FOREVER since I posted a mixtape, and it's time. The theme is Home vs. the World. My life feels like a tug-of-war between my mellow home life and my insane travel schedule. We start at home, travel to beaches, cities, and new adventures, and end at home.

Mixtape of the Week 11.5.10 - Take me Home - Click here to download on Mediafire.

1. Glasser - Home
Obsessed with the tribal time signatures and the harmonies that float through the air like a thousand veils in the wind.
2. Dale Earnheart Jr. Jr. - Vocal Chords
The band with the worst name makes up for it with laid back pipes and a beach cookout vibe.
3. Jenny & Johnny - Big Wave
Girlfriend & Boyfriend, writing the songs I might write, you know, if I played an instrument and had a boyfriend.
4. Matt & Kim - Red Paint
This brings Hot Chip to mind because the geeky synths sliver around all the other great parts of this song like an epidemic.
5. The Chap - We Work in Bars
Almost as thrilling as Earlimart's "We Drink on the Job" was to my 18-year-old self. But this one feels whimsical. And is the first song that makes me consider moving to Europe and becoming a bartender.
6. Belle & Sebastian - I Want the World to Stop
I'm sorry, but how do you not love this song the minute you hear it? Pure pop glory.
7. Kelly Stoltz - Pinecone
I listened to this song on repeat for an entire week when Sub Pop first sent it to me. I gave it a break. I came back to it. Not sure if this is possible, but I love it more. It's kinda Beatles/60s, and it's kind of cheesy (jazz flute), and I'm ok with that. I'm more than ok. I'm great.
8. Sun Airway - Waiting on You
How many people am I going to have to brag about Philadelphia's Sun Airway to until they become huge? This song floats on air, hovering above all other songs. It is on a higher plane. It is my dog, if she sprouted wings and lost her attitude and became graceful. Actually, on second thought, it's nothing like my dog.
9. Motorifik - Ghosts
Everyone compares everyone to U2, but I'm going to compare this to U2. I own every U2 album, listened to them every day of my childhood, and went to see them when I was 10 at the stadium in Columbus. Therefore I can sort of legitimately claim to know and love U2, thus making my comparison of Motorifik to U2 only slightly superficial. This song just has a bigness and a greater purpose. It has a profundity.
10. Deerhunter - Helicopter
Music to be blissful to. I just want to lay down and think about the significance of the world.
11. Phantogram - As Far as I Can See
Did any album in 2010 have more amazing singles than Phantogram's Eyelid Moves? Maybe. But these sound so original and really special. This song is quiet, and it's on the edge, a lethal combination.
12. Cloud Nothings - Hey Cool Kids
Lo-fi, amazing melody, play-on-repeat caliber.
13. Sufjan Stevens - Futile Devices
Good ol' Sufjan left us this peaceful, gorgeous folk tune. It was the calm before the storm of The Age of Adz , which twisted our minds in ways we didn't know it could.
14. The Tallest Man on Earth - I Won't Be Found (Daytrotter Session from '09)
Sweden's Kristian Matsson has a voice that knocks me down on my knees. I can't help but completely melt every time I hear this. Not sure why Grey's Anatomy hasn't caught on to this yet.
15. Villagers - Home
Conor O'Brien is my songwriting hero. My next post will be an in-depth interview I did with him for Under the Radar, where he reveals to me how he makes his magic.

What songs am I missing? What do you love?

Share the love.

Glasser - Home

2010-11-05T18:48:00.000-04:00

Are we in heaven or what?

Happy weekend. Bliss out.

Best Coast vs. Jenny & Johnny

2010-11-05T00:21:00.003-04:00

It could be 31 degrees, icicles dripping down the sides of my gutters and hanging off my eyebrows. I could be struggling to breathe, the wind catching in my lungs like a trap, suctioning all life from my chest.

It could be the kind of day where your arms feel sticky, as if they were traps for mosquitoes. The zipper on your top burns marks into your chest. Sweat drips from your hair.

I don't care what it is. I don't care how cold or how hot or if I'm on a business trip in Arizona or I'm hibernating under my covers. I could be in France, I could be in Zimbabwe. I might be stepping onto a plane, I might be digging a hole in the sand.

I don't care.

Best Coast makes the kind of music that just makes me feel good. It's the kind of carefree whimsy that I want my every action to reflect. It's 60's and it's modern, it's the past and it's so very right now. It's edgy and it's sugary. It's everything at once, and it's brutal and honest, and sometimes you get this unmistakable urge to blurt out the lyrics at the top of your lungs.

I don't care that you say it's simple and vacant and that Bethany Cosentino makes shallow, shallow songs about her selfish life. Don't pretend like you aren't selfish and self-righteous and indulgent sometimes. You are probably selfish all the time. (Unless you have kids. I've heard that changes things.) And don't pretend like her music has less worth than some more snobbish high art form.

Don't put her on a list of "overrated albums of the year." Just don't even make those lists. Those lists are worthless and hurtful and aren't contributing anything productive to our society. I talk about bands that bug me all day long, but I'm not going to waste my time or anyone else's writing it down.

Best Coast is relatable and it's easy, and sometimes I don't want to have to try that hard to like music. We're not talking Ne-Yo here. We're talking real songs and real instruments and real talent. But it's not challenging. For a change, that's nice.

Jenny & Johnny: I haven't listened to you much. I enjoy a does of Rilo Kiley every now and then, and I have been championing Johnathan Rice since he released Further North in 2007. And let me tell you: nobody cared about Rice in 2007. I couldn't even convince my mom to listen to him, let alone my college radio pals. But I never was the kind of fiend that sat like a really drool-y dog waiting for a denta-bone as I anticipated the next Jenny Lewis album.

That said, with my limited knowledge of Jenny & Johnny separately and collectively, I must say, I love the song, "Big Wave." It's airy - some badass guitars cut through big huge passages of sunshine and openness. Lewis' vocals are the perfect mix of whiny and strong, and the chorus is as glorious as any pop song released in 2010.

