Life in the live stream carried on mostly as usual this week — ton of time with the Tweedys and Morbzahatchee (as one user hilariously dubbed the couple of Kevin Morby and Waxahatchee during one of the four appearances I caught with them this week), along with some new faces to keep things interesting (Lumineers, Glen Hansard, Head and the Heart). There were more “virtual festivals” this week for some reason, some good (the mini-dancefest that had David Guetta spinning from an empty rooftop in Miami, shouting in his Fronch accent to everyone standing on the overlooking balconies, “I CON SEE EENSIDE YO APAHHHTMENTS!!!” over and over again), some lousy (the overblown cheeseball that was One World).
Some of the best, somewhat surprisingly, were the weed day festivities (aka 4/20). Early in the day I caught a smoking set from old school favorites Cypress Hill, which honestly might’ve been the best thing I caught this week. (It ran into a video chat for work, but was so good I didn’t want to turn it off, so probably looked I was really into what was being discussed, nodding my head vigorously for the first 15 minutes of the meeting). Then later on the legendary Willie Nelson put on his annual tokefest, which had a bunch of great performances — from regular Sunbeams like Shakey Graves, Nathaniel Rateliff, and Morby, as well as unexpected sources like Kacey Musgraves, Langhorne Slim, and Jeff Bridges. (That’s right — the Dude, y’all!) Amidst it all, Willie and his sons did a bunch of songs, too. Unsurprisingly for a gathering of avowed potheads, this was a SUPER chill affair — everyone was in a great mood, warm and happy, just joking around and playing music for several hours. (Four hours and twenty minutes, to be exact.) It was fantastic — the perfect setting to relax in for a while during these unsettling times.
I’ve been spending a lot of time with Willie lately, going back through his albums from the late 60s and early 70s and relaxing (Good Times,The Party’s Over, Texas in my Soul, and Red Headed Stranger being a few of many faves). He’s got a great voice and the mood he conjures on these is really peaceful — perfect for lazily sauntering across the prairie on your steed or floating down the river in your makeshift raft (or sitting with a Frenchie on your lap while you work on the patio — whichever’s applicable…) One of the songs from the early years was “Hello Walls,” which takes on a new light thanks to recent times (hence why it is one of many on the fabled quarantunes playlist). Willie and his sons actually went on Colbert to do a nice three-piece version of it this week, which you can watch below — and check out the full four hour festival here when you’re done.
The other thing that soaked up a bunch of time this week was the surprise release by LA punks X who dropped their first new album in 27 years (and their first with the original lineup in THIRTY FIVE!), Alphabetland. I knew they’d been working on new material, but hadn’t heard much since I wrote about them last October when they put out the first single. Seems like they’ve been hard at work, though, and rather than wait until later this year to release the album, they decided to do it this week thanks to coronavirus. (Frontman John Doe said, “Let’s give people…something that is upbeat. Something that is new and vital.”)
They certainly nailed those goals — at just under thirty minutes long, its ten songs breeze by like cars speeding down the highway. (Closer “All the Time in the World” is more a spoken word piece.) It’s pretty dang good — I’ve burned through it several times since its surprise appearance Wednesday, and it gets you moving every time. Aside from the lead single an early fave is this one, “Cyrano deBerger’s Back,” which also happens to date back to the time of the band’s debut (the classic Los Angeles, which turns 40 this weekend).
Similar to that one, they used to play this in rehearsal from time to time, but for whatever reason never put it down officially in the studio until now. It’s a pretty great tune — a jaunty, buoyant riff from Billy Zoom, sturdy, driving beat from DJ Bonebrake, and the classic harmonized tension between Exene and Doe. By the time the horns come in on the chorus you should already be boogieing. Check it out here (and stream/buy the entire album on their Bandcamp page):
In keeping with the post’s theme of pleasant surprises, we’ll close with this one, the latest single from Bright Eyes’ impending reunion. Their getting back together isn’t the surprise here (he announced that last month with the first single), but rather who’s playing with him this time. I’m not sure how it happened (call it coronavirus-induced mania?) or if you could pick two more random additions to pair with Oberst and his indie sound (Post Malone and Lemmy? Katie Perry and Andrea Bocelli?), but these come pretty close — he’s got Flea from the Chili Peppers on bass, and the thunderous Jon Theodore from Queens on drums here.
