…And On — Six More Weeks of Winter

Like Punxsutawney Phil (or the furry groundhog asleep on my lap now in his spastic explorations of the couch each night) I’ve been burrowed deep in my hole since you last saw me, hoping for a reprieve from all the cold and nonsense swirling at the surface.  And while Phil seems to think it’s going to end soon, I’m not as convinced thanks to several spontaneous home repairs, interpersonal spats (fuck you, Socks, I’m still angry), and that never-fallow font of fabulousness, work, recently.  Hopefully that hibernating hero is right, though, and we can find our way into brighter, warmer times soon.  In the meantime, here’s some things that’ve caught my eye since the annual year-end post.

First, we’ll stay in Phil’s realm to catch the latest from the legendary electro outfit bearing its name, Underworld, and the first of two treasure troves from the land of our former masters. This one captures an entire year’s worth of work from the duo and its ambitious Drift project where they aimed to record and release a new song every week last year.  The Raveonettes tried something similar back in 2016, releasing a new song every month (compiled in the mostly ok Atomized), but doing so every week definitely represents a level up difficulty-wise.  And while they may not have hit their initial goal (there’s “only” 40 songs and alternate mixes packaged in the release), what’s impressive is both how close they came and how good the overwhelming majority of the songs are.

Well over half of them are really solid, from the opening “Another Silent Way” and “Dexters Chalk” to later cuts like “Universe of Can When Back,” “Soniamode,” “Appleshine (All of the Lights),” and “STAR.” I’d dipped in and out of this project over the course of the year and kept meaning to write about it, but its inherently ephemeral nature (new shiny object each week!) meant I never spent as much time with the material and the topic always got forgotten in the flurry of the norm.  Now that it’s packaged in one place, though, you’re immediately able to appreciate both the size of the effort and the quality of its results.  The pair have always oozed sensuality — from Rick Smith and/or Darren Emerson’s languid beats and musical influences to Karl Hyde’s voice and colorful, cryptic lyrics — it’s why they are synonymous with the dark, be it of the club, the bedroom, or the car you’re using to drive in between.  They do nothing to change that linkage here, giving us close to six hours’ worth of work to explore here, and it’s definitely worth the effort. (“Mile Bush Wide” can almost bring you to completion in a scant 90 seconds.)

The pair are doing a rare and extremely limited tour of North America this summer, which might be worth a roadtrip to catch a peek of the human versions of Phil.  I was out with forty percent of my readership when this came up last night and they informed me  a broader playlist of the duo’s work would be helpful — primarily because none of them had heard of the duo (they also hadn’t seen Trainspotting, with its classic use of the group, which is a double dagger) — but that’s an injustice I’ll seek to correct in a future post. In the meantime, give a listen to some of the choicer cuts from Drift below and get ready to bliss out.

The other bounty of riches from our friends in the UK comes from the perennially persnickety lads of Radiohead who recently announced the launch of the Radiohead Public Library, which is an amazing compilation of rare tracks, live performances, photos, and merchandise dating all the way back to the band’s formation. Essentially the band has curated the best of everything they’ve done, sifting through the oceans of poor quality copies and nonsense available on the interwebs, and given us high quality versions all in one place here. It’s pretty amazing — there’s full festival shows never publicly available, copies of the beloved “From the Basement” DVDs showing how the band meticulously assembles their songs, shirts and merchandise that hasn’t been available for 15-20 years — all sorted by the album the band had recorded at the time.

There are hours upon hours’ worth of goodness here — I’ve particularly been enjoying the numerous live performances, which aside from full concert sets also include the band’s TV performances, including this Limbs-era one on the Colbert Report I’d forgotten about. (I remember seeing it at the time, but didn’t realize they’d played 3 or 4 unaired songs too.) Similar to their aforementioned countrymen of the underground, it’s a testament to both how much work the band has done over the years, as well as how good it almost all is — so hop in your time machine and start your surfing now!

