Walk Across the Welcome Mat: Many Happy Returns

We’re in strange new territory here — the government remains closed for longer than it ever has before, and I’m older and mangier than I’ve ever been before.  No coincidence those get commemorated on the same day — if ever there was a corollary to the constant disappointment, stupidity, and ineptitude in DC, it’s me. And so on this esteemed day in history I wanted to do my part to give fellow furloughers something to celebrate in the form of good music.

It’s been a pretty bountiful first couple weeks to the new year — maybe a positive sign this year is going to break from the bludgeoning slog of the past few? (I wouldn’t be Sunshine if I didn’t foolishly think so!) — and there are seven things worth flagging for folks so far.  First up comes a pair of singles from the Raconteurs’ return, Jack White’s first super side project featuring solo songman Brendan Benson and Jack Lawrence/Patrick Keeler from the Greenhornes. We haven’t seen the band for a decade, as White has spent his time recording crummy solo records and generally growing more cantankerous/crazy on his ranch outside Nashville.

Similar to another formerly-beloved frontman whose previously unimpeachable taste and talent has largely disappeared in recent years, Billy Corgan, White also seems to misunderstand what made him great.  I caught him last summer when he was touring his most recent material and ended up leaving early — “I used to have a girl drummer so if I have a girl drummer and play old songs people will think it’s amazing! I also used to rip off tight, glorious little guitar solos and people would lose their minds so if I do lots of them — and longer! — then that’s even BETTER!” Instead it was a pale, vainglorious reminder of past glory, like trying to fit into your high school clothes as if two or three decades hadn’t passed. As with Corgan it’s frustrating to see someone you enjoyed so much fall so short of that mark now.  Maybe this reunion is what White needs to get back on track, though, as the first two singles — “Sunday Driver” and “Now That You’re Gone” — are promising starts.  The latter has White tossing out bright little licks to balance Benson’s vocals while the former has White front and center, shouting lyrics into the mic atop a beefy guitar riff.  We’ll see how the rest turns out — the band always fell into the solid, not stellar category for me before, but I’ll take a little more solid and reliable these days.  See what you think:

Next comes the return of another act who ghosted the past decade, Seattle solo man David Bazan — better known as Pedro the Lion — who hasn’t shown up wearing that moniker since 2004.  Bazan is known for his warm voice and intimate lyrics, often about love/relationships, and his debut It’s Hard to Find a Friend remains a well-loved favorite. (Check out tracks like “Big Trucks,” “Bad Diary Days,” and “Of Minor Prophets and their Prostitute Wives” to see why.) Bazan’s spent the intervening years rattling off a string of solo albums (seven by my count), but decided to return to Pedro last year, playing a few shows to test the waters and ultimately recording a new album (the appropriately named Phoenix, which will be released next week — 18 Jan).  He’s released three singles so far — “Yellow Bike,” “Model Homes,” and my favorite, “Quietest Friend,” which is a lovely tune in line with those from his twenty-years-gone debut. Hopefully the rest of the return lives up to these.  Give the latter a listen here:

Up next comes the latest single from UK outfit UNKLE, which used to fuse hip hop and electronic elements in thrilling, unique fashion on its early outings (their 1998 debut Psyence Fiction remains a classic) before shifting to a more eclectic mix in recent years (2010’s Where Did the Night Fall landed at number nine on that year’s list). Their last album was a disappointment (2017’s The Road, Vol. 1, which was a down-tempo, overly theatrical slog), but the first cut from the upcoming album (The Road: Part II/Lost Highway, due out 29 Mar) sounds like a return to their early days.  Sporting an Al Green sample and a shuffling trip hop beat that’s tough to ignore, the song calls to mind fellow British legends Massive Attack in both mood and delivery.  (Which is almost never a bad thing…) The album looks like a long one with 16 songs on the track listing (minus tiny little interludes), so hopefully the remainder fall more in line with this one.  Check it out in the meantime here:

Last of the listens comes from Rob Sonic’s latest album, Defriender, which snuck in silently at the end of the year and almost went unnoticed — by everyone except my new bestie Numu, I should say, which is the unblinking eye of Sauron and SHALL not be defeated! (Seriously, everyone should download this app — it catches everything!) It’s his first since 2014’s outstanding double feature where he dropped his third solo album, Alice in Thunderdome, as well as the second chapter of his equally excellent partnership with Aesop Rock in Hail Mary Mallon, which dropped Bestiary. Unfortunately this one’s a letdown compared to those two — Sonic’s lyrics are still sharp as ever, but the beats are uncharacteristically weak this time around.  Except on this one, “Air D&D,” which is a vintage cut I’ve listened to a bunch.  Maybe the album will grow on me — in the meantime crank this one, which besides the throbbing Prodigy-style beat opens with the line I want to start most conversations with these days:

We’ll close with some worthwhile reading material, each a retrospective on a classic album or band that are worth revisiting.  First comes this article from Pitchfork on the Buzzcocks’ Singles Going Steady, which marked the end of the band’s brief reign and remains a much-loved classic. The article does a good job charting the band’s rise and its place in punk’s pantheon (as well as its importance overall) and it — like the album — is a good entree for the uninitiated.  I had the good fortune of catching these guys a few years ago at Riot Fest and it was a treat, as I was too young to catch them in their prime.  They still put on a good show all these years later, so pop this one on Spotify and give it a read.

Next comes a look back on the Flight of the Conchords — the THIRD thing on this list making a return after nearly a decade away (what’s next, my chronic acne and inability to talk to women?) — by the folks at Vice.  The duo recently popped up on Colbert with a new song (the characteristically funny “Father and Son”) and did a full reunion special in London late last year that’s showing on HBO and quite good.  The article recaps the band’s hey day, while also lamenting its departure (as paralleled in “The Bus Driver Song,” which he uses as a centerpiece for the conversation). It’s a good read and reminder of how funny these guys were — for me, I often think of the hair helmet and crack up and wish I could take attendance at meetings because of these guys. Definitely worth watching the special, too.

Last comes this retrospective from Rolling Stone on the Band, Dylan’s former backing band that became a full on force in its own right later on.  I quibble a bit with some of the rankings (whether Levon Helm hated it or not, The Last Waltz is an absolute gem and the best introduction to their songs), but it does a nice job giving some history and context for each of the albums (and the band’s often tumultuous state at the time).  Definitely a band worth knowing — songs like “Up on Cripple Creek” and “The Weight” are timeless, and “The Night they Drove Old Dixie Down” and “Ophelia” (among countless others) ain’t too bad either.  Give it a read — and definitely track down The Last Waltz if you’ve never seen it before. It’s an epic close to a band and an era.

Until next time, my friends… –BS

I Predict a Riot (Fest)

I’ve had a week to process the bounty of delights experienced back home at Riot Fest and wanted to stop in and share (just in case I erase them in a few hours at the big beer festival).  I’d been excited about this weekend for months since barring one or two omissions, the lineup had most of my absolute favorite bands on it, so was super jacked to go see em all again in the city I love.  And despite being hot as fuck for September (which is not a good thing for a crowd of punks with an unrestrained love of black clothing and denim) the weekend somehow surpassed even my unrealistically high expectations.

There was the free show the night before the festival (with free beer to boot) to see my beloved Orwells, which was so good it got me in a pit for the first time in probably 15 years and left me soaked in sweat and beer (and happiness).  There was Black Pistol Fire’s furious early afternoon set that nearly blew out my hearing (and my insides) five feet from the stage.  There was the magic of Built to Spill playing their entire classic Keep it Like a Secret and lulling the crowd into a blissed out waking dream.

There were solid sets from old faves that reaffirmed your love (DFA, Gogol, At the Drive In) and better than expected sets from headliners that put caps on already excellent days (instead of being lame and driving you home early like normal festival headliners — NIN, Queens). There was the chance to see vintage acts that peaked before my time whose sets still captured the energy of their early years and made me go back and re-listen to their albums (X, Buzzcocks, GBH). There was the chance to see acts you’d never check out on their own, but you gladly did here (and you came away happy that you had — New Order, even the cartoonish gore of Gwar) and the new discoveries you happily stumble into that’ll generate some winter spins (That Dog., The Smith Street Band).

No discovery was more surprising or powerful than the third night’s headliner, though, Jawbreaker. There was a ton of noise about the festival getting this band back together, playing their first show in 20+ years after an apparently spectacular flameout, which had struck me as curious leading up to the show.  Both the amount of chatter and their getting such a prestigious slot — closing night of the festival with almost no other concurrent acts — seemed strange as I’d somehow never heard of them.   Despite being big in the east coast punk scene and even touring (briefly) with Nirvana, word of these guys never made it to my high school self, so I had no idea what I was missing.

Until Sunday night, that is.  When the big band that never was came onstage and blew away my ignorance with one of the many songs I’ve been obsessing over this week, “Boxcar.” It’s an irresistible little ripper (one so good Green Day basically rewrote it years later) and a great thumb in the eye of the punk purists who had turned their back on the band once they signed to a major label. (“You’re not punk, and I’m tellin’ everyone — save your breath man I never was one…1-2-3-4 who’s punk, what’s the score?”) And the band didn’t let up from there — other tracks instantly jumped out during the set: “The Boat Dreams From the Hill;” “Save Your Generation;” “Sluttering (May 4th);” “Accident Prone;” “Jet Black.”  Others were found on repeated listens throughout the week: “Want;” “Chesterfield King;” “Tour Song;” “Indictment;” “Fireman;” “Lurker II: Dark Son of Night.”  Each of which reinforce the question of “how the fuck had I never heard of these guys?!?”

Frontman Blake Schwarzenbach’s gravelly voice and snarky, lovesick lyrics call to mind early Replacements at times (a band that DID register with young Sunshine and consumed his middle school years), but the band’s rhythm section is what really stood out on Sunday.  Bassist Chris Bauermeister threw down some solid, nimble riffs, while drummer Adam Pfahler absolutely destroyed his fucking kit (literally) by the end of the set.  The band’s shifting time signatures, howling guitar, and bruising lyrics were an infectious counterpoint to the singalong choruses and I was instantly converted. I spent the better part of the week tearing through these guys’ albums in an attempt to make up for lost time and I’m enjoying the heck out of that fool’s errand.  Check em out yourself here, starting with the one that got me from the jump — “Boxcar.”