Tag: #drake

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Insta’ Gratification: Neko and the Flood from the ‘Gram

One of the best albums of the past 20 years celebrated an anniversary a few weeks back, beloved Neko Case’s flawless masterpiece, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, which came out 15 years ago this month.  Easily her best album to date at the time (and honestly, probably still — though Middle Cyclone gives it a solid fight), it built upon the undeniable strengths of those preceding outings — the honky-tonk rambles of The Virginian and Furnace Room Lullaby and the more ethereal, stately blues of Blacklisted (which has possibly my favorite of her songs on it, the devastating beauty “I Wish I Was the Moon.”) Case showcases each of those elements on Confessor, as well as gospel and more straightforward indie songs, for an album that is perfect from top to bottom.

From the moment she got started Case’s one-of-a-kind voice was always the star — able to roar with unbridled ferocity or reduce you to tears with its kneebuckling versatility and beauty. What really came into focus on this album, though, was the strength of Case’s songwriting — songs about love, death, loneliness, and loss play out vividly across the album’s twelve tracks, although the lyrics are rarely as clear as the images they evoke. “Girl with the parking lot eyes” from opener “Margaret vs Pauline.” “My true love died in a dirty old pan of oil” from “Star Witness.” “Your body, limp, beneath my feet, your dusty eyes as cold as clay” from “Maybe Sparrow.”

You can clearly picture each of those things as she sings, yet the circumstances surrounding them aren’t always clear. The songs feel like flickering images from an unknown film where you get glimpses of what’s going on as the door to the theater opens and closes, but never see the entire movie. Images of birds, lions, wolves, and more pop in and out of view, never lingering long enough to tell you the whole story.

What holds it all together is what started it in the first place — that voice. That unbelievable, unparalleled voice. Case sounds amazing on this album, balancing the mystery of those images with the unquestionable emotion she packs into her performance. The anger that simmers beneath the line “everything’s SO easy for Pauline — for PauuuuLIIIIIIIIIIIINE!” at the end of the opener. The naked desperation in her plea, “pleaaaaaaaaaaaaase, don’t let him die” at the close of “Star Witness.” The unflinching confidence when she vows,”I don’t care if forever never comes cause I’m holding out for that teenage feeling.” The full-throated anguish over the titular bird in “Maybe Sparrow.” It hits you right in the heart, over and over again no matter how many times you listen, and it doesn’t matter whether you fully understand why — the voice tells you everything you need to know.

It’s again paired with her long-time duet partner Kelly Hogan’s on several of the best songs, reminding us that somehow even something as amazing as Case’s voice can become better. (Like adding bacon to almost anything or throwing a runny egg on top — are you ever sorry they showed up?) The two’s voices are so perfectly paired it’s intoxicating, an effect that’s only enhanced when you hear it in person. I remember seeing them perform this album at my favorite dive here in town and I legitimately was nearly knocked out on my feet — it was like listening to two angels serenade each other and you were just lulled into a dreamlike state of stupor, eyes closed and smiling. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a couple hundred people be so quiet.

It was an amazing show and it — like the album — remains one of my absolute favorites. Do yourself a favor and check it out, if for some reason you haven’t already.  I could pick any of the aforementioned songs to get you started, but I think my favorite is probably “At Last.” Short, sweet, and by the time the shimmering guitar comes in at the end you’re swooning — just lovely. Give it a listen here:

As I’m sure the eight of you are already aware, there’s been a surge in nonsense over on the ‘gram lately, large quantities of it courtesy of yours truly thanks to the dare issued to me recently by the one and only Oddge. Long story short she got tore up on seltzer and corn dogs one night and in the midst of that drunken frenzy she said, “yaknowwha — you’re wasting your time writing, Sunshine. You could post something EVERY SINGLE DAY and no one would notice.” She then whipped her half-filled White Claw at me across the room, kicked over my fern, and stormed out into the night to bark at dogs and passersby.

Tough love, to be sure, but far be it from me to ignore a challenge, so I’ve been doing my best to post something over there every day, offering the people what none of them asked for — more musical selections (and ramblings) from me! I’ve been having some fun with it, posting gems from the grocery store, birthday bashes, and relics from the past, as well as the usual new finds you’d expect to see here. It’s those latter ones I want to memorialize here, in part so I don’t forget them (still don’t love the disappearing stories) and in part so I can add them to the master playlist and have them come up on Sunshine Radio.  (Which I TOTALLY know more than just me uses — totally…)

I won’t rehash what I said over there (since I ALSO know all of you have already seen them before!), but if you feel like rewatching/listening, here’s your chance to dive back in! Until next time, my friends…