Still, all I can think of is Best Coast.

How is this song even a little bit different than Best Coast's "Crazy For You"? Same woozy oohs and ahhs, same summer glory. West coast, best coast, best couple, couple of hits. I'm all over the sound. It's not original, nor is it new or special.

Yet it's wonderful.
Crazy For You by Best Coast by Pam Ribbeck

Big Wave by Jenny And Johnny

Mark Ronson - Catchiest Song of the Year?

2010-11-04T23:11:00.002-04:00

I mean, really. I have not been this psyched up after listening to a song since Estelle and Kanye West did "American Girl." Mark Ronson's latest work - "Bang Bang Bang" - off his debut, Record Collection, is to die for. I want to bounce, I want to shuffle, I want to swagger. (I'm not really much of a swagger-er. I probably look like I'm faking a bad limp. Once, when I was a junior in high school, they cast me as the Artful Dodger in the school musical. He's Oliver Twist's best friend, and I was supposed to teach him how to be a pickpocket. The directors of the play spent about 3 weeks trying to teach me how to walk more like a little boy. I think I really just ended up looking like I was limping and sticking my crotch out. I mean, can I really help that I walk like a lady? These are things that take lifetimes to change. I'm not Halle Berry or anything. I can't just be a Monster's Ball or get fat immediately or go all Hilary Swank and win awards for playing a man. I am just not that talented.)

Anyway, this video is pretty great. Without further ado, I present to you, the catchiest song of 2010. I didn't say the best - I said the catchiest.

Matt & Kim - Sidewalks

2010-10-29T15:41:00.002-04:00

The energy that Matt & Kim draw forth in their music is equivalent to an army of 10 year olds riding on pogo sticks with a sugar high. Like their raucous live show, the Brooklyn-based duo’s third album continues their music tenure with the kind of sprightly joy that could make even the most jaded cynic crack a smile. Sidewalk’s beats bounce side to side with a structured rhythmic power that never feels too anxious. The secret lies in pure simplicity; you can hear every single layer of each song. While the recipe seems simple—squiggly synths and catchy keyboard earworms mixed with an all-over-the-place beat—Matt & Kim throw magic dust into their drinking water. Nerdy electronics zip through “Red Paint” like bolts of lightning, heightening the song to exhilarating levels of adrenaline. Matt’s vocals are easy to sing along with, especially in the hooky first single, “Cameras,” where they declare to the Facebook generation, “no time for cameras/we’ll use our eyes instead.” It might be the most genuine anthem the duo has ever written. After all, Matt & Kim’s lyrics are often a collection of specific observations of life around them, citing specific examples of everyday life, like “sleeping on the ground/grass is much greener from down here” in “Ice Melts” and “notebooks filled with lines/and the clocks filled with good times” in “Where You’re Coming From.” Who to better explore the delight of capturing life through memories instead of digital images? “Silver Tiles” builds up slowly, opening up to the ultimate party jam, with talks of hopes and friends amidst spazzy synth buzzing and warm melodies. While many of us gave up childhood bliss long ago, selling our pogo sticks and switching our candy addictions to coffee, Matt & Kim are still around to bring the fun back into life.

On Cloud 9 with Cloud Nothings

2010-10-27T10:30:00.004-04:00

Find the original article below in the Cleveland Scene. I love this paper and the city it lives in. Oh, and check out Cloud Nothings Monday at the Beachland Ballroom because I cannot and I guarantee it's going to be amazing.

Dylan Baldi is a music digger, one of those kids who searches obsessively on websites and at record stores for new tunes. He's vague about his actual sources, but you get the impression that he gets his favorite new low-fi records from an obscure noise blog written by some kid in Idaho or maybe from a friend of a friend who runs a tiny record label outside of Seattle.

Most people probably never heard of the bands Baldi says are his current faves: Julian Lynch, Big Trouble, Ducktails. But Baldi — who records as Cloud Nothings — doesn't care how big they are, and he certainly isn't paying attention to their production values. What matters most to him are the melodies at the core of the songs.

But don't mistake him for one of those cooler-than-you PBR-sippin' music snobs you want to slap silly. The Westlake native laughs as he confesses that his favorite melody right now can be heard in a Top 10 song: Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream."

The 19-year-old Baldi's low-fi recordings are a long way from Perry's mass-produced pop dreams — he plugged a microphone into his computer to make every single instrument heard on his debut album, Turning On — but they feature the same catchy hooks that make them just as irresistible. "It's definitely the way the melody works over everything else," he says.

That's no more evident than in the first song Baldi wrote under the Cloud Nothings moniker, "Hey Cool Kid." At the time, he was a Case Western Reserve University student. And as he had done before with other songs, he posted "Hey Cool Kid" on his MySpace page.

But there was something special about this one. Otherwise, the song would have simply rotted in cyberspace like so many other cuts posted by kids making music in their parents' basements. But "Hey Cool Kid" caught on, thanks to a familiar-sounding intro groove that eventually settles into a big, catchy, and super-clean melody.

It's hard to make out a lot of the track's nuances. For one thing, the highs and lows are pretty much nonexistent. For another, Baldi's voice is mostly hidden inside a repeating guitar riff. The casual nature of Baldi's songs gives them a sense of coolness and whimsy — a happy medium between toe-tapping dance rock and sleepytime indie rock.

But Cloud Nothings' music is also scruffy, loaded with charisma, and down-to-earth fun. You can't understand what Baldi is singing about most of the time, but that's not the point. "It's not about the lyrics," he says. "I write about imaginary scenarios that could happen to people."

The music's charm comes from the low-fi sound of the homemade recordings. Baldi says he made the record in his parents' basement out of necessity, but it ended up becoming a badge of honor. "Luckily, [low-fi recording is] a cool thing to do right now," he laughs. "It happened to work out for me."

