Radiohead “Separator”

I think that The King of Limbs is a good and interesting record, but there’s no question that it’s also Radiohead’s weakest album. (Yes, Pablo Honey is better.) But you know, they don’t all have to be masterpieces, and it’s about time Radiohead deflated audience expectations a bit and loosened up enough to put out a relatively minor record. As far as I am concerned, this band has put out more than enough major works that if they want to spend the rest of their career releasing just-okay experimental albums, I am totally fine with it.

The King of Limbs is basically the opposite of In Rainbows. In Rainbows is so melodic, so easy to enjoy, so well rounded. Limbs has its moments of beauty but it mostly rejects pop structure and hooks. It emphasizes rhythm, but its beats often sputter or clang together in awkward ways. It’s heavy on atmosphere and mood, but the mood isn’t especially pleasant. The album mostly evokes the feeling of being a bit out of it on medication for a nasty head cold. To some extent, we’ve heard Radiohead toy with similar musical ideas in the past, mostly on non-album tracks, but it’s still very much an experimental work for them. One thing is very clear: All of the members of Radiohead are taking risks on this record, but none of them are playing to their strengths as musicians.

The King of Limbs reminds of those times when an established actor takes a part that is outside of their range and it doesn’t quite work. (Especially comedians taking SERIOUS roles.) You’re watching them thinking about how good they are when they do their regular thing, and only notice the stretching on screen, not the character they are portraying. It’s admirable as an artistic endeavor in some ways, but it’s often just the narcissism of a performer who wants more respect or to prove that they can do anything.

Melody isn’t absent from Limbs, it’s just not emphasized. The prettiest, most melodic tracks come at the end — “Give Up the Ghost” and “Separator.” When the latter song comes on, it feels like you’re suddenly snapping out of the record’s weird daze. The beat is more assertive, the melody is much bolder, the arrangement seems brighter and more colorful. The lyrics match the sound, with Yorke singing about waking up from “a long, weary dream.” He sings that he is free from a weight that he’s been carrying and he sounds genuinely relieved and relaxed. Maybe in the future we’ll look back at this song as a meta commentary on his career: It’s the sound of the band shaking off the weight of being such an Important Band, and moving on as a band that’s actually encouraged to explore, stumble and sometimes fail.

Buy it from Radiohead.

Lady Gaga @ Boardwalk Hall, Atlantic City, NJ 2/19/2011

Dance in the Dark / Glitter and Grease / Just Dance / Beautiful Dirty Rich / The Fame / LoveGame / Boys Boys Boys / Money Honey / Telephone / You and I / So Happy I Could Die / Monster / Teeth / Allejandro / Poker Face / Paparazzi // Bad Romance /// Born This Way

My main takeaway from seeing Lady Gaga in concert is that she’s a fantastic rock star. She’s working in the context of pop convention for the most part, but her vibe and style on stage is pure rock star. I think this is part of what makes her so great, and different from her peers in the current pop landscape. I think this rocker thing will be more obvious when her next album comes out. Before this show, I got to hear a handful of tracks from Born This Way, and those songs were much more overtly rock without losing any of her dance music sensibility. She’s found a way to merge it all, and I’m excited to see how the world responds. (You can read my preview of these new songs at Rolling Stone.)

Lady Gaga “Born This Way”

Yes, this song echoes Madonna’s “Express Yourself,” and yes, a lot of what Lady Gaga does is essentially an updated version of Madonna’s paradigm for pop stardom. If you’re the type of person who thinks either of those points are equivalent to a valid negative criticism of Lady Gaga, I’m here to tell you that you’re an idiot and almost certainly a hypocrite too.

For one thing, it probably doesn’t take much digging into your record collection to find music by rock bands who are working within some easily identifiable tradition, or may directly call back to a specific artist. We, as a culture, have no problem with this, and if anything, we expect and desire familiarity from rock acts. (This is also true of rap and R&B to a large extent.) So why the double standard for pop acts? Is it because pop is more overtly market-driven, we feel compelled to overstate its cynicism and neglect its similarity to everything else in contemporary music?