–BS

    • Watch the outstanding Netflix documentary on Latin American rock, Break it All. It showcases a ton of my faves, including the Argentine giants Soda Stereo:

    • Brit band Sports Team are definitely worth a listen, sounding like “a fun, hooky mix of Franz and the Strokes:”

    • Fellow Chicagoan Andrew Bird dropped a solid new album with his old Squirrel Nut Zippers pal Jimbo Mathus that’s a good listen:

    • Old-time faves The Band just released an expanded version of their Stage Fright album for its 50th anniversary and this one’s been a revived favorite:

    • Aussie act Amyl and the Sniffers released this ripshit rocker that’s been on repeat for much of the past few weeks:

    • Love em or hate em Kings of Leon are back with a new album and this is one of its better tracks:

    • Toronto titan Drake dropped a three song EP that has this solid collab with Lil Baby:

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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

 

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Terrible Human Beings –Rightfully Ignored or Wrongly Exiled?

After another fun week of service and subsequent spiritual satisfaction, wanted to revisit the topic of a post from a few weeks ago, that of my beloved Orwells’ quietly dropping a new album, and what the right response is in light of the serious allegations against three-fifths of the band. The reasons for revisiting are twofold — 1) it’s a good album, one I’ve listened to dozens of times since that post, including this morning when I woke up with its “Silver Medal” in my head. (That one’s opening lines — “Not a fan of making up this time, got a lack of training. Go ahead and keep me out of mind, no one hears what you’re saying” — sports a clever homonym possibly referring to the broader allegations, indicating “no one here’s what you’re saying.”) That one’s almost beside the point, though — good, bad, love it, hate it, those feelings are almost irrelevant because of 2) the double standard regarding how we handle these artists and situations, as we partly discussed before.

This latter one feeds off the first and reared its head as the weeks passed with me waiting for reviews from the various blogs and magazines. In addition to discussing the music, I hoped they might have additional information on the broader situation to help me figure out the “what’s the right response?” question. Unfortunately, despite over six weeks elapsing I have yet to find a single review on any of the normal outlets — nothing on Allmusic, Pitchfork, or Stereogum — or anywhere else for that matter.  This is the part that I find slightly annoying — the opaque, inconsistently applied criteria for how they (and we as a broader society) handle these things.

It’s almost certainly not attributable to their not knowing about the release — these sites regularly catch such hard breaking news stories as Moby’s new neck tattoo, the Twitter beef between Tool’s Maynard James Keenan and Justin Bieber, and the time David Hasselhoff covered the Jesus and Mary Chain. And those are just some of the ridiculous ones I noted this month — so there has to have been a conscious decision made to not acknowledge and/or review the release, which is where the frustrating double standard comes in.  These sites continue to cover similarly troubled/accused artists — R Kelly, Michael Jackson, and Chris Brown being but three giant examples, each accused, tried, and/or convicted of sexual abuse. (Repeatedly.) And yet they remain acceptable topics to cover and/or play — why?

What’s the line for who gets talked about and who gets shunned?  Allmusic has reviews on each of those artists’ albums, as well as questionable/convicted scumbags of yesteryear (who also happen to be incredibly talented musically).  There’s a lot of them — Ike Turner (beat his wife, the inimitable Tina), James Brown (beat his wives, possible rape), Miles Davis (beat his wives), Elvis (questionable relations with young girls, including his future wife Priscilla who was 14 when she met him (he was 24) and was subsequently left for another 14 year old after the birth of their first child), Chuck Berry (went to prison for sex with a 14 year old), Jerry Lee Lewis (married his 13 year old cousin, attempted murder).  There’s plenty more, but all of these remain “safe” in the eyes of broader society — both to listen to and/or write about.  (Oh they’re also OK to reward with accolades, as all of them have been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, among other honors.)

So why do those artists get the pass while others like the Orwells are exiled and no longer acknowledged? The allegations, amount of evidence behind them, and legal repercussions faced as a result are similar, if not weaker, than most of those examples.  (There’s still no reports of charges being brought or evidence outside of that infamous, partly anonymous Google Doc.) And yet those artists remain in the light while the Orwells have been cast into the darkness, ghosts in an age where virtually everything seems acceptable enough to discuss on the internet.

This is not an attempt to dismiss the charges against the three band members or argue away their awfulness — if true they should all be prosecuted and do time for their crimes.  Nor is it an argument to say the value of the art outweighs (or excuses) the bad behavior. These guys were always a questionable cocktail of dickishness and mischievous — both were invariably in there, you just couldn’t tell quite what the balance was and how much was an act and how much was sincere. (The last time I saw them Mario spit on, and then wiped his ass with, my beloved Chicago flag, for example, which is enough to get pounded for on the best of days.)

