Now that the last minute negotiations failed and the government is officially shut down, I know what you’re thinking — “If I can’t count on my elected officials to get things done, and civil employees aren’t allowed to come to my rescue now, surely I’m doomed.” And while I see the merit in that logic, and how dark these times seem, I know your need to believe is strong and you haven’t quite given up. So this civil servant isn’t going to let you down. I’m going to save you the only way I know how — by telling the three of you who read this thing about some great music. And do so on my day off. For free. Because the country needs it. And I believe in you. You’re welcome, America.
All kidding aside, one of my favorite things about this time of year — other than this town being largely vacated and the precious two to three weeks of peace that means at the office, on the commute, and just generally day to day as the majority of the sh#$birds are off contaminating other areas — is the abundance of similar year end lists to yours truly’s where kindred spirits offer their highlights and I get to discover bands or albums I might’ve missed during the year. Despite my constant vigilance, there’s always a handful that slip through undetected, so part of the fun is discovering these treasures every year post holidays. Really helps grind out the hardest part of winter, bringing a little warmth to the coldest days of the year.
This year’s been no different, as I’ve already stumbled on a couple new obsessions to share, so what better time than now when you’re in the midst of a crisis of faith and the temperature is hovering around Congressional approval rating levels or lower? So without further ado, here’s some of the happy discoveries I’ve made thus far!
First up is the latest release from the flock of Canadian geese flying south for the winter, the lads from Wolf Parade back with their fourth album (their first in over six years), Cry Cry Cry. I’d never really listened to these guys, but this one kept showing up on several of the lists and I keyed in on the frantic, joyous tones used thanks to the band’s prolonged hiatus, so thought I’d give it a try. The album grabs you from the outset with an ominous lower octaves piano run and a cryptic opening line that immediately seizes you attention — “Lazarus online, I received your message. You’re a fan of mine — your name’s Rebecca, and you’ve decided not to die. Alright, let’s fight — let’s rage against the night.” It’s a great line, a rebellious sentiment suited for the times and one that swells as the song goes on.
The band calls to mind several touchstones that resonated as I worked through the album — frontman Spencer Krug’s voice reminds you of Beck at times (before he went pop and was still endearingly weird), the organs/pianos/keys hearken to quintessential Canadian bands like New Pornographers/Broken Social Scene/etc, and there’s an epic swell to the songs that is reminiscent of early Arcade Fire (a band they used to open for ten-odd years ago, coincidentally). It all works really nicely — aside from the aforementioned “Lazarus,” other highlights include Dan Boeckner’s guitars at the end of “Valley Boy,” the driving percussion and sentiment of “Incantation” (“remake my heart — let morning come!”), the jittery buildup of “Baby Blue” that erupts in blissful chaos at the finish, or the shapeshifting epic “Weaponized,” which should be a set closer for them for years. It’s a really solid album and delving into their earlier albums similarly rewards the ears (I’ve been spending a lot of time on the debut Apologies to the Queen) — check out a medley of their stuff here:
Next up is Male Gaze, the band from San Francisco that proves the Schoolhouse Rock rule that three is indeed a magic number. The band itself is a three piece (frontman/guitarist Matt Jones, bassist Mark Kaiser, and drummer Adam Cimino), back with their third album (Miss Taken), and their sound is an interesting hybrid of three distinct styles — there’s a new wave vibe (think Joy Division with less gloom), fuzzed up garage rock (Black Angels kept coming to mind), and 60s style psychedelic (take your pick of British invaders). Somehow they all flow together well and make for an enjoyable listen.
Tracks like “Keep Yr Kools,” “Pale Gaze,” and “If U Were My Girl” fall into the former category with Jones nailing both the delivery and lyrics of that era (“if you were my girl the future wouldn’t look quite so bleak, I might actually feel something — if you were my girl” on the latter track), “All Yours” and “African Ripoff” charge forth from the middle one like amped up mustangs, while “Didn’t,” “Tell Me How It Is,” and the title track brightly glide from the latter. It’s a really cool mix, balancing between funky, muscular riffs and jangly, chiming counterpoints as you move from song to song. The previous two albums tipped more towards the first two categories (which I truthfully prefer a bit more to this one, particularly the smoking debut Gale Maze), but the band’s growth in that span, releasing an album a year and adding the new elements here, is impressive. Definitely one I’m going to be keeping an eye on moving forward — check out what they can do here (for some reason the new one is MIA online, so enjoy the stellar debut):
Last up is a magic band from Beantown that I’ve been obsessing over the most since finding them, Pile. Similar to the above bands who I’ve discovered several albums into their career (four and three, respectively), raising the slightly maddening question of “how the fu#$ did I miss these people?!” every time it happens, that point is driven home with a hammer fist with these guys as they’ve somehow eluded me for SIX albums, including this one (A Hairshirt of Purpose). And they’re really effing good.