Rather than sounding like some hard funk band, though, things sound largely the same. (It’s unclear whether his bandmates are also playing or standing on the perimeter of the studio semi-mystified thinking, “What the fuck is going on right now?!”) It’s another pretty song (and another instant addition to the quarantunes list), which has me excited to hear the rest of the album soon. Check out “Forced Convalescence” while we wait (and endure the same):
As the weeks start to slowly blend together, with each day a slightly fuzzier echo of the last, I thought it was important to differentiate “this is a weekday where you stay at home and sit around with the dog on your lap” from “this is a weekEND where you do the exact same thing.” Since one of the minor differences between the two is stopping in here to recap the blur that just went by, here I am. (Honestly, part of me wishes there were badges or something we got for the various milestones we pass — “That’s five weeks of isolation — great job!” or “Congratulations, you put on pants today!” — sort of like AA chips, without the 12-step process and disease.)
Unsurprisingly, this week was very similar to the last — sitting on the porch crushing COVID with the Rizz, listening to a flurry of livestreams while banging away at the laptop. Aside from recurring highlights from the nightly Tweedy or weekly Waxahatchee/Morby shows, got to hear some decent one offs this week — Pete Yorn, Pedro the Lion, and a BUNCH of John Prine tributes, the two best ones of which were from NPR and Consequence of Sound. The former had five “tiny desk” style tributes (the best of which was Nathaniel Rateliff’s, second from the last), while the latter had over a dozen artists in their aptly named “Angel from Maywood” concert. (FWIW, Waxahatchee and Morby did a non-Prine “tiny desk” set from their house, which was also pretty great.)
Everyone from Kevin Morby and Conor Meloy from the Decemberists to Norah Jones and Grace Potter showed up to pay tribute. You can still catch most of the performances on Consequence’s Instagram page — just click the IGTV link and you’ll see the majority of em. They were all pretty good, but I thought the ones from The Lowest Pair, Sara and Sean Watkins, Whoa Dakota, and Sammy Brue were particularly good. (Sadly, the one from Head and the Heart is missing, which was one of the best.) And if that isn’t enough of the Singin’ Mailman you can also watch Prine’s 2018 Austin City Limits concert here, which was his first time on the show in 13-odd years. (Note — you can actually catch any episode from the past three years now by streaming for free on PBS’ site, along with select shows from the archives from folks like BB King and others!)
In the midst of all the tributes and tunes, I also got to do a little reading with some recent album anniversaries showing up in the feeds that are worth sharing. The first of those is the writeup of Toots and the Maytals’ 1975 debut from Pitchfork, which regularly goes back and reviews old albums to highlight classics from the past. The article does a good job giving the history of the band, highlighting how Toots’ country upbringing gave the band a unique sound and showing where they fit in with better known reggae legends like the ubiquitous Bob Marley. It’s a good read — I remember discovering Toots by accident when I was driving around the Irish countryside in a beat-up old bus 20 years ago. It was a week-long trip around the entire country and in addition to listening to regionally appropriate bands like U2 (which remains one of my favorite memories — it made the early albums resonate even more, like they were taking power from their home terrain) the driver kept putting on tapes for this throaty, raw sounding reggae band, which was as alien to those surroundings as a leprechaun in Kingston.
I remember immediately loving it, jarringly out of context or not. There was a cover of the old classic “Louie, Louie,” the John Denver song “Country Road,” and what I previously had thought was an original Sublime song (and one of my favorites, at that), “54-46 (Was My Number).” Similar to the U2, there was an urgency to his voice that was inescapable. I asked the driver who it was and he responded with his thick Irish accent, “TOOTSindaMAAAAAAAYtils.” “Toots in the metals? Two is in the middles? I don’t understand.” To which he exasperatedly ejected the tape and tossed it back to me and I finally understood. These guys remain my favorite reggae band — sure, I like everyone on the planet adore Marley and also enjoy rougher, angrier fare like Peter Tosh, but there’s something about Toots that just sets him apart. Maybe it’s how I found him on that magic trip around the emerald isle or that connection to Sublime, whose debut album we used to listen to on a daily basis back in college. Either way, he’s great and this album was the breakthrough — pop it on while you read the article, or listen to that beloved song of his time in prison, which Bradley and the boys later gave a punky remake.
Next up on the reading rainbow comes another album from the time of my Toots discovery, the Smashing Pumpkins’ MACHINA, which turned 20 this month. The Stereogum article does a good job setting this album into the band’s overall output, starting with a hilarious anecdote about frontman Billy Corgan being a characteristically self-important pissant and getting into a “fight” with Soundgarden that he moped about and made into a big deal the next day. The story highlights one of the ongoing difficulties with loving this band — Billy and his monomaniacal egotism (and now batshit crazy conspiracy theories). At their best the band is amazing — aside from Siamese Dream and Mellon Collie, which are unassailable classics, I also loved Adore and a bunch of their other stuff, including this one — at their worst they are a self-important, overly bombastic trainwreck, almost all of which starts and stops with Billy himself. (When we saw them a year or so ago on tour, Billy legitimately had a giant Catholic-style idol of himself carried through the crowd.)
Which brings us back to this album — not counting the companion piece MACHINA II that was released/leaked shortly thereafter, this is the last time the band I loved did anything worth listening to. It was the last time the two sides of their sound were (mostly) in balance — the thundering drums and roaring guitars, which were undeniable once they got going (Jimmy Chamberlin, alongside Dave Grohl, is one of the best drummers of his generation), counterbalanced by the shy, stark sweetness of Billy’s lyrics and melodies. Subsequent albums like Zeitgeist, Oceania, and the album/non-album Shiny and Oh So Bright seemed to believe that the reason legions of people loved the Pumpkins were because they RAWWWWKED SOOOOOO HARRRRRRRD (and/or thought Billy’s lyrics about fairies and other rambling bullshit in the “epic” ten-odd minute tracks were the draw). As a result, we got albums full of sludgy, overly loud songs with next to no heart. They were the equivalent of WWE wrestlers, puffed up meatheads beating you over the head with folding chairs (not as odd an analogy as you may think for Corgan).
On MACHINA, though, there was still relative harmony between those sides. Sure, the edges were starting to fray and in retrospect you could see the disappointing path that would lead to those subsequent albums, thanks to Corgan’s fundamental misunderstanding of what made his band great, but for the most part things held together one last time. This was one of two new albums I listened to on almost endless repeat when I was living abroad, aside from my compilations of older material (this being the early internet days I was still operating off a Discman with a small binder of mix CDs, since space was of a premium) and it, along with the Counting Crows’ This Desert Life, were my tether to home, helping me beat back the intermittent blues and pass the hours between class/work/travel. Both those albums immediately transport me to that remodeled janitor’s closet I was living in at the time — it was legitimately three arms’ lengths wide and as long as a twin bed (the building unsurprisingly ended up being condemned shortly after I moved out) — and both still hold up today. This one was always one of my favorites — give it a ride while you read:
Last up is another anniversary article from Stereogum, this one on the Hives’ Veni Vidi Vicious turning 20 this month. I didn’t discover these guys until I got home from that trip, as the Strokes and all the bands that came in their wake started exploding later that year. As Lizzy Goodman details in her fabulous Meet me in the Bathroom (which I wrote about here), they came in waves — first the Strokes, Interpol, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, LCD, and the Walkmen, then bands like the National, Grizzly Bear, Vampire Weekend, Kings of Leon, the Vines, and more.
The Hives broke as part of that second wave, but as the Stereogum article relays the album that would eventually catapult them into the limelight came out before all those first wave albums (including Is This It?)! It highlights some of the fickleness behind who makes it (and when) and who doesn’t, especially in the pre-internet age with its much more limited opportunities for exposure. I remember the first time I heard “Hate to Say I Told You So,” with its undeniable hook and limitless energy — by the time you get to the bass breakdown (a sighting more rare than that Jamaican Irishman) you were ready to Kool-aid through the walls of your dorm room. Thankfully these guys eventually cracked through and have mostly kept up the high level of quality they established on Veni. They also remain one of the best live bands around, so if you’re looking for a way to get pumped during the pandemic, check out this breathless, blistering set from 2004, which was so good they made it a DVD. Enjoy the Tussles in Brussels here:
We’ll pull ourselves off Memory Lane for a couple new additions I caught floating by this week — first comes the latest single from beloved Built to Spill’s upcoming album, a covers album of Daniel Johnston songs. (Creatively titled Built to Spill plays the songs of Daniel Johnston, due June 12.) It initially seemed an odd choice for a band known for its guitar heroics, but upon hearing their version of songs like “Life in Vain” and this one, “Mountaintop,” you see how seamlessly it fits with the bands sweeter, melodic side. Excited to hear the rest of the album — enjoy this little slice of heaven here while we wait:
Next comes the latest from indie Super Friends outing Muzz, which sports former Walkmen drummer Matt Barrick, along with Interpol frontman Paul Banks and indie hopscotcher Josh Kaufman (he’s played with Bonny Light Horseman, the National, Craig Finn, etc). Since releasing their first single (the excellent “Bad Feeling”) the guys have announced a full album (Muzz, due June 5) and released another track from it. Similar to their previous release, this one finds the trio hanging back a bit, riding a languid vibe in lieu of some of their former outfits’ more raucous affairs. It works well — we’ll see how the rest of the album sounds soon. In the meantime enjoy “Red Western Sky” here:
Next comes the latest from Magnetic Fields, back for the second time this month with a new track from their latest concept album, Quickies. As noted two weeks ago, the album will have 28 songs, each less than three minutes long, and will be out May 15. This one is classic Mags, showcasing Stephin Merritt’s singular style — part showtunes, part satire — this one’s lyrics are at turns hilarious and sweet, just like the band at their best. Enjoy “I Want to Join a Biker Gang” here:
Up next comes the latest from Will Toledo’s Car Seat Headrest, whose upcoming album Making a Door Less Open comes out in a couple weeks (due May 1). The first two singles “Can’t Cool me Down” and “Martin” were both really good tunes, and the latest, “Hollywood” is no different. It’s a scathing ode to the titular town and it’s unclear who the guest vocalist is, but their rap-like cadence counters Toledo’s sleepy drawl well. Getting excited to hear the rest of the album — sounds like a hopeful rebound to 2016’s excellent Teens of Denial. We’ll see in a few short weeks — in the interim enjoy “Hollywood” here:
We’ll close with a couple tracks from Gorillaz, former Blur frontman Damon Albarn’s hit or miss cartoon collective, which he recently revived as part of his Song Machine project. As I wrote about before, he plans to release a series of “episodes” over the course of the year, with each episode detailing the fruits of a new collaboration. The last one with rapper slowthai was pretty good, as are the most recent ones — “Desole,” a breezy jaunt through the Caribbean with African vocalist Fatoumata Diawara, and “Aries,” a cool drive through 80s nostalgia with New Order bassist Peter Hook. Three for three has me more enthusiastic about what’s to come than Albarn’s recent work would normally have me. Let’s hope he keeps up the hot streak in the coming months!
On this week’s edition of Home School Hibernation we find our fabled author doing much the same as before — passing the days logging hard-earned miles on the hunkered down highway with his snoring, farting sidekick asleep on his lap, taking the occasional break to work from his now award-winning toaster oven standing desk instead of the porch or couch, while streaming one of the many daily concerts put out there by similarly shutdown artists. There’s been solid one-off mini-sets from Hamilton Leithauser and Waxahatchee this week, along with more recurring highlights like the nightly Tweedy Show (which is basically just the Wilco frontman hanging out in his living room while he and his sons crack jokes and sing songs — a space that’s every bit as calm and enjoyable to lounge in as that sounds) or the weekly Thursday night stream from Waxahatchee and Kevin Morby (which finds the couple doing duets, solo tunes, and a bunch of covers). It’s been a welcome reprieve from what’s otherwise been a really bad news week — aside from the usual corona-related news, which saw us somehow DOUBLE the global death tollin THREE DAYS (?!?!?) while also adding 600,000 confirmed cases in the same time span (stats that are as alarming as how little fanfare they generated in the news), we also lost three music legends — Kenny Rogers, Bill Withers, and John Prine.
Each of these men had a slew of iconic songs — songs almost everyone knows, whether you love them or not — Rogers had “Lady,” “We Got Tonight,” “Islands in the Stream,” and the titanic “The Gambler,” among others. Withers had “Just the Two of Us,” “Ain’t No Sunshine,” “Lovely Day,” and “Lean on Me,” just to get started. Prine is the lesser known of the three — at least to the general public — but he’s got both a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Grammys and membership in the Songwriters Hall of Fame for tunes like “Illegal Smile,” “Far From Me,” “Spanish Pipedream,” and “Sam Stone.” Perhaps that underdog, everyman status is why so many artists recorded tributes for Prine this week, instead of for Rogers and Withers — he belonged to them, whereas the latter two belonged to everyone.
Rolling Stone had a really good obituary/retrospective on him that’s worth a read — he used to be a mailman in the town my old man was born in, which is wild — but pop on these tributes while you do. There were three that were quite good, two coming from our aforementioned recurring delights. The first of those is Kevin Morby singing Prine’s classic “Angel From Montgomery” on last week’s stream (they reprised it as a duet this week after he passed), while the second is Tweedy singing “Please Don’t Bury Me” on his nightly show. The third is probably the most poignant — Dave Matthews singing “Speed of the Sound of Loneliness” on Colbert, which he gives a mournful, melancholic tone missing from the original. It’s quite lovely and all three give folks a reason to pay more attention to Prine — his solid storytelling and straightforward, sometimes funny lyrics almost glide by unnoticed with his simple, nonchalant delivery. May he, Rogers, and Withers all rest in peace.
Three other isolation-related items before leaving our living rooms — first, another highlight from last week’s Thursday night stream was Waxahatchee covering Emmylou Harris’ “Where Will I Be.” Crutchfield is an Alabama native and she tends to like doing country covers in her shows/streams, so this one’s right in her wheelhouse. She does it justice, with just a beautiful rendition of the song — give it a listen here (and tune in to them Thursdays — it’s pretty endearing to see such talented individuals interacting just as a couple hanging out, bantering while singing a bunch of great songs, so check em here at 9PM EST):
Next comes a somewhat surprising acoustic offering from PUP frontman Stefan Babcock and the new song “Waiting for Something to Happen.” He and his band of Canadian punks aren’t known for quieter fare (his amped up wail is one of their signatures), so this is an interesting departure. It’s even got a French horn, for chrissakes?! It’s a good tune, though — will be curious to see if he shows more of this side in the coming months. Give it a listen here:
Lastly we’ll close with another plug for the monster quarantunes playlist I wrote about a couple posts ago. Since that time I’ve added another 40 hours’ worth of songs, going waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay further down the rabbit hole than I initially expected, but once you get started it’s kind of a fun little game. (Besides, what the hell else do I have to do with my time?) It’s now over 100 hours and counting, so PLENTY of stuff in there for you to listen to. I’ve had it on all week while I work and only occasionally get a repeat, so think you should be fine for a good long while. It’s pretty fun, if I do say so myself — give it a shot if you haven’t already here.
We’ll delve out into the big, bad world now for a few new songs, carefully trying to avoid The Invisible Enemy… (cue scary music and reverb, but DON’T necessarily put on a mask when you go — I mean you can if you want to, but I’m not going to. Sincerely, POTUS.) First comes a song from Kills frontwoman Alison Mosshart who for the first time is having a go as a solo artist. It’s a slow burning song about recovering from a breakup — not too different sonically from her work with the Kills and Dead Weather — but works just as nicely as a little pandemic anthem. Listen to “Rise” here:
Next comes a little musical version of a home and home series (aw, remember when we had sports? Sniff…) between unexpected opponents — in this case indie band Rogue Wave and underground rap fave Aesop Rock. A few months ago the latter put out a song with the name of the former — it wasn’t about the band, just a coincidental use of the phrase — but it caught the band’s attention and they decided to respond in kind, releasing a song in Aesop’s name this week. It similarly is not about the rapper (best I can tell it’s sorta about the fables?), but it’s got a nice little guitar riff and melody. Give “Aesop Rock” a ride here:
For his part Aesop was busy this week, too, releasing a soundtrack for a video game he did for a friend. It’s mostly instrumentals, but a couple songs have him dropping verses, the best of which is this one, “Drums on the Wheel.” Also not sure what this one’s about (something about a pilot in space talking to Major Cigar?), but who the hell cares — it’s a video game. It’s got a good beat and Aesop’s signature flow, that’s all I need. See what you think here:
We’ll close with a little warmth, from the voice of Nathaniel and the heart of the Hunts, two frequent visitors to the list. For the former Rateliff released a pair of outtakes from his bigger band, the Night Sweats, this week, an instrumental along with this one, whose title earned it immediate entry to the aforementioned playlist. It’s a statelier affair than the band’s more high energy offerings, which is nice in this climate — I can’t afford to get too excited, that might invite The Invisible Enemy in (no one’s quite sure how he attacks…) — so pour yourself a tall glass of somethin’ tasty and enjoy this one:
Last comes the latest from the brothers and sisters in the Hunts, back with yet another unabashedly earnest song about love. These kids write such pretty, heartfelt songs with such knee-buckling harmonies, it’s really quite remarkable. They feel like such anomalies — both in the pre-pandemic music scene and the wider world — because of their lyrics, their optimism, and their pure prettiness. I’m constantly amazed they haven’t had that beaten out of them yet, but every song like this reminds me I’m very thankful they haven’t. Just close your eyes, pop this on, and picture what life would be like if it was this blissful and serene:
One of the unexpected upsides of the world shutting down has been the absolute avalanche of artists doing live-streamed shows and posting new material online. Aside from Death Cab’s Ben Gibbard, who recently wrapped his series of daily shows that we highlighted two weeks ago, it seems like everyone’s getting into the game as folks realize these stay-at-home orders are unlikely to end anytime soon. (And that folks are going to lose their goddamned minds without music or something positive to look forward to each day as this stretches on.) Just this week alone I caught performances from Jeff Tweedy (who’s doing super low-fi nightly “shows,” just hanging out with his family), two solid sets by Rick from Pile, a solo show by Dave Matthews, a mini-set from John Fogerty, and another hour from Gibbard (he’s since transitioned to weekly shows).
It’s not a perfect system — there were almost as many misses as technical glitches prevented me from catching shows by Hamilton Leithauser, Waxahatchee, and Kevin Morby, while several other shows popped up with such little notice they were over by the time I got the alert — but I feel like things will sort themselves out over time as folks figure out how to harness the technology. (At least posting the shows to YouTube so people can see them after the fact in case streams dropped or timezones prevented them from watching in the first place.) I’ve gotten into the rhythm of checking Songkick’s list of live streams each morning to see what’s on tap and then popping in to Bandsintown to see what they might’ve caught that Songkick missed. And then there’s all the stuff folks are posting on Instagram that’s the equivalent of throwing glitter out the window on a blustery day. (Honestly — fuck the ‘gram.)
Here are a couple highlights to get you started — first, there’s this performance from Wilco just before the globe closed down, shot in one of the prettier parts of our beloved city by the lake, the Chicago Athletic Association (home to Cindy’s lovely rooftop bar, one of many spots on my recommendation list). Great building, great band, great city (correction — the GREATEST city #GPOE!) — give it a listen here:
Then there was this performance by Tweedy and his sons from their bathtub for Kimmel, doing a lovely little version of “Evergreen” from last year’s solo album Warmer. Three things this video and Tweedy’s nightly shows remind you of — 1) his son Sammy looks just like him (it’s uncanny), 2) Tweedy’s complete lack of bombast or ego — as well as his subtle, sharp sense of humor — are really refreshing (he’s constantly in pajama pants and/or a robe, looking more like a disheveled asylum patient rather than a rock star), and 3) he really seems like someone you’d want to hang around with. (Or at least I do — him, Nick Offerman, Dave Grohl, and Josh Homme — two sets of respective friends. I could be the bridge between the two tandems — let’s make this happen, guys.) Enjoy this taste of what the nightly shows bring:
As I mentioned above, Waxahatchee has been doing several live streams lately, most of which have sadly not been posted online yet. Thankfully this snippet from one of her recent sets on SiriusXM (which is streaming free now thanks to the apocalypse) made its way to YouTube. She’s covering the recent Caroline Polachek song “So Hot You’re Hurting my Feelings” (which is an absolutely amazing title, BTW) and makes the song shine in a way the original never did for me. Give it a listen here:
Before we go there were a couple new releases to note, too — recent Australian fave Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever continue their hot streak, dropping the second single from their upcoming album, Sideways to New Italy (due out June 5). This one’s more of the same (not in a bad way) — triple guitar attack, solid melodies, and a brightness that’s much in demand these days. Looking forward to the new album — enjoy “She’s There” in the meantime:
Next comes a little ditty from hit or miss faves the Magnetic Fields whose songwriter and snarky soul Stephin Merritt subscribes to the Bob Pollard school of songwriting, releasing more than most can keep up with (and more than most would advise, arguing for the quality over quantity side of the ledger). Similar to Dr Bob, Merritt loves thematic, concept albums — the band’s last project was 50 Song Memoir with one song for/from each year of Merritt’s life, while they’ve previously done an album full of songs starting with the word “I” (the aptly named i) and the beloved 69 Love Songs, whose concept is in the title. And while the quality of these albums, as well as Merritt’s myriad side projects, varies as much as Pollard’s, both have written some absolute gems in the midst of the “meh” — more than most bands could dream of in their entire careers, in fact. (GBV, as my eight faithful readers know, are a constant, beloved presence here, and the Mags are a similarly loved quantity for their beautiful, heartwarming songs — I got married to one of em, after all.)
The latest concept is short songs — the new album will have 28 songs, each less than three minutes long. (Quickies is due out May 15.) We’ll see how it goes — the first single didn’t do it for me, but something about the sweetly sincere coda of “will we ever dance again?” resonated. Check out “Kraftwerk in a Blackout” here:
We’ll close with one more song whose content feels in line with our current state — former REM frontman Michael Stipe released an unfinished demo this week of work he’s doing with National guitarist Aaron Dessner. It’s a pretty song, as you’d expect for something with Dessner’s fingerprints, and the lyrics really hit home in light of recent days. The title tells the tale — “No Time for Love Like Now.” Amen. Give it a listen here:
Until next time — stay home, stay safe, amici… — BS
