Double Shot Saturday — Andy and a Bunch of Punks

Phew — quite a week we just had there. As the wider world slowly started to shut down — professional sports, music festivals and concerts, marathons, movie theaters, and parades, travel to or from entire continents, etc — it was only fitting that I was concurrently closing up my current job, home to so many heartaches and frustrations over the years. (Nothing says “post-apocalyptic disaster” better than a career in the USG…) So for the first time in nearly a decade as a non-government stooge (and only the second time in nearly 15), I thought I would stop in as a regular human and highlight some new discoveries. (Maybe that’s what’s been holding the readership down all these years!)

There have been a bunch recently — most of the loud, punky variety thanks to my mood as I was winding down my service — but we’ll start with the soft one, a Saskatchewanian named Shauf.  Andy Shauf, to be exact, and I stumbled on him thanks to a recent recommendation list from Esquire.  I didn’t like anything else on said list, but was really happy to find this one.  Back with his fifth album overall, Shauf’s latest follows the model of his previous one and focuses all of the songs on a single theme — his last one was songs about one night at a party, told from the perspectives of the various attendees (aptly titled The Party), while this one centers around one night at a bar, the titular Neon Skyline.

It’s a simple concept, but one that works well as you bounce between the lives and eyes of the various individuals. Shauf’s narratives (and melodies) are at times reminiscent of Paul Simon’s, while others call to mind my beloved Elliott Smith.  Add to that Shauf’s thick Canadian accent (“I’m soary I’m from another port of the country,” instead of “sorry”/”part,” for one example) and his penchant for throwing in clarinet (he grew up playing the instrument, among many others, in his family’s Christian rock band) and you’ve got quite a charming, interesting mix.  It works well, though — both those albums are top to bottom winners, as are his earlier ones.  Warm, calming, and oh so pretty — exactly what we need to take the edge off weeks like the last.  Start with the Simon-y lead single “Neon Skyline” and see if you get similarly hooked, and then jump to the more Elliottesque “Alexander All Alone” from his last one:

For you fellow Dylan Thomas fans not quite ready to go quiet into the night, there’s a trio of brasher bands I came across to fuel your fury (or fever, if you’re infected with corona).  First comes one I got to too late, the defunct LA post-punk band Corners. I came across their debut (and unfortunately only) album, Maxed Out on Distractions, when its lead single “Against It” slipped into my Spotify feed.  It’s a great tune, all jangly guitars and nervous energy, and that got me to explore (and ultimately enjoy) the entire album.  Over the course of its too brief 30 minutes it calls to mind Joy Division moodiness and Rapture-like freneticism, which unsurprisingly makes for a great listen, so it was a real bummer to learn they broke up back in 2016. Seems like the four members grew apart over their two years of touring for the debut and wanted to focus on their solo projects instead of sticking with the band, so this is all we’ll be getting. (They somewhat strangely put out a four track EP last year with leftovers from that 2014 recording session, but nothing else seems forthcoming.) Thankfully we’ve at least got this — start with that first single, “Against It,” which is reminiscent of that Joy Division sound before jumping in “The Spaceship” and riding it to the Rapture:

Next comes another California punk band, this one hailing from the northern part of the state in San Francisco, and another throwback to that 70s sound, albeit more on the early side when The Clash and Sex Pistols were raining fire on everyone. Spiritual Cramp is the band, and while the name may be terrible, the music sure isn’t.  Mixing the aforementioned influences with more modern ones like the Hives, their debut album Television is a blast.  It puts their first two EPs alongside six new tracks (two of which are covers — one from the Pistols, the other from Billy Bragg, oddly enough) and there are a ton of winners in there.  “Television” and “I Feel Bad Bein’ Me” really bring out those Clash reggae elements and driving beat, while “Upset Stomach” and the eponymous “Spiritual Cramp” surface those Hives-ian elements. And then there’s lead single “The Erasure,” which is something else entirely (lead singer Michael Bingham’s mumbled vocals and the bouncing beat almost call to mind early Talking Heads).  It’s a winning mix — start with the lead single and then jump to the burning flame of the band’s name:

Last stop on the Discovery channel takes us to the Emerald Isle, which is fitting with St Patty’s Day right around the corner. The band is another crummily named one — Girl Band — but similar to the others, the quality of their craft is high.  These guys take elements of LCD Soundsystem (frontman Dara Kiely sounds a lot like James Murphy, while their best songs are eminently danceable) and smash them into the noise punk pieces of bands like METZ, which works really well.  The band has released two full lengths — 2015’s Holding Hands with Jamie and last year’s The Talkies — which are solid, if sometimes meandering affairs.  Their first EP, the aptly named The Early Years, though, perfectly captures their sound — fully focused, no fucking around, it’s buttressed by two monster tracks — “Lawman” and the techno cover “Why They Hide Their Bodies Under my Garage?”  Both of them sport infectious beats to draw you in, as well as minute-plus noise-filled freakouts to drive you away, before bringing you back home at the close.  They’re both irresistible, building to a frenzy that’s almost impossible to ignore — off-putting noise explosions or not. Kiely does nothing more in the latter track than hypnotically chant the song title with increasing intensity before unleashing in exhilarating fashion at the end — it’s fantastic. Check both of em out and see for yourself:

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We’ll close back in familiar territory with a couple recent releases from some old friends — first comes Kevin Morby with a couple tracks from the recording sessions from his last album, Oh My God. (Which landed at #7 on last year’s list.) There’s nothing drastically different here — just the same winning formula that’s made him such a favored find the past few years — and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with THAT! Check out “Gift Horse” here:

Next comes the latest from Woods, fresh off their supporting role on David Berman’s outstanding Purple Mountains album last year (which landed at #2 on my list). It’s the first single from their upcoming album — Strange to Explain is due out in May — their first since their disappointing 2017 cheeseball, Love is Love. Thankfully this sounds like a return to their more normal fare — still a little folksy, but less overtly hippie dippy than that last one. Let’s hope for more of the same come May!  In the meantime, check out “Where do you go When you Dream?” here:

Up third comes the second single from former Walkmen frontman Hamilton Leithauser’s upcoming album.  Since we last checked in we’ve gotten a release date and title from Ham — The Loves of your Life will be out April 10 — and another song to enjoy. Seems like we’re going to be in for another lush, winning album based on the first two tracks.  Check out “Isabella” and relish Ham’s wondrous, timeless voice:

We’ll stick with Walkmen alum for this next one, too, and the intriguing new side project for that band’s former drummer, Matt Barrick.  Teaming with Interpol frontman Paul Banks and indie hopscotcher Josh Kaufman (he’s played with Bonny Light Horseman, the National, Craig Finn, etc), they’re calling themselves Muzz.  And while the name doesn’t necessarily make a ton of sense (short for muzzle? slang for a morphine buzz? nickname of their best friend Pete Remuzzi?) the music sure does.  Channeling the more languid, laid back vibe of his former band’s later days, Barrick and Co stretch out luxuriantly on the lead single “Bad Feeling.” There’s no word on a broader album yet, but I’m sure hoping one is coming — check out the appetizer here:

And we’ll close where we started, back in the midst of a tumultuous global crisis and at the end of a long, frustrating chapter in my professional life.  What better soundtrack than the newly reunited Rage for such fare? I’ve been listening to these guys a lot lately, thanks in part to the news of their upcoming tour (which, assuming the world doesn’t end I shall be attending), but particularly as I wrapped up my service to Uncle Sam and finally decided to leave.  The first time I tried this ten years ago I left feeling a lot more optimistic — I’d suffered less battle damage, was moving back to my favorite place on earth and planning to get married, and while disappointed the job didn’t work out, I didn’t feel as let down — it was more unfortunate than anything else.  My walkout song therefore mirrored those sentiments — the joyous climax of the Pumpkins’ “Rocket” perfectly captured that feeling of breaking free from what was holding you down and shooting off into the blissful expanse of the unknown.

This time, I’m a lot angrier.  I’ve got ten more years of incessant battling, ten more years of frustration, bitterness, and disappointment — and the resulting damage they’ve inflicted — coursing through my arteries. Ten more years of momentary highs and major letdowns clogging my brain. The analogy I’ve kept using is one of an abusive relationship — you still care about/love the person (or in this case, place), still feel like just maybe it’ll be better tomorrow, maybe it’ll be that thing you fell in love with and felt so fulfilled by again, that thing that formed such a large part of your persona and an even bigger part of your life.  If only they would stop ignoring you, or worse, beating the ever-loving shit out of you.  Over. And over. And over.

Just like those relationships, though, at some point you reach a point where you know that’s likely not going to happen.  Where you know you have to put yourself, your happiness, and your safety first.  Where you finally decide you no longer want to deal with that and walk away.  (And that in walking away you are not a quitter, or a pussy, or avoiding work because it’s hard, but have done everything you possibly could to salvage things and it still wasn’t enough — and that’s ok — because some things aren’t fixable, and some things aren’t yours to fix.)

Just like those relationships, everybody’s tolerance is going to differ and so, as a result, will their breaking point.  I reached mine this year — and then a hundred times over again — so knew it was time to go.  That chapter came to a close yesterday — with a final toast from the person I respect most from my time there — before playing this walkout song as I drove away from the building.  It aptly captures my current mood and comes courtesy of the aforementioned Rage — for as Zach sings with increasing intensity and anger, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more…

Until next time, amici… (BTW, added another location to the travel pages on the right — Philly in tha house!)

–BS