They showed up just outside the top ten on The Onion’s top twenty of the year list (#11) and the writeup’s characterization — that the band “plays its songs…as if they were horror films…running right up to the edge of a cliff to dangle there precariously” — was what caught my eye. And then I played the video embedded in the article, which belongs to the aptly named monster “Texas” and I was done. Sounding like the beloved hometown Jesus Lizard, the song is just over two and a half minutes of wild, noisy fury like that band at its thunderous best. It’s the high point on the album, which is a more subdued affair than previous outings.
Here they opt for a more muted, atonal tone mostly — from the opening “Worms” to “No Bone,” “Milkshake,” and “Making Eyes,” or the frond end of songs like “Rope’s Length,” “Leaning on a Wheel,” and “Slippery,” the band opts to keep its knives sheathed more than normal. (They brandish them rather wickedly at the end of those latter three, thankfully, violently thrashing to life like the person on the cover after his head slips below the surface of the tub.) Outside of “Texas,” though (and comparable freight trains “Hissing for Peace,” “Hairshirt,” and “Fingers”) it’s a much more subdued affair, and if I’d only listened to this album I might’ve let these guys remain out in the cold. Thankfully what I heard on that first track intrigued me enough to check out their earlier stuff, and that’s where I really fell in love.
On albums like Jerk Routine and Magic Isn’t Real (sorry, Stephven) the Lizard vibe comes through even stronger and the band flattens you with what it can do. Frontman Rick Maguire has a wail that vacillates between a pair of Daves — the aforementioned’s David Yow and the Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl — on the rockers, while guitarist Matt Becker, bassist Matt Connery, and drummer Kris Kuss (whose name appropriately calls to mind both ‘percussion’ and ‘concussion,’ the former causing the latter in his playing) bludgeon you in the process. There’s nary a bad song to be found, and the spell continues on later albums Dripping and You’re Better Than This, which dole out even more punishment. When the band does quiet down (as it does so frequently on Hairshirt, while much more sparingly on the others) you notice how much warmth Maguire’s voice has, drawing you in close before smashing both fists into the side of your head. It’s a potent juxtaposition, and as the Onion writeup says, it’s “both lovely and ugly, even when — especially when — it doesn’t make a lick of sense.” For me the heavier earlier albums where this punishing whiplash is in such high supply are more irresistible, but I never would have discovered ’em without a little trip to “Texas” on Hairshirt. See which version you prefer here:
We’ll close with some odds and sods from the last few weeks — first a video from fellow Scotsmen Frightened Rabbit that they dropped on Christmas Day. It’s the single “No Real Life,” which was released to support Alzheimer’s research, and is a characteristically lovely tune from the lads. They’re coming to town soon to play their classic The Midnight Organ Fight in its entirety for its ten year anniversary, so super excited to see that shortly. In the interim, enjoy the new one here:
Next comes the latest single from the upcoming release for Portland’s Mimicking Birds, and similar to the first single “Sunlight Daze,” it’s a bit more amped up and electrified than their earlier, folksier work. We’ll see how that works across the broader album once it comes out, but does well enough on its own so far. Check it out here:
Lastly we’ll close with the latest single from the ever productive Will Toledo of Car Seat Headrest, whose upcoming album Twin Fantasy (a re-recording of a previous effort of the same name) drops next month (Feb 16). He, too, seems to have been bit by the 80s/synth bug, but it isn’t as jarring as some of the other bands fussed at on this site since his stuff already sounded a bit like the Cars at times. This one’s a glammy, upbeat revisiting of “Nervous Young Inhumans” and hopefully the rest of the album sounds as good as this one the second time around. Check it out here:
Until next time, amici… –BS