After hearing some of Cloud Nothing's music, Bridgetown Records — a small label in La Puente, California — contacted Baldi about releasing Turning On at the end of 2009. The album was recently reissued by Carpark, a bigger indie label that will put out Cloud Nothings' second album during the first couple months of 2011. Baldi is working on that record now.

In March, Baldi gathered a few local musicians and went on his first tour as Cloud Nothings. He booked the entire run himself, asking bands around the country if Cloud Nothings could open for them. They now have someone to do that kind of stuff for them, which is a huge weight off Baldi's shoulders — especially since the group will soon be heading overseas for its first European tour.

Famous landmarks (Baldi says he's pumped to see the Eiffel Tower), sold-out shows (Cloud Nothings have opened for buzz band Wavves), and a booming blogosphere fan base — not bad for a kid who was making music in his parents' basement not so long ago.

The biggest problem these days is keeping sane during long van rides from city to city. So Baldi and his bandmates listen to Jock Jam mixes, fret over their haircuts, and talk about their favorite Cleveland restaurants. Sure beats wondering if the washer and dryer are going to mess up that song you're working on.

Deerhunter - Live Review - Beachland Ballroom

2010-10-22T08:29:00.007-04:00

At a Deerhunter show, you live and die by Bradford Cox’s guitar. While the remaining three members hold each song steady, Cox submerges the atmosphere in rushing distortion and sporadic soloing, all laced with incredible technical skill.

When the Atlanta-based band stopped through Cleveland last night in support of their fourth album, Halcyon Digest, they played a set list heavy on their new tunes, mixing in older audience favorites like “Don’t Stop.” As they ripped through their opening song, “Desire Lines,” Cox lifted his guitar straight up into the air, deliberately picking a soaring riff while rhythm guitarist Lockett Pundt held the vocals. Cox took over the mic for most of the set, with Pundt reappearing later in the night with “Fountain Stairs.”

Halfway through the set, “Memory Boy” and “Rainwater Cassette Exchange” were rendered short, punchy, and rhythmic-based, striking a contrast to “Don’t Cry,” where the pace changes several times and crescendos hit the crowd like sledgehammers. At the end of the song, Cox proudly told the audience he wrote it as a tribute to Cleveland’s own Pere Ubu.

At times, the guitars felt like weapons, Cox moving his hand impossibly fast across the bridge and rendering a ‘60s surf vibe into something scarier and more ambient. Yet Deerhunter also released the crowd into a relaxed trance, closing with an extended version of “He Would Have Laughed,” the last song on Halcyon Digest.

The contrast between clean and dirty sounds, both in terms of feedback levels and melodic succinctness, was a constant reminder that Deerhunter cannot be pinned down. While most of the crowd walked out of the ballroom dazed with the show’s intensity, Cox remained on the stage, his ax aside, to talk with fans.

Avi Buffalo Interview

2010-10-20T20:03:00.004-04:00

I did this interview back in March, and another last week. I'm totally obsessed with the thought that Avi puts behind his answers, and his quiet insight. More in-depth article to come!

Avi Buffalo Interview by nomistakeinmixtape

Avi Buffalo Dispels Rumors

2010-10-19T23:25:00.003-04:00

NME did an interview with Avi Buffalo last week, making a big deal that his sophomore album is influenced by Dr. Dre. As I suspected, the whole thing was exaggerated.

As told to me by Avi,

“That was just terrible, evil music journalists. The line the guy asked me was what I was interested in making as a record, and I used The Chronic as an example that kind of takes the listener on a journey or an adventure. It has things like sound effects between songs, and I thought that was neat, and I’d like to learn how to organically produce something like that in the studio. And of course I hear that the headline is ‘Avi Buffalo Draws Influence from Dr. Dre for His Next Record,’ which is totally and completely blown out of proportion and not one example of something. All sorts of sounds, songs we’ve been listening to on the road from Arthur Russell to The Chronic to The Band, and John Lennon, and just good old music is what we’re probably going to want to be drawing from.”

Photo from OC Weekly

I Want:

2010-10-19T10:34:00.003-04:00

a table made of disco balls.

When I was little, I used to dance around the family room table with my dad and sister to Hall & Oates and even U2. All the time. This activity would be so much livelier with three disco balls in the middle of the table!

Image from Fashion Toast.

Someone Please Remind Me

2010-10-18T23:31:00.002-04:00

to write a long blog post about my sincere love for Dashboard Confessional, and how I think it shaped my entire adolescence within the short period of two years.

this is a little late, but:

2010-10-17T19:10:00.002-04:00

i wrote this about a show tonight.

Solid Gold

2010-10-07T06:57:00.001-04:00

Every day should feel like this. Make it happen for yourself.

I'm going to hire the Eagles of Death Metal to follow me everywhere I go, playing this song.

SWEAT!

Sufjan Stevens - The Age of Adz

2010-10-06T22:37:00.002-04:00

Sufjan Stevens is not above using a vocoder – the same digital technology that gives Kanye West and T-Pain their signature alien-smooth vocals. In fact, on his first original album since 2005’s Illinois, a collection of acoustic and banjo tracks backed by an orchestra, Stevens doesn’t shy away from the extraterrestrial or bizarre. You wouldn’t expect it from The Age of Adz’s sweet-as-a-cherry opener, “Futile Devices,” but the album swirls with complex, spastic electronic material. Three minutes into Adz, you hear the spaceships landing and laser guns hitting wall after wall of psychedelic, ominous synthesizers. The Michigan native adds tormented vocals, a brass section, choirs, and string instruments to his electronic compositions. It’s not his first time Stevens has gone beat-crazy; his second album, released 9 years ago, showcased his interest in electronic music in an even more extreme setting – without vocals. On Adz, he pushes artistic boundaries, at times challenging his listeners to open their minds to a style that stretches far from the quiet beauty of religious songs like “To Be Alone With You,” or the detailed storytelling of “John Wayne Gacy, Jr,” which both contain little more than an acoustic guitar. Stevens spends 25 minutes closing the album with the mind-bending “Impossible Soul.” It encapsulates everything the enigmatic songwriter has been striving for: beauty, manic musicianship, creative fusion, and most importantly, a sort of alienation – both sonic and literal.

