Posts

Posted on

Echoes of the Past: Old Friends, New Songs

I’ve been having some really strange dreams lately — the other night I was supposed to play in a five on five basketball tournament, but got distracted in the building’s museum separating bales of cotton and missed the game (my dream machine was foot operated, but somehow not otherwise off when I looked up how the f#$k a cotton gin worked on Youtube).  Then last night I was making a mound visit to the Yankees pitcher for some reason when I suddenly, urgently needed to use the bathroom and was worried I was going to sh#$ myself on the diamond.

No idea where any of these things came from — haven’t been studying Southern agriculture or watching the NBA lately (and fu#$ the Yankees) — but suppose it’s just further proof that the prolonged lockdown continues to rot my brain. Thankfully I’ve had some calming companions to ride out the decline with the past few weeks, in the form of new material from a bunch of old favorites.

We’ll start with a half measure, new songs from old albums, and a couple of B-side collections coming out soon.  First up is the upcoming collection from the Kills, who plan to release their album Little Bastards just before Christmas (are we still doing that this year? I’m honestly not sure…) The first single is a demo that dates back to their Midnight Boom days and sounds perfectly in line with all their other stuff (no sitar-laden sidetracks here, thankfully).

Would be cool to hear a more powered up, polished version with Hince’s guitars cranked to the heavens as he stalks the stage live (are we ever doing that again? Not if we don’t save our stages… #RIPUHall), but this is as good as we get right now.  Give “Raise Me” a ride here:

Next comes the surprising news that departed legend Tom Petty (#RIPTP) recorded an entire additional album’s worth of songs back in 1994 when he released the great Wildflowers. Apparently Petty always envisioned that being a double album, but the label didn’t think that would sell so refused to put it out that way.  Petty was thus forced to use some of the material on the She’s the One soundtrack (also solid), while the rest was left to gather dust in his sizeable archives.

Until now, that is.  Petty’s family is thankfully putting the material out as he originally intended next week, with the Wildflowers & All the Rest box set. It will contain not only the original album, but all the missing pieces (including a bunch of alternate versions for songs previously released). His family has released several of the unheard tracks so far (including one only after taking a quiz on Petty’s website) and it really makes you wonder why the label was so resistant.  I’m really looking forward to hearing it how Petty wanted next week — in the meantime take that quiz and listen to “Leave Virginia Alone” here:

We’ll transition now to a trio of updates from three favorites, Kevin Morby, Jeff Tweedy, and Matt Berninger.  Each has new albums coming out soon (some of which we’ve already posted here), but they’ve released more material in recent weeks and two of the three sat down with Stereogum for lengthy interviews in the run-up to the albums.

We’ll start with Morby, whose upcoming Sundowner (due out next week) is a bit of a bridge to the previous two albums in that he recorded most of the songs a while ago, but is only releasing them now.  Reading the interview there’s no disputes with labels that prevented him from doing so, it just didn’t feel like the right time to him then.  (Morby instead recorded and released Oh My God, which landed at #7 on last year’s annual list.)

It took the world shutting down and his going into hibernation in rural Kansas to give the songs their due. We’ve already heard the lovely “Campfire,” as well as the equally outstanding “Don’t Underestimate Midwest American Sun” (which I first heard him play for Willie Nelson back in April — what was that, like two years ago now at this point?) and this week he released the title track, which might be my favorite so far.  It’s simple, stripped down, and pretty — which is just what the doctor ordered these days.

We got to catch Morby and Nathaniel Rateliff doing a livestream from Red Rocks last week, which was pretty fantastic.  Ms Katie was there, too, so a couple songs had all three singing together, which was as close to perfect as I think we’re allowed to get right now.  Next week’s gonna be a good week (at least musically…)  Check out “Sundowner” until then:

Next comes another King of Quarantine, Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy, who in addition to STILL doing his nightly livestream (albeit more sporadically now), has not only found the time to write another book (How to Write One Song, due out this week), but another album as well (Love is the King, due out the following week).  Really makes you question how you’ve spent your lockdown, doesn’t it? (“I’ve cleaned the windows 77 times and………listened to a podcast on illegal fishing…….and…….um…….went for a run……twice?”)

Tweedy just released a Wilco album and solo outing last year (both of which landed at #9 on the annual list), so it’s slightly surprising he’s back so soon — but this being the year of constant, shitty surprises, it SUUUUUUUURE is a welcome alternative!  Tweedy’s released a couple tracks so far (the title track and “Guess Again”) and they’re both solid outings, but thought this one was worth posting based on the cool/comical video.  It sports appearances (albeit only from the nose down) of several famous friends, everyone from Jeff Garlin, Nick Offerman, and Jon Hamm to Seth Meyers, Abbi Jacobson, and Courtney Barnett. It’s a good song, too — see who you can spot in the video here:

Last up in the lineup of old friends is National frontman Matt Berninger, who’s set to debut his first solo album, Serpentine Prison, next week as well. (I TOLD ya next week’s gonna be a good one!) Berninger walks through the recording of the album (produced by soul icon Booker T), as well as a range of other topics in this interview, which is worth a read as it’s a good career retrospective.

As for the album, we’ve heard a couple tracks so far, including the lovely “Distant Axis” and the title track, but wanted to throw this one up, too, since it’s another soft, soothing affair. (We really gotta take it easy on ourselves, guys — sh#$’s getting crazy out there…) It’s right in Berninger’s/National’s wheelhouse, both melodically and lyrically, all merlot glow and tenderness. Embrace the warmth here:

We’ll close with a couple new faces and songs from bands I’ve never really gotten into, despite an inordinate amount of hype.  First up comes the lead single from Buck Meek’s latest solo album, Two Saviors (due out in January).  Meek is the guitarist for indie darling Big Thief, who critics adore, but I’ve never really gotten into. (Although I do like the track “Masterpiece,” for one.)

Meek’ solo stuff is more in the folksy Americana vein, which works a little better, his warbling voice pairing nicely with his acoustic guitar.  The lead single “Second Sight” is in line with his previous outings, calling to mind Avett Brothers and Clem Snide at times with its harmonies.  It’s also lyrically in line with our theme of “take it eaaaaaaaasy, man,” all sunshine, hugs, and loving affirmations.  Just lie back and bask in the glow here:

Last up comes a song from a recent Daniel Johnston tribute concert, which starred several of the folks mentioned above — Morby, Waxahatchee, and Tweedy, as well as Beck, Lucius, and more.  Johnston’s another who’s beloved in the indie world (as evidenced in part by that lineup), but one I’ve never really enjoyed on his own.  His lyrics occasionally veer too far into the nonsensical or overly childish, while my ears almost always fight his thin, shaky voice.

That said — when others perform his songs, I tend to hear what I’ve been missing and understand the fuss.  Built to Spill’s album of Johnston covers from this year is really good (sporting tracks like “Life in Vain,” which we wrote about before), while Tweedy’s rendition of “True Love Will Find You in the End” is one of my absolute, all-time favorites. (Particularly when he does it solo.)

