Author Archive

Caribou “Silver”

“Silver” is one of those songs where I have to assume the lyrics were written in some way as a response to the musical arrangement – everything in the song is moving in these slow, sad circles, so Dan Snaith sings about being heartbroken like it’s just being stuck in a painful loop. It’s all about memory as this inescapable thing that even poisons your dreams, and feeling further away from a person who is still somehow taking up all this space in your mind. It’s a gorgeous piece of music, but also one that just has this incredible melancholic undertow and a hazy feeling that reminds me a lot of being on prescription painkillers.

Buy it from iTunes.

Hyuna “Red”

I’ve come to really love the K-Pop version of rap, which to me is both a more interesting version of the typical K-Pop aesthetic, and a bizarre reflection of American hip-hop. I love the way an artist like Hyuna can go out of her way to approximate the cadences and lyrical forms of American rap, but when it gets filtered through her voice and aesthetic, it all becomes something else entirely — far more colorful and electrified, and aggressive in a way that doesn’t feel violent or hostile. It’s more like this very extreme expression of the self that is cartoonish and superhuman. It’s taking something that’s always been in rap culture and making it more strange and abstract.

Buy it from Amazon.

U2 featuring Lykke Li “The Troubles”

I can’t help but wonder what the response to U2’s new album would’ve been like if they had gone with a traditional release with relatively little fanfare. I know they wouldn’t ever want to do that, but I think this record would’ve been far better received if they undersold it, and were just like “hey, we made a kinda personal record about our youth, check it out or not.” It’s more or less impossible for U2 to reclaim the center of pop music now, and it’s just embarrassing to watch them try, but reinventing themselves as humble artists would’ve at least put the press on their side. They could’ve come up with a narrative for themselves that would’ve adjusted expectations in a way that didn’t set themselves up for failure.

You can see just how much they screwed themselves with this “force themselves into everyone’s iTunes library” strategy just in how every discussion of the record is almost entirely about that. And you know, that’s not because writers aren’t listening to the music – it’s because this gambit is just drastically more interesting than any of the songs on this album. A low key release would’ve at least put the focus on what’s actually going on with Songs of Innocence – it’s by far the most autobiographical record in their discography, and it’s a focused attempt to reconnect with the sound of their first two albums.

Yes, there’s some parts of songs that are clearly meant to emulate acts like The Black Keys, Coldplay, and Mumford & Sons, and that is a rather transparent bid to get radio play, but for the most part it’s an extremely regressive record. I can’t help but feel that part of the reason they are cycling back to their earliest work is because they are running on fumes in terms of writing strong melodies, and so it makes sense to go back to the more vibe-centric sound they had before they really had a solid grasp on songwriting. But I think it’s also a classic strategy where people who are having trouble creating try to reconnect with what inspired them in the first place. This record is basically a concept album about that notion.

This album is disappointing for me in that it’s the first time in their career they’ve released a record and I don’t love at least one track. No Line on the Horizon is probably a worse album, but I really like that title track a lot, and “Magnificent” and “Breathe” are fine by me. This album doesn’t really embarrass, but it doesn’t inspire either. There’s some cringe-y stuff, but for the most part it’s just kinda…competent. When they aren’t trying to pull “please put us on the radio moves,” I mainly just think “oh, I get what you’re going for.” I suppose “The Troubles” is my favorite track – Lykke Li’s vocal part is the most memorable hook on the entire album, and musically it’s a cousin to “One” and “Wake Up Dead Man” and those are both amazing songs. “The Troubles” doesn’t quite measure up, but I feel like this is the sort of music I’d want a 50something U2 to make – dark, mature, contemplative. It’s beautiful and moving in a very relaxed way, and feels quietly confident. This isn’t that hard for them to do, they just need to learn that this mode suits them, and is probably what most people want them to be now. I think at this point, most U2 fans would settle for them not acting like old guys who want to party with people half their age.

This album is already in your iTunes library. I wrote more about this record over at BuzzFeed.

Interpol “Everything Is Wrong”

It’s unfair to project your experience as a listener on to the intention of an artist, but Interpol’s last record suffered a lot because it just sounded like a slog. It just sounded like a band who was exhausted with itself, and it gave little indication that they’d ever come back from that. Frankly, I was surprised they didn’t just break up after they made it. But here we are a few years later, and they’ve returned with a record where they sound genuinely happy to be Interpol, and inspired to write the best Interpol songs they can make. Part of this seems to come from them having to change the way they write after the departure of Carlos D. – Paul Banks had to write all the bass parts, so there’s this new spark between him and Daniel Kessler and Sam Fogarino, as they find a new way to work together and be surprised by each other. But ultimately, the songs work because they’re just so at ease with themselves. “Everything Is Wrong” would fit neatly into either of their first two albums, and that’s a great thing. It has that dark drama and fluttering beauty, that grim drive. They have a very particular thing and nobody does it better, and they shouldn’t let anyone else get ahead of them on that.

Buy it from Amazon.

Sloan “Cleopatra”

Sloan’s new album Commonwealth splits into four sides, one for each songwriter in the band. You can look at it like four miniature solo albums released under the Sloan banner, or as a typical Sloan album sequenced so their songs don’t really mingle together. It’s a little of both, probably. The four sides do sound like distinct projects, and some members take advantage of this opportunity better than others. Andrew Scott went all the way with it and wrote one big side-long epic, which definitely makes him the most ambitious member of the group. On the other end of the spectrum, Chris Murphy turned in a handful of good songs that are pretty much business-as-usual for him, and Patrick Pentland is just kinda on autopilot doing his bubblegum riff-rock thing. Jay Ferguson is the one who really shines on Commonwealth. His side, which opens the record, is an elegant pop suite in which he weaves some top-shelf melodies together until it all pays off in a harmony full of callbacks in “Cleopatra.” It’s very inspired stuff, and his is the only side of this I actually wish could be expanded into a full length record. Otherwise, I think Commonwealth is a pretty strong argument in favor of the Sloan guys being a lot better together than apart, and for their songs to play off each other rather than stand alone.

Buy it from Amazon.

Sinkane “Omdurman”

It’s interesting to me just how country this song gets without necessarily announcing itself as a country song. The guitar parts are straight up ‘70s country, it’s all twang and pedal steel, and while the organ part definitely calls back to more or less the same era, it’s more ambiguous. It dominates the arrangement, so everything in the track tilts everything towards its warm, vaguely kitschy groove. Ahmed Gallab’s voice is ambiguous too – he’s often an R&B-ish singer, but here his voice is soft and rounded, just sort of lovely and graceful in a way that doesn’t necessarily signal any particular genre. So it all comes together in this way that feels both strange and cozy. It feels like something sent out of time to comfort and reassure us.

Buy it from Amazon.

Basement Jaxx “What’s the News?”

Honestly, I can’t help but feel disappointed by the new Basement Jaxx record because 1) the singles leading up to it were so good, but do not appear on it and 2) the bar is always set quite high for Jaxx records. I get why they didn’t put “Back 2 the Wild” and “What A Difference Your Love Makes” on the album – they’ve been around a while, and it’s maybe better to give people something entirely fresh, but a lot of Junto feels a bit too …ordinary? is that it?… for an act who have always been at their best when the music feels overwhelming and gleefully excessive. “What’s the News?” lives up to that expectation, though, and definitely takes it back to the space they explored on Rooty over a decade ago. It’s funny how that aesthetic still feels so radical and new, but maybe it’s because only recently have acts like Disclosure and Rudimental have come close to matching this sort of hyperactive dance pop. The world caught up.

Buy it from Amazon.

Merchandise “Enemy”

I was not particularly interested in the earlier incarnation of Merchandise. I didn’t hear fully formed songs in their recordings, and I don’t think that being a band who plays a lot of DIY gigs is even remotely intriguing. But this new version of the band on 4AD has my attention, in part because they’ve embraced a level of craft and a particular approach to recording that reminds me mainly of music that’s extremely unfashionable among the sort of people who had up til now embraced a band like Merchandise – R.E.M., Joshua Tree-era U2, James, later Tears for Fears, and all manner of tastefully produced early ‘90s major label alt-music. They’re good at too! “Enemy,” the best cut on their new record, sounds like Peter Buck strumming alongside The Edge over a relaxed yet brisk beat. There’s a lot of implied negative space in the music, but it’s not begging you to notice that like a lot of airy indie rock does. They’ve just absorbed something really key about the way Brian Eno produced bands like U2 and James – you can play things very straight forward and really let people hear the chords clearly, but it will pop a bit more if you add just a touch of ambience.

Buy it from Amazon.

QT “Hey QT”

This song, a collaboration, between Sophie and A.G. Cook from PC Music, may be actual proof that the universe likes me and wants me to be happy. This is all concentrate energy and joy, and somehow manages to feel fresh and new while also feeling vaguely nostalgic. I’m not sure for what – does it just feel like a pop song from 10, 20, 30 years ago? Is it more about reconnecting with the feeling of loving a silly pop song when you’re very young? Either way, this feels like a big step in Sophie’s evolution in particular – there’s a lot more to the structure of the song than the blunt minimalism of the first two singles, and there seems to be something more pointed here about the way he insists on pitch-shifting his voice to sound like a female singer.

Buy it from Beatport.

Ty Segall “The Singer”

In a strange way, this song strikes me as the midway point between Pavement in 1995 and Oasis in 1995. I say “in a strange way” because neither of those bands really did waltzes, and it doesn’t literally sound exactly like either band. But on this song – and a few others – Segall is gesturing towards a shabby psychedelic balladry that Stephen Malkmus sometimes gestures towards, but can’t quite do. And it’s also in the solo, and the pleasing slackness of the rhythm section. The Oasis part is in the nasal pinch of Segall’s voice, and the more refined side of the arrangement, which goes all in on a sort of drama Malkmus has always shied away from. It’s a magnificent song, and maybe it’s ridiculous for me to say this after spending an entire paragraph comparing him to other artists, but I feel like this is the song/the album where Segall has really found his voice as an artist.

Buy it from Amazon.

The New Pornographers “Dancehall Domine”

Of all the songs on The New Pornographers’ sixth album Brill Bruisers, “Dancehall Domine” is the one that most reminds me of the sleek, turbo-charged sound that made me fall in love with the band back in the very early ‘00s. They never really abandoned that sound, but this one feels like a fresh spin on the signature sound – a little colder, a little harder. I really like the lyrics, which seem to be addressed to a newly famous person, and it made me realize just how many New Pornographers songs address the idea of fame and chasing status. “Dancehall Domine” works so well because it’s both skeptical of the social constructs of fame, but also really sympathetic to someone who may suddenly feel very overwhelmed and out of their depth.

Buy it from Amazon.

Arcade Fire @ Barclays Center 8/24/2014
Reflektor / Flashbulb Eyes / Power Out / Rebellion (Lies) / Joan of Arc / Rococo / The Suburbs / Ready to Start / Tunnels / We Exist / My Body Is A Cage / No Cars Go / Haiti / Afterlife / It’s Never Over (Oh Orpheus) / Sprawl II // Dream Baby Dream (with David Byrne) / Here Comes the Night Time / Normal Person / Wake Up

Arcade Fire “Here Comes the Night Time”

I’ve seen a bunch of Arcade Fire shows going back to 2007 in venues of varying shapes and sizes – a small church, a huge field, a converted movie palace, an arena, a makeshift club – and this was, by FAR, the best show I’ve ever seen them play. The tour they’re on now is the one where they’ve fully realized all of their ideas and aesthetics, and pushed them further into this colorful carnival spirit that I think it took a while for them to fully inhabit. When I saw them last year, they were using a lot of the same costumes and the bobble head people, etc, but it just wasn’t quite there yet. It all seemed forced.

But now all the Reflektor songs are very lived-in and they fans know them well, and the band is working with a much bigger stage and higher production values. They can pull off performance art staging like dramatizing Orpheus’ quest for Eurydice during “It’s Never Over” and have it seem fun and cool rather than dorky and pretentious, and end “Wake Up” by leaving the venue on a New Orleans second line playing a jazz version of the song. They can have guys in high heels dancing to “We Exist” on a stage in the middle of the room, and get David Byrne to dress up like a dracula and sing backup on a Suicide cover. They can blast confetti and have a bunch of auxiliary percussionists and genuinely make people dance through much of the set. It just clicks. This whole carnival thing is part of them now, and it’s a good thing – a problem with the earlier incarnation of their show was that it was just a bit too dour, and all deep dark catharsis and not much pure fun. Now they are pulling off a full tonal range, and it’s a far richer experience.

Buy it from Amazon.

Girlpool “American Beauty”

These girls are putting up a bratty front in this song, and you can tell they’re pretty excited to push the envelope a bit by singing “eat me out to American Beauty. That’s fun, but what really makes this work is that they’re not too cool for their own song and are singing very genuinely about lust. There’s a tacit acknowledgment in this song of the willingness to be vulnerable in order to follow through on that, and the way you can try to keep some defenses up even after you have.

Buy it from Girlpool’s BandCamp page.