Sufjan and Vegas Nightclubs

2010-10-06T00:44:00.002-04:00

I can't say I'm happy to be back in Cleveland, but I can't say I'm unhappy. I feel like I've had months worth of experiences in the past week. Things are moving at breakneck speed, and I mean that in more serious terms than Tokyo Police Club on their last album. I'm floating in and out of my own understanding of myself. What is my identity? Who in the world am I? Do any other 23 year olds feel so puzzled by the constantly changing nature of their lives?

I don't know whether to write about Sufjan Stevens and his new incomprehensible album, or about the nightclub scene in Las Vegas. For some reason, neither of them feels real to me.

-----------

We stepped into Tao, a club in the Venitian. We went through the red ropes, insisting that Javier at the Red Rock put us on the VIP list.

When we stepped inside, what we saw looked a lot like what some dude captured on his blog. Nearly nude Asians washing each other in a bathtub. Glasses of $1100 champagne, passed into our hands without questions asked or money exchanged. Girls in thongs that glimmered with the same kind of string lights you might hang up in an overly cheesy dorm room. Men in loose ties. Waitresses with four pens in their cutoff jean short pockets.

Sitting on the couch, this Ohio girl repeatedly tried to shut her jaw, which seemed to drop open at the slightest happening.

But who am I kidding? This was ridiculous, but the reason I write about Tao is the music. The DJ was changing songs at 30 second intervals - not in a manner that he messed up or picked the wrong song - rather, it was a dance party for the perennially ADD tourists and Vegas regulars. Songs melded together, from LL Cool J's "Phenomenon" to Katy Perry's "California Gurls." Pinging between rap songs that I'll never know the titles to but will always know the words to and pop hits that were somehow turned trendier and skankier in the surroundings, it was an absolutely immersive experience.

The speakers were glowing. We were yelling to understand each other, or whispering in one another's ears. It was living a dream in the sense that this wasn't real - or was it real? Vegas runs on appearances, on the image, on making something into something that it's not. The glamour and the talent and the beauty and the richness and the grandeur are what meets the eye, yet not what you go to sleep understanding.

------------------

What can we go to sleep understanding about Sufjan Stevens' The Age of Adz? Reality and surreality flutter in and out of these songs, colored by a mechanical, technical chamber choir. The songs are real, but much like Vegas, they feel strangely out of place in my life, and they reek of that same sort of overwhelming expansiveness. It is difficult to see myself in this music; the difficulty lies in finding a point of reference that I can relate to myself.

Listenability. I don't think it was a factor in Stevens' writing or recording process. If he is making art for the sake of being artistic, that's fine. However, as of my 3rd listen, I don't have anything to grasp onto. It's like providing me with an obstacle course that involves full body strength and skill, then taking away my legs and refusing me prosthetic ones. How can I appreciate it if the tools are not provided? I can try to cultivate those tools on my own, but by the end of my experience, will it be gratifying? Will I enjoy the very difficult ride?

Individual songs are beautiful. I step inside "Futile Devices" like I step inside layers of plush blankets on the first cold day of winter. The sparse quality, hushed vocals, and stomach-pit-creating acoustic guitar plucking is the stuff of dreams.

"Get Real Get Right" stands in the middle of the album, a totem pole of impossibly confusing faces and symbols that don't make sense if you don't have an oral history of the tribe who carved it. Noises, effects, new ideas, multimedia, digital sound, haunting choirs, grating synthesizers, beeps, uneven percussion that replicates the unstable innerworkings of an MRI machine. All of these ideas and more are layered and layered into a musical piece that takes some real determination to appreciate. It's not impossible to enjoy, but Stevens is really making it a challenge.

My friend Will said that many of the songs, upon further listen, seem to be nearly impossible to recall, or, rather, he doesn't remember which ones he wants to hear again. That might be the worst thing a real music fan can say about an album. What is an album that initially sounds good but holds no place in your memory? Not all music has to be sticky. But I think it should draw you in and keep you there on its own merits.

---------------

I guess I go to sleep wondering about merits. What is real, and what can we believe in? If our music changes in rapid succession, and our focus isn't held on any one thing long enough, and we are overridden in life by distraction, how can we develop deeper connections? And what makes it all worth it?

Young Studs in Love - Band of Horses

2010-10-03T22:52:00.003-04:00

Not too long ago, Creighton Barrett took his mother to see Eclipse, the third movie in the Twilight series. A theater full of screaming Jacob and Edward fans isn't where you might expect to see a 32-year-old rock dude. But the Band of Horses drummer had something special to share with his mom: One of his band's songs is on the movie's soundtrack.

But most of the time, says Barrett, he cringes when he hears his music. It's not that he isn't proud of what his band is doing; it's just that he'd rather be listening to Kid Cudi, Gayngs' bedroom R&B, or some kind of Turkish psychedelic rock — all of which are the furthest thing from Band of Horses' sweet, sprawling ballads and colorful Americana indie rock.

Barrett joined Band of Horses shortly after frontman Ben Bridwell encouraged his old friend to move to Seattle. Barrett and Bridwell met as teens in South Carolina, but moved to Washington in the early part of the millennium because of the city's fruitful music scene. While Bridwell was playing with Carissa's Wierd, Barrett spent his time drumming for punk, metal, and math-rock bands.

In 2004, Bridwell formed Horses (the "Band of" part came a little later), and Barrett had to relearn how to play this new music. "[It was difficult] coming from the background I'm used to, which is like retarded, whatever-you-want [drumming]," says Barrett. "Just being able to smash things behind the kit is a lot easier for me than being the anchor and really locking down on it and being the guy who's driving the bus."

An anchor is exactly what Band of Horses' songs need. The title track to their third and latest album, Infinite Arms, sounds like rushing waves crashing on the shore before they gently recede. The tug and pull comes from Bridwell's sweet-as-honey vocals and Tyler Ramsey's gooey guitar droplets. Creighton ties these airy melodies together with slight and subtle cymbal crashes.

The five-piece band — whose current lineup came together after the release of 2007's Cease to Begin — excels at creating delicate love songs and the kind of harmonies that make you tip your head back at the end of a long day and sigh. "I've always been enamored with harmonies, but I've never been in a band with anyone who could sing," says Barrett. Now that he is, his perspective has shifted. "I really learned melody and harmony from these guys, and it's really changed my mind about everything."

New songs like "Blue Beard" show off the group's quiet balladry, as do favorites from the first two albums. Cease to Begin's "Detlef Schrempf" — named after a German-born pro basketball player who spent time with Seattle's former team, the Supersonics — floats on intricate finger-picking and an all-encompassing wash of keys. "The Funeral," from the band's 2006 debut, Everything All the Time, swells from reverb-tossed acoustics to a full-on rocker.

Infinite Arms features more sonically huge and upbeat numbers than the first two Band of Horses albums. Barrett says they were going through a lot of changes during the writing and recording of the record. They left Seattle and returned to sunnier Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina, to be closer to their families. Plus, Bridwell wrote several songs while he was preparing to become a father for the first time.

And sometimes, simply enough, an album just calls for some upbeat songs. "You just kinda need a faster song just to make the record flow or to make some songs stick out from the others," says Barrett. "You kinda just need some pop in there."

"Dilly," which Ramsey wrote, pops to life with a hooky chorus. And "NW Apt." is a sharp turn from Infinite Arms' slower songs, with guitars growling as Barrett thrillingly speeds over his percussion fills.

The album took two years to record, while the group was flying to Europe to play festival shows, pouring the money they made back into studio costs. Phil Ek produced parts of Infinite Arms, but by the time the record was in the can, the band was working almost entirely by itself. Barrett says they found this somewhat spontaneous process helpful.

"We would come home at night after spending a long day in the studio, and we would listen to everyone's demos, and we'd be like, 'Oh my God, we need to work on that — it's rad!'" he recalls. "So the next day we'd go in there and work on that song from scratch. It was like a living will or something. It was crazy.

"But it's hard to say what we were set on making," he adds. "We were changing it all the time. What we knew is that we had the chance to showcase this lineup, which is a solid lineup for the first time."

Find it at Cleveland Scene.

Vegas, Baby

2010-09-29T15:12:00.002-04:00

My slow down in posting is due to this:

I'm in this wild city, working 15 hour days, still trying to make it to the strip. Live on Elvis!

Best Coast, Male Bonding Cleveland Concert Review

2010-09-22T01:30:00.003-04:00

Beat Connection

2010-09-19T22:34:00.000-04:00

Trust me on this one. "Sunburn" is my end of summer jam.
<a href="http://beatconnection.bandcamp.com/album/surf-noir-ep">Surf Noir EP by Beat Connection</a>

Matt & Kim Tonight @ Grog Shop

2010-09-16T11:42:00.002-04:00

Matt & Kim are two Brooklyn pals — Matt Johnson and Kim Schifino — who also happen to be the happiest and most carefree dance-punk duo touring the country right now. Whenever they’re onstage, they break out huge smiles and get real goofy — a perfect complement to their ecstatic music. Matt & Kim write giddy and assertive songs for kids who just want to let loose and dance their guts out. “Gardens and trashcans/Hoodies and Chuck Ts/Arms, fingers, and hands/Don’t slow down,” goes one tune. Drummer Schifino crafts hooky beat patterns and sings backup; Johnson takes lead vocals and adds spastic synth and keyboard riffs to his arsenal. They make a lot of noise, pounding and jumping on their instruments, and engaging audiences in singalong dance parties. You’ve probably heard “Daylight” in commercials for candy bars, Bacardi, and the Xbox over the past few months. Matt & Kim’s new single, “Cameras,” previews their upcoming album, Sidewalks. You can hear the whole record a couple of months before it comes out if you show up to the show early. They’re hosting pre-concert listening parties at each stop on their current tour.

The Other California Girl

2010-09-15T16:15:00.003-04:00

When you listen to Best Coast's debut album, Crazy for You, you're hearing singer Bethany Cosentino's life. Piles of reverb coat the Los Angeles native's songs about love, longing, and regret. There's also occasional giddiness thrown in there for good measure. Surf-pop guitars brush over her insecurities, while Bobb Bruno's scuzzy bass lines blare beneath it all.

Crazy for You is one of the most direct and honest albums of the year, laying out the life of a 23-year-old woman making her way through the best and worst of uncertain times. She deals with present-day concerns by looking back on a simpler part of her life. But Cosentino doesn't hide from her anxieties; instead, she proudly shares her emotions with anyone who wants to listen.

Not so surprisingly, many of Cosentino's mixed-up feelings have to do with boys — the ones she loves, the ones she longs for, the ones who left her behind, and the ones who'll break her heart. "You're the one for me/You make me happy," she sings in the garage rocker "Happy." Twenty seconds later, in the next song, she's pleading, "I just wish that you would tell me/Is this real, or are we through?"

But Cosentino also sings about her cat, weed, and fighting laziness. Throughout Crazy for You, her voice — a mix of sweetness and rebellion — makes her lyrics sound painfully real. In "When I'm With You," she repeats, "When I'm with you I have fun" more than 20 times. It's as straightforward as a Ke$ha song, encouraging fans to sing along. But it also prompts them to....

Read the rest at Cleveland Scene.

Common Grackle - The Great Depression

2010-09-12T15:28:00.003-04:00

The press release describes this song by comparing it to "the somber confessionals of Elliott Smith, re-worked by Dangermouse."

I don't think that's necessarily pinning it at all, but it's a great song!

