Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Obi Best “Who Loves You Now”

“Who Loves You Now” falls on a very specific point in a post-break-up timeline: Enough time has passed to give the singer perspective and to have moved on at least a bit, but love and concern for her ex is still fresh in her mind. There’s no anger, just confusion and sentimentality, and frustration on what to do with this useless emotion stored up for a person who is now essentially absent or off-limits. Alex Lilly’s voice is sweet, but her affect is deliberately flat through much of the song, suggesting a distracted, shell-shocked state of mind. The song itself seems to hover and float from start to finish, drifting though moments of melancholy and optimism, slightly disconnected from reality but all the while knowing that it’s just about time to snap out of its funk.

Buy it from Amazon.

of Montreal @ Music Hall of Williamsburg 12/16/2008

Id Engager / So Begins Our Alabee / Triphallus, To Punctuate! / She’s A Rejecter / For Our Elegant Caste / Touched Something’s Hollow / An Eluardian Instance / Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse / Gallery Piece / Wraith Pinned To The Mist And Other Games / Women’s Studies Victims / St. Exquisite’s Confessions / Eros’ Entropic Tundra / Nonpareil Of Favor / October Is Eternal / Wicked Wisdom / Bunny Ain’t No Kind Of Rider / Knight Rider / And I Saw A Bloody Shadow / Plastis Wafer / Beware Our Nubile Miscreants / Mingusings / Al Na Wayo / A Sentence Of Sorts In Kongsvinger // Gronlandic Edit / Oslo In The Summertime / American Girl (Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers cover)

Compared to of Montreal’s epic multimedia extravaganza at the Roseland Ballroom in October, this concert at the relatively tiny Music Hall of Williamsburg was a stripped down, lightly theatrical affair. That said, in comparison to the vast majority of bands on the touring circuit, the show was quite a spectacle. It all depends on your level of expectation, I suppose.

Without a doubt, it is more exciting and fulfilling to witness the full production of the group’s current show. It is undoubtedly a richer, more complete work of art, and the performance pieces and additional video art are funny, thoughtful, exciting, and add to or complement the lyrical themes. That said, the songs and the band’s performances are strong enough that it is not actually necessary for a satisfying concert experience. In some ways, the relative absence of spectacle made it easier to sink deep within the songs, and to emphasize a more personal experience with the material than to keep one’s mind focused on the narrative appearing on stage. Of course, much of the band’s appeal comes down to that sort of strong personal identification — ultimately, this is deep investment is why the audience is so fanatical and energetic.

of Montreal “Mingusings”

The first few verses of “Mingusings” rank among my favorite bits in Kevin Barnes’ body of work, in part for the very sound of it, but mostly because I find myself identifying closely with the words. I tend to relate to most of what Kevin writes, even when it’s rather far off from own life experience, but without explicating too much, there are a few lines in “Mingusings” that hit especially close to home, at least before they bounce off into another tangent. That bounce is part of what makes it work for me, though — it’s often enough to just echo something in your head, but it’s even better to push the thought to different conclusions, whether it’s wanting to fire all your friends and start your life over again, willing future triumph into existence, or inexplicably changing the topic to something about the intersection of technology and fiction.

Buy it from Polyvinyl Records.

Rose Elinor Dougall “May Holiday”

Much like her previous single “Another Version Of Pop Song,” “May Holiday” finds Rose Elinor Dougall attempting to reconcile the happy romance and stability of a relationship in the present tense with the nagging anxiety of wondering where she will be in the future, and what she will think of her life now in retrospect. The emotional tone of the piece is pitched perfectly between affectionate sweetness and melodramatic melancholy, particularly as the arrangement builds to a cinematic peak without getting overly sappy.

Visit Rose Elinor Dougall’s MySpace page.

Zooey “Father To A Sister Of Thought”

On the Zooey site, the duo mention that they’ve been singing this song in the shower for years. Hey, me too! It’s been one of my go-to sing-to-myself-when-I’m-alone songs for most of my life now, and in doing that, I’ve noticed that it’s a wonderfully malleable melody that rewards light improvisation and a variety of readings that bleed into genres. Zooey clearly noticed this as well. The tone of their cover is very faithful to that of the Pavement original, but it is technically transposed to another genre, a sort of mellow, keyboard-driven modern lounge pop. I’m very fond of their added harmonies, but I wish they had not omitted the riff at the end, and the “I know I’ll never know” outro.

Visit Zooey’s official site.

The Voluntary Butler Scheme “Foolish”

Much in the way that the previous Voluntary Butler Scheme track featured on this site used the Jackson 5’s “I Want You Back” as a starting point for a song that skewed in a slightly different direction, “Foolish” adapts a rhythmic hook from Booker T and the MGs’ “Time Is Tight” as the basis of a tune that otherwise sounds like vintage British Invasion. Rob Jones, the man behind this music, has a natural talent for pastiche, and also for modernizing his tracks just enough to make them seem fresh, clean, and new without necessarily forcing winks or putting huge quotation marks around each and every note.

Visit the Voluntary Butler Scheme’s MySpace page.

A.C. Newman “Submarines of Stockholm”

At this point, we know what to expect from a record penned by Carl Newman, and that’s no bad thing. Though “Submarines of Stockholm” is comprised mainly of familiar Newman songwriting tics, the composition has an aggressive, chopping guitar motif and subtly seasick percussion that leaves it feeling distinct, memorable, and slightly uncomfortable despite its ingratiating melodies.

Pre-order it from Matador Records.

Deerhoof “Snoopy Waves”

In another world, John Dieterich is playing guitar in a much more mainstream band than Deerhoof, but I suppose that world is also a bit more dull. Dieterich’s playing is loose, slick, melodic, and restless, and serves as a fine counterpoint to the trio’s more child-like and/or abrasive impulses. The guitar parts throughout Offend Maggie are exceptionally crisp and vibrant, but I’m most partial to the way his grooves and leads fall together in “Snoopy Waves,” a composition that briskly moves through several phases, as if to compress an entire day’s worth of emotions into a two minute song.

Buy it from Kill Rock Stars.

Julia Holter “Moto Perpetuo”

Holter’s composition sounds like a cross between a music box and a video game, and implies a tiny, delicate, finite world, like a snow globe or a level within a game. It’s pretty and sweet, but obviously artificial in a way that reminds us of the messy reality of our own world, but also that it’s necessary to imagine and invent these alternate realities. Also: Hey, look! This song’s title is very similar to my given name.

Buy it from Amazon. Go here for more information about Julia Holter.

Ella Fitzgerald “What Are You Doing New Years Eve?” (Mangini Vs. Pallin Mix)

This remix doesn’t change the mood and tone of Fitzgerald’s original recording so much as enhance it to the point that its glossy, over the top artifice becomes a bit surreal, and charming in and of itself. In other words: Yo dawg I herd you like nostalgic whimsy so we put nostalgic whimsy in yo romance so you can be nostalgically whimsical while U romance!

Buy itfrom Amazon.

Anya Marina “Afterparty At Jimmy’s”

This feels cartoonish, in a good way. Even though it’s not entirely true, the guitar sounds like it’s nothing but a single, stabbing down stroke chord repeated forever, or at least until the player takes a break for a moment of awkward noodling in, as Noel Gallagher would say, “a Wayne’s World stylee.” Marina’s voice is even more exaggerated, warping her sexy rock bad girl front into something weirdly Muppet-ish at points. (This muppet.)

Buy it from Amazon.

Clipse “Intro”

“Intro” is a misleading title for this track, at least in the sense that it implies that it’s not in fact a full, complete song but rather a skippable bit at the start of a record. This is definitely not the case. The track is lifted whole from Fabolous and Junior Reed’s “Gangsta Don’t Play,” a simple, mellow composition that leaves plenty of space for Malice and Pusha T’s careful wordplay. As always, the duo specialize in tight verses that never feel over-written despite their meticulous construction. True to the title, the lyrics of “Intro” are primarily concerned with reintroducing the primary theme of Clipse songs — their proficiency at both rhyming and selling cocaine — while allowing for a brief meditation on their lack of major commercial success without getting all self-pitying about their inability to score a radio hit since their debut single.

Get it from Complex.

Justice “We Are Your Friends” (Live in San Francisco, 2008)

It was a pretty good decision for Justice to record their live set in a way that included the audience as much as possible, even if the actual recording is weirdly lo-fi for an officially released album. A straight mix of their live set would’ve been almost entirely pointless — it’s mostly just tweaked versions of the songs on their only album — but with the audible audience, you get a sense of the excitement they are generating, and the ways the duo’s music and approach to performance is far closer to the aesthetic of arena rock than a typical DJ group. The chorus of “We Are Your Friends” is sung almost entirely by the audience, which makes perfect sense musically and lyrically — the genius of those words comes from how it taps into and then amplifies the over-inflated sense of togetherness of otherwise lonely people dancing in a club, or a rock show. In this context, it could just as well be “We Are Your Fans,” as the sentiment feels just as much like a connection between the DJs and their audience. This is a great document, but I would’ve preferred it in video form, to get a feeling for the place, the people, and the lighting. Ironically, this is from part of set that also includes a dvd, but that dvd mostly skips live footage in favor of backstage documentary reportage and enough leering shots of cute young hipster girls to fill out a few months worth of Last Night’s Party galleries.

Buy it from Amazon.

Bell @ Music Hall of Williamsburg, 12/8/2008 (Gummy Awards)

Housefire / Echinacea / Brown Bear / The Miner / New Bridge / Suerte Loca / Hero

Bell “Brown Bear”

The latest incarnation of Olga Bell’s live band entirely omits guitar and bass, and emphasizes rhythm and electronic instrumentation. Whereas the guitars thickened her songs and maximized the impact of their most dramatic moments, her frequent collaborators Jason Nazary and Gunnar Olsen loosen up the material with nimble percussion and generally more nuanced accompaniment. Both approaches have their merits — certainly, the versions from earlier in the year had a greater appeal for mainstream and rock fans — but this current take seems more true to the spirit of Olga and her general aesthetic. “Echinacea” and “Brown Bear” came off especially well with the new arrangements, as the players were better able to capture the weightless feeling essential to the compositions.

Nevertheless, as astonishing as Olga and her band can be, some of the music can still seem like a work in progress, primarily due to the impression that they are overthinking and over-arranging the songs. In the case of “Housefire” and “The Miner,” strong melodic parts were altered somewhat or avoided entirely, as if to deliberately tone down their emotional weight. The arrangement of “Hero” smothered its simple, affecting melody beneath far too many elements, and sort of begged to be pared down to essentials. Also, despite being blessed with a lovely, expressive, and technically proficient voice, Olga has a tendency to lean too hard on electronic vocal effects. The effects can work quite well, but ought to be employed in moderation.

Also, if you were wondering: Yes, it’s very difficult for me to hear the song “New Bridge” without thinking of the Best Show on WFMU.

Buy it from Bell.

Deerhunter @ Music Hall of Williamsburg, 12/8/2008 (Gummy Awards)

Cryptograms / Never Stops / Dr. Glass / Hazel Street / Nothing Ever Happened / Saved By Old Times / Octet / Microcastle / Vox Celeste / Operation / Twilight at Carbon Lake // Cover Me Slowly / Agoraphobia / Strange Lights

These guys again, right? I don’t know how they do it, but each show I see Deerhunter play is about 20% better than the one previous. I imagine the actual quality of this performance was not enormously different from the one that I saw last month, but the Music Hall has far better sound than the Bowery Ballroom, and Bradford Cox was in an especially silly mood, so that kinda puts it over. Also, this show included “Saved By Old Times”!

Deerhunter “Saved By Old Times (Platts Eyott Session)”

I find myself to be consistently moved by the phrase “Saved By Old Times” as Bradford sings it in the song, even if there’s more than a little ambiguity to what it means in and out of context. I mostly interpret the line as a way of expressing the comfort and consolation of connecting with the art of another era. As in, you may be dissatisfied with the present tense for any variety of reasons, but inspiration from the past can be a guide to working your way into the future. In this way, it’s like a mission statement for the band — pull what you can from the old times, but keep moving forward.

Buy it from Amazon.

Belle & Sebastian “Slow Graffiti” (BBC session version)

Ten years ago, this song could kill me. Nowadays, it just sorta maims. The thing is, I’m not entirely sure why. I have not ever, at any point in my life, directly related to the song’s protagonist, though his plight certainly taps into some of my own worst fears. At the start of the song, he’s imagining a portrait of himself twenty years into the future. The lyric then shifts to a first person account of a man passively slumping through a dull life in which he tends to a girlfriend who comes across as something of a mess. Then the perspective shifts again, this time affectionately chastising the character for being “like a mother to the girl you’ve fallen for, and you’re still falling.” It’s funny that I’m only just now noticing the shift in perspective — which I suppose means that the second section is the imagined future, and the finale has him speaking to his vision of his future self — but had always intuited its conclusion as being this cutting bit of self-criticism that trails off into an abbreviated instrumental digression before returning to the thought once more.

Buy it from Matador Records.

Orchestre Poly-Rythmo De Cotonou “Se Tche We Djo Mon”

The particular guitar tone in this track is among the best I’ve ever heard in all my time listening to music. It’s a rather bright sound that perfectly accentuates the trebly notes of its nimble solos, and brings a clean, lightly metallic clang to its brisk rhythmic hook. That rhythm part is especially hypnotic in combination with the persistent hi-hat clatter of the percussion, which glides along at a quick clip, but leaves the middle range of the composition wide open for the arrangement’s more subtle elements.

Buy it from Analog Africa.

If you only read this site via RSS feed, you should take note of the first part of the 2008 retrospective in this week’s Fluxcast. It’s the closest thing you’re going to get to a year-end thing from me, unless you want to count my Pazz and Jop ballot, which you probably shouldn’t.

Think About Life “Cyanide”

“Cyanide” is about panic and confusion, but it somehow feels loose and calm despite its anxiety and tension. Maybe it’s like being in the eye of the storm, or finding some peace amid chaos. Listening to the track, it seems as though it could just explode at any moment or build to some catharsis, but instead, the track just sorta stops, letting the mood run its course without a hint of what could happen next.

Visit the Think About Life website.

Barbara Morgenstern “Reich & Berühmt”

As far as I can tell, “Reich & Berühmt” is sung in German except for a line in English. Understandably as a non-German speaker, the English line is the one that catches my ear: “Dance the night away if you want to be part of it.” I have no sense of the line’s context, but I’m intrigued by the decision to have that particular sentiment sung in another language, and wonder if it is somehow intended for the segment of Morgenstern’s audience who speak English but cannot understand German. Either way, this is not really a dancing song, but instead something more melancholy and lost in its own head. It’s not “part of it,” but removed, aloof, and physically and/or emotionally removed from the room full of dancing people.

Buy it from Amazon.

Clue To Kalo “User To A Carrier (By The Sister)”

Each of the songs on Clue To Kalo’s forthcoming album Lily Perdida examine the title character from the perspective of other people in her life, yielding a complete picture of a person out of often conflicting fragments of information and contradicting experiences. It’s a clever idea, though the odd density of the lyrics can make the broader themes about identity and community a bit difficult to engage without following the lyric sheet in the album’s booklet. The music is quite another matter, as its best songs roll on with lovely, breezy melodies that often follow the winding curves of English folk, and are executed with the style and grace of Elliott Smith and early Belle & Sebastian. The vocals can get a bit too thin at times, but when it snaps together, the reserved performances suit the tone just fine.

Buy it from Mush Records.

A few notes on last night’s Indie Karaoke show hosted by Andrew WK, and featuring Ted Leo and the Pharmacists:

1) Andrew WK and Ted Leo are both, as my friend Chris notes, unequivocal forces for good in this world. Young rock musicians would be wise to follow their example of marrying positive energy and solid principles to artistic craft and everyman appeal rather than to end up like, you know, this.

2) Ted Leo and the Pharmacists’ new material is very strong, probably their best work since Hearts of Oak. Yes, it basically sounds like Ted Leo music, but it’s sharp and immediately catchy, and the song Ted described as being like “black metal dancehall” is a clear winner.

3) There were some really wonderful performances in the karaoke set. Much respect to the guys who did the Outfield song, “Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap),” and “Minor Threat,” but it’s safe to say that the obvious highlight was this awesome woman named Abigail who absolutely killed it on “Respect.” She was just astounding, and had enough charisma, confidence, and vocal power that if she doesn’t already have a band of her own, she’d better start one right away.

4) Of course, there were some lame performances as well. Look, I know it’s mean to be overly critical of karaoke performances and that Andrew WK would probably not approve of me saying this, but if you’re going to get to the venue super early to sign up for a song, you should be prepared to sing it, and have heard the song at least once in the past ten years. Anything less, particularly in a scenario in which a lot of people would’ve liked to sing but didn’t get the chance because it was first-come first-serve, is just insulting to everyone else in the room. Specifically, I am talking about those two assholes who did “Dancing With Myself.” They should be ashamed of themselves.

Kate Miller-Heidke “Can’t Shake It”

There are so many songs that encourage people to dance, or go on about how totally awesome dancing is, and relatively few that express a powerful nervousness about dancing, and feeling horrible about one’s inability to loosen up and move in a way that is not thoroughly embarrassing. This is particularly odd given just how many people feel awful about their body, or have no idea what to do with themselves when confronted with loud, beat-centric music. If you fall into that category, Kate Miller-Heidke feels your pain, and she’s singing about it too. “Can’t Shake It” is all self-deprecating humor and cute irony, and though it touches on valid, potent anxieties, the song keeps a clear-eyed, light-hearted perspective on the problem.

Buy it via Kate Miller-Heidke’s official site.

Polly Scattergood “Nitrogen Pink”

“Nitrogen Pink” plays out like an epic story, like a Kate Bush variation on “Born To Run,” but the lyrics side-step any sort of narrative in favor of vivid, disconnected imagery, and a dramatic build toward an abstracted catharsis. Despite its stadium-sized grandeur, most of its sounds are atypical or counter-intuitive, contributing to the sense that the piece is like a replica of something that maybe does not exist. Scattergood’s voice carries the song through each new dramatic plateau, emoting convincingly while occasionally lapsing into a cracked, cynical tone that recalls the singing of Dan Bejar.

Buy it from Amazon.

Fol Chen “Cable TV”

The protagonist of “Cable TV” is dead broke, but has just enough money to treat her sweetheart to an day of relative luxury at a cheap motel in the middle of the desert. The song is delivered in a familiar sort of flat, cool-girl deadpan, but it’s less about conveying a condescending distance from the character and her situation, and more about communicating something along the lines of “Hey, I know this is ridiculous, but let’s make our own fun, even if it involves watching television in a place other than our apartment.” If anything, the ironic humor only makes the song sweeter by contrasting tight financial limitations with the genuine comfort and affection of the couple, particularly when they start dancing in their underwear to old Janet Jackson hits. In other words, fun and love trump glamor and wealth.

Pre-order it from Asthmatic Kitty.

R.E.M. “Harborcoat” (Live in Toronto, 1983)

I’ve already written about this song at length, so let’s just for a moment focus on sound of this particular recording, and by extension, the entire concert included with the new reissue of Murmur. One of the most appealing elements of R.E.M.’s earliest recordings is the way Peter Buck’s chords and notes ring and chime with this sort of disarming clarity, as if you are hearing something precise and impossibly clean in contrast with the muddled, unmistakably human quality of Michael Stipe’s voice. That sound comes through in this live performance, but it is filtered through the energy and urgency of being young dudes playing in a rock club, resulting in slightly mutated versions of by now incredibly familiar songs. Today, Murmur and Reckoning seem like records that have somehow always existed despite belonging to a particular time and place, but this live disc is a good reminder that they were the work of a hungry young band who just happened to become brilliant craftsmen only a few years into their career.

Buy it from Insound.

Also, as a bonus for you, I’ve set up a little R.E.M.-centric contest with the people at Insound. Basically, if you go here, you can enter to win a copy of the new R.E.M. coffee table book Hello: Photographs by David Belisle, which is one of the featured items in their holiday gift guide. There’s never been a better time to support indie retail, so go check that out.

Marnie Stern @ Music Hall of Williamsburg 11/28/2008 and Santo’s Party House 11/30/2008 (same setlist both shows)

Transformer / The Crippled Jazzer / Shea Stadium / Steely / Precious Metal / Vibrational Match / Prime / Ruler / Grapefruit / Vault / Every Single Line Means Something

When you consider the fact that a lot of rock and roll musicians don’t play with very many other musicians, and often spend most if not all of their career working with players who they stumbled into by chance — childhood friends, local acquaintances, people who answer ad listings — actual creative chemistry can be sort of miraculous. I’m not talking about just getting along and being able to play together competently — I mean, like, needle-in-a-haystack, artistic soulmate, complete-each-other chemistry. I’m talking about what Marnie Stern and Zach Hill have going for them.

In an alternate universe, Marnie Stern plays with some musicians who aren’t up to her level, and it drags her down. She has to compromise a bit, or maybe it’s the same, and it’s sloppier, or just less nimble. In another alternate universe, she’s paired with players who are just as good or better than she is, but their vibe is more uptight, and it saps some of the joy and thrill power from her songs. In yet another alternative universe, Marnie Stern never gets it sorted with other musicians, and she never really gets anywhere on her own. In our universe, she works with Zach Hill, and he matches her creativity, energy, and spirit without overshadowing her personality.

In concert, they lock in with their second guitarist Mark Shippey on some tight compositions, but despite the demanding nature of the individual parts, they never seem to be working hard. In fact, if you watch their body language, they seems almost freakishly casual. Hill in particular has an exaggerated looseness to his movement that disconnects somewhat from the precision of his performance. At many times through each of the shows, he looked more like a guy hanging out around a drum kit than a dude mercilessly pounding out fills and switching up beats. Stern’s on stage persona is a wonderful blend of silliness, enthusiasm, and intensity. Even when she’s clearly sick, as she was in the Manhattan show, she communicates this pure excitement for rocking out that in my experience is surprisingly rare. It’s so nice to watch a band have a good time, and to be fully aware that what they’re doing is awesome, and that it’s even more awesome that they get to do it.

(This is totally embarrassing in light of how I wrote this review, but uh, that actually wasn’t Zach Hill. Check the comments.)

Marnie Stern “Transformer”

For about two hours after the show in Brooklyn, I couldn’t get the main hook from “Transformer” out of my head: “I cannot be all these things to you, it’s true.” The lyric is terrific in print, but as with any good song, the music adds a meaning words alone could never convey. It’s all in the way “iiiiit’s truuue!” extends out slightly, as if climbing a steep incline and dropping like a roller coaster. There is anticipation and thrill, but also this maybe-unintentional nod to Sisyphus rolling a boulder up a hill, and having it roll right back down. The thing is, “Transformer” is a song that confronts futility and limitation head-on, and in doing so, sorta games the system, and finds a way toward triumph. In other words, when she sings “it’s true!,” you kinda get the sense that this time, against all odds, Sisyphus wins, and the boulder doesn’t just stay in place at the top of the hill, but instead rolls down the other side and becomes someone else’s problem.

Buy it from Amazon.

Architecture In Helsinki “That Beep”

“That Beep” is overflowing with immediately enjoyable hooks and melodic turns, but it’s far from overstuffed. The track is clean and spacious, and it moves gracefully from one bit to the next in a way that never seems even remotely fragmented. The connecting thread, and I suppose it is technically the dominant hook, is the “beepbeepbeepbeep” chorus, but to my ears it works more like a mellow refrain bracketing the more expressive moments in the song, particularly the sections that slip into this sort of neo-80s ersatz gospel mode. Kellie Sutherland’s voice is wonderful on this song,

especially in the way she comes off as assertive while shying away from extreme feelings, and leaning more on very nuanced phrasings that subtly shift her meaning and emotional context from line to line, or even from word to word.

Buy it from Architecture In Helsinki.

Lil’ Wayne and The Game “Red Magic”

I don’t really spend a lot of time with hip hop mixtapes, mainly because I just get so totally annoyed by the voice overs and/or audio clips that get mixed all up and through them. In the case of this new Lil’ Wayne mixtape, you have to deal with these stupid, highly aggravating clips of some guy saying stuff like “The Empire!” and “Holy s–t, where’d you get this?” In most cases, it totally ruins the song, and renders them unlistenable. Thankfully, whoever was charged with editing in those announcements in this particular number at least had the sense to slip them in so that they were mostly on the beat, and didn’t get in the way of music so much. It’s lucky, really — “Red Magic” is certainly the best cut on the mixtape, not simply for its abundances of hooks, but for its sharp guest performance from The Game, and it’s definitely good enough that I can deal with this Empire douchebag.

Get it from this Sharebee link.

Kanye West “Paranoid”

I’m going to be honest with you: My first impressions of 808s and Heartbreak were pretty bad. At one point only a week ago I was throwing around hyperbolic phrases such as “aesthetic abomination” to describe it. Despite being put off by its abundance of autotuned vocals, it was immediately apparent to me that it could easily be someone’s favorite album, and so I resolved to give the record a fair shot. I kept with it, and it won me over gradually over the course of a few days, and then suddenly all at once as my ambivalence transformed into full-on love in the span of a couple hours.

It happened like this: At first, it all seemed very homogenous, but then I started flicking through and gravitating to interesting bits of sound, particularly in tracks like “Street Lights” and “Robocop.” Then I began to notice the variations in vocal effects, and realized that West was not just slipping into a standard T-Pain autotune autopilot, but was instead employing carefully considered tones and effects in order to achieve specific results of a piece with the goals of the entire arrangements. It’s so easy to think of autotune as being this crass, ugly production fad that seems to pop up almost exclusively in terrible songs, but West does so much on 808s and Heartbreak to redeem the very sound of it, and exploit it in ways that owe a debt to other artists who have toyed with vocal effects, but also seem specific to himself, and the particular, highly defined aesthetic of the album.

Ultimately, the thing that unlocked the album for me was the presence of warm, unfiltered vocals on the tracks “Paranoid” and “Street Lights.” They are crucial for both context and contrast, and sit on the far end of a very deliberate continuum of vocal expression on the record. In “Street Lights,” West’s vocals are recognizably human, but are shadowed by a particular grain of digital distortion that somewhat emulates the persistent ambient wash of white noise in a shoegazer song. That sound is complemented by an array of similarly woozy keyboard textures that leave the arrangement sounding like a cross between U2 and My Bloody Valentine before adding in some absolutely gorgeous gospel harmonies. West’s voice becomes more stiffly rhythmic and melancholic as the song progresses, contrasting dramatically with the passionate, largely wordless vocalizations of his backing singers.

“Paranoid” has a similar vocal dichotomy, but the composition is far more colorful and upbeat, thanks in part to keyboard parts straight out of French house music and inspired, nuanced synth-pop drum programming that owes a clear debt to the likes of Erasure, Depeche Mode, and New Order. “Paranoid” is a moment of relative levity in the middle of an otherwise down-hearted and bitter set of songs, and though it touches on the running theme of romantic distress and dissolution, its tone is more easygoing, conciliatory, and self-assured than its neighboring tracks. This comes across in the tones of keyboards and drum machines, but also in the way West’s largely rapped vocals slip casually in and out of autotune flourishes, and sit comfortably alongside some rather stunning R&B backing vocals on the chorus. The song gives off the aura of supreme confidence and style familiar from West’s previous records, but it does not contradict the sadness and confusion at its heart, or avoid the compelling yet occasionally appalling self-absorbed pettiness that comes through in nearly all of the record’s tracks.

In genre terms, “Paranoid” is a queer mutant, but it flows so naturally in these crisp, clean waves of pleasure that its distinctive arrangement is sort of a non-issue. The very presence of the autotune effect on the song seems very matter of fact, just one more particular and carefully selected sound among many, and then, boom, suddenly the entire album falls into line. Even the most drastic usage of autotune, often employed as a sort of distancing device, seems natural and brilliant rather than gimmicky and lame.

Buy it from Amazon.

Wiley & Daniel Merriweather “Cash In My Pocket”

Musicians, take note: It is probably a very good idea for you to write catchy songs about being broke and/or desperately wanting money right about now. They don’t have to be miserable, mind you — it’s probably for the best to lean in the direction of this Wiley single, which balances out the frustration of insolvency with a perky, can-do optimism. Wiley’s verses are energetic and enjoyable, but his lyrics are largely beside the point — he’s basically just doing a hip hop stock move, i.e. “I come from nothing, but I’ve made some money from my music, and so I will flaunt it a bit without forgetting my roots.” The real action is in Mark Ronson’s musical arrangement and Daniel Merriweather’s chorus, the latter providing the bulk of the song’s emotional resonance, and the former lending the track a jolting sense of urgency. When the galloping beat overlaps with Merriweather’s white boy soul — actually, his voice sounds more than a little bit like that of Damon Albarn — the song just sparks, and kinda zaps you into its hustling state of mind.

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Anjulie “Love Songs”

“Love Songs” is a pretty straightforward admission of susceptibility to stock romantic narratives and iconography, particularly when the fantasy is tied into wealth and social position. It’s not a critique, mind you — it’s a sweet song about being sentimental and wanting affection and lovely things — but there’s certainly an awareness of class and privilege that bleeds into its wistful longing for the easy drama and happy endings of post-Hollywood fiction. That awareness is key to the song’s appeal — it keeps it feeling humble and non-demanding, and the bit of distance makes it all feel a bit less sad, and more like the work of a person familiar with — and wary of — the concept of aspirational branding.

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Electric Six @ Webster Hall 11/22/2008

(Flashy intro) / Flashy Man / It’s Showtime! / We Were Witchy Witchy White Women / Down At McDonnelzzz / Gay Bar / Night Vision / Lenny Kravitz / Dirty Ball / Rock and Roll Evacuation / Improper Dancing / Danger! High Voltage / The Future Is In The Future / Your Heat Is Rising / I Buy The Drugs / Dance Epidemic / (Reggae skanking with banter) / Germans In Mexico // Gay Bar Part Two / She’s White / Formula 409 / Dance Commander

Some notes:

* Dick Valentine came out for “Flashy Man” wearing a red cape with the word “Flashy” in silver, glittering script. When they finished playing the song, he removed that cape to reveal a purple cape with the word “Showtime” on the back, which led to them going into “It’s Showtime!” Ah, the old double-cape trick!

* Ever since Barack Obama was elected to the be the next president, I had been wondering what Valentine was going to do about “Rock and Roll Evacuation,” an E6 concert staple that climaxes with the lines “Mr. President, make a little money sending people you don’t know to Iraq / Mr. President, I don’t like you — you don’t know how to ROCK!” Valentine addressed these concerns before performing the song, saying that they are still going to play it, and that in his mind, the song was always going to be about Bush. He then bellowed “Bush!” a few times, sorta like Captain Kirk shouting “Khan!” in the second Star Trek movie, and the band launched into the tune.

* As per usual, the Electric Six audience is a rowdy bunch. In this particular show, there was a lot of stage diving, though mostly from this one woman who must’ve gotten up on stage about 15 times over the course of the set. Later in the show, a big dude tried to get up there, but was promptly taken away by some security guards. After that, a skinny, confused-looking Asian girl in high heels got up there, and Valentine took her and placed her in the corner behind the drums. She came back out, and Valentine put her back there again.

* I very much wish that I could have a recording of every live rendition of “The Future Is In The Future” over the course of an entire Electric Six tour just so I could hear all the variations on Valentine’s mid-song breakdown banter. It always seems to follow the same basic formula — Valentine claims that his drummer was born someplace in the vicinity of the venue and makes some sort of comment on his class relative to that place. At the Bowery Ballroom last year, his drummer was a rich kid from Westchester County who had been given the best drum lessons money could buy, and this time, he was a working class guy from Asbury Park, New Jersey who was buying up real estate on the Lower East Side. I’m definitely underselling these bits in describing them — they are totally hilarious, pointed, and strange.

Electric Six “Flashy Man”

Alexyss K. Tylor’s Atlanta-based public access Vagina Power shows are often concerned — nay, obsessed! — with a sort of absurd hyper-masculinity that is perfectly simpatico with the Electric Six’s long-running satire of grotesque manliness and all its corresponding or conflicting neuroses. The concept of the “Flashy Man” is lifted directly from quotes and samples from Tylor’s most famous clip on YouTube, in which she describes a supremely confident, highly promiscuous, and sexually talented man who seems to exist only to shame and cuckold milder men, and to satisfy women physically, but not spiritually or emotionally. The “Flashy Man” is essentially a soulless man of action, and though we may find a vicarious thrill in his exploits, the undertow of the song comes in realizing that we do not and cannot have his swagger, and that his very existence triggers insecurity and doubt. The inner life of the “Flashy Man” is almost entirely irrelevant — he may bury, obscure or drown out his emotions, but in the song, that’s mostly just a projection of a desire of the non-flashy man, who is hobbled and emasculated by his own humanity.

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Jensen Sportag “Power Sergio”

There’s very little in “Power Sergio” that doesn’t feel familiar, which is kinda the point. It’s a warm, comforting disco cocoon, a place to hide out when everything feels hopeless and wrong. Disco music is very often pitched as escapist fare, but the tension in “Power Sergio” is basically, what happens to that music when it’s always the same escape? When the place you go to get away from trouble becomes home, and the distinctions between the good and bad parts of your life begin to blur there? The melancholy at the heart of the song doesn’t recede at all — if anything, the awareness of the sadness is intensified by the self-conscious attempt to dance it all away.

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Appaloosa “The Day We Fell In Love”

The day a couple falls in love is split into the time before and after that moment, and so this song emulates that in its structure. The opening section is fragile and slightly awkward as it tiptoes around feelings, unsure of how to articulate powerful emotions. The second section is blissed-out and relieved as it drifts off, repeating a mantra that’s more like a subtitle to the emotional action: “Two hearts unchained, flying.” In other words, by the end of the song, we have all feeling, and much less thinking.

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Takka Takka “Everybody Say”

If the music of “Everybody Say” had to be translated into punctuation, it’d be something like a long set of ellipsis contained within parentheses. The composition is gorgeous, particularly in the way it balances taut rhythmic motifs with delicate accents and shimmering leads that come together to imply an expanding yet nevertheless confined space. The emotional content of the piece primarily comes from the tension of having a focus and goal, but feeling totally adrift, and unable to make sense of the space between where you are, and where you want to be. The entire song is like being lost in thought, trying to process conflicting bits of information and emotion, and attempting to figure out how to suss out some sort of mature, adult response.

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