October 2017 – Eyes Like the Summer

Greetings and salutations devoted reader(s?) — decided to sit down and bang out a post since yesterday’s race has left me unable to do anything more ornate (which is a bit like a fat kid getting winded downing a donut, but I’m dealing with the disgrace). This one’s for all the kids who’ve become devoted RTJ fans the past few years (and good on ya for that, as you should be) to highlight another hip hop “supergroup” that might tickle your fancy if you’re ready to graduate to something new. Similar to Mike and El, it’s another duo of dudes who’d had a string of minor hit solo efforts that decided to join forces to test the gestaltic principles together (spoiler alert — it worked) and ended up dropping some really good albums that surpassed their independent efforts. Coincidentally, they’re also from the same label that El used to run back in the day, Def Jux, so share some of the same sonic elements as their former boss.

Made up of Aesop Rock and Rob Sonic, Hail Mary Mallon first showed up in 2011 with their debut Are You Gonna Eat That?, which was followed three years later with Bestiary, and both of them are sleeper gems. The lead track off the debut, “Church Pants,” is emblematic of the duo’s work — curious/intriguing samples that give way to big, crisp beats and swift, cryptic lyrics that keep you bobbing along even if you can’t quite decipher what they’re rapping about. “When the rats rose up and they broke the silence and assembled on the shores of the closest island, with their folk beside them and their rogue defiance went two by two and awoke the silent…” It may seem like nonsense reading it here, but listen to how effortless and smooth it is below and you’ll see why these guys are so tough to ignore. Sometimes it’s playful, sometimes it’s plain inscrutable, but it’s always catchy and keeps you coming back for more (just in case this is the time you finally crack the code).

Of the two Aesop tends to be the better regarded lyricist — although that’s a real close call. Listen to them trade verses on tracks like “Meter Feeder,” “Table Talk,” “Krill,” and “4am” and you tell me one is demonstrably better than the other — while to my taste Rob is the better beatmaker (as evidenced by his stronger solo outings). All in all, though, it’s a bit like arguing over which of your ladyfriend’s breasts you like better, the left or the right — they’re both pretty solid and together they’ll keep you smiling for years. So check them out below — I’ve assembled some of my favorite tracks from the two albums (the aforementioned songs along with a few others), plus a couple winners from Rob’s equally winning solo stuff to get you started.

As for the odds and sods portion of the post, otherwise known as “the things I would have posted sooner, were it not for my backbreaking, soul crushing job,” I found a couple other items of note this week. First up is this pretty hilarious “Brief History of Radiohead” that Pitchfork did, which among other things nails the “everything they do is the greatest of all time” mentality of some of their fans. Check it out here:

Then it’s the latest single from fellow Scots Franz Ferdinand, who return with a shot of pure disco that shows them moving farther than ever from the indie sounds of their early years (a gravitation in recent years possibly exacerbated by the departure of founding member and guitarist Nick McCarthy last year). It still somehow worms its way in and gets you moving — frontman Alex Kapranos still has an infectious command at the mike. When he’s shouting “now TALK to me, cmon TALK to me” you feel powerless to resist, and the groove doesn’t hurt much either. May not sound quite like what we know and love of them in the past, but it’s still pretty catchy. See for yourself:

And we’ll close with a couple links, the first to a little article on the backstory behind Kevin Morby’s latest single, which is two versions of the same lovely song “Baltimore” (both of which you can hear in the link), and the second is to a quick little laugher from Montreal, which highlights an often overlooked danger (either for how you sing or for who you choose to sing — it’s unclear). Until next time, Sunbeams…

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Another week and the broken record repeats. More nonsense from a nut with a White House, more death from a nut with a gun. And sadly, more mourning over the passing of a cultural icon. Thankfully, one could take refuge from the former in the bountiful gifts of the latter, which partly helped process the surprise of his premature passing, while also providing some comfort from the latest wounds from the others.