Common Grackle - The Great Depression

Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin @ Grog Shop Tonight

2010-09-12T06:15:00.000-04:00

Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin released Let it Sway, their third album, a few weeks ago. Despite the laid-back, reggae-implying album title, the Springfield, Missouri foursome is sticking to the same playful, exuberant indie pop they introduced us to on their 2005 debut, Broom. Now they are swaying in addition to sweeping, twisting their bedroom pop beginnings into songs that are full, melodic, and beautiful. “Stuart Gets Lost Dans Le Metro” slowly explores gently crafted acoustic guitar and impassioned memory-filled lyrics, while “Sink/Let it Sway” kicks with as much as energy as early SSLYBY favorites like “Oregon Girl.” The band gets away with its saccharine harmonies and overall peppiness with a little sense of humor. “Dead Right” taunts us with warnings like, “You’re gonna lose it/If you don’t choose it,” playing off the old saying “if you don’t use it, you…” – you get the point. The band named itself after a favorite Russian president, and continues to jest us with tracks like “All Hail Dracula” (“All Hail Dracula/I really think we could be friends/I’ll let you suck my blood/If you wanna know how I taste”). They have the kind of relationship with fans that recently helped them raise enough money to buy a new tour bus, and the new donation brings them back to Ohio.

Jess Harvell on The Thermals

2010-09-10T10:50:00.003-04:00

Two great lines, one review!

"Hope when all evidence suggests you should despair, honest confusion offered in place of stock rhetoric, music that sounds like it's fueled as much by joy as rage: The Thermals' moral indignation is never a bummer."

I think I just like this quote because one of my friends who I worked with at the radio station used to play The Thermals all the time, so I associate them with him a little. And he always called stuff a bummer. Harvell is using one very average, everyman word to sum up what The Thermals are NOT - that makes the intelligent point he's making relatable on a very basic level. And I like when writing is relatable. We're all just big music geeks, right?

Also, this one:

"You sure as hell can't imagine them writing a grand concept album kvetching about suburban sprawl."

Anyone who uses Yiddush and finds a way to mock Arcade Fire's new album in the same sentence just cracks me up, regardless of my fandom for Arcade Fire.

With his concluding paragraph, I think he's spot on:

"I have to admit that I do miss the messy, noisy, get-it-done-in-under-two-minutes Thermals. They were just so good at the ramshackle thing, the feeling that they were racing toward the finish line before one or all of their amps exploded. Personal Life is hardly a failure; much of it is excellent. But it's also missing that anger-meets-energy urgency that made the Thermals' early albums so undeniable."

I still think the album deserves a higher rating, though.

New Japandroids Song!

2010-09-09T20:35:00.004-04:00

I hate everything in life at this specific moment (i.e. a publicist screwed me over, my great aunt hit my car tonight), but I'm pretty stoked about this new Japandroids song!

So let's say it together, "I. LOVE. JAPANDROIDS. I. LOVE. JAPANDROIDS."

They make the bad go away. This is the best therapy you can get without paying a psychiatrist, trust me.

Japandroids - Heavenward Grand Prix

Buy lots of their stuff here, and I mean it.

I've ranted so much on this blog about how I love these two guys, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I don't know what kind of people they are - they could be horrible people - but I don't really care because I will blatently ignore all their bad characteristics in favor of embracing my love for them as a collective group. Their bromance interaction is just about the best thing I've seen on stage in a crappy punk club, and their careless enthusiasm (GUSTO, I tell you, GUSTO) has won me over twice now.

I would stand on my roof for 20 hours in the middle of an awful winter day to get tickets to their concert, if I had to.

I'd probably jump of somebody's balcony onto a trampoline (if the conditions were right and I wasn't going to die) to see their faces.

I would listen to their music for a week straight, without stopping, if that was what I needed to do to prove my love.

That said, this new song is probably not their best song ever. So don't listen to this one first and be like, 'that blogger is totally unreliable and reckless and she's a complete moron for jumping off balconies,' you know? Like, give them more of a chance than this song.

And then when you fall in love with them too, maybe we can start a fan club. We won't do geeky fan club things like make buttons (ok maybe we'll make buttons) or send out postcards with their pictures. We'll just, like, sit on my carpet and play their music really loud, and then we'll bring it to the living room and just jump around a little bit (but we won't mosh because I hate moshing), and then we'll just have a good meal and talk about the merit of being a member of Japandroids, and then we can toast to Brian King and David Prowse, and talk about how much fun it is to eat an entire bag of twizzlers in one sitting, because that is irrelevant to the subject of Japandroids, and by that time I think we'll probably need to mix things up a little bit. And then we can buy bags of twizzlers....

Ok, you get the point.

Just have a good night. Don't let your family members back into your car. Don't let publicists push you into a 3-month long waiting game and then give you an interview with the wrong band member and make you do it 12 hours later when your deadline is next week. Don't do those things!

Just listen to this song, ok?

If you read this whole post, which I might later subtitle 'Rant of a Crazy Girl,' I feel bad for you. You obviously have nothing better to do than read a bunch of chicken scratch on the internet.

If you made it this far in the post, I love you always forever near and far closer together (that was a bad phrasing of The Cardigans' "Lovefool." I also want to mention their great song "For What It's Worth," which might be better than "Lovefool," and I think I want to write my next blog post about this.)

Music, Undergroundism, Iran, Prison

2010-09-08T22:30:00.002-04:00

So I'm reading this article in the last issue of Paste ever (hypothetical tears are running down my cheek as i slowly savor and dread the end of this magazine) about the movie Persian Cats, and its subject, the underground rock scene in Iran. I'm just thinking about the fact that the whole world is so big and so culturally different that there are literally places where people go to jail for playing concerts. And at first, I thought, 'man, rock and roll would be SO much more badass if you went to jail for playing it.' And then I thought about it seriously, and how really messed up the whole idea is. The backwards idea that music and culture and style in the middle east is wrong, and one should be refined to traditionalism, anti-creativity, and the standards.