Second, how can anyone get up in arms about borrowing ideas from Madonna when Madonna is the Queen of the Magpies? Like Madonna and David Bowie before her, Gaga’s genius isn’t profound musical originality so much as it’s about writing high quality pop songs that fit into a larger aesthetic framework that includes high concept fashion, theatrical performance and interaction with the media at large. Gaga is all about how it all fits together in the big picture, the sum of the parts. She makes the most sense in concert because that’s where it all comes together — the music, the singing, the dancing, the fashion, the setpieces, her interaction with the audience. The audience is very crucial to Gaga; her “little monsters” complete her performance with their physical response and by bringing their own creativity into the mix by showing up in costume, et al. This is a key difference between Gaga and Madonna — Madonna has always presented herself as being removed from her fans, Gaga encourages communication and intense identification. She’s very much of her time. Madonna never had to work with social media in her prime, but Gaga has found a way to seamlessly integrate the aesthetics of the Twitter era into the style of pop stardom that the Material Girl pioneered in the 80s.

I love “Born This Way,” but of course I would — “Express Yourself” has always been my favorite Madonna song, and I just love this sort of pop song. We don’t get that many of them, really. Even without the heavy handed self-help message, this would feel thrilling and inspiring. It’s a joyous, exciting, delightfully cheesy song. It really comes alive in concert, ending her show as a communal celebration of personal empowerment and self-acceptance. If you’re the type of person who feels like the world doesn’t need this sort of message, well, I’m glad you feel so great about yourself or that you’re comfortable in your self-loathing. I’m all in favor of it, though, especially since this song gets into specifics that most other songs with similar messages gloss over in the interest of playing it safe.

Buy it from Amazon.

Scissor Sisters @ Boardwalk Hall, Atlantic City, NJ 2/19/2011

Night Work / Laura / Any Which Way / Running Out / I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’ / Filthy/Gorgeous

Scissor Sisters “Night Work”

About halfway through this 22 minute set, Ana Matronic told the audience “If you haven’t heard of us, you’re probably not gay or British.” And yeah, a lot of people in the audience were clearly unfamiliar with the band, but of all the arena shows I’ve seen, this was the best response I’ve ever seen for an opening act. The room was at least two thirds full when they went on at 8 PM sharp, and I saw a lot of dancing on the floor. Gaga’s little monsters are a good, enthusiastic bunch. As far as Scissor Sisters performances go, this was fun but not full power. It sounded like Jake Shears was holding back a little bit, but the back up singers and Ana pulled some extra weight and it came out totally fine. The band routinely plays these kind of venues overseas; it was nice to finally see them play to this kind of room even if it wasn’t their crowd.

Buy it from Amazon.

Gene Defcon “Liz”

It’s actually hard to tell whether this song is being addressed to an actual girlfriend or an unrequited crush, but given the hyperbolic nature of the lyrics, I wonder if a love like this is even requitable. “Liz” is big-hearted and sugary, but also sort of frantic and urgent. Gene Defcon’s voice is thin and boyish, and his words betray a naive and unrealistic notion of romance that veers back and forth between over-the-top fantasy and bleak melodrama. He sounds extremely desperate to will his concept of a perfect life with Liz into existence, and to drown out his doubts and fears. He’s mostly successful, though every now and again, the negativity reveals itself.

Buy it from Amazon. Originally posted on April 4th 2007.

Eagle & Talon “In Manila”

Kim from Eagle & Talon sings in a way that always reminds me a bit of Mary Timony, and so when I first heard this song, a line from a Helium song came to mind: “Cos we’re going out without our guitars…” The band played around with keyboards a bit on their previous record, but that sounded a bit tentative to me alongside their guitar-centric tracks. “In Manila” is all cheap keyboards and thin beats, but it also has the urgency and tunefulness of their best work. I like the way the vocals and the music seem slightly at odds — it sounds as if she’s going through some serious emotional drama while stuck in some environment that’s meant to be very cheerful and innocuous.

Buy it directly from Eagle & Talon.

PJ Harvey “In the Dark Places”

PJ Harvey’s Let England Shake conveys a relentless, overbearing grayness in its sound. I imagine gray buildings, gray clouds, grayish light that stings your eyes and dulls your mood. As on previous albums, Harvey contrasts the bleakness of her arrangements with vocal performances that are passionate but slightly muted and boxed in by the tonality of the music. She’s brilliant in the way she balances unhinged emoting with varying degrees of repressed feeling — she always comes across as a fully formed character with a rich subtext. She typically uses this technique for character studies, but in “In the Dark Places,” she suggests a vivid story about young soldiers from a group perspective, and with only a few lyrical details. There is so much sadness and wounded humanity in the way she sings this song, but it doesn’t get away from the central feeling in the music, which is this resignation to grim obligation.

Buy it from Amazon.

Yuck “Shook Down”

I get the sense that this band was shooting for an Elliott Smith sort of vibe here, like “The Ballad of Big Nothing” or something. It’s not far off, but I think the result is actually closer to “melancholy romantic ballad that gets played during a wistful moment on a teen drama.” And don’t take that the wrong way: That is pretty much exactly why I like this song so much. It’s sad but not depressive; it’s pretty but just a bit rough around the edges; it’s full of intense, idealized affection and longing. You hear this and it makes you want to have some romantic drama in your life — either you want to be the person singing these words, or to have them sung to you. A lot of people try to write songs like this, and a lot of them are mawkish and terrible. Yuck nailed it.

Buy it from Amazon.

Disappears “New Fast”

I like when punk bands get away from standard aggression and instead project undiluted dread and nihilism. Disappears do just that — imagine the steady melodic bass groove as a center, and the rest of the arrangement as a sound that pushes you away from it, or up against it. The vocals are what really push this over the top. He is so monotone that he barely sounds like an actual living human being, and the indifference he conveys is, in its way, far more hostile than yelling and screaming. This is the sound of being totally checked out of live, and it’s kinda terrifying.

Buy it from Amazon.

Matthew Friedberger “The Sainte-Barbe Triangle”

Even as a long term Fiery Furnaces nerd, I was a bit apprehensive about Matthew Friedberger’s series of solo albums. I consider his combo-pack solo debut Winter Women/Holy Ghost Language School to be a low point in the extended Furnaces discography — there’s some good songs in there, but it’s just too much, and the best stuff is still somehow a bit timid for a guy who typically just goes all out. The first two records in this series are another story. To some extent, Napoleonette is roughly what you might expect from a piano-centric Friedberger record, but his experimentation with prepared piano gives the set a fascinating tonality and surprising physicality. Meet Me in Miramas is more of a curveball — hypnotic grooves, insistent rhythms, guitar used more for clanging texture than riffs or melody. “The Sainte-Barbe Triangle” opens that album, and it was immediately startling and engrossing. Through Matthew’s voice still has the cadence particular to himself and his sister Eleanor, everything else about the track comes closer to krautrock than what you’d expect from the Fiery Furnaces. I have no idea what is coming next in the series, but I’m excited to find out. Even after nearly a decade of music, this guy is still finding ways to surprise and challenge me.

Buy it from Thrill Jockey Records.

Little Dragon “Stå Upp”

Yukimi Nagano has a wonderful voice that conveys style and soulfulness, but I don’t think it would be as powerful in Little Dragon’s music if the group was not as masterful in its use of keyboards. “Stå Upp” is a fine example of the way they balance delicate atmospheric parts with melody lines that have this remarkable tonality that always reminds me of colorful artificial light. The sound has this slick, sophisticated quality, but it’s not overly tasteful — there’s a seediness to it, like some bar that’s intended to be classy but has aged into becoming a dive anyway. Also, I love the springiness of their beats, it adds to this overall lightness in the sound. If you imagine the beat as something that keeps a song grounded, the percussion here never seems to touch the floor for very long.

Visit the Little Dragon MySpace page.

James Blake “The Wilhelm Scream”

When it comes to James Blake, it can be easy to get distracted by his context. I think it’s a lot better to into his debut record without thinking too hard about the electronic music scene he comes from or how he relates to various strains of popular music. To get the full effect, you just have to listen and feel it, because really, that’s what matters here. It’s all raw, intense emotion, but written and arranged in a way that allows for lyrical gaps and silences that add a touch of mystery. The songs feel so intimate, but at the same time