I spent a ton of time listening to Petty songs this week and reading articles on his life and impact, and one of the things that consistently came up to describe his loss was just how quintessential he was. Not in terms of “this guy was a huge star and sold a billion records” — even though he was and probably came close over his 40 year career — but more in terms of how quintessential a part he was of so many people’s lives. That’s how I think of Petty — as someone who has been there playing in the background throughout the course of my life — and as such something of a witness to (or even participant in) those key events. And because of how Petty’s songs can make you feel — insert soaring chorus lyric here: like you’re free (free faaaaaaaaallin’)? Like you’re runnin’ down a dream? Like you’re stepping into the greaaaaaaaaat wiiiiiiiiiide ooooopen? — those moments feel more vivid and joyous (or the heartache more intense and bitter).

The articles and comments from numerous musicians were that Petty (and his bedrock solid band the Heartbreakers) seemed like an omnipresent presence in their lives, like no matter where you were in your life there was a touchstone Petty anthem to go along to it. And that’s certainly what happened with me. I can’t remember a specific one anymore, as the dozens of times where he was on the stereo at home or driving around in the backseat with my parents have long since blurred together to a single ongoing memory from my childhood while we sang along to “American Girl,” “Refugee,” or “Breakdown.” Or watching the videos constantly airing on MTV after school and singing along through my teenage years to “Learning to Fly,” “Don’t Come Around Here no More,” “You Don’t Know How it Feels,” or “Mary Jane’s Last Dance.” Or hearing any of a dozen other songs blaring out of people’s dorm rooms (including my own) in college and singing along — “I Won’t Back Down,” “Even the Losers,” “Don’t Do Me Like That,” “You Wreck Me.”

It’s one of the many immutable facts of Petty — he was always there, the versatile soundtrack to every stage of your life and almost any situation, whether party or parting, happiness or heartache. Remembering that reminds me of another immutable fact of Petty — you can’t listen to his songs and not sing along. You could leave him playing passively in the background, while you hummed along and absently sang the words in your head while you went about your day, or actively make him the main event and belt out the lyrics at the top of your lungs, but you can’t hear his stuff and do nothing. (Just try it — put on “The Waiting,” say, and see if you can stop yourself from completing the line “you take it on faith, you take it to the heart — the waaaaaiiiiiting is_________.”)

I’ve found there are a lot of immutable facts about Petty this week — he was quintessentially American, the definition of rock and roll, a down to earth nice guy, and one hell of a songwriter. This last one is unavoidable — you could list 20 songs and describe them as “classics” or “anthems” and you’d still be leaving out a comparable heap that’s as good or better. For all the gems I’ve mentioned here, I’ve left out ones like “I Need to Know,” “You Got Lucky,” “Don’t Come Around Here no More,” and scads more. (“Wildflowers?” “Listen to Your Heart?” “Walls (No. 3)?” It never stops!)

That raises perhaps the most immutable fact about Petty, though — that he’s gone too soon and will sorely be missed. I, for one, will continue to gratefully enjoy the numerous gifts he gave us and say thank you for his doing so. I know I won’t be alone.

Stereogum did a great job on this this week with a bunch of articles and reaction from artists — here are three of my favorites: Why Everybody Loves Tom Petty, A Remembrance, and their staff’s recap of their favorite songs. And in case you were wondering, gun to my head, if I had to choose, here’s mine — vintage narrative lyrics, a little snark and humor, and yet another chorus that delivers an elemental satisfaction as it’s bellowed to the rafters:

We’ll close with a couple random other notes — check out this stripped back performance of “Villains of Circumstance” by Queens on Jools Holland’s show. It showcases one of the band’s secret weapons, frontman Homme’s surprisingly warm voice, as he and Dean Fertita play the track with nothing more than a piano. Quietly powerful stuff.

And then there’s new music from two of my faves, RTJ and Black Pistol Fire. RTJ’s is a single included in the new FIFA2018 game, while Black Pistol just dropped an entire album of goodness on us. I’m still digesting all the treats on the latter, but in the interim enjoy this early standout, “Don’t Ask Why.” I just got back from seeing these guys again live for the umpteenth time and cannot recommend you doing so enough — they are a home run every single time, with Animal smashing away on the cans and the Ragin’ Rooster running around throwing down fireball licks. (As they’re affectionately known in our house.) They’re amazing, so DO NOT miss them. Here’s a chance to hear why:

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Month: October 2017

Hail Mary (Mallon), Full of Breaks

The Biggest Heartbreaker: Petty’s Passing