I mean, we're constantly pushing the boundaries in life - all the time. Countries are competing for the best inventions, which will make them the most money. They want the most educated, brilliant people, so those people can bring ideas and make them flourish, and people will live happier, healthier, and possibly more satisfying lives. (Then again, that's only SOME countries. Some are anti-progress.)

So what's this thing in the Middle East (and let's talk Iran specifically) that is so against "progress" that a band cannot create Western music without it being controversial? I guess this argument could take a lot longer to develop than I'm doing, and I've never been a very good logical arguer because my thoughts are sporadic and out of order, but I guess what I'm trying to say is: ok, Iran isn't really trying to invent a new way of living (although I'm sure they're working on some pretty sophisticated bombs and weapons, and that counts as inventiveness), and progress can be seen as extreme evil (which, to some extent, in certain contexts, I understand), but the extent to which they are able to block any artistic expression of the younger generation is just exacerbating. They can quell politics and certain religions and oppress women and make people wear a certain type of clothing, but then even have to take away the most (or one of the most) elemental forms of art experimentation - music. How does a young person, in the internet age, live in a world where they are so restricted and so closed off - unless they are completely sheltered from what they could have?

I don't know what I'm trying to say. I'm not trying to sound like an American brat who can't comprehend a 22-year-old Iranian's situation, but in all reality, I can't comprehend it.

The article in Paste talks about how the internet is the one thing that opens up a new world to the youth generation in Iran, and for this, I think we need to be thankful. They can find different music and explore different worlds and step outside of their box. And of course, there are so much more important things than music that the internet can teach us. Like I said earlier, I'm just thinking on this very specific music level here, and I'm not trying to make it sounds like I think musical freedom is more important than social or political freedom or so many other types of freedom. It's just one very specific restriction that I bring up after reading this article.

My blog has readers in 36 countries, and I was just thinking of how amazing it is that I - a 22-year-old girl from a cluster of suburbs in Northeast Ohio - can share my thoughts, experiences, and songs with so many people of different cultures and backgrounds.

What do you guys think about people going to jail for listening to/playing rock music?

Happy Birthday - Girls FM

2010-09-07T17:00:00.001-04:00

In the words of the great Andrew WK:

Make every day a party.
Happy Birthday - Girls FM by musicmule

Villagers Interview

2010-09-06T20:28:00.006-04:00

Yo! Click on the title of this post to hear my interview with Conor O'Brien of Villagers. The dude might win the UK's Mercury Prize tomorrow.

On top of that, he's just generally interesting, witty, and he knows damn well how to write the perfect song. Maybe if you listen, you'll learn the secret to his success.

Or, if you're like me, you'll fall over sighing, and wishing he would just come to town and sweep you off your feet. (This comment applies to males or females. Males, I think he's probably worth going gay for.)

Why Paste is Like Cheap Beer and How it Affects Me

2010-09-03T14:25:00.004-04:00

I wasn’t going to say anything about the demise of Paste. I was just going to let others do the talking, and there’s a lot of talking being done. But then I came home to eat dinner with my family, and all of these words just started flowing out of my mouth. I couldn’t believe it, while at the same time I could. We knew the magazine wasn't doing so well, but how could something so treasured and so special and so, ugh, just vital to my music culture just end?

I had to explain to my parents what had happened. I spent the entire meal doing so. They all see me daily, obsessing over new albums that come in the mail, and music magazine subscriptions. They know how I covet a job in music journalism, and I get morose about not having one almost every day. And my dream job of all dream jobs… that would be working at Paste. I didn’t and still don’t think that any publication was doing what Paste was doing. I can’t even fathom that that will never happen – I will never write for Paste. It. Is. Gone.

I love blogs, and I love being all viral and internet-y, but despite what the numbers and subscribers and state of journalism and economy all say, there is NOTHING like holding a fantastically-crafted magazine in your hands. I was a broadcast journalism major, and I see the value in video, audio, and multimedia. I still hold magazines on some kind of pedestal. In my childhood, getting something like Highlights in the mail was the best feeling in the world. Wasn't it for you? It’s like getting a really entertaining present every month. I might have grown out of play-doh and barbies, but holding a magazine in my hands, I get the same kind of thrill that I did when I was opening a new bead-making kit.

Paste had some of my favorite music writers out there. Rachael Maddux, Bart Blasengame, and the list goes on... to the point that I don’t even know their names, I just know I loved their work. I had friends who used to find every single piece of new music they listened to from Paste. I gather my tastes from such a range of things (friends, music writing I'm assigned, radio stations I work for, random side gigs as music director, blogs, itunes, hype machine, friends, friends, and oh yeah, magazines), but if you were just going by one source, Paste would be a pretty good one.

It gets scarier and scarier as journalism continues to crumble away and die a sickly death. Arts journalism is a special case, and now that I’ve started reading ARTicles, I get even more scared for the future of culture/art journalism. How will great writers develop when they don’t have any publications left to write for? What will we have to read instead – US Weekly? I gag at the thought.

So many people blame Pitchfork for adding to the demise of magazines. You can’t blame Pitchfork. They are great at what they do (and what they “do” can be defined in several ways – positive AND negative), but people aren’t like “oh I’m only going to go to one source for music journalism.” It’s like saying you like Blue Moon, and you’re not going to drink any other beer for that reason. You’re going to drink different beers in different situations. Yet if Blue Moon gets way cheaper (ok free), and you still have to pay for your PBRs, the model will certainly shift. And that’s when PBR has to just keep on pushing and remind people of why they are so loved. PBR has to become free, in a way, or it better make itself a lot better than it already is. I mean, seriously, journalism is like beer. You can drink for free online (Blue Moon), but you have to pay to drink magazines (PBR). And people just want to get drunk as fast as possible. So, the change really must be in the culture. Let’s figure out a way to get people to realize, it’s not about getting drunk – it’s about enjoying the experience, and maybe spending a little bit of money to engage in an activity that is worthwhile.

