Tag: #thomyorke

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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

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A Sunday Six-Pack: Solo Cups and Screams

With the temperature finally cooling off and giving us a brief preview of fall, thought it was appropriate to pop in and heat things up a little with some recent finds.  First comes the latest single from Alabama Shakes frontwoman Brittany Howard’s upcoming solo debut, Jaime. I had a chance to see her perform the album in its entirety a week or so ago and despite the undeniable presence (and skill) Howard has on stage, it still left me a little underwhelmed.  Hewing more towards the R&B side of things that the last Shakes album sported (which landed at #2 on that year’s 2015 list) instead of the more vintage soul sounds of their debut, the songs just didn’t resonate as strongly despite Howard’s energy and effort.  Which is not to say the songs are bad — if R&B is your thing I think you’ll actually quite like them as they’re honest, well-crafted tunes — it just doesn’t grab me the same way those Stax style songs do.  It’s the equivalent of Michael Jordan’s baseball era — you know he’s talented enough to not embarrass himself, hope he’s happy and succeeds, but simultaneously wish he’d just hurry up and go back to playing basketball because he’s so singularly talented at that.  Same goes for Brittany — her titanic, emotive voice is just so well suited for those crackling, retro soul sounds it’s a shame to see it dedicated to anything else.  Regardless, I’m glad musicians like her are out there — we’re better off for it.  Until she rejoins with the Shakes, here’s one of those vintage sounding gems from her upcoming debut, “Stay High:”

We’ll follow with another retro sounding song, this one from a fellow frontman on hiatus from his former group (probably permanently in this case, sadly), Liam Gallagher of Oasis fame.  Gallagher is priming the release of his second solo album, Why Me? Why Not. (due 20 Sept) and has released several singles to this point (I posted one of them here a few weeks back).  So far they’ve been solid, in line with the songs from his debut, which landed at #11 on the 2017 list here. This one’s got a bit of a gospel vibe with the backup singers sounding like Sunday service at the end.  (It also allegedly has Yeah Yeah Yeahs guitarist Nick Zinner on it, but you’d never know if they didn’t tell you — gone like Oasis is the fiery, noisy guitarist I fell in love with in that band’s early years, apparently.)  It’s a good follow on to Brittany’s feel good vibe — give “One of Us” a whirl here:

Next we’ll changes gears, but just slightly — we’ll shift from the sunny Sunday vibe to a more melancholic tone, but stay with the theme of singularly voiced singers on solo missions, this time from Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke. Having already released his soundtrack to the movie Anima earlier this year, Thom keeps up his cinematic sprint offering a song for Ed Norton’s upcoming Motherless Brooklyn.  As with most that he records there’s a somber sadness to it (if Brittany’s voice is synonymous with the sun, Thom’s is definitely the rain), but also an aching beauty that draws you in. It’s a powerful spell, just that voice and a piano.  (Chili Peppers bassist Flea also allegedly plays on the track, but either someone turned his amp off or he’s playing the trumpet.)  Similar to Brittany we’ve thankfully got no indications Thom is not planning on returning to his primary gig soon, this being one of the many side projects he nips off to in between that legendary band’s outings, so enjoy this in the meantime. Check out “Daily Battles” here:

We’ll veer into more aggressive territory now (us sadly being on the cusp of another rewarding work week), first with a track from Pusha T.  This one was allegedly recorded at the same time as his Daytona album in that flurry of five EPs in five weeks that he, Kanye, Nas, and others made last summer in Wyoming.  The stark beat is reminiscent of “Numbers on the Board” (never a bad thing) with Pusha extolling the virtues of his lady as only he can. (It also sports a couple grin inducing moments regarding charcuterie and his impression of the beat.) He may not burn quite as bright as he once did (the cocaine and Chanel raps have grown a little tired for me), but he’s still got some fire in him — give “Sociopath” a ride here:

Next we’ll meander over to the UK again and the gritty sounding IDLES, who I posted about a couple weeks ago here. On the heels of their nomination for the 2019 Mercury Prize I went back to their album to see if maybe I’d missed the bus, but I still don’t think it merits all the praise.  There are a couple of good tracks, similar to their debut, but other times they veer towards typical punky excess — noise and yelling at the expense of melody.  When everything’s in sync, though, these guys can pack a wallop.  None moreso than on the aptly titled “Colossus,” which is the sonic equivalent of that titular entity pounding you into paste.  This is the band channeling my beloved Jesus Lizard and absolutely nailing it — menacing bass and guitar building to a furious explosion, with frontman Joe Talbot loudly shouting lyrics that don’t make a ton of sense on the surface but nonetheless satisfy (“fuuuull ooooooof PIIIIIIIIIINS!”) It’s even got a creepy video to boot — what’s not to love!  Turn it up (way up) and see what’s in store:

We’ll close with the return that broke the internet this week — first just for appearing and then for not meeting what seem to be the insanely high standards of its fans — the return of Tool and their album Fear Inoculum. It’s the band’s first in 13 years, and despite being close to 90 minutes long folks seem really unhappy with the results.  Sure, of the 10 tracks there’s only six actual songs (the remainder are ambient instrumentals and a five minute drum solo — not kidding), but each of those stretches on for over ten minutes (“7empest” is barking on 16′ long). And while frontman Maynard James Keenan’s lyrics undeniably veer towards cliched metal tropes at times (there’s talk of warriors and spirits and similar nonsense sprinkled throughout), the band itself — bassist Justin Chancellor, guitarist Adam Jones, and thundering drum god Danny Carey — sound amazing here.  Do the songs meander, perhaps longer than they should?  Maybe. Do they sound more Perfect Circle-y and restrained at times than the fiery roar I prefer from their early years? Sure. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t a lot of really good moments on those six songs — riffs from Jones or Chancellor that make you nod and grin or rhythms from Carey that just decimate your brain.  It’s a little like Lord of the Rings (aside from the warrior/spirit talk) — yes, there’s a shitton of travel and scenes with Sam and Frodo endlessly blathering — but there’s also some reaaaaaally badass battle scenes (and the Balrog!), so on balance comes out ahead.  All in all, a pretty strong album — check out the opening title track (which actually would be a pretty rad soundtrack to a LOTR style battle) here:

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

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Macarons, Stones, and the Kings of the Dirty South

Thought I’d kick off the long weekend by giving the country what it’s clamoring for, three days of rest and more idle thoughts from yours truly. First thing to highlight was the quiet passing of a legend this week, that of the French Frank Sinatra, Charles Aznavour. I stumbled on Aznavour years ago, hearing him playing at some anonymous spot during my travels and immediately falling for his voice, a rich, warm croon that oozed class, charm, and a time long forgotten. Similar to Sinatra in all those regards, he was equally prolific, releasing dozens of albums over his decades long career.

He sang predominantly in French, but also recorded songs in Italian, German, and Spanish, and while I often have no idea what he’s saying, as I wrote last week regarding the Lizard, that really doesn’t matter. (The one and only time Aznavour has ever been compared to Jesus Lizard in his 65 year career.) You sense what he’s after and feel the emotion in the music, which is often as (if not more) powerful as understanding the words. There’s loads to like (his 40 Chansons d’Or album is a good starting point), but one of my favorites has always been “A Ma Fille,” which is like a time capsule to another era. Luxuriant, lovely, and instantly familiar, it draws you in like a warm bowl of your grandma (or meme’s, in this case) stew. Give it a listen here:

Next comes another pair of anniversary albums, reminding me (yet again) I am O.A.F. (and also that I’ve got pretty good taste). First up is an article from Stereogum on the 20th anniversary of beloved Queens of the Stone Age’s self-titled debut, which does a good job recounting how the band formed from the wreckage of frontman Josh Homme’s outfit of sludge rocking outlaws, Kyuss. Similar to that band, early era Queens was a family affair, a rotating roundhouse of members and kicks to the head, centered as always around the red-headed wrecking ball Homme. And while the band has continuously evolved in the intervening years, sometimes in directions that make you long a little for the grit and grime of their earlier efforts, the core elements have remained the same throughout — killer riffs, bludgeoning drums, and an irresistible groove (either to make you dance as on their last album, or to make you rock out as on most others.)

As the article notes, this album remains their most unadulterated — they hadn’t yet added Oliveri’s insanity or Hannegan’s grime (or Grohl’s, and subsequently Jon Theodore’s, demolition derby on drums) — but it shows how powerful those core elements are, still hitting hard 20 years later. I remember sitting in my basement, teaching myself how to play this thing front to back, yowling along in embarrassing “unison” and wishing I could capture a fraction of Homme’s cool. (20 years later that’s still got me like Godot…) Several setlist staples remain from this one — “If Only” and “Mexicola” are perennial favorites, but “You Can’t Quit Me Baby” remains the purest distillation of why this band rules. The slinking, slightly ominous bass line, the building groove of the drums, Homme’s inviting croon, all leading to an eruption at the end that’ll leave you panting and breathless once the dust has settled. It’s vintage Queens, a trick they’ve replicated dozens of times over the years (most recently/satisfyingly on the last album’s “The Evil has Landed”), but it never gets old. Crank this one to 11 and rock out to one of the originals…

Last up is another Stereogum retrospective, this one for the 20th anniversary of Outkast’s classic Aquemini, which as the article recounts is the fulcrum between the classic gangsta lean so wickedly deployed on their first two albums and the weirder, more experimental sounds of their later albums. This one blends both quite well, and at 16 songs, nearly an hour and fifteen minutes long, gives you a lot to enjoy. There’s the more classic sounding “Return of the G,” “Skew it on the Bar-B,” and title track right alongside funkier, stranger songs like “Synthesizer,” “Liberation,” and “Chonkyfire.” And then there’s the monster single “Rosa Parks,” which blends both and somewhat inexplicably was a runaway hit. (Besides the harmonica solo you’d think the cartoonish “BOINK!” that forms the backbone of the beat would be enough to turn people away — and yet this song remains an eminently quotable favorite for folks young and old.)

The article does a good job advocating for the importance of this album, and going back to listen to it it holds up well (“SpottieOttieDopaliscious” is still a sick, sexy little thing), but for my blood the ‘Kast of the first two albums is the one I’ll always love most. I recently watched a documentary on these guys and their producers Organized Noize, and while not a must see affair (note to music documentaries — talking about music in lieu of HEARING said music often isn’t the best way to roll), it was interesting to see the tiny Atlanta house where the Dungeon Family dwelled and hear some stories about the duo cutting their teeth. Case in point was learning that their first single, the permafave “Player’s Ball,” was supposed to be a Christmas song and was released on a compilation CD of other holiday tunes. The guys being who they were, though, thought that was a stupid idea and instead recorded their version of a holiday song, relaying how a bunch of ballers would celebrate while throwing enough allusions to the holiday to appease their label. It’s a great song made all the better by knowing that backdrop, showing both the pair’s creativity and independence. So celebrate the anniversary and give the album another listen, but when you’re done dine on an even older classic and see how many of those references you can catch:

We’ll close with a quickie, the latest single from Thom Yorke’s upcoming Suspiria soundtrack, which I wrote about a few weeks ago. It’s another winner, in line with the previous offering “Suspirium,” slowly slinking along in all its atmospheric glory with Yorke’s lovely voice as its companion. He’s two for two so far, so hopefully he keeps it up (unlike my beloved Cubs who couldn’t hit a baseball if it was the size of a weather balloon lately and thus are done for the year). We’ll find out shortly — in the meantime, give “Has Ended” a listen here:

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Embrace the Whirlwind: Random Offerings from the Windy Shores

It’s been a wild couple of weeks — I successfully survived a weekend in New Jersey (although DID nearly die in a creek in the woods) and another in South Carolina (my kidnappers missed the hurricane by a week or so — NICE try, suckers), spending the remaining time stuck at the office dealing with one crisis after another. Thankfully there were a few musical items of note caught in the nanoseconds available between sleep and work, so in the spirit of the typhoons and hurricanes pummeling various parts of the planet right now, here’s a swirl of songs to sample this Sunday.

First up comes from eighties icons Echo and the Bunnymen who are releasing an album reinterpreting their biggest hits in a couple weeks. It’s an interesting concept — it’s something bands like this naturally do when you see them live. If you’ve got to play the same songs for decades, you inevitably are going to change elements up as you go along so you don’t go insane — but it’s rare to put those changes down officially. It’s the difference between a rub-on tattoo and a sleeve — one’s nice to try on for a while, sorta spice up the day a little, but the other’s a much more lasting commitment. Always the outsiders, the lads are opting for the ink and permanently putting down the products of their playtime, along with a couple new tunes to boot. I’ve heard a couple of the re-envisioned tunes so far and they’re not bad, but odds are I’ll stay with the originals after this much time (no offense, guys). The first original song I’ve heard is pretty good, conjuring the same sweeping feel the band is known for — check out “The Somnambulist” here:

Next comes a lovely cover of Richard Swift’s “Most of What I Know” by Death Cab’s Ben Gibbard. As the faithful eight of you know, Swift recently passed away unexpectedly and a slew of musicians have paid tribute to him in the intervening weeks, including Hamilton Leithauser, Dan Auerbach, and the War on Drugs. Add Gibbard to the list, who took time from promoting his band’s latest album (the pleasant, yet underwhelming Thank You for Today) to perform his tribute, a poignant pick as the refrain of “your love will keep my heart alive” seems apropos. Give it a listen here (and check out Swift’s The Atlantic Ocean for another lovely Sunday spin):

Last up from the softer side of the aisle comes the first single from Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke’s score for the upcoming horror film Suspiria, a remake of the 70s cult classic of the same name. It might seem an odd choice at first — both the movie and who’s soundtracking it — but when you remember Hollywood has no new ideas and just re-purposes every good (and mediocre) idea from previous generations, and that Yorke almost willfully picks projects seemingly intent on alienating his legions of followers (of which I am one), then it makes perfect sense. So I considered it a victory when I heard this first offering and it wasn’t six minutes of robots bleeping and blooping or chainsaws distorted alongside drum machine sounds — there actually were words and a pretty melody. It’s a minor miracle! We’ll see how the rest of the songs sound, but this one’s a winner — just Yorke’s lovely voice atop a delicate piano. Check out “Suspirium” here:

Now it’s time for a walk on the wild side, first with the skatepunks of FIDLAR, who despite being known for hilarious, catchy songs about drugs, drinking, and partying (as written about here before), are back with a pointed swipe at our current situation. Taking a swing at the government, politicians on the left and right, and our obsession with our phones and technology, it’s a surprisingly mature song from the California kids. (Their biggest hit — the fantastic “Cocaine” — sported Ron Swanson running around w/ a boner peeing on things, after all.) It’s a promising step forward, and has a pretty sweet little riff riding along throughout, too, which makes this a double win. See what you think (and watch the Swanson video from my old post for another flavor) here:

Speaking of Kanye (whether you followed that link or not, someone’s ALWAYS talkin’ ’bout ‘Ye so is not a non sequitur), he popped up again this week, thankfully for his music and not for some fool fucking thing he said about Chump (again). This time it’s for a song/video that debuted during the Pornhub awards (which, apparently is a thing? What are the categories — “most convincing groan” and “most creative use of an orifice?”) and it keeps with Kanye’s trend of late of dropping tracks that seem like throwaway thoughts in need of a little polish. As seen on his recent spate of five EPs (NOT albums) in five weeks, sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t, and appropriately this song falls in both camps. The meat of the song, the line “you’re such a fucking ho — I love it” is both stupid and tin-eared in the #metoo era (or just generally if you’re not into the whole “demeaning women” thing), and Lil Pump’s opening verse is similarly weak (though apparently he’s got quite the SoundCloud following, so what do I know). But then Kanye comes in, and despite not dropping any signature lines (four of his first ones are identical), something about his verse gets stuck in your head. (WOOP!) And the video, which looks like an homage to the Talking Heads and Minecraft, is visually interesting, too. So while only two minutes long, built around an idiotic/misogynistic line, and debuting at a porn gala — somehow I can’t get it out of my head. See what it does for you here:

We’ll close with the kings, hometown juggernaut punks The Jesus Lizard, who I miraculously got to catch again last week, which would have been memorable enough after ten years not touring, but the fact that I got to see them in my favorite venue in town, the Cat, made it even better. That the band played nearly thirty songs and sounded incredible, starting with frontman David Yow leaping into the crowd from the opening song and closing with a double encore, made it hands down the best thing I’ve seen this year (and rivals the first time I saw em ten years ago). These guys aren’t for everyone — wifey hates them and I understand why they’re not everyone’s cup of tea — they are loud, heavy, and often involve Yow screaming unintelligibly at the top of his lungs, but they are a force of nature and one of my absolute favorites.

They’re a perfect representation of the principle of the gestalt, a band where every member brings something so singular to the table that when you combine them as one, it’s absolutely devastating. Few bands can say that — another that immediately springs to mind is Sleater-Kinney (who wifey also hates) — but when it happens it’s undeniable. For the Lizard, it’s a potent mixture of Yow’s primal screams (and insane energy live), Duane Denison’s buzzsaw guitars, David Sims’ thundering bass, and Mac McNeilly’s Animalesque smashing of the cans that almost literally bowls you over. There’s nothing like these guys — most punk bands can nail the noise or energy to get you whipped into a frenzy, but do so at the expense of actual melody — something you can grab onto and get stuck in your head, bringing you back for more. It’s the difference between a sportfuck and a relationship — one’s good for three to five minutes of sweaty chaos (or hours, if you’re young/Sting), the other keeps you satisfied for years.

That’s how it is with these guys — they’re sledgehammer heavy, don’t worry about that — but the stuff Denison and Sims (or both) throw out there actually has melody. Whether it’s the guitar riff from “Boilermaker” or the bass line from “Blue Shot.” Or from “Glamorous” and “Monkey Trick.” Or umpteen others. It sounds like music — you can hum it, it’s catchy, you could play a snippet and the Jeopardy! answer would be “What is a song, Alex?” instead of the pointless screaming and shredding of so many other punk/metal bands. These guys are actual musicians — that they’re also loud/heavy AF makes it even better. So while I understand why some of you won’t like em, they have a special place in my heart — ever since I discovered em ten-odd years ago at fan’s night back home, where the audience picked the setlist and I was duly blown away (coincidentally ALSO the night I discovered similarly beloved Built to Spill, so despite being well on my way to a busted engagement at that point and spending the trip there/back in total silence is still a night I look back on as one of the best), these guys always amaze.

Looking up and down the setlist I can’t get over how many good songs they’ve got (and honestly can’t think of m/any they missed), but if I had to pick one to start you out, I think it’s best to go with what they used the other night — with a punch in the “Puss” from the get go. If you don’t like this, you probably won’t like anything else, but if you survive the first salvo you’ve got a bunch more winners to work through. Give it a try and see if it sends you into the crowd like Yow — I’ll GET. YOU. SOMETHING TO STOP. THE BLEEEEEEEEEEEDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!: