Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Sonic Youth “Walkin’ Blue”

On a superficial level, “Walkin’ Blue” resembles “Karenology” from Murray Street, but the intensity isn’t really there. Whereas that song had a similarly springy strum and build to release, it also had a bittersweet tone that flipped its moment of catharsis into a moment of powerless confusion and heartbreak. “Walkin’ Blue” is more simple, and not just because it lacks an extended noise coda. For Sonic Youth, this is very post-U2 arena rock — ringing chords, huge sentiment, big chorus. It’s almost deliberately “normal,” but the SY-ness comes across in the color and the texture. The mood of the piece tiptoes back and forth between listlessness and peace, little sighs and big sighs, but the center is Lee Ranaldo’s gentleness and empathy, which is entirely unambiguous. He’s not saying too much, but what comes across is important: I’m here for you, let’s try to make things better, but let’s not get our expectations too high.

Buy it from Amazon.

James Rabbit “These Are Perfect Waves”

Even in spite of some occasional setbacks and ongoing frustrations, I am a pretty lucky person. One of the many ways in which I am fortunate is that I can count myself among the select number of people who can claim to fully love a song in which they are mentioned by name. “These Are Perfect Waves” in some ways comes across like liner notes set to music — I get my shout-out when Tyler starts listing off thank-yous — but it’s more about memory, and being appreciative for every good moment in life, and especially the adventures you share with the people you love. Tyler’s language is wonderfully specific, and emphatic in just the right spots. You listen to him, and it’s hard not to be a bit jealous: I want that fun, I want that excitement. Maybe I already have it, but I want more, more, more, more. The music charges along, moving into an infinite horizon, ready to take on new challenges while keeping in mind everyone and everything that made what you are in the present. It’s like a bus, driving off to the next big fun thing, and when I hear it, I just want to jump on and go for the ride.

Get it for free from Last FM.

Apollo Ghosts “I Won’t Support Your Love”

The Jarvis Cocker song featured here last week examined the inner life of a terrible boyfriend, but this track by the Apollo Ghosts comes at the same topic from a perspective more of us are likely to share: The friend or sibling who struggles to be supportive of someone whose taste in suitors is extremely and consistently poor. I can’t imagine anyone reading this has ever not felt exactly like this about someone or other at some point, or all the time. The song is simple and direct; the sentiment is pitch-perfect, even if the guy’s voice is not. Crucially, the singer conveys the careful diplomacy involved in delivering this sort of tough love, coating the bitter pill of brutal honesty with a large amount of sugary affection.

Buy it from Catbird Records.

Phoenix “Lisztomania”

Maybe you’ve heard this song before?

The lyrics to “Lisztomania” are entirely inscrutable as a whole, but there are enough phrases that ring out and demand identification that it’s hard to listen without trying to make sense of every line. Obviously, English is not Thomas Mars’ first language, but previous Phoenix songs were rarely so cryptic — if anything, he erred on the side of directness and simplicity. It could be that as his life has become more public, he has opted to obscure his self-expression somewhat with strange imagery, random asides, and allusions to things that have no obvious connection to the apparent theme of the song. Usually songwriters start out this way and become increasingly open, so it’s odd to find someone move in the opposite direction.

Here’s a possibility: Maybe he just doesn’t care what the words are because he knows that with a song like this, it barely matters. It’s all in the sound, and especially the spring in the beat, the shuffle of the guitar, the plinking of the piano, and the keening of the melody. Romantic joy, romantic confusion, romantic angst, romantic foolishness. It can be whatever we want it to be, as long as the romance is there, and oh God, it is.

Buy it from Amazon.

In case you’ve been putting it off, you should know that I am officially cutting off orders for the Fluxblog t-shirts on Friday. If you want one, please do order one now. I will keep the paypal donations open indefinitely, though. Your support means a lot, especially right now. Thanks to everyone who has ordered a t-shirt or donated, it’s been a major help.

Marit Bergman “Carry Me Home”

I’m not crazy about Kelly Clarkson’s most recent album, mainly because I keep wanting her to make another “Since U Been Gone,” and she only ever seems to come up with ballads that are nothing like it, or rockers that are more dense and heavy than dynamic and cathartic. I hold her up to an unfair level of expectation, and so I have to find my “Since U Been Gones” elsewhere. This song by Marit Bergman nearly does the trick. It’s not quite as rocking, but it has a similar sort of velocity and emphatic emotion. It’s not coming from a place of pain and bitterness, so the relative lightness works in its favor, and works as a come down from that kind of intensity. Bergman isn’t a vocal powerhouse like Clarkson, but she’s a fine singer and this is a terrific performance, and as much as I love the blockbuster-scale desperation in Clarkson’s voice, I appreciate the more sensible, scaled-down melodrama in Bergman’s delivery.

Buy it from Marit Bergman.

Joan of Arc “Explain Yourselves #2”

Joan of Arc have written songs with groovy beats in the past, but “Explain Yourselves #2” is different — there are no odd tangents, and a minimum of intentional awkwardness and tension. There’s a stillness and peace at the core of this song that makes me imagine a cool, clean, air-conditioned place to rest while the rhythm grinds mechanically outside. Tim Kinsella can’t keep himself from sounding anxious, but even that gets toned down a bit in this track, in favor of conveying broader sense of yearning for safety and stability. All together it sounds like a realization: The world around him cannot be ignored, but somehow recedes into the background as he focuses his mind on what he wants and what he needs.

Buy it from Polyvinyl Records.

Jarvis Cocker “I Never Said I Was Deep”

“I Never Said I Was Deep” is great partly because we all know in our hearts that Jarvis Cocker is not the miserable, idiotic cad that he portrays in the song. If you have any investment in Jarvis, you no doubt idealize the guy somewhat — he’s the smart, classy guy who always knows how to put horrible people in their place — but he’s deliberately messing with that here, kinda nudging you to think that maybe he actually is singing from his perspective. (Still, probably not!) This is a surprisingly sympathetic depiction of unthinking douchebaggery; casting the dink in question as a confused fool who knows when he’s doing the wrong thing, but cannot stop himself from always acting on his worst impulses. He’s selfish but helpless, and the pathetic tragedy of his existence elicits just enough empathy from the listener to blind us to the reality that he has absolutely none at all, and that’s his major problem.

Buy it from Amazon.

St. Vincent @ Webster Hall, 5/20/2009

The Strangers / Laughing With A Mouth Of Blood / Now, Now / Actor Out Of Work / The Party / Oh My God / The Bed / Save Me From What I Want / Black Rainbow / Marrow / Just The Same But Brand New // Marry Me / Your Lips Are Red

If you have been to enough concerts, you become familiar with the dynamic of the audience and the singer during small talk moments: They say something, the audience claps or laughs accordingly, and the space between the songs is filled up, nothing more to think about. Annie Clark is a friendly, funny person on stage, but last night, it seemed as though the audience collectively didn’t know what to do when she addressed us. Awkward pauses, bad jokes from weird dudes in the back, lots of nervous laughter — at some points, it felt like the entire room was on a bad first date with someone way out of our league.

Clark and her band of top notch multi-instrumentalists were excellent, but they did not entirely find their groove until about halfway through the show. They were tight and well-rehearsed, but some songs early on came across as a bit tentative, as though they had not yet settled into the best way to perform the arrangement in concert. This was apparent on “The Strangers” and “Laughing With A Mouth Of Blood,” in which Clark sang both her lead and backing vocals, which overlap slightly on record. It wasn’t unsuccessful, but it was less than ideal — she may be wise to eventually have another woman on hand to handle the secondary parts. Her male vocalists were superb, though — the extended outro of “The Party” was totally gorgeous, and they added the necessary weight to the chorus of “Save Me From What I Want.”

“Save Me From What I Want” marked the part of the show when everything totally clicked together. Not coincidentally, these were the more groove-oriented songs — “Save Me” popped with a smoothly funky bass line, and additional melody and texture from pizzicato violin and saxophone; “Black Rainbow” was transformed into something of a stomp without sacrificing its lovely, delicate tune, and “Marrow” had a burning intensity that made me want to start a petition begging Clark to write more songs like it.

St. Vincent “Marrow”

When Annie Clark sings phrases like “save me” and “help me,” she never sounds as though she is making herself vulnerable to appeal to other people, especially not in a sexual sort of way. It comes across more like self-directed exasperation, as though he’s freaking out about getting herself caught in one trap or another. “Marrow” is about as hysterical as the preternaturally composed Clark gets, but its groove is smooth and gliding even when the song is tense and violent. The arrangement reminds me a bit of Trent Reznor’s work circa The Fragile — that perfect marriage of immaculate production, super-tight musicianship, potent anxiety, and unapologetic funkiness.

Buy it from Amazon.

The Harvey Girls “Plastic Deer”

I don’t have anything to say. No, that’s not true: I don’t know what to say. I have a million things that I want to say, but either the words don’t form, or the moment isn’t right, or words just don’t help. There are words in this song, but they feel the same — sounds and ideas and emotions that do not connect, do not communicate anything but angst and love and pain and fear and concern floating through this empty space in the skull. Echoing off the walls, endlessly. Calm and empty, yet feeling everything.

Visit the Harvey Girls website.

John Vanderslice “D.I.A.L.O.”

The irony here is that as John Vanderslice’s character sings about his need to leave his life behind and go it alone, his voice is shadowed by that of a woman, and the tune itself is open and inviting, like a futuristic campfire song. He sounds as though he is trying to talk himself into the decision, and can barely stand the thought of feeling so alone, even if he’s halfway there.

Buy it from Amazon.

El Rego et Ses Commandos “Feeling You Got”

I am reasonably certain that most or all of this song is sung in English, but that doesn’t keep it from being entirely inscrutable. Not that words are the point here — it’s all in the bounce and throb, the shuffle and swagger, and in hollers and shouts that communicate enthusiasm and desire in any tongue. I hear that beat come in, and it’s on.

Buy it from Amazon.

Wilco “Bull Black Nova”

This is either the best or the worst song to hear when you are consumed with a desire to beat the hell out of someone who has deliberately hurt someone you love, and there is virtually nothing you can do about it. I’m not sure. On one hand, it heightens this feeling of excruciating tension, and even when it purges that negative energy at the end, it offers very little relief. It leaves you feeling sick, thwarted, and powerless. Awful, awful, awful. On the other hand, the song conveys grief, and not anger — it’s about the paranoia and guilt that comes after doing something horrible. It’s a reminder of why violence is almost always a terrible option — it’s too easy to lose control, to go to far, and become far worse than the person that you hate. If you have a conscience, “Bull Black Nova” will punch you in the gut. It’s the worst case scenario, the nightmare that keeps you from ever crossing a line. Even if you’re entertaining a violent fantasy, you never want to be the guy in this song.

Pre-order it from Amazon.

So Cow “Casablanca”

The guitar part at the start of “Casablanca” has a wonderful force and velocity, but it is most compelling in the way that it seems to push against a tide suggested by the drumming. It’s a great way to open an album — confidently moving through pressure, asserting itself without seeming violent or angry. Once the song moves beyond that point, it goes to a lovely, tuneful place before ending with a sound like gears grinding to a halt, shooting sparks and finally going up in flames.

Buy it from Tic Tac Totally!

Iron & Wine “Sinning Hands”

There is something about Sam Beam’s voice, particularly in the context of his fuller musical arrangements, that makes me zone out and ignore his lyrics. I liked this track immediately, but probably heard it about fifteen times before thinking that I should try to pay attention to his words. As it turns out, “Sinning Hands” seems to be sung from the perspective of someone with rather complicated issues regarding sexuality. There isn’t a great deal of context in the lyrics, but there is the distinct impression that the protagonist is ashamed of his sexual relationship with a woman whose “eyes hide like kittens, new and wet.” (Uh, okay!) As the song moves along, his body withers and decays, seemingly corrupted by this sexual encounter. It reads as though it could be based upon some sort of myth or allegory, but I suppose there is always the chance that this is sung from the first person and that Sam Beam is some sort of deeply messed-up prude. I wouldn’t know.

Buy it from Amazon.

Cam’ron “My Job”

Maybe I’ve been listening to the wrong things for too long, but it is refreshing to hear a rap entirely from the perspective of someone other than the rapper, and for that character to be an empathetic portrayal of a frustrated, luckless dude stuck working terrible jobs with little hope of socioeconomic mobility. Cam’ron isn’t breaking ground, but he is touching on something raw and real, and even though he can shine on more boastful songs, he is more convincing when giving voice to an underdog. Some of that comes down to the very sound and cadence of Cam’ron’s voice — he’s just so good at sounding beleaguered, and he sells this character by underplaying his anger, and giving his performance a touch of humor and….well, if not optimism, then a belief that life isn’t entirely awful.

Buy it from Amazon.

Evil Cowards “Soldiers of Satan”

Dick Valentine’s music is very often concerned with the notion of evil its most banal and ridiculous manifestations — stupidity, laziness, tastelessness, apathy, pointless greed and corruption. The frustration at the heart of so many of the songs comes from this feeling that we’re powerless against the overwhelming force of all this minor malevolence, and it’s somehow easier to stand against the transcendent horrors of the world than all of its pettiness and venality.

Evil Cowards, Valentine’s new project with Fall On Your Sword’s William Bates, is mostly focused on this theme, and how all these little sins chip away at everything that matters in one way or another. The songs still sound like Electric Six — how could anything written and sung by Dick Valentine not sound like Dick Valentine? — but the arrangements push further than what is normally found on those records, going further into electronic pop territory than usual, and allowing for an orchestral bombast ideally suited to his manly pipes. “Soldiers of Satan” falls into the former category, revisiting the groovy synth pop style of E6 gems such as “Fabulous People” and “Infected Girls,” but with a greater sense of heroic drama in the melody and the vocal delivery. Valentine’s lyrics may come across as the sentiment of a defeated man, but he still manages to convey a defiance, courage, goodness and maturity entirely at odds with the name with the name Evil Cowards.

Buy it from Metropolis Records.

Lacrosse “It’s Always Sunday Around Here”

The wonderful thing about Lacrosse is that even when their songs express some great frustration, they still convey this incredible joy and overwhelming optimism, as though any obstacle could be overcome with focused positivity and willpower. “It’s Always Sunday Around Here” is essentially about wanting to get out of a boring rut, and though lyrically it never offers any real solution, the music sounds like six Swedes punching and kicking and smiling at life until it yields to their indomitable will, and everything becomes magical and exciting. The words may be passive, but the sound is so incredibly active — they’re earning their happy days, and working hard. The song is incredibly pleasurable, but more than that, it’s so useful: How could you not want to make your own life much better while listening to this?

Buy it from Amazon.

In case you needed reminding, Fluxblog is still in pledge drive mode. Details about why I’m doing this right now can be found here, but long story short, I’m going through a very rough period financially and I’d be grateful for any help you can provide. You have two options — you can either donate whatever amount of money you’d like via PayPal, or you can purchase one of two t-shirt designs on sale here. Those shirts, designed by Ryan Catbird and John Cei Douglas respectively, will only be on sale for another week or so, and then I’m putting in the orders. If you want a t-shirt, you should get on that now! Again, thank you sooooooo much for you help. It means a lot.

Basement Jaxx “Raindrops”

Basement Jaxx are masters of ecstatic release, and so it makes a lot of sense that whoever wrote the lyrics for this new single would foreground that concept, and make the entire song about finally getting exactly what you desire the most. The song takes place after the catharsis, but the feeling of relief is the chorus is so powerful and joyous that it implies an incredible, all-encompassing yearning and anticipation leading up to that moment of ultimate satisfaction. This is such a simple, brilliant expression of what the Jaxx do best, and clearly an instant classic in their canon of singles.

Visit the official Basement Jaxx site.

John & Jehn “Oh My Lover”

Though I enjoy the bolder points of Jehn’s voice as much as I ought to, the most captivating bits of her performance on this song are the small details. Specifically, I love the sound of her exhaling into the microphone at various points in the track. I like the pause, the implication of slight exhaustion, and the indication of letting a thought linger in the mind for a few moments before moving on to the next line. It suits the song very well, which comes across like some kind of dark fantasy, even without the spookier elements in the arrangement.

Click here for John & Jehn’s official blog.

Groupshow “The Future Looks Bright…Super Bright”

Groupshow’s compositions are totally zonked out, but at the same time, they are rather playful and imply a physicality that can be lacking in a lot of avant garde electronic music. I’m particularly fond of the way they can make very cartoonish sounds seem so mellow and pretty — few people can make a “boing!” noise come across as somewhat ethereal, but they pull it off. The (seemingly?) live percussion in this track is an inspired touch, making the entire track feel loose and jammed out, even if that is probably not the case.

Buy it from Amazon.

Peaches “Lose You”

This song just barely sounds like the Peaches we’ve all come to know over the course of this decade, but in the context of her new album it makes perfect sense, especially after the bolder but no less vulnerable and sincere “Talk To Me.” This is the “mature” Peaches — still bawdy and button-pushing, but willing to reveal herself as fragile now and then to great effect. For more thoughts on I Feel Cream, my review of the album is up on Pitchfork today.

Buy it from Amazon.