So everybody, stand on your platforms, and start rallying for the end of binge drinking! I’m all about the slow and steady, enjoy-the-ride drinking. I'll even pay for it.

Because we don’t want to lose any more Pastes.

Some Snarky Kid...

2010-08-31T00:44:00.002-04:00

said really evil things about a video review I posted on youtube.

I just wanted to see who it was, and what they were up to on youtube, so maybe I could justify my dislike. Yet, when I clicked on their youtube channel, I saw the most recently "favorited" video. I clicked play; it looked mysterious.

I fell in love immediately. Why, this Memoryhouse (from Ontario) went right ahead and sampled Jon Brion's "Phone Call." It's one of the most beautiful songs off the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind soundtrack. Not only is that one of my favorite movies of ever, but it has one of my favorite soundtracks (thank you God Brion).

So Memoryhouse comes along and drags the Jon Brion sample so slowly, making it into a putty of sorts, bending and stretching, and expanding its gorgeousness into one of those songs you want to listen to at bedtime but then can't fall asleep because you keep hitting the repeat button to hear it over and over again.

I am seriously dying right now because I have like 500 words to write about this other equally wonderful band that I'm going to share with you guys soon... but anyway, I just want to, like, submerge myself into a really hot bath and play this Memoryhouse song on repeat about 45 times, until my hands shrivel into prunes and the water turns cold.

I mean, this is just IT.

Here's the song.
Memoryhouse - Lately (Deuxieme)

Here's a slower, acoustic version.
Memoryhouse - Lately (Troisieme)

Here's Jon Brion, genius man's original.
Jon Brion - Phone Call

Love you all. Goodnight to you, top of the evening to me.

Writing for Too Long

2010-08-29T23:46:00.003-04:00

I've spent about 7 hours today writing about music and researching, and this is the end result:

I end up going absolutely insane and trying to incorporate lines like this into my album reviews!

If the song was the delightfully delicate body of a turtle, the sweet lyrical murmurs encase its inner beauty with a protective shell.

Holy crap, who the hell compares chillwave to a turtle?

This is some seriously demented brain work, even for me.

Stop me before I publish this junk!

Pitchfork vs. Paste

2010-08-27T10:33:00.005-04:00

It's seriously like a game of bad cop - good cop. All the damn time.

Pitchfork's take on Chief's new album, Modern Rituals:

"The transcontinental breadth of the band's influences keeps Chief from coming across as pallid piggybackers of any one scene, but for a group that hasn't yet demonstrated an ability to nail down a particular sound, keeping so many balls in the air could be stretching its talents too thin. Perhaps that explains why Chief are rarely better than competent at anything they try to do here." -Joshua Love

Paste's take on Chief's new album, Modern Rituals:

"The members of Chief have great pipes and each song on their debut LP Modern Rituals is centered on a soaring explosion of vocal euphony that could melt the heart of even the most jaded music fan. [...] with the power of their harmony and a few well-arranged standout tracks, Chief have managed to assemble a respectable record, and escape being written off as yet another batch of copycat folkies." -Luke Winkie

I find it mildly funny that Winkie thinks Modern Rituals could melt the heart of "even the most jaded music fan" because he must think Joshua Love is a strange man hanging to a thin piece of earth, dangling into the clutches of hell.

I mean, the contrast in writing here is a jump between intelligent pretentiousness and slightly fluffy fanboyish praise. I definitely enjoy reading praise more than rejection, but then again, I understand that we need to filter the crap out of the music released today (as Pitchfork handily does) to know what's worth our time, and what's just... not.

Guess we'd better just judge for ourselves.

Beach House - White Moon

2010-08-27T08:31:00.000-04:00

Beach House - White Moon (Itunes Session) by subpop
Even stripped down to its very core, Beach House is the essence of beauty. That may sound like a quote from Zoolander, but I really do mean it genuinely. I don't think this group could produce any material I wouldn't want to wrap my arms around and squeeze so tightly I suffocate it.

Listening to Beach House is like taking a warm bath, playing in a room full of bubbles, cuddling with your big, furry dog, and then running through fields of sunflowers, only to crash on the grass giggling with giddy joy.

If you went back to your childhood, and peeked at all your best memories, and then made a little collage of them in one section of your brain to keep on reserve for later, well, I don't know the point I was trying to make here. But think about how happy those great memories make you, and then think about how joyous Beach House songs make you, and compare. I don't think it's really that similar or dissimilar. It's actually a terrible comparison. But I'll sum it up by saying: good memories and Beach House both create happiness, and it's the kind that tingles through your entire body.

There's something to be said about things that affect us that way. And I think it's called love.

The Thermals - Personal Life

2010-08-26T07:17:00.002-04:00

While the music has been straightforward on The Thermals’ four prior releases – fleshy power chords, wiry bass, and the kind of sing-talking that encourages yelling along – the themes have been complex. The Body, The Blood, The Machine, for example, was a concept album about a couple fleeing from a fascist U.S. government. With Personal Life, the band is handling a topic that’s easier to grasp – the struggles and triumphs of a relationship. It’s a familiar theme, but the Portland-based trio’s infectious post-pop makes it impossible to ignore songs with even the simplest ideas or titles (“Never Listen to Me,” “Your Love is So Strong”). They immediately pull listeners into “I Don’t Believe You” with sing-along “Ohh ohhs,” spazzy drums, and hooky guitar that worms itself into every crevice of the brain like a rushing waterfall in a corn maze. Songs like “Power Lies” sprawl out on the straight-to-tape recording, allowing some space between the purring of the bass and intermittent guitar riffs. Personal Life starts with “I’m Gonna Change Your Life” and ends with “You Changed My Life.” The music in between is a hell of a journey that we’re lucky to take with them.

The Thermals - I Don't Believe You
The Thermals - Now We Can See