For some reason I need to hear it through others’ ears to get it.  Another case in point is Cut Worms’ version of “To Go Home,” which was the highlight of the tribute concert for me.  Repackaging the melody and allowing the slyly funny chorus to shine in a way it just doesn’t in the original, this one’s a real winner.  Give it a listen here:

That’s it for now — until next time, amici. Stay safe, sane, and sequestered…

— BS

Posted on

A Wonderful Life — Antics of the Idle(s)

After a few weeks away — what was I doing, you ask? Off on a multi-week journey into the hinterlands, road tripping in search of adventure and a deeper spiritual connection to myself? Long shore fishing off the coast of Maine, bonding with my grizzled shipmates whilst hunting the most dangerous (and delicious) of catches? Ensconced in a remote learning program, studiously discovering the treasures of Portuguese painters or the peccadilloes of Postgres? Sadly, no. It’s pandemia — I’ve done largely the same sh#$ I’ve been doing the past six months — what have you been doing??? (NOT staying home, distancing, and/or masking up? Oh that’s right — that’s why we’re gonna be stuck with this thing until next Christmas…)

Anyway — after a few weeks in hiding, I wanted to make sure the eight of you didn’t worry about me, so am surfacing with a sign of life. (I also found a few items worth sharing, so if you don’t really care about the first part you at least can have a few new tunes to listen to for your troubles…) One recent discovery in my perpetual search for things to keep me interested/occupied was Boston-based Vundabar, whose debut album Antics came on recently and immediately caught my ear. Sounding a bit like Voxhaul Broadcast, Voxtrot, and the Districts (to ruin the Vox-only comparisons), the album sports solid melodies, bright, jangly guitars, and frontman Brandon Hagen’s slight, wispy voice soaring atop it all.

It’s actually an older album — it dropped way back in 2013 — but is a solid listen top to bottom. There’s surf rock instrumentals (“Troubadour”), revved up indie rockers (“Plains,” “Sad Clown”), and more mellow, melodic tracks (“Kalidasa”), along with the occasional splash of punk (“Hives”). They all flow together nicely, as do the tracks on the band’s follow up album, 2015’s Gawk. That one strips some of the variety and remains more monochromatic, but is also a really good listen with some solid, catchy hooks. (“Oulala” and “Darla” being but two examples.)

Their most recent album is a bit of a disappointing departure as they stripped away all the muscular guitars and rawer bits for a smoother, softer (and I would argue “safer”) feel, but I’ve been enjoying the heck out of their first two. See if you agree, with the one that got me hooked in the first place — “Holy Toledo,” off their debut:

Next comes another discovery, again from an older album I missed the first time around. This one’s courtesy of London-based Shopping whose debut album Consumer Complaints came out the same year as Vundabar’s debut, but that’s where the similarities end. The sound is divergent, much more straightforward, energetic post-punk, with grooves that’ll almost get you dancing on occasion. This was another one that crept into my stream somehow, but I’m glad it did. It’s a good mix of attitude and melody, and while later albums watered that down and got repetitive, this one’s got a lot to keep you happy. Check out “In Other Words” here:

We’ll close with some quickies, first with the sad news that Justin Townes Earle, the son of Steve Earle, passed away last week. The singer/songwriter had long struggled with drug addiction and even overdosed several times before, but in recent years seemed to have been on the mend, so his passing is doubly disappointing.

Earle became known for his storytelling lyrics (similar to those of his namesake, Townes Van Sandt, or even his father) and his songs easily walked between more traditional country fare and softer, sadder songs. I always preferred the latter, which always felt more confessional — tracks like “Someday I’ll be Forgiven for This,” “Rogers Park,” or “Mama’s Eyes” each showcased his songwriting skills and his heart. Try the latter, off his 2009 Midnight at the Movies:

Next comes the latest from another singer/songwriter, this time in the form of fave Kevin Morby.  It’s been several months since I had the pleasure of spending time with Morbzahatchee, the two headed treat formed by Kevin and his lady, Ms Katie Crutchfield. Their many livestreams formed the beginning of my lockdown life, but sadly they’ve been away the past few months.  Ms Katie took some time to do a weekly concert series where she’d play one of her albums start to finish, and it sounds like Sir Kevin is planning to do the same soon — including songs from his surprise upcoming album, Sundowner, which should arrive in October.

Morby just released Oh My God last year, which landed at #7 on the annual wrapup.  Somehow he’s got another batch of tunes ready to roll, though, which is in line with his rather prolific pace. (He’s released six albums the past seven years, all of which are really quite good.)  It sounds like a portion of this material (if not all) actually precedes his last album, he just hadn’t felt the time was right for it yet.

Thankfully that time has come, and if the first single is any indication we should be in for more of the same solid songwriting and melodies he’s given us to date. Looking forward to it — check out “Campfire” and its video (which shows some very sweet glances and interactions between the halves of Morbzahatchee) here:

We’ll stick with the singer/songwriter theme one last time, this time for Father John Misty, who’s been busy releasing a bunch of covers lately. (A couple Leonard Cohen tracks, in addition to a T Rex cover this week.) He also dropped a couple new songs in between, one of which is the lovely “To R.,” which sports Misty and a plaintive piano. There’s no news of an impending album, so we’ll have to ride out the tide with these while we wait — give it a listen here:

We’ll stay under the covers a moment longer as White Reaper got into the act, too, recently, doing a version of 80s band Cleaners from Venus’ song “Only a Shadow.” It’s a bit of a surprising choice — despite being from the decade where Reaper finds most of their influences, Cleaners skew much more towards the idiosyncratic, isolationist side of the dial instead of the arena-friendly anthems the band is known for. (Cleaners being the side project of Brit eccentric and solo artist Martin Newell.)

They make it sound like a natural fit, though, soaking the guitars in layers of reverb, while otherwise staying true to the original’s early Cure vibe. It’s a good listen (and like all well-executed covers, a good excuse to explore some of the source material) — give it a ride here:

We’ll close with the latest from Idles, whose upcoming album Ultra Mono should be a perfect soundtrack to the ongoing deluge of dick punches this year has been doling out. The band recently did a trio of live streams from fabled Abbey Road studios, similar to GBV’s plugged in, full band, no crowd offering a month or so ago. And similar to that band’s outing, it was kind of awesome.

The guys mixed up three brisk, brawling sets with songs from each of their albums, along with a couple throwaway covers. (Their homage to their location and the Beatles “Helter Skelter” being a notable exception.) They sounded really tight live, shifting tempos and grooves with all the force and fury of frontman Joe Talbot’s customary delivery.

The new material in particular sounded good, including previously unheard tracks “War” and “Kill em with Kindness,” which finds the band channeling their inner Lizard more than ever to powerful effect. The latter track is an instant favorite, with Talbot’s nonsensical lyrics bouncing off an absolutely irresistible riff — can’t wait til the rest of the album arrives. Enjoy this one in the meantime — I’ve sure been wearing it out this past week.

Until next time, amici… –BS

Posted on

A Threepeat from the Land of Repeat — New Quarantunes

Another week (I think?), another milestone, and this being the far less endearing version of groundhog day that we’re living in, it’s not a great one. That’s because we just topped 5M cases of coronavirus (“We’re number 1! We’re number 1!”), a feat we accomplished in a mere 17 days — it’s true, this is two days slower than it took us to go from 3M to 4M cases, but focusing on that distinction is a bit like celebrating drunkenly vomiting on only your right shoe instead of your pants, shirt, and dog like last time.

As a result I’ve notched another mark on the proverbial prison wall to commemorate another week indoors.  (At this point it’s starting to look like a frenzied wolverine was trying to claw its way out there’s so many marks…) A good part of that time was spent delving into a couple bands I discovered last week during the virtual Lolla — Skegss and Briston Maroney.

