August 27th, 2013 12:43pm
“Neptune Estate” has a distinct feeling, and maybe you recognize it – lonely in the middle of the night, desperate for connection, lost in your head. It’s sexy too, and the lyrics about wanting to feel sexually used intensify that a bit, but also deepen the song’s melancholy feeling. There’s no separation of sex and self-loathing, and trauma just becomes some kind of turn-on. Which makes some sense, because for a lot of people true intimacy is letting someone else know exactly how messed up you are without being afraid.
The sexual and romantic side of “Neptune Estate” seems like a distraction; the main topic of the song is really depression, and living in fear of a totally numb emotional state in which “the brain lives on but the vibes are dead.” He just wants to feel something, to be intimate, to feel a little alive. That’s why he’s pleading with someone to stay with him one more night, that’s why he’s dwelling on things he know will make him miserable, that’s why he sounds so cynical when he asks “Can we lose our emotions and still live well?” The feelings may be too intense to handle, but it’s better than literally nothing.
August 22nd, 2013 12:30pm
It’s funny now for me to look back on Rose Elinor Dougall’s time in the Pipettes because that perky, hyper-assertive music is so far from where she’s gone as a solo artist. As she’s moved along, Dougall’s aesthetic has become increasingly dreamy and ethereal – not to the point of shoegazer-ish abstraction, but with this single she’s at least approaching the spacey formalism of late period Stereolab. “Strange Warnings” doesn’t have that sort of antiseptic, aloof quality though – Dougall puts a lot of heart into her vocals, even if in context she comes off as very shy and the music seems extraordinarily introverted.
August 21st, 2013 12:06pm
Unmade Bed is the new band featuring Dorian Cox, the guitarist and lyricist of The Long Blondes, one of the most underrated bands of the past decade. The new group is a natural progression from that body of work – he’s still obsessed with sex and glamor and seediness – but he’s dropped the punk and indie elements almost entirely in favor of fully embracing the dance and disco elements that he was playing with a bit on The Long Blonde’s final album “Couples”. To some extent, he’s responding to his new singer, and casting her in a role appropriate for her style and voice – whereas he typically played Kate Jackson as a bitter, unfaithful femme fatale, Hannah is presented as more of a sexually aggressive vamp type. In both cases, Cox humanizes his archetypes, and puts a lot of emphasis on the insecurities and fears that drive his characters without necessarily judging them. That last part is really crucial – he’s not asking anyone to pity or shame these characters, but to respect their realities and recognize yourself in them.
August 20th, 2013 11:59am
I can’t listen to this song without feeling convinced that Neko Case is singing about clinical depression. The hopelessness, the self-recrimination, the inertia, the alienation. The lyrics are the things you think and say to justify it all, because it feels like the only thing that is possible. Case’s voice keeps the song from tipping into grey, blank misery. There’s just something in her voice that always sounds strong and stubborn and authoritative, and there’s a suggestion in the way she delivers her lyrics – and the ambiguous, possibly optimistic chorus – that she has some distance on these feelings. “You never held it at the right angle”: Is that what you say to yourself to push yourself away from the negative thoughts, or what you tell someone else to convince them that your negative thoughts are the truth?
August 19th, 2013 1:00am
This is the kind of pop song that sounds like it was made specifically to be a jingle for the very concept of romantic love. It’s bold, catchy, and ecstatic – well, duh, it’s Basement Jaxx – but the feeling is almost a bit too pushy in terms of selling love as a miracle cure for depression. But that’s kinda how it is sometimes: It’s like a light switch flicking on in your head, and everything suddenly seems wonderful and vibrant. Sam Brookes’ vocal performance has a sort of zealotry to it – he’s testifying, he’s telling you how his whole world turned around, and he makes you feel envious. But he also makes it seem possible.
August 16th, 2013 12:26pm
Trent Reznor has spent the past several years exploring ambient instrumentals and dense, sometimes lushly arranged pop, so it’s interesting to hear him swing in another direction with the first few songs that have surfaced from Hesitation Marks. In a sense, he’s circled back to where he began on Pretty Hate Machine – very electronic, very immediately catchy, relatively minimal in sound if deceptively nuanced in terms of programming. But at the same time, a song like “Copy of A” is a million miles away from all that – the aggression is there but more muted, there’s far more negative space and implied tension, and though he’s still thinking about control and conformity, he seems more resigned than raging. I guess this is what aging is like, basically – you only become more like yourself with time, but your perspective keeps shifting.
August 15th, 2013 2:48am
I feel a little bad for Franz Ferdinand in that they’ve been a very consistent band over the past decade, but they’re at this sort of awkward phase of their career where they’re taken for granted and tied to a moment for which people aren’t particularly nostalgic right now. But we should not be ungrateful for a song as bouncy and clever as “Right Action” – this is expert-level groovy rock, pitched halfway between The Kinks and Duran Duran. The lyrics are fantastic too, sung from the perspective of a man who keeps getting drawn back to someone who may or may not be his ex because he’s sticking to the positive thinking mantra “right thoughts, right words, right action” in the hope that good intentions will somehow make everything work out, despite evidence to the contrary.
August 14th, 2013 12:14pm
Eric Copeland has a great skill for building tracks that give off a strong sleazy vibe without being tremendously obvious about it. He doesn’t go for stock musical signifiers, but creates a sweaty, furtive atmosphere. “Rokzi” is a perfect example: As you move through it, there’s this unshakeable feeling that something is not quite right. It’s like entering a place you know you shouldn’t, but then getting lost in it, and then trying to figure out how to get out of there.
August 13th, 2013 12:07pm
I’ve had trouble connecting with No Age’s records in the past because I’ve always perceived a strange diffidence at the center of their music and it undermined the energy and physicality of their punky songs. It seems obvious to me that their more ambient side was a more accurate representation of who they are – more introverted, less confrontational. Their third album, An Object, fully embraces this side of their music while also upping their game as songwriters, expanding their textural palette, and pushing the vocals up to the surface of the music. It’s a far more confident work, and a lot more emotionally rich. “An Impression,” a pretty but dead-eyed ballad, owes a lot to both Brian Eno and Wire: Delicate and emotionally fragile, but also icy and remote. I’m always fascinated by these kinds of songs — it’s the sound of a very stoic man allowing himself to feel something, but not too much.
August 8th, 2013 12:17pm
I have been thinking a lot lately about how much I envy singers and poets, because they have the license to say things with great emotional resonance that don’t have to make sense. I spend all of my time now writing things that are meant to be understood easily – I write about specific things, I write for a general audience, my job is focused on creating things that people might share. I like making things for other people, and at least in the sort of writing I mainly do, I strongly believe it should be made for other people’s benefit rather than just being entirely indulgent. Communication is the most important thing, but I feel more and more like there’s just a lot I don’t say, and now I don’t quite know what to do with it. I was listening to this song over and over yesterday, and thought a lot about how Grant-Lee Phillips words sketched out a feeling, some kind of situation, but it’s really all about the musicality. The dynamics creates the meaning. The sound of his voice creates the meaning. This is one of my favorite things about music – if you read enough of my writing, that should be clear – and right now it just leaves me with this envious feeling. I want that freedom, in some form. I want to get away from having to make sense all the time.
August 7th, 2013 4:32pm
I have used this song to open dozens of mix tapes and CDs over the years, mainly for musical reasons – the audience fade-in and ecstatic energy of it just feel like the beginning of something very exciting – but also thematic, as the lyrics openly delight in the glory of music. As with most songs sung by Ian Svenonius, there’s a thin line separating the hyperbolic humor and irony of his over-the-top performance and a dead serious belief in the core of what he’s saying. “Joy of Sound” isn’t merely an expression of “hey, I like music.” That is a boring and lame thing to say. He’s really talking about social codes, and asking if you’re willing to fully throw yourself into this music. He’s inviting you to truly experience this music with other people, and to let it push toward a greater connection, maybe a greater good. It’s intensely idealistic, so you’re going to have to be honest: Do you swear to tell the whole truth, and nothing but, so help you God? Would you put your hand on the book and take that vow right now?
August 5th, 2013 12:07pm
Beck @ Prospect Park Bandshell 8/4/2013
Devil’s Haircut / Black Tambourine / Soul of a Man / One Foot in the Grave / Tainted Love – Modern Guilt / Think I’m In Love – I Feel Love / Gamma Ray / Loser / Hotwax / Que Onda Guero / Girl / Soldier Jane / Chemtrails / The Golden Age / Lost Cause / Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometimes / Just Noise / Heaven’s Ladder / 14 Rivers 14 Floods / Sissyneck – Billie Jean // E-Pro / Where It’s At
Beck’s approach to setlists over the past few years boils down to: “Here is a totally delightful overview of my incredible body of work without anything from my masterpiece, Midnite Vultures.” (Or Mutations, for that matter.) I don’t feel aggrieved about this because his show is very, very good and entertaining, but it’s just getting to a point where it’s very confusing and strange that Beck himself seems to have negative feelings about this period of his work even if many, many people believe that it’s actually his finest era. It’s not as if a cut from either of those records wouldn’t have fit in – the show basically moved between four basic modes – blues-based rock, blank-eyed psychedelia, sad folky stuff, and goofy funk. It’s very impressive how well the set flows between these vibes: The shifts never seem jarring, though I did notice how much the freeform, silly lyrics of his mid-90s period differs from the most blunt and plainspoken words of his more recent material.
August 2nd, 2013 11:56am
I truly love how artless the lyrics of this song are – there’s almost no poetry to it, just a clear articulation of thoughts and feelings. It sounds almost as if she’s just setting an email or a series of texts to a tune, and singing it all with a heart-on-sleeve candor, and just a tiny bit of hesitation. But I guess it’s easier to be brave and say all this in a song, especially when you can just fill the awkward silences with “ba ba ba ba.” We don’t usually get that kind of buffer in real life.
August 1st, 2013 11:48am
This is a pretty simple and straight forward pop song about dating someone and not really being sure how they feel about you, and though that’s kind of a banal topic, the band nails the mood by conveying this perfect balance of mild angst and excited anticipation. “Is This How You Feel?” is never a bummer or too intense, but there’s a clear emotional investment in every moment of it, and there’s a sense that she’s pretty nervous about finding out the answer to that question, even if it’s the answer she’s hoping for.
July 30th, 2013 3:13am
This is one of the best constructed pop songs I have heard in a while. I was hesitant about this band and was thoroughly on board for this song within 20 seconds. This is just an extraordinarily efficient and meticulously crafted piece of pop machinery, but it doesn’t feel cold, clinical, or over-eager to bludgeon you hooks. Everything is balanced, and the emphasis is always firmly placed on the melody and the emotion of the vocals. When a record company asks a band to please go back and write a single, this is the platonic ideal they have in mind. It’s like Shania Twain, but if she was backed by Damn the Torpedoes-era Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, and produced by Lindsey Buckingham, and sung by three different women who all have a fantastic gift for phrasing. I could listen to this song forever, and probably will.
July 29th, 2013 11:45am
Daughn Gibson’s voice is sorta ridiculous, and there’s no getting around it – it’s deep and sonorous and masculine to such an extreme that it nearly comes off like a parody. If you want to flatter him, you’d compare him to Johnny Cash, but without intending to throw any shade whatsoever, I think he sounds a lot more like the dude from Crash Test Dummies. Like that guy, Gibson seems burdened by the weight of his own voice, but can’t help but indulge in its richness. “The Sound of Law” is a perfect vehicle for a voice like this – Gibson’s vocals add a touch of authority to this urgent, dramatic music, but also a touch of camp that keeps it from getting bogged down in seriousness.
July 26th, 2013 12:00pm
“There must be some finesse to self worth” is one of the most painful lyrics I’ve heard in a while, especially in the context of a song about a guy having an affair with a man who is married to a woman. The song is gorgeous – the piano is very Satie, but the melody and arrangement remind me a lot of Prince in his late ’80s ballad mode. The song kinda swoons and flutters, but the ache is so overwhelming. Just hearing it, you can understand the conflict of getting caught up in this intense romance while knowing that you’re giving up a lot of yourself and that there’s very little chance of it working out.
July 24th, 2013 12:22pm
I never really paid attention to Superchunk when I was a teenager in the 90s because compared to a lllllllll of the other major indie rock acts going at the time, they just sounded like a pretty normal band to me. And like, that’s what they were: A pretty normal rock band that had good songs. Flash forward to now, and they’ve barely changed, but suddenly they seem less normal. There’s not many good rock bands, much less great ones, and so now Superchunk truly stand out, and an energetic, ultra-catchy song like “FOH” is like a bucket of water in the middle of a drought. I don’t mean this to come off like a backhanded compliment: This isn’t just fun because there’s so little competition, I actually think Superchunk have improved a lot, and the elder statesman thing gives them an identity they didn’t quite have in their youth. I mean, this song is basically about being a rock and roll lifer, you know?
July 23rd, 2013 12:36pm
Earl Sweatshirt’s style is very well suited to very slooooooow beats where he can keep his cadence cold and steady, but not quite monotonous. “Hive” is one of these – an itchy, paranoid atmosphere, and a beat that seems to crawl along behind Earl, Casey, and Vince’s voices. The effect is a bit unnerving, and because the lyrics are so detailed and carefully constructed, it can feel a little like trying to pay close attention to something when you’re so dazed you can barely keep your eyes open.
July 22nd, 2013 12:23pm
Am I alone in thinking this song sounds like air conditioning feels? It’s in Ed Macfarlane’s voice, it’s in the keyboard tone, it’s in the groove, it’s in the timbre of the light cymbal hits. It feels cool and refreshing. It carries over to the mood of it too, in the way Macfarlane’s performance sounds like an overheated emotion that’s been put on ice. When the song really picks up and you get to that emotional/physical peak, it’s like experiencing the best of both worlds – hyperbolic feeling mixed with relaxation, physical exertion blended with a sense of relief. I can’t think of many songs from 2013 that feel anywhere near as good as this.