Kero Kero Bonito “Sick Beat”

It’s funny to get this song in the same week that Taylor Swift dropped a single in which she describes a totally conventional pop 4/4 as a “sick beat.” This track actually does make good on the promise of a sick beat, and taps into the same manic, surrealistic pop aesthetic of this trio’s South London contemporaries – A.G. Cook, Sophie, the general PC Music crew. Whereas Cook’s tracks feel like they could veer off in another musical, tonal, or lyrical direction at any moment, “Sick Beats” is a lot more linear. This is more about energy and color, and the way the lyrics slip in and out of English, and keep flipping between inane, silly nostalgia and lines that clearly come from a mature, feminist perspective.

Buy it from iTunes.

Nicholas Krgovich “The Backlot”

The first line of the chorus of this song should resonate with, well, most any human being who has moved on from a relationship: “I don’t know what came along and tricked me into believing that you were the only one for me.” There’s a lot of ways you could deliver a sentiment like that, but Nicholas Krgovich and his collaborators undersell it a bit, and make it feel like the sort of rational hindsight a few years after it all goes wrong, rather than the immediate aftermath. The entire song is lovely and calm, but the airiness of the arrangement is offset by the blunt rhythms played on the piano. That gives it some oomph and texture, but also makes the emotion of the song feel very strong and grounded.

Buy it from Tin Angel Records.

Kimbra “Madhouse”

Who knew that Kimbra, the girl from that “Somebody That I Used To Know” song, had it in her to make a solid art-funk album that legitimately sounds like late ’80s Prince? I like these little surprises in life. “Madhouse” is the most overtly Prince-ish track on the record, but there’s echoes of a lot of music he’s made or inspired over the years throughout the album. (I hear Erykah Badu, Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, Janet Jackson, of Montreal, Spektrum, Janelle Monaé in there too.) But despite belonging to this lineage of freaky funk pop, it doesn’t feel rote or devoid of imagination. The production feels very fresh and contemporary, and her persona is different. She’s not a big character like a lot of the artists I’ve mentioned, but she has a distinct tone to her voice, and a way of implying that she’s at a simmer, but about to roll over to a boil.

Buy it from Amazon.

Mr. Twin Sister “Blush”

Back when Mr. Twin Sister was known simply as Twin Sister, the band’s best material were the tracks where they strayed away from shoegaze-y indie stuff and embraced a very mid-90s moody sophistication. They wisely have kept moving in that direction, and “Blush,” a single from their forthcoming record, nails this aesthetic better than anything I’ve heard them or most anyone else do in recent years. “Blush” falls somewhere between early, straightforwardly soulful Erykah Badu and the rich, smoky atmosphere of trip-hop era Portishead – this is so obvious that virtually all descriptions of the song mention this, but it’s such an inspired combination that it now feels shocking that no one has done it before. I hope this isn’t a fluke for them, because it’d be fantastic to have a full album of songs in this vein.

Visit the Mr Twin Sister site.

Cam’ron “Lala”

Cam’ron is a rapper who has aged very well on record in large part because his vocal style has never been about projecting youthful vitality or energy. He has a very NYC kind of laid-back cool, and his cadences always feel relaxed and lived-in. My favorite thing that he does with his voice, and you can hear it on this track for sure, is add a light smirk to end of his lines that sounds both defiant and affectionate. Even when Cam is angry, he never sounds like he’s mad at you, and that he’s letting you in on something.

Buy it from Amazon.

Saint Pepsi “Fiona Coyne (Maxi Yo Remix)”

Look, it’s not easy to choose between this version of “Fiona Coyne” and the original mix by Saint Pepsi. They both have the optimistic vibe and perky groove, but they come at it from different angles. The remix is nearly half as long as the original, and starts off feeling a bit loose and spacey before shifting into a more assertive and direct groove accented by keyboard horn hits. Like a lot of Saint Pepsi’s music, the song really thrives on tapping into a classy-kitsch aesthetic, and approximating the sort of clean, digital interpretation of disco that was big at the beginning and end of the ’90s.

Visit the Saint Pepsi page on SoundCloud.

Love Inks “Shoot 100 Panes of Glass”

If someone had lied to me and told me that the forthcoming record by Love Inks was a new album by Young Marble Giants, I would have believed that without a moment of hesitation. Love Inks draw on more or less exactly the same formula – extreme minimalism built upon the implication of tension in an empty space, all sense of movement coming from simple drum machine programming, and a very particular vocal tone and cadence. Love Inks feels just a bit colder somehow – maybe it’s the difference between digital and analog, maybe it’s in the way Sherry LeBlanc sings with a more confident, measured tone than Alison Statton. But either way, they decorate the void at the center of this track very well.

Buy it from Amazon.