The former are a trio from Australia specializing in fast, bright surf/skate punk, which kept the energy high this week while working. One of the many perks of Lolla back in the day was getting exposed to acts from the UK and Australia that you’d never heard of (but quickly fell for), showing off the best and brightest for the first time in the US —  sort of a debutante ball for bands.  Over the years there have been a bunch of finds from the land down under — Vance Joy, Courtney Barnett, Atlas Genius, Knife Party, San Cisco, etc — and I’d add these guys to the list now, too.

Their performance wasn’t especially noteworthy — mainly frontman Ben Reed engulfing the mike with his mop of golden hair while thrashing at his guitar — but the band’s hooks and carefree attitude came through loud and clear and grabbed you by the ears.  Sounding a little like a less flippant FIDLAR, the boys burned through their brief set and left you wanting more. That feeling persists when listening to their myriad EPs or their full length debut, My Own Mess. Filled almost top to bottom with winning tunes, that album got a solid workout this week — from the title track to songs like “Up in the Clouds,” “Smogged Out,” “Paradise,” and “Margarita” (which should officially be required to play whenever drinking the titular tipple) it’s a fun, catchy listen throughout its fifteen tracks. Start with the one that hooked me in their set, though, their latest single, “Under the Thunder:”

As for Maroney, his set was a little more incendiary, starting quietly with him following a red string through a hallway, down some stairs, and into an empty venue where his band was already waiting before quickly escalating into some guitar-led pyrotechnics.  The lanky, long-haired Maroney is based out of Nashville and has released a series of EPs the past three years, each steadily more impressive than the last.  Sounding like a mix of Arkansas’ Welles, Pennsylvania’s The Districts, and fellow Tennessean Bones Owens, Maroney pairs his high-pitched voice with some solid guitar licks that span the blues and indie rock realms effortlessly.

His hit to miss ratio on those EPs is high — songs like “Virginia” and “Hangin Round” from 2017’s Big Shot, “Hard to Tell” and “Freakin’ Out on the Interstate” from 2018’s Carnival, and “Small Talk” and “Caroline” from 2019’s Indiana all shine, juxtaposing a frailty in his voice with some forceful guitar to winning effect. He flexes the latter more live, as during this version of “Interstate” (which is pretty comparable to his Lolla performance and a great song). Will definitely be keeping my eyes out for him if/when we’re ever able to leave our houses and have concerts again — in the meantime check out that clip and the aforementioned “Small Talk,” both killer tunes:

We’ll close with one more discovery, the ridiculously (yet somewhat endearingly) named Rainbow Kitten Surprise.  Hailing from the tiny town of Boone, North Carolina, these guys sport a winning mix of Local Natives’ laid back vibe, Voxhaul Broadcast’s energetic indie, and Lewis del Mar’s hip hop-inspired grooves.  Frontman Sam Melo sounds just like the latter act’s Danny Miller in both tone and tempo, with his high-pitched voice alternating between soulful croon and sing/speak rapping.  As with that band, though, it works well here, with the band casually spanning multiple genres on their albums.

Their most recent two were getting the heaviest workout this week, 2015’s RKS and 2018’s How To: Friend, Love, Freefall, the latter being a slightly more eclectic mix (as hinted at by the somewhat odd title).  From tracks like that album’s “It’s Called: Freefall” and “Painkillers” to “Run,” “Cocaine Jesus,” and “The Comedown” from the former, they’re both really good listens. Aside from the aforementioned bands there’s a little bit of the Shakes’ Brittany Howard and tUnE-yArDs’ Merrill Garbus in the bands’ soulful and strange moments, respectively, as well as late era Kings of Leon in some of their guitars. This mishmash of influences and styles could fail miserably, but the band holds it together nicely — would like to see these guys on the festival circuit, holding court in the open air.  Enjoy this one while we wait, “Goodnight Chicago” from their second album:

That’s all for now — until next time, amici… –BS

Posted on

Lolla2020 — I Know You Got Soul(wax)

Despite the continuing boom in corona cases and related deaths across the country (which show everything is “under control,” according to some) my days remain largely unchanged — stay barricaded indoors for almost the entire day? Check. Pass the time with work, some light puzzling, and heavy Rizzing? Check. Scour the intertubes for good music and write about it for an adoring population that could fit in a small minivan? CHECK!

We have started to get some pieces of pre-pandemia back, though — baseball, basketball, and hockey have started up again to varying levels of success, and despite some initial annoyances with fake noise and hokey virtual crowds, it’s surprising how quickly the initial strangeness of the stands being empty wears off. Similar to my question in the last post about whether it’s harder for the band to get going without the fans to spur them on, I wonder if that applies here, as well.  You can’t tell it from the quality of play, though, just as with Dr Bob and the boys.

One other return was last weekend’s Lollapalooza, which this year was a four day virtual festival mixing archival performances with new mini-sets from scads of performers. It was an interesting experiment — gone were the cruel collisions with multiple performers going on at the same time.  Gone, too, were the 10PM curfews, so the sets stretched well into the early morning hours — as late as 2 or 3AM on Friday and Saturday night!  The traditional “headliner” spots were also gone, with several previous headliners scattered throughout the day instead of posting up at the end of the line.

There were minor quibbles, as always — aside from the schedule being larded with a lot of mediocre acts, in my opinion (apparently my days as a flower-crown wearing 20-something who’s more easily impressed are long behind me), the decisions behind how many songs each act got were somewhat inscrutable. (Some — like Pearl Jam and White Reaper, for example — got one measly song, whereas plenty of others got anywhere from three to five, and that determination seemed to have nothing to do with name recognition, album sales, or talent.) Also, for a festival that has four days of no limits programming potential (ie no curfews) and 25 years’ worth of footage in the archives, it seems strange that they a) decided not to use more of it and b) didn’t use anything older than 2008.

If I had a global population largely confined to their houses and a free forum at my disposal like Youtube, I would have filled almost the entire day — or just start at noon like the festival regularly does if you want to be conservative — with material.  What’s the downside?  While I love that they stretched the back end into the wee hours of the night, they really missed an opportunity to make this a true “must see” event for multiple generations of music fans.

Keep your newcomers like TeaMarrr, Kali Uchis, and Scarypoolparty that are lost on fogeys like me, but why not thrown in classic performances from the early years of the festival from acts like Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, and the Chili Peppers?  Or more recent sets from headliners like Kanye, Green Day, Radiohead, and Rage? Or what about the legendary performance from the pyramid by Daft Punk — my brain is still recovering from that 13 years later… Hell, even just expanding the sets from the headliners they had in this year’s crowd would have made sense. (The aforementioned PJ, along with folks like the Cure, Metallica, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, for example.)

On balance there was mostly enough to keep you going across the four days (although I’m glad I didn’t have to ride out the long stretches of “meh” in person) and I’m happy they held it vs not, just feel like they really had a chance to make it something special — particularly in these weird, troubling times with such a large captive audience. Oh well — ONE day I will be in charge and get to run Sunshine Fest exactly how I want to.  I’m sure the eight of you who attend will enjoy the shit out of it…

Two of the full sets from last weekend got me thinking — LCD’s 2016 set and Arcade Fire’s 2010 performance. (Here’s another annoyance for the list — for some reason they’ve taken some — but not all — of the performances down, so you just get a fan shot of the latter’s closer, the epic exhilarator of “Wake Up.”) Aside from being a nice trip down memory lane, both to when I was there to enjoy them in person and to a time where you were able to be in crowds that large and not worry you were going to die (seriously — remember how great it felt to be in a crowd like that in the Arcade video, singing at the top of your lungs with 100,000 other people? Sigh — see you in 2022…) they reminded me of another favorite act, that of the brilliant Belgian brothers in Soulwax (aka 2 Many DJs).

They’d performed at Lolla before, too (also in 2010, which definitely was one of the better years — look at that fucking lineup!) and had done remixes for both of the bands in subsequent years — two of my favorite, actually, which was what brought them to mind.  I’d discovered them years ago when I was living in London and would catch their Friday or Saturday night shows where they’d be spinning as 2 Many DJs before we’d go out on the tiles.  This was back when mashups were just becoming a thing and if these guys were not inventors of the genre, they were definitely among its perfectors, as those weekend shows were always packed with ingenious pairings — the Stooges with Salt n Pepa, Destiny’s Child with Nirvana, Walter Murphy and the Big Apple Band with Beethoven. Yes, that Beethoven!

It took me years to track down bootlegs of some of those old shows (the coveted As Heard on Radio Soulwax series — check out episode 2 (one of the best) for a taste), but in later years it got easier to enjoy the fruits of their labors.  A few years back they released the excellent Radio Soulwax app, which allowed folks to download full sets of either live performances or genre-specific experiments that often sported their characteristic visuals, animating the album covers in time with the music.

The brothers also started doing big name official remixes that were equally ear-grabbing, and the ones they did for Arcade and LCD are two of my three favorites.  I’d been slated to see them when they came through town on a rare tour of the states this year (their Lolla set was one of the few trips they’d previously made across the pond, which added to my enjoyment back then), but that’s been scuttled like everything else.

Some of the sets from the old app have disappeared, but a few of my favorites are still out there, including the Under the Covers series (essentially live sets packed with mashups and their killer visuals) and my favorite genre-specific one, the slowed down Belgian house set of Cherry Moon. All of those are excellent, as are the aforementioned remixes that got me thinking/talking way back at the beginning. Check out these two (along with the third favorite I mentioned) as appetizers before diving into the app sets — there’s the woozy “Sprawl II,” the slow burn of “You Wanted a Hit,” and the pure bliss of “Kids,” one of their first (and best):

There were a few singles flying around the past few weeks that were worth noting, too (and not just from my Cubbies’ red hot offense!), the first from National frontman (and Fuddge Pop fave) Matt Berninger.  It’s the second song from his upcoming solo album (Serpentine Prison, due 2 Oct) and while the first one (like the band’s last album) left me a little underwhelmed, this one’s a solid return to form.  Hopefully there’s more like it to come… Check out the hushed luxury of “Distant Axis:”

We’ll shift gears a bit to catch the latest from Toronto titan Drake, who’s also been on a hit or miss streak of late. His last album Scorpion was a largely bloated affair, but did have a couple killer cuts on it (none more so than the irresistible “Nice for What”) and his recent singles have been similarly underwhelming (the latest “Toosie Slide” didn’t spark the disco inferno it seemed aimed at, but DID light the internet on fire with comments about the video showing his absurd mansion). In times of trouble it’s best to retreat to your safe zone, which for Drake means pairing with the producer of some of his biggest hits, DJ Khaled.  They dropped two last week, only one of which is worth your time — check out “Popstar” here:

We’ll close with another quiet one, and make it a concert set to come full circle. This one’s from my all-time favorite — the one who if I was forced to pick JUST ONE (no “in this genre” or “in these circumstances” type qualifiers allowed) would be the one I took with no reservations, the sadly departed Elliott Smith.  Yesterday was his birthday — a fact I stumbled on by accident, but which drove me to listen to his first ever show to end the day.  It’s a pretty great listen — not only because this was back in the dark ages of the internet so it’s remarkable this thing even exists, let alone with this audio quality, but because it shows how prolific Smith was in his short time here.

The set only has a couple songs from his debut album, which is surprising for a 30 minute debut, and already has several tracks that would appear on later albums. (“Alphabet Town,” the opening strains of “Needle in the Hay”) That Smith was already looking to the next album — before he’d even performed his first one! — and already had this many songs in the can (several from the set would only appear after his passing, in fact — “Some Song,” “Big Decision,” “Whatever (Folk Song in C)”) is remarkable and (as always) tragic that we didn’t get to hear more.

I often think about what someone like Smith would record in times like this — would he turn more insular and try to further find beauty in the sadness or would he turn outward and be more dissonant and overtly angry as on some of his later songs? That we’ll never know continues to sadden — similar to former Frightened Rabbit frontman Scott Hutchison, whose band came on Sunshine Radio last night and sparked similar feelings of loss and regret.  As with Hutchison, though, we’re lucky to have as much as we do to hold onto, finding new meanings and moods with every listen.  For Elliott, see where it all started, 26 long years ago:

Until next time, amici — stay safe… –BS

 

Posted on

A Light from Lockdown: Guided by GBV?

As it’s currently too hot to do anything but hideout inside and pray your air conditioner keeps working (it’s over 80 degrees at 7am and has been over 90 every day but one the last four weeks…), I thought I’d pop in with a few recommendations to keep you busy. The coronavirus continues to spread more rapidly than the heat lately (we’ve set single-day records several times the past week, including topping 70,000 confirmed cases on back-to-back days…), which means our four month hibernation is likely going to continue a good spell longer.

This also means concerts are sadly unlikely to appear in our lives anytime soon, which to someone who’s obsessed with music is an increasingly difficult (albeit absolutely necessary) pill to swallow, particularly as good new music continues to be released.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s always great to bliss out and listen to things on the headphones, focusing on and savoring every little detail, but the ultimate test/enjoyment for me is to then see most of them performed live.  Sometimes it takes mediocre albums into full on adored status (Gogol is a textbook example, as their albums simply can’t capture the unfettered delirium and energy of their live shows). Other times it works in reverse, taking adored albums down a peg after seeing them performed live. (Andrew Bird is the example here, as his performances have always disappointed me, but he remains one of my favorite artists and his albums routinely show up here on year end lists — including topping last year’s.)

Most of the time, though, it enhances the enjoyment and takes things to another level. So as this pandemic has progressed and our music venues have remained shuttered, we’ve been left with an intermittent flurry of livestreams from artists to tide us over, which is a little like having to survive on a sip or two of water (or worse, your own piss) every couple hours when stranded in the desert — it may be enough to keep you going, but it nowhere near slakes your thirst (or is your preference overall). These livestreams have usually taken the form of either stripped down acoustic affairs or archival footage of previous performances, and they’ve been mostly enjoyable affairs. (I’ve posted several of both here the past four months.)

The former gives you a chance to enjoy the songs in a new light, while the latter lets you walk down memory lane — at best to a show you might’ve been at or at worst to those halcyon days when we could be around strangers without worrying about whether they would kill you without touching you. (Back then the worst we had to worry about was killing people FOR touching you — “if you bump into me and spill your chardonnay on my shoes ONE MORE time, Becky…”) Like Saul sipping his piss, though, you just wish you could go back to normal and see the real deal.

Maybe it’s worse now because it’s festival season and the urge to be outside seeing dozens of good bands in the sun is as high as the temps (two in particular I’d been excited to see were Car Seat and MMJ, both of whose new albums are twisting the knife right now). Or maybe it’s because it’s been over four months and you know it isn’t ending anytime soon (so seeing places like the UK resuming indoor shows starting next week is doubly cruel.) Regardless, it’s slowly eating away at me, so I was particularly intrigued when I saw a band announce a slightly different approach to the above — a “normal” performance: ie the whole band, plugged in and ready to rock, on stage from a venue, with lights and multiple cameras capturing the action.  You pay the normal ticket price and you get a full on show (unlike the abbreviated ones typical for the acoustic livestreams). The only thing missing would be the people.

That the band doing this was the beloved GBV made it all the more compelling, so I shelled out my 25 bucks to see how the experiment went (also because it’d likely be the only time I’d get to see them perform their upcoming album live, as they’ll likely have released 11 others by the time we’re done with this lockdown.)  The band billed it as a one night, virtual “world tour,” encouraging everyone to grab a beer (or two) and tune in, and I gotta say — it was kind of awesome.  The band played for nearly two and a half hours, so you definitely got your money’s worth, and they played almost exactly as if it was a regular show — thrashing about, striking various poses, whipping the mike around and taking drinks from their beers between songs like they usually do. Plus you got to watch it as many times as you liked for a limited time and got a free download of the show for future listens.

Did I miss being there and miss the energy of being surrounded by 100s/1000s of others reacting to and/or singing along to the songs? For sure.  And I missed the banter of Doctor Bob, as he joked with (or heckled) the crowd and went on random tangents between songs.  But the sound was amazing — it was just like being at a show, everybody well balanced and easy to hear (no cruddy DIY setups like on the acoustic streams) — and being able to see everything on stage without struggling to see around human sequoias or dealing with annoying elbowers/spillers/talkers like at normal shows was pretty great. I could see short people (such as wifey) who often don’t get to see much of what’s going on really enjoying this, so I’m curious if it starts to catch on.

The band got around 80% of the proceeds (best I can tell), with the other 20% going to local indie venues like the Metro back home or 9:30 here who helped promote the show in advance. (Noonchorus, who hosted the show, added a $5 surcharge to the ticket price to cover their fees.) I’m not sure what the typical ratio is per show, but I could see this being better for the bands and a “better than nothing” option for the venues (at least while we’re stuck in quarantine). Sure there’s less shows to make money on, but they get a better cut and get to stay home with their families, so maybe it’s a net positive for them.

From the fan side, being able to see/hear everything and enjoy it from the comfort of your home, drinking for free while still supporting the bands and venues, it’s definitely an option I’d do again. The main question I have is how hard/enjoyable is it for the band — there were a couple times in the set when the one or two folks in the room (ostensibly friends/family) could be heard hollering after a song, but for the most part it was silent, so I wonder how much fun that sucks out of the experience for the artists and if that prevents more from doing it.  An interesting experiment, to be sure, and a definite upgrade from the lower-fi acoustic sets.  Hopefully we’ll see some more of these from artists in the coming months, as we continue to languish in lockdown. Bravo to Doctor Bob and the boys for trying something like this out and showing another possible way.

Going back to the old models (ie re-released old performances), one worth noting that I found this week was this 2018 show from the late John Prine. It’s filmed at the House of Strombo (aka the living room of Canadian radio DJ George Stroumboulopoulos) right after the release of Prine’s excellent Tree of Forgiveness album, and is a really great set.  Prine is his lovely, affable self, joking with the crowd between songs before setting off on another great tune.  This being later years Prine, his endearingly gravelly voice is in full flourish, giving additional texture and warmth to the songs. There’s even a crowd-led kazoo section if you still had any reservations — definitely worth a watch/listen:

One last discovery as I continued rummaging around the Prine rabbithole was Tre Burt, who I caught do a couple songs at the virtual Winnipeg Folk Festival last week. He did a cover of Prine’s “Sour Grapes” (one of my favorites), as well as one of his own, and I was really taken by his voice.  Then I listened to his recent debut (Caught It From the Rye) and was further impressed.  Turns out Burt is one of only two artists to sign to Prine’s Oh Boy records the past 15 years (the other, Kelsey Waldon, is next on my research list), which speaks to his quality. (If you can win over the old man, who am I to oppose?) Both his debut and his Takes from the Dungeon EP are really good, nice blends of Prine-like storytelling and a warm, raspy voice. A great place to start is with the opening track from the recent album, “What Good” — check it out here (with a video from New Orleans in the early pandemic days):

That’s it for now, my friends — stay safe, cool, and quarantined… –BS

Posted on

Jose, Can You See — Songs of Kings and Rebels

It being the start of a long weekend in honor of the 4th, I figured what better way to commemorate the holiday than by revisiting the battle of our formation and pitting our former colonial masters against the scrappy upstarts here in the new world — musically speaking, of course.  So this week we’ve got a batch of stuff from bands in the UK, balanced with offerings from those here in the US — and since we won we get one extra (sorry, suckers) — but first we’ll start with my recent obsession, a funky band from Canada named Pottery. (It IS America’s hat, so maybe we get two extra…)

I first mentioned these guys a month or so ago thanks to the strength of their EP, which encompassed the first few singles from this album and I’d been wearing out on the regular. Now that the album is here I’ve been doing more of the same, listening to it front to back over and over again.  The previous singles are spaced out almost equally with one or two new songs in between, serving as familiar anchors while you get acquainted with the new surroundings — and boy, are they some fun new surroundings.

The album as a whole plays like a breathless, infectious frenzy, slowly whipping you into a lather before dousing you with some cool water at the end with the lovely closer, “Hot Like Jungle.” Up until that point, though, you’re in the unrelenting (and oh so fun) grips of songs like “Hot Heater,” “Down in the Dumps,” “Texas Drums Pt I & II,” and “NY Inn.” (Among others.) The full album deepens the feelings from the singles with the band really calling to mind early Talking Heads with all their frantic energy, jittery riffs, and irresistible motion.

As good as so many of the tracks are, it really deserves to be enjoyed in full — because quite honestly, when are you guaranteed to have nearly 40 minutes of unfettered fun these days? Rather than split out any of the frenetic fever dreams and diminish their impact, I’ll leave you with the finale and the sweet “Hot Like Jungle.” It’s a great song (there’s some strong satisfaction with singing the line “oooooh that’s nice, ooooooh that’s nice — hot like juuuuungleeeeeeeee” in its awkward, odd glory) and the perfect comedown to the rest of the album.  You’ll enjoy it even more once you’ve experienced the sweatiness surrounding it first — in the meantime, give it a ride here:

The other recent obsession has been the latest Run the Jewels album, which aside from absolutely ripping verses from Mike and El, includes a host of guest appearances from Josh Homme, Mavis Staples, Pharrell, DJ Premier, and Rage’s Zach de la Rocha. It’s a perfectly timed album — a) because with the world melting down, we need good music to keep us going, and (more importantly) b) because the guys are spitting some ultra relevant rhymes on the racial issues plaguing our country and contributing (rightfully so) to that meltdown. You can tell the two are serious, as almost all the dick jokes and horsing around are gone so as not to distract from the lyrical content.  It’s a monster of an album — it will definitely be showing up here at the end of the year, the only question is in what place — and aside from some of the best beats the boys have deployed to date, the verses are just top notch.  Examples abound, but none are more head exploding and poignant than the ones the guys rattle off in this one, “Walking in the Snow.” Crank it up, clean your ears, and take notice:

Next comes the latest from the erratic, at times odious, but almost always excellent Kanye who dropped a new song this week. (Two, actually, if you count his verse on Ty Dolla Sign’s track.) He’s been on a bit of a downward trend in my book, as the eight of you are likely already aware — his last album was the first I didn’t buy in its entirety and his five mini-disc spree in five weeks back in 2018 was a hit or miss medley best digested as a mixtape, as I wrote about then.  And then there’s the “I’ve gone gospel” and all the political stuff to deal with.  It can be a bit much (ok, a LOT, even for fans like me), so it’s not clear what we’re dealing with here — but just taking the song on its own terms, it’s pretty darn good.  Really good beat (almost Yeezus like in its heft), decent enough lyrics from Ye and Travis Scott — we’ll see what comes next, but for now this is a solid addition to the summer songlist. See what you think here:

We’ll close with a couple performances from the archives that were worth a watch/listen.  Now that Shaky Knees has joined the ranks of Lolla, Coachella, and all other major festivals — dashing my hopes for live music/fun anytime in the foreseeable future — it looks like livestreams and old performances are the only way we’re going to satisfy our urge for live music. (Save you taking up the ukelele and putting on sidewalk performances for me — give me a call if you are, Rizzo and I will watch from the window.) As a result, Pickathon extended its series pulling a new concert from its archives each day, and two I found noteworthy were from Kevin Morby and Blind Pilot.

Morby’s is from 2015 and despite being only five years ago he looks like a baby-faced troubadour, running through a set of early songs (including a ripping version of “Harlem River”) in his 45-minute set.  It’s from my favorite era of his so far, with the wondrous Meg Duffy playing alongside him on stage, so is great to go back and see this version of the band in full force. (Side note: I really miss Morbzahatchee streams — when are they coming back?!?)

As for Portland’s own Blind Pilot, their set was more of a surprise. I’d written about these guys back on the old site in 2015, but hadn’t really kept up with them since. Their set from the year prior was a really lovely, relaxing reminder that maybe I should, though, so see if it sparks the same in you:

With that we’ll jump across the pond to hang with the losers a bit (I kid — I’d live there again in a heartbeat, particularly as COVID swirls like pollen over here while they’re doing far better, among other deserved knocks on our homeland of late.)  We’ll start with the upcoming reunion of Doves, which has been in the offing for a while now.  I wrote about it back in April of last year when they’d announced they were recording new material, but it’d been crickets since then.

Thankfully they released the first song last week, and even more thankfully it sounds just like the rest of their stuff — no decay from years of disuse or dangerous new styles trying to capitalize on current trends. Just classic Doves — frontman Jimi Goodwin’s swooning vocals, Andy Williams’ sturdy drums, and guitarist Jez Williams’ swirling guitars. Let’s hope the rest of the album is as good as this — check out “Carousels” in the meantime:

Next comes the latest single from Irish act Fontaines D.C., who are set to release their sophomore album at the end of the month. (A Hero’s Death is due out 31 July.) They’ve showed up here before, thanks to their occasionally excellent debut, Dogrel. This one’s a bit more sedate than some of the stuff that showed up there, sporting a hypnotic riff from guitarists Conor Curley and Carlos O’Connell and some repetitive chants from frontman Grain Chatten.  It works well, though, so will be interesting to see if this is a new direction for the band once the full album arrives.  Check out “Televised Mind” while we wait:

It being the 4th we’ll close with some fireworks, courtesy of the brash boys from Bristol, Idles. They’re back with the second single from their upcoming third album, Ultra Mono (due out 25 Sept).  They’ve shown up a couple times here before, courtesy of their huge sound and the gonzo energy of frontman Joe Talbot, whose occasionally nonsensical lyrics are nevertheless tremendously satisfying to shout at high volumes while raging out with the band. (ALL ABOARD THE COCAINE GHOST TRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!)

Their latest bottles up the tension, threatening to explode but never letting it get there, which is not to say this is a letdown in any form or fashion — Jon Beavis still lays down a pulverizing beat that guitarist Mark Bowen throws a wicked buzzsaw riff on, and Talbot is his usual winning self. Excited to see what else they’ve got in store for us — enjoy “Grounds” for now:

Before we go, wanted to throw one last thing out there for folks — I’m not sure where everyone gets their music news from these days (other than here for you eight beloved heroes), but one of my key sources, Stereogum, just sent out a crowdsourced plea for help thanks to COVID killing concerts, their major source of revenue. They’ve already raised over $230,000 (!?!), but still have another $20k to go in order to keep their writers on staff and keep the site going.

In addition to supporting a good cause (IMO) you’ll get an exclusive album of current bands doing covers of early ’00s classics (songlist to be revealed) among other goodies, so please share with others and support if you can/feel like it. Should be a good one once released — Car Seat, Death Cab, Hamilton, PUP, the National, Ty Segall, Waxahatchee, White Reaper, and others who’ve appeared here are all on there.

That’s it — hope everyone has a safe, quiet holiday.  Until next time… –BS

Posted on

Prinetime — Once More with the Mailman from Maywood

It’s been another couple weeks (I think?) — rather tumultuous weeks, actually — and that has given a little more variety to the stay-at-home stasis.  As the coronavirus continues to rage (we doubled the confirmed case count again this week — from 1M to 2M, this time — and did so in just 45 days... But sure, most places are good to open back up — it’s summer! I’m sure the heat will take care of it…) it’s been inspiring to see the global protests demanding police reform and an end to systemic racism. (Or at least a non-half-assed attempt to significantly fix key pieces if we’re not able to sustain our focus/effort/will long enough to fully eradicate it — it’s summer!)

Seeing thousands of folks around the globe — as well as plenty of places you wouldn’t expect in our country (Cedar Rapids?! Boise?! Rural West Virginia?!) — taking to the streets to demand change has been pretty amazing, and it restored some hope in me for my fellow citizens. (Hope that had previously been eradicated as people packed into bars, beaches, and other spaces the past few weeks as states began to reopen. Oh and that whole systemic racism thing…)

Another restorative piece has been my diving into John Prine’s songs, which was sparked by his unfortunate passing early on from the virus and has continued unabated in the months since.  I’d always known about him — knew he was from back home and always seemed to have a smile on his face whenever I saw him (it’s how we all are, coming from the greatest place on earth…) — but never really got too into his music for whatever reason. It’ll be one of the things I’m most thankful for once this pandemic has passed, though, that I finally had the time/reason to do so, as he’s been a frequent soundtrack to my mornings on the porch — the cruel reality being it took his passing to make it happen.

There was a really wonderful tribute to him last night — one of many the past few months — put together by his wife and family.  It had the usual mix of covers of Prine’s biggest songs by some of his biggest fans (Dan Auerbach, Jason Isbell, Sturgill Simpson, Reba McEntire — even Kevin Bacon showed up, proving yet again he is connected to literally everyone on the planet), along with stories told by friends (including Bill Murray) and old footage and interviews of John.  It was pretty great — funny, moving, sad, and happy.  Just like Prine’s songs.

It’s worth a watch/listen if you’ve got time — if only to get to know more about a really good songwriter (and seemingly genuinely good guy) who’s sadly no longer with us.  There’s some really great stuff in there… In conjunction with the tribute, his wife/label released the last song he recorded, the lovely “I Remember Everything.”  As always in these situations, the song takes on an extra gravity knowing what comes next, but would have been moving even if Prine was still with us.  Just one more piece of evidence regarding his immense talent.  Give it a listen here (and really — listen to Prine.  You’ll be thankful you did…):

It’s been pretty quiet otherwise in the midst of all the tumult — lots of the livestreams have quieted, and even the dependable daily stalwart Tweedy Show has gone dark for large chunks of time.  (Partly in solidarity with the protests, partly because he’s apparently writing another book.)  Two minor items of note that popped up are the lead track from the upcoming Jason Molina album and an unreleased song from Beach Fossils that I thought were worth sharing.

First the upcoming album from another departed talent, this one from Jason Molina, better known (at least to some) as the man behind Songs: Ohia, the strangely named (but lovely sounding) act he helmed for fifteen years and almost as many albums. (Start with The Lioness if you’re looking to jump in.) It’s an entire solo album, recorded when he was living in London in the late-2000s and subsequently shelved for some reason.  Assuming it’s as good as the lead single, that will be a good thing for us.  Check out “Shadow Answers the Wall” here:

Next comes the aforementioned Fossils song, an unreleased track from the time of their excellent self-titled debut, which somehow is already 10 years old and getting an anniversary reissue this month.  The track is in line with the rest of the band’s sound — shimmery, soft, and super soothing — a recipe in high demand these days.  Glad we’ve got another entry to bliss out to while we wait for a new album.  Check out “Time” here:

Speaking of calming, chill affairs, two other albums I’ve been listening to on repeat are the latest from Muzz and Mt Joy, as they both serve heaping helpings of that coveted recipe.  We’ve highlighted a few tracks for the former here before — it’s Interpol frontman Paul Banks’ new side project with former Walkmen drummer Matt Barrick, to give a quick reminder– and it’s a pretty great little album.  Really pretty melodies, suuuuuuper chill vibe, which as I mentioned goes down reaaaaaaaal easy these days.  “Patchouli” is a current fave — give it a spin here:

As for Mt Joy, their new album is also pretty fantastic, one that evokes the emotion of their name many times over on its thirteen tracks. I’d first discovered these guys back at Lolla a few years ago and immediately fell for their jubilant, full-throated songs, which sounded perfect in the early day sunshine. Their 2018 debut was really good (the self-titled Mt Joy), but somehow I appear to have never written about these guys before.  Thankfully the arrival of the new album is causing me to correct that, as Rearrange Us is similarly packed with pretty, uplifting songs.

One of my initial faves is this one, “Witness,” which flashes some unexpected fury (“shut off that stupid song, I should cut out your tongue”) before breaking into a beautiful, swooning refrain.  It shows some range from the band, which could easily have kept singing feel-good anthems in the summer sun.  Instead, this album shows them tackling heavier subjects (infidelity, death, etc — the previous lyric coming after walking in on an unfaithful spouse, for instance) while maintaining their lovely melodies and optimistic spirit.  It’s a really good listen — I suspect it, and Muzz, will end up here at the end of the year, based on initial listens — but in the meantime enjoy this one here:

That’s it for now, amici — stay safe/strong… –BS

 

Posted on

UK Computer — Slow Gerry Action

Realized it’s been a couple weeks — weeks? Months? I’m not sure anymore, actually — all time has lost significance in Pandemia… — so wanted to pop in with some more music to fuel your fugue.  Since we can’t travel anymore (what will take longer — you feeling comfortable getting on a cross-country/ocean plane or you hugging/handshaking another person?) thought we could vicariously skip across the pond to the Queen’s backyard for a little ramble through the realm. We’ll start with my former homeland and the work of a bunch of Scots, first the acoustic offerings of Gerry Cinnamon.  Aside from being a fun alias generator (your grandfather’s name and a spice — Milt Cardamom! Duke Rosemary! Ellis Coriander!) ole Gerry makes quite a ruckus with just his voice and guitar, belting out bangers that would whip the local pub into a festive singalong.

His music is perfectly suited for that type of venue — raucous, warm rooms filled with clinking pints and chatty people. (Remember those? Pop quiz 2 — what will take longer, you feeling comfortable being in a packed bar/club or you not wanting to wash your hands immediately after touching a door handle/credit card keypad/elevator button?) And while we may not be able to see him (or anyone) in those settings quite yet, his album conjures that aura from the comforts of your home.  His second album, The Bonny, is full of songs that will whisk you towards the tavern and is just as winning as his 2017 debut, Erratic Cinematic.

The recipe’s the same — just Cinnamon’s thickly accented voice, acoustic guitar, and simple, earnest lyrics — and while it’s not one you haven’t heard a hundred times before, it’s well-executed and winning here. Songs like “Head in the Clouds,” “Dark Days,” and “Outsiders” are spare strummers, the occasional harmonica thrown in for a little spice, but built on solid melodies that lock you in, while ones like the title track sound like unearthed relics, centuries-old folk songs that have been sung for generations rather than a scant few months. The rest of the album’s much the same — there’s really not a stinker in the bunch — and it’s been an enjoyable, transportive listen the past few weeks.

I’d been looking forward to seeing him live this summer at Shaky Knees (I think seeing him in the sunshine and fresh air will almost be as good an environment for him as that bustling, booming bar), but who knows if/when that’ll ever happen.  In the meantime, take a listen to the lead track “Canter” and savor the added pleasure of hearing/singing lines like “if you were just a wee bit less of a wanker,” which might just be the perfect cure to what ails us. (Along with light, heat, and bleach, of course.)

Second verse, same as the first! We’ll stay in the highlands (why would anyone want to leave?!) and essentially repeat most of what we discussed with young Gerry — a band of Glaswegians, back with their second album, sticking with the sound of their debut (which also came in 2017), putting out high energy, winning tunes that’re almost impossible not to get caught up in. The main difference in this case being who the band calls to mind — whereas Cinnamon reminds you a little of Frank Turner at times, the lads of Catholic Action could be the kids of Franz Ferdinand with their infectious, danceable grooves and their swaggering confidence.

Their second album (Celebrated by Strangers) is a rather breathless affair, opening with five straight songs all but guaranteed to get you moving. Songs like “Grange Hell (South London in D),” “Witness,” “Yr Old Dad,” and “People Don’t Protest Enough” are high octane winners (the latter two showcasing some of that Franzian cheekiness, too, with “Dad” opening with the comical line “Yer ooooooold DAAAAAAAAD is dyyyyyyin” while “People” offers the endlessly enjoyable refrain of “tell me what you d-d-d-d-d. what d-d-d-d-d-desPIIIIIIIIISE!”) They give a bit of a breather on the back half of the album, balancing “Another Name for Loneliness” and “Four Guitars (For Scottish Independence” with slower tracks like “And It Shows” or “Sign Here.” It’s another solid outing for the foursome — none more enjoyable than “One of Us,” whose drunken, carnivalesque breakdown at the end (with the boys deliriously shouting “la da da da da da da da daaaaaaaaaaaa”) will have you laughing and dancing along. Check it out here:

Last offering from the kingdom comes from rapper Slowthai, the rambunctious problem child that the British tabloids just love to hate (or hate to love — maybe both).  You know the profile — covered in tattoos, provocative statements, even more provocative behavior, endlessly grinning at either his own audacity or people’s overheated response to it (or both).  His debut Nothing Great About Britain was underwhelming — similar to most British rap, I found the beats bland and the verses (with their sing song cadence and accented language) similarly limp — but his recent work with Gorillaz and his string of recent singles has me intrigued.

One immediately notices an upgrade on the latter in terms of beats — courtesy of the aptly named Kenny Beats and others, these hit harder than those on his debut and it serves his frantic delivery (and his lyrical content) well. He dropped three in a week and they’re all pretty good — “Magic,” “Enemy,” and “BB (Bodybag)” — the latter being the best, in my opinion, with its haunting earworm of a melody.  We’ll see if these are building to an album or just a series of one-offs to ride out the pandemic — in the meantime give this one a listen:

We’ll come back to this side of the Atlantic for a few closers, first the latest from Kills frontwoman Alison Mosshart who appears to be gearing up for the release of her first solo album.  Her last single “Rise” was a solid listen and this one’s no different, sporting her signature bluesy rasp. Still no word on an official release date, but we’ll keep a lookout and hope for something soon. Check “It Ain’t Water” out in the meantime:

Next comes the latest single from the upcoming debut of Pottery, a Canadian five piece whose frantic energy call to mind early Talking Heads.  They’ve released a couple other tracks from the album, Welcome to Bobby’s Motel (what I say to all visitors of the Sunshine Chateau), but this one’s my early favorite.  Sounding like a potential outcast from the aforementioned band’s 77, this one builds to a killer breakdown that’ll have you stomping along by the end.  Hopefully the rest of the album captures similar magic (it’s due out June 26) — check out “Hot Heater” while we wait:

Last up we’ll head to my favorite place on the planet (#GPOE!) and the latest from Chicago band Primitive Teeth, who just released their second EP (self-titled, just like their first). These guys were a new discovery for me, but I really like what I’ve heard so far.  From the thundering drums to the powerful voice of their lead singer, these guys have a commanding presence that belies their limited time on the scene. (Truth be told, they wouldn’t sound out of place next to some of the early 80s punk bands that surrounded the aforementioned Heads.) You can stream/buy both their EPs off their Bandcamp site, with the lead track from their latest being the best place to start — check out “Bubble of Me” here:

That’s it for now, my friends… –BS

Posted on

Slow Unsteady — Headrests and Morning Jackets

It’s been a relatively quiet couple of weeks in quarantine — the death and unemployment rates continue to climb with worrisome speed and abandon, yet some states are starting to open back up (which feels a bit like ripping off the rubber while you’re still pumping away to me), while the indistinguishable blur of days continues oozing past. (The difference between work day and weekend, at this point, being an extra can of beer and a slightly sassier pair of sweatpants.)  It feels like the stay-at-home orders are finally beginning to take their toll on folks, scrambling their brains and making them a little stir crazy (which perhaps is partly fueling the urge to reopen).  This can cause you to do silly things, like wearing glasses to a mask factory, or putting your underwear on backwards and not noticing it until nearly dinnertime.

It seems like some people’s response now is to just lay there on the couch because even the act of deciding what to watch or order for lunch feels like too much work. That fatigue has translated into the music community, too, as the previous flurry of live streams happening day to day has dropped considerably, with several shifting to the re-airing of old performances in lieu of live ones. Tweedy thankfully remains a nightly stalwart (a true warrior against the Invisible Enemy!), but otherwise it’s been slim pickin’s the past few weeks — Morbzahatchee went on temporary hiatus (sniff), Shaky Knees did a compressed virtual festival showing highlights from previous years as solace for our not being able to be there in person last weekend (sniff), and that’s about it.

Yesterday was actually the first day I had anything non-Tweedy-related to watch in a week and it happened to be good one, an acoustic set from Nathaniel Rateliff from 2019. It was part of Pickathon’s Concert a Day series, which is doing something similar to Shaky, only larger and longer — 60 performances in 60 days, pulling from the festival’s archives to showcase some of the best sets in recent years.  They’ve had sets from Andrew Bird, the Lone Bellow, and others the past few weeks, with folks like Built to Spill, Shakey Graves, and more still to come (they’re a little cagey with the schedule, only releasing a week at a time on their Facebook page, but I got alerts for those already so am hopeful).  It’s been fun to check out the shows while they’re available (you only have three days to watch em, so you gotta stay on point!), which brings us back to Nathaniel’s set.

Recorded just last year, it was predominantly filled with songs from his recently released album (the lovely And It’s Still Alright), which was nice to hear as his show is one of many I was supposed to attend before getting scuttled by the pandemic.  What made the set stand out, though, was Rateliff’s emotional performance, getting choked up with tears towards the end as he talked and sang about his friend Richard Swift, who had helped him record half the album at that point and was the subject of several of its songs. (Swift passed away unexpectedly in 2018.) It was really moving to see someone so openly and honestly struggling with that loss a year later, and it adds a depth and poignancy to the songs (which were already quite pretty). None moreso than the set/album closer, “Rush On,” a song sung directly at Swift (playing on his last name’s implied speed in the title). It’s worth a listen/watch, so catch his performance while you’ve still got time, or check out the album version here if you’re slow and miss it:

Due to the dearth of other options and the letdown of the live streams, I’ve spent the majority of my days obsessively alternating between old My Morning Jacket albums and the new Car Seat Headrest album this week, Making a Door Less Open.  The former got stuck in my head thanks to the virtual Shaky festival, which only played a few songs from favorites like Queens, the National, Manchester Orchestra, and others (including Car Seat), but played the entire headlining set from MMJ on day one.

I’ve always liked these guys in small doses, losing interest when they get overly jammy or hippie dippy, but seeing their set reminded me that when they keep those things in check they’re quite good. (And they are a pretty perfect festival band — I’ve seen em live a couple times and they just seem to pair seamlessly with sunshine and open air.) One that stood out was old favorite “Circuital,” the title track from their 2011 album, which has James’ signature voice soaring out over the crowd as the boys whip them into a lather. It’s a great listen, one I revisited many times this week (along with the rest of the album):

As for the new Car Seat, we’d already heard singles “Can’t Cool Me Down,” “Martin,” and “Hollywood” here before, and they seemed to indicate frontman Will Toledo was moving in a new, more electronic direction (which as the eight of you likely suspect has had me somewhat apprehensive, knowing my love of bands that start including synthesizers later in their careers).  He’d hinted at this before, most notably on 2018’s Twin Fantasy, which re-imagined old songs of his, giving them a dancier vibe than the more traditional indie rock sound on his excellent Teens of Denial and Teens of Style albums.

I’d bristled at that a bit at the time, but after spending an inordinate number of hours with this album this week have apparently come to embrace the new sound (holy hell — he’s growing, folks!) There’s something about the energy here that’s infectious — Toledo always has had the ability to make you want to shout along to certain songs at the top of your lungs (“Killer Whales” and “Bodys” being but two excellent examples) — but that effect is enhanced by the driving groove of some of these tracks.  It’s tough not to move along (maybe tapping both big toes to the beat?!) and none of the tracks is more irresistible (so far) than this one, “Deadlines (Hostile).”  It has all of the above — bouncing bass line, rocking guitar riffs, and several Holy Toledo moments where you’ll be shouting along deliriously (“I know I won’t AAAAAAAAAAALWAAAAAAAAYS needyoulikethis…”) I’ve listened to this easily twenty-five times this week and it still whips me into a frenzy — crank it up and see how it works on you:

We’ll close with a couple one offs, first from Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke who debuted a new song on Fallon last week, “Plasticine Figures.” It’s just Thom and a piano, which is about as perfect a pairing as you can ask for. Check it out here:

Lastly comes the return of the Bowerbirds, who have been missing for eight years (their 2012 album The Clearing was the last we’d heard from them). They’re back unexpectedly with two new songs this week, the best of which is this one, “Endless Chase.” It’s the same recipe as before, warm, folksy vibe riding along on frontman Phil Moore’s voice — it’s a welcome return. Hopefully there’s a full album in store soon.  In the meantime, enjoy this one:

Hang in, hang back… –BS

Posted on

X Marks the Spot: Unearthed Surprises

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):

Stay safe, amici… –BS