This is, however, an argument for clarity and consistency.  I think we need to be clear in what our criteria are for handling these types of things — whether for bands like the Orwells, comedians like Louis CK, actors like Kevin Spacey, or public figures like Joe Biden, Al Franken, and the President (among dozens of others) — and consistent in their application.  All things being similar, if the allegations and evidence are comparable, then so should our response be to the accused. And there should be no question over why — because we’ve made clear what our standards are for handling these types of situations: what’s acceptable, what’s inexcusable, and what’s still in the gray in between.  To not do so creates confusion, a double standard, and an unacceptable acceptance of some people’s wrongdoings.

Alright, enough serious stuff — let’s lighten things a bit with some fresh catches from the previous weeks, first with a brief parody video starring the Black Keys.  It’s a spoof of the online MasterClass series that offers “online courses taught by the world’s greatest minds.” This one has Pat and Dan being deadpan pretentious rock stars and it shows they, like fellow rocker (and guy I’d love to have a beer with) Dave Grohl, have a pretty good sense of humor.  It’s a good palate cleanser from the above — check it out here:

Next we’ll shift to another long time face from this page, that of Austin indie legends Spoon, who recently released an outtake from their 1998 sessions for their second album, A Series of Sneaks. It’s somewhat surprising it didn’t make the cut — it’s in line with their more straightforward, rocking sound of the time and a solid song.  Makes you wonder what other gems they’ve got stashed away.  Check out “Shake it Off” here:

We’ll move to the land of hippity hop for a bit, first with the latest single from the relentlessly productive Drake (he just released a double album, Scorpion, last year).  This time he’s dropping a song for the British show Top Boy that he’s apparently a big fan of. (Season three is airing on Netflix now.) Unlike most of that last album, it’s a solid song — good beat providing a backdrop for Drake to talk about his usual fare of “Rs and Vs and Os” and his endless material vices (Versace, Nobu, Milan, etc).  Substantively might not break any new ground, but still a good listen.  See what’s “Behind Barz” here:

Next we’ll check in with the wildly eccentric (or eccentrically wild?) Danny Brown, whose new album (uknowhatimsayin?, due 4 Oct) is being produced by none other than hip hop legend Q-Tip.  I’ve cooled on Brown a bit since his debut (Old landed at #9 on that year’s list) and the pairing with Tip is curious, but this single does right by both parties, marrying Brown’s manic delivery with a vintage old school sample that easily could’ve landed on a Tribe album.  It’ll be interesting to hear how the rest of the album shapes up — give “Best Life” a try in the meantime:

We’ll end our trip through hiphoplandia with a surprise release, the first single from the legendary Gang Starr in sixteen years (!), which features a new verse from Guru (sadly gone for ten years now (!!) and a guest verse from J Cole, all over another vintage beat from DJ Premier.  Called “Family & Loyalty,” it doesn’t appear to be attached to any specific project (no box set or rarities album upcoming, sadly), but that doesn’t diminish the enjoyment in the slightest.  These guys remain a criminally overlooked outfit (their 1998 album Moment of Truth is but one of many classics in their catalog that I’ve worn out over the years) so it’s a thrill to get something new.  Give it a listen (and dive back into those old albums immediately after) here:

We’ll head back to indieville for our final entries, first a deep cut from the latest Lumineers album, III.  The album is a bit of a departure for the band — it’s the first since the departure of founding member Neyla Pekarek, whose cello and voice featured so prominently (and beautifully) on their first outings, and also the first to delve wholeheartedly into less than lovey dovey matters lyrically.  This one (the band’s third) tells the story of three characters over three song cycles (hence the title) — Gloria, Junior, and Jimmy Sparks — only instead of soaring, sunny songs, this time the tracks deal with things like alcoholism, drug abuse, and gambling addiction.  Still, frontman Wesley Schultz and drummer Jeremiah Fraites weave a lovely web without sounding maudlin or overly morose.  Case in point the closing “Salt and the Sea,” which showcases both the storytelling and songwriting well.  Give it a ride here:

We’ll close the same way we started this section, with a little levity to accompany a new find — this one from hometown heroes Wilco whose new album, Ode to Joy, is due out next week.  We highlighted the lead single, “Love is Everywhere (Beware),” a few weeks ago and the latest, “Everyone Hides,” is another solid outing.  What’s unique is that the video almost outshines the song — I hardly ever watch videos these days (I honestly couldn’t tell you the last one worth remembering), but this one shows a game of hide and seek as the band members comically spread out in my (our) beloved city by the lake.  Take a look here:

Until next time, amici… –BS

 

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Around the World — Canadians, Brits, and a Bunch of Swedes (Plus a Couple of Yanks)

Since I’m home with a sick pup whose recovery plan includes sleeping on my lap in as unbroken a stretch as possible (bathroom breaks and beverage refills be DAMNED!), thought I’d capitalize on the stasis to throw out some songs that got caught in my snatches since last time.  First, in honor of his beloved Toronto Raptors beating the broken down Warriors to win their first NBA title, superfan Drake dropped a couple new tracks last week, the best of which finds him teaming with Rick Ross again on the thumping “Money in the Grave.” Drake’s been prolific yet sporadic the past few years, dropping albums and mixtapes on the regular, which unfortunately are mostly mediocre in quality, minus a few choice hits.  Same principle applies here — “Omerta” is a throwaway, but “Money” lives up to its name, particularly when the big man shows up.  Give it a ride here:

Next, in honor of his upcoming performance at Glastonbury, former Oasis frontman Liam Gallagher dropped a new single from his forthcoming follow-on to As You Were ( a debut that landed at #11 in last year’s rundown here).  Thankfully we didn’t have to travel to the festival to hear it (the thought of camping out at a farm with 100,000 people sweltering in 100 degree heat sounds about as much fun as doing hot yoga naked in front of your entire family). Sonically it’s in line with the songs found on his debut (and not far from those of his former band) — solid guitar riff, ominous bass line, and sturdy rhythm all chugging alongside Gallagher’s ever-stellar voice as it soars into the chorus. (“I’ve been waaaaaiiting so looooooong for you dooooooooown by the rivaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah…”)  It’s a strong song — let’s hope the rest of the album continues the trend when it arrives.  Give “The River (Why Me? Why Not)” a listen in the interim:

Up third is the return of the one thing I (for one) have been most craving lately, with the string of underwhelming releases from beloved bands (the National, Silversuns, Foals, Vampire Weekend, Raconteurs, etc etc etc) — a balls out, unabashed rocker intent on delivering a much-needed kick to the ass of anyone it meets.  No synthesizers, no gimmicky schtick (“Now with LADIES!”), just guitars, energy, and attitude.  And who better to deliver than the notoriously riotous Swedes?  That’s right, the superficially staid and polite purveyors of crisp, clean interior design elements and small, sauced spheres of meat are also home to one of the most raucous, entertaining bands of the last 20 years — Howling Pelle Almqvist and his gang of garage rocking rebels in the Hives.  They’re back just in the nick of time, too, with one hell of little ripper.  It’s the back (front?) half of the “double A-side” release this week (classic Hives swagger there — “we don’t do B-sides — everything we do is an A!”) and the better of the two by far, hearkening back to their glory days of Veni Vidi Vicious and Tyrannosaurus Hives.  Howlin’ Pelle may say he’s “not the answer to your problems,” but you sure could fool me — if more of this is in store we just might have found the antidote we so desperately need.

Last up is a new discovery, one I stumbled on in my endless hunt through blogs and new release piles to find something to get excited about (see the aforementioned malaise from established acts and the unspoken dearth of good tunes from newbies (despite their rabid fanbases and elevated chart positions)).  The name and cover were enough to draw me in and the music was good enough to keep me — a mix of Sergio Leone style guitar riffs and Al Green style soul from two dudes down in Austin.  Said gentlemen are producer Adrian Quesada and singer/songwriter Eric Burton who linked up last year and recorded their debut after a run of well-received live performances deep in the heart of Texas.  It’s a really solid affair — laid back vibes riding along on the back of Burton’s silky voice with riffs that would sound at home in any retro rap song (or those Leone westerns).  It’s perfect for a lazy Sunday — give “Fire” a ride here:

We’ll close with a couple readers to round things out — first, this one from Pitchfork on Neutral Milk Hotel’s debut album, On Avery Island. The follow-on is the one that garners all the praise and is described as a modern classic (rightfully so), but this makes a compelling case for the debut.  Worth a read and revisit.

Next comes an interview in Entertainment Weekly with Black Keys frontman Dan Auerbach on the long-awaited return of that band this week and the inspirations behind the new album.  There’s some interesting inclusions in there — Vice Principals, as well as the Stooges and ZZ Top — that are worth checking out. We’ll see how the new album goes down and whether those are notable influences or not (early returns are ok — album sounds good, if not the barn-burning return I so desire (or is indicated might be forthcoming based on the title)).

Last comes a Stereogum interview with Spoon frontman Britt Daniel where he talks through some of the band’s biggest hits in anticipation of their upcoming greatest hits album.  (A phrase they, like me, likely never thought they’d hear anyone say.) It’s an interesting retrospective — the album goes all the way back to Girls Can Tell (probably still my favorite album of theirs), covering everything in between (but not their first two) — and hits a lot of the high notes. (I still might need to do a “One You Should Know” post/playlist for em soon because there’s a lot that’s left out…) It includes one new song, too, the track “No Bullets Spent,” which is a good cut — give it a listen here while you wait for that “OYSK:”

That’s all for now, my friends… — BS

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Cool Breeze — A Springtime Sampler

It’s been slim pickings lately musically — not a lot of new releases after the glut from the holidays and not much in the way of shows, either. Seems like everyone’s still in hibernation, waiting for the cold to finally break and spring to finally show its face. Not that I can complain much — between the puppy and the new gig I haven’t had much in the way of free time, instead passing the hours trying to teach an animal to sit, stay, and remember his name and an office to automate, replicate, and fight at scale. Both efforts have been slow, but making progress, so thought I’d slip away to highlight a few choice items that’ve soundtracked the march to the future. First, it’s the latest from Run the Jewels who recently completed their tour with Lorde and continue their flawless run of releases. This one’s a product of that former pairing with El remixing one of Lorde’s new tracks (“Supercut”) and stamping the pistol and fist on it with a couple solid verses. It works well, marrying the cool, slightly haunting vibe of the melody/Lorde’s voice with Mike and El’s characteristic heat. Check it out here:

Next marks the return of Drake with a couple upbeat releases, and thankfully it’s fun, upbeat Drake, not the mopey, melancholic incarnation we’ve been getting so much of lately. He recently showed up on a remix of N.E.R.D.’s track “Lemon,” which was a catchy little earworm sporting a solid opening verse from Drake and a smoking, swaggering one from Ri. Thankfully he keeps the fire going on his latest release, which notes in the opening line that he knows shorty doesn’t want no slow song. Far be it for Drake to leave a lady disappointed, so he gives the girls what they asked for, three and a half minutes of fun. It’s a welcome return, with a bouncy Lauryn Hill sample to boot, so click play and have a little fun.

Lastly, it was 4/20 yesterday so naturally the LA punks from FIDLAR decided to show up and release a new song. For a band who so gleefully sings about drinking and drugs in their many forms and incantations, they haven’t strayed far from the mold here — but as a fan of those previous offerings, there’s something to be said about the simple pleasures of songs about life’s simple pleasures. This, like the rest of their material, isn’t going to win any awards for lyrical complexity and depth (or the approval of many parents and medical professionals), but it’s fun, catchy, and fits in flawlessly with the rest of their work. So turn off your critical thinking, crack a cold one, and crank up the volume with the kids from California:

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Actually, since it’s playoff hockey season (the greatest of all postseason sports, whether my Hawks are there or not) we’ll sneak one more in before the final buzzer. I caught this article on Stereogum this morning on the 20th anniversary of Massive Attack’s classic third album Mezzanine (exhibit #6767 I am OAF) that is worth a read. It does a good job talking not only about the importance of the album based on the quality of the songs (and as good as Blue Lines was, loaded with some absolute monsters like “Unfinished Sympathy,” this one’s hands down my favorite), but also that intangible quality it has, which is at turns foreboding, mysterious, dangerous, and sensuous — often all at the same time. And it’s that quality that really sets the album apart — the article talks about how often it’s been used in TV and film because of how instantly it calls those emotions to mind, and it does the same for me despite 20 years of heavy listening.

It still reminds me of being a twenty-something kid in Chicago, listening to the album obsessively in a way I never listened to their other albums (and still don’t), and one of my favorite things was to get the DJ at the Artful Dodger (one of my long-gone, but never forgotten favorite dives) to play “Inertia Creeps” as the final song of the evening as everyone closed out their tabs and decided where the rest of the night would take them. It’s by far my favorite song on the album (and a top contender for my favorite overall) and I loved watching how the room would respond. It’s an amazing track — part sinister, part sexual, a little cold, a little hot — it’s impossible to get a hold of, and that was the magic of seeing it spread through the room like a fog. Some folks would keep dancing, connecting with the sultrier undertones, some would look around uneasily, sensing the menace, others would just close their eyes and enjoy the song, excellent as it is. It was one of my favorite ways to end the evening (as this was still part of the decades-long span where females found me as interesting as spring training reports and tube socks) and I think of it every time I hear this song. So pop it on and see what it does for you — until next time, amici.. –BS