Sufjan Stevens to Wow Cleveland

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

Miscellaneous Thoughts

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

Volcano Choir - Unmap

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

I Could Smile All Day

Sometimes you get emails that make your day.

Hello Danielle

Hope you had a great holiday weekend.

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

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

The Dodos - Time to Die

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

Japandroids - Post-Nothing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Used to Think Marilyn Manson Was Scary...

Now I just think he's mad.

And absolutely, without a doubt, fascinating.