We’ll stay on the island for one more offering, this one the latest from Gorillaz, Damon Albarn’s hit or miss cartoon collective, which is gearing back into action after a couple of years of quiet.  Similar to Underworld’s Drift, it sounds like the band plans to release a series of “episodes” over the course of the year as part of its Song Machine project, with each episode detailing the fruits of a new collaboration.  First up is Albarn’s pairing with rapper slowthai on the song “Momentary Bliss.” It’s a pretty solid outing — I’ve cooled on these guys a ton since their magic self-titled debut in 2001, but Albarn always stumbles on a couple interesting things on the albums, so credit him for continuing to keep things fresh and mine new terrain.  We’ll see how the rest of the project turns out — in the interim, give this one a spin:

Next we’ll depart the island, but stay within the kingdom, jetting over to check on the latest from Silverbacks, the promising new five-piece from Ireland who’s been putting out some really catchy singles.  I’ve posted about these guys before — up and comers from the island sporting a triple guitar attack and some jittery, catchy riffs.  Still haven’t found much more on them online, still waiting on their debut release, but if they keep releasing singles like this I won’t complain too much.  It’s another winning affair — lead singer Daniel O’Kelly does his best Julian Casablancas impression while name checking another of that era’s giants, LCD Soundsystem, as the propulsive bass riff drives things along.  The band’s on quite a roll — let’s hope they keep it up (either on that much awaited full length or its continued string of singles) in the coming months.

Speaking of triple guitar attacks, we’ll continue our island hopping getaway and fly a little further afield, this time to the outback to check on the latest from the lads in Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever. I’ve written about these guys a bunch, having been a favored find since Shaky Knees and their landing on my year end list in 2018.  They’ve released a string of solid singles in the interim, including this latest one, the oddly named “Cars in Space.” (Shout out to Elon Musk?) It’s another vintage turn — as much as a band this new can have a vintage — full of swirling guitars and melodies that builds to an invigorating crescendo before leaving you thirsty for more, much like the waves of their eponymous coast.  These guys really are an exciting new outfit, so let’s hope they keep the hot streak up for years to come. For now, check out [cue echo] “Caaaaaaaaaars! Iiiiiiiiiin! SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!” here:

We’ll head back to the mainland and the safety of North America, stopping first with our friends up north to hear the latest from Wolf Parade. It’s their first outing since 2018’s Cry, Cry, Cry and the first since bassist/guitarist Dante DeCaro (of former Hot Hot Heat fame) left the band, closing a run of three excellent albums with the group. (At Mount Zoomer, Expo 86, and the aforementioned Cry.) Left in his wake is the original three-piece and the band sounds little worse for wear on its fifth, Thin Mind (which is no knock on DeCaro and the importance of his previous contributions). Released just last week I’m still delving into the album as a whole, but the first couple singles have been strong, including this latest, “Julia Take Your Man Home.”  Similar to first passes through the album, what stands out is the clarity and muscle of Spencer Krug’s and Dan Boeckner’s guitars.  They’d always been there before, but they feel more prominent here, like abs after you lay off the sweets and start running. It’s a welcome reappearance, writ large and on “Julia,” a catchy little tune that’s all bright and shiny (and filled with shapes that look like dicks) — give it a listen here:

We’ll close with a couple solo outings on our return to the states, the first from Afghan Whigs frontman Greg Dulli, who’s set to release his first solo album next year, Random Desire.  He’s been working on songs the past three years, since the Whigs’ last album, In Spades, in 2017, during which time the band’s guitarist Dave Rosser passed away.  We’ll have to see how much of that shows up in the album’s lyrics, but there’s nothing overt in the first single, “Pantomima.”  It’s a good listen, marrying that sultry swagger Dulli’s known for with some muscular guitar — hopefully the rest of the album matches this one’s fire.  Give it a ride here:

Lastly we’ll visit our old pal Hamilton Leithauser, the former frontman of the beloved Walkmen, who’s back with a new single, “Here They Come.” Ham’s been largely invisible since his last major outing, 2016’s I Had a Dream That You Were Mine, which landed at #6 on that year’s list. (He did a one-off single with Angel Olsen in 2017, but not much else.) There’s nothing concrete yet in terms of release dates or titles, but it sounds like he’s got a new album almost ready, of which this would apparently be the first glimpse.  If so it seems like it’ll be comparable to his previous two albums, with Ham belting out emotional Walkmen-style wallops and balancing those with his Sinatra-inspired crooning, which is just fine with me. Yes, I miss his former band (possibly moreso than any other disbanded unit of recent years), but Ham’s voice remains a singular delight, capable of hitting the stratosphere at a moment’s notice after lancing your heart with similar ease. Same recipe applies here — give it a listen while we wait for more company for it here:

–BS

The Sound of the Wrecking Ball — Parades, Gazes, and a Pile as Big as Texas

Now that the last minute negotiations failed and the government is officially shut down, I know what you’re thinking — “If I can’t count on my elected officials to get things done, and civil employees aren’t allowed to come to my rescue now, surely I’m doomed.”  And while I see the merit in that logic, and how dark these times seem, I know your need to believe is strong and you haven’t quite given up.  So this civil servant isn’t going to let you down. I’m going to save you the only way I know how — by telling the three of you who read this thing about some great music.  And do so on my day off.  For free.  Because the country needs it. And I believe in you.  You’re welcome, America.

All kidding aside, one of my favorite things about this time of year — other than this town being largely vacated and the precious two to three weeks of peace that means at the office, on the commute, and just generally day to day as the majority of the sh#$birds are off contaminating other areas — is the abundance of similar year end lists to yours truly’s where kindred spirits offer their highlights and I get to discover bands or albums I might’ve missed during the year.  Despite my constant vigilance, there’s always a handful that slip through undetected, so part of the fun is discovering these treasures every year post holidays.  Really helps grind out the hardest part of winter, bringing a little warmth to the coldest days of the year.

This year’s been no different, as I’ve already stumbled on a couple new obsessions to share, so what better time than now when you’re in the midst of a crisis of faith and the temperature is hovering around Congressional approval rating levels or lower? So without further ado, here’s some of the happy discoveries I’ve made thus far!

First up is the latest release from the flock of Canadian geese flying south for the winter, the lads from Wolf Parade back with their fourth album (their first in over six years), Cry Cry Cry.  I’d never really listened to these guys, but this one kept showing up on several of the lists and I keyed in on the frantic, joyous tones used thanks to the band’s prolonged hiatus, so thought I’d give it a try.  The album grabs you from the outset with an ominous lower octaves piano run and a cryptic opening line that immediately seizes you attention — “Lazarus online, I received your message. You’re a fan of mine — your name’s Rebecca, and you’ve decided not to die.  Alright, let’s fight — let’s rage against the night.” It’s a great line, a rebellious sentiment suited for the times and one that swells as the song goes on.

The band calls to mind several touchstones that resonated as I worked through the album — frontman Spencer Krug’s voice reminds you of Beck at times (before he went pop and was still endearingly weird), the organs/pianos/keys hearken to quintessential Canadian bands like New Pornographers/Broken Social Scene/etc, and there’s an epic swell to the songs that is reminiscent of early Arcade Fire (a band they used to open for ten-odd years ago, coincidentally). It all works really nicely — aside from the aforementioned “Lazarus,” other highlights include Dan Boeckner’s guitars at the end of “Valley Boy,” the driving percussion and sentiment of “Incantation” (“remake my heart — let morning come!”), the jittery buildup of “Baby Blue” that erupts in blissful chaos at the finish, or the shapeshifting epic “Weaponized,” which should be a set closer for them for years. It’s a really solid album and delving into their earlier albums similarly rewards the ears (I’ve been spending a lot of time on the debut Apologies to the Queen) — check out a medley of their stuff here:

Next up is Male Gaze, the band from San Francisco that proves the Schoolhouse Rock rule that three is indeed a magic number.  The band itself is a three piece (frontman/guitarist Matt Jones, bassist Mark Kaiser, and drummer Adam Cimino), back with their third album (Miss Taken), and their sound is an interesting hybrid of three distinct styles — there’s a new wave vibe (think Joy Division with less gloom), fuzzed up garage rock (Black Angels kept coming to mind), and 60s style psychedelic (take your pick of British invaders).  Somehow they all flow together well and make for an enjoyable listen.

Tracks like “Keep Yr Kools,” “Pale Gaze,” and “If U Were My Girl” fall into the former category with Jones nailing both the delivery and lyrics of that era (“if you were my girl the future wouldn’t look quite so bleak, I might actually feel something — if you were my girl” on the latter track), “All Yours” and “African Ripoff” charge forth from the middle one like amped up mustangs, while “Didn’t,” “Tell Me How It Is,” and the title track brightly glide from the latter. It’s a really cool mix, balancing between funky, muscular riffs and jangly, chiming counterpoints as you move from song to song. The previous two albums tipped more towards the first two categories (which I truthfully prefer a bit more to this one, particularly the smoking debut Gale Maze), but the band’s growth in that span, releasing an album a year and adding the new elements here, is impressive.  Definitely one I’m going to be keeping an eye on moving forward — check out what they can do here (for some reason the new one is MIA online, so enjoy the stellar debut):

Last up is a magic band from Beantown that I’ve been obsessing over the most since finding them, Pile. Similar to the above bands who I’ve discovered several albums into their career (four and three, respectively), raising the slightly maddening question of “how the fu#$ did I miss these people?!” every time it happens, that point is driven home with a hammer fist with these guys as they’ve somehow eluded me for SIX albums, including this one (A Hairshirt of Purpose). And they’re really effing good.

They showed up just outside the top ten on The Onion’s top twenty of the year list (#11) and the writeup’s characterization — that the band “plays its songs…as if they were horror films…running right up to the edge of a cliff to dangle there precariously” — was what caught my eye.  And then I played the video embedded in the article, which belongs to the aptly named monster “Texas” and I was done. Sounding like the beloved hometown Jesus Lizard, the song is just over two and a half minutes of wild, noisy fury like that band at its thunderous best.  It’s the high point on the album, which is a more subdued affair than previous outings.

Here they opt for a more muted, atonal tone mostly — from the opening “Worms” to “No Bone,” “Milkshake,” and “Making Eyes,” or the frond end of songs like “Rope’s Length,” “Leaning on a Wheel,” and “Slippery,” the band opts to keep its knives sheathed more than normal.  (They brandish them rather wickedly at the end of those latter three, thankfully, violently thrashing to life like the person on the cover after his head slips below the surface of the tub.)  Outside of “Texas,” though (and comparable freight trains “Hissing for Peace,” “Hairshirt,” and “Fingers”) it’s a much more subdued affair, and if I’d only listened to this album I might’ve let these guys remain out in the cold.  Thankfully what I heard on that first track intrigued me enough to check out their earlier stuff, and that’s where I really fell in love.

On albums like Jerk Routine and Magic Isn’t Real (sorry, Stephven) the Lizard vibe comes through even stronger and the band flattens you with what it can do.  Frontman Rick Maguire has a wail that vacillates between a pair of Daves — the aforementioned’s David Yow and the Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl — on the rockers, while guitarist Matt Becker, bassist Matt Connery, and drummer Kris  Kuss (whose name appropriately calls to mind both ‘percussion’ and ‘concussion,’ the former causing the latter in his playing) bludgeon you in the process.  There’s nary a bad song to be found, and the spell continues on later albums Dripping and You’re Better Than This, which dole out even more punishment.  When the band does quiet down (as it does so frequently on Hairshirt, while much more sparingly on the others) you notice how much warmth Maguire’s voice has, drawing you in close before smashing both fists into the side of your head.  It’s a potent juxtaposition, and as the Onion writeup says, it’s “both lovely and ugly, even when — especially when — it doesn’t make a lick of sense.” For me the heavier earlier albums where this punishing whiplash is in such high supply are more irresistible, but I never would have discovered ’em without a little trip to “Texas” on Hairshirt.  See which version you prefer here:


We’ll close with some odds and sods from the last few weeks — first a video from fellow Scotsmen Frightened Rabbit that they dropped on Christmas Day.  It’s the single “No Real Life,” which was released to support Alzheimer’s research, and is a characteristically lovely tune from the lads.  They’re coming to town soon to play their classic The Midnight Organ Fight in its entirety for its ten year anniversary, so super excited to see that shortly.  In the interim, enjoy the new one here:

Next comes the latest single from the upcoming release for Portland’s Mimicking Birds, and similar to the first single “Sunlight Daze,” it’s a bit more amped up and electrified than their earlier, folksier work.  We’ll see how that works across the broader album once it comes out, but does well enough on its own so far.  Check it out here:

Lastly we’ll close with the latest single from the ever productive Will Toledo of Car Seat Headrest, whose upcoming album Twin Fantasy (a re-recording of a previous effort of the same name) drops next month (Feb 16). He, too, seems to have been bit by the 80s/synth bug, but it isn’t as jarring as some of the other bands fussed at on this site since his stuff already sounded a bit like the Cars at times.  This one’s a glammy, upbeat revisiting of “Nervous Young Inhumans” and hopefully the rest of the album sounds as good as this one the second time around.  Check it out here:


Until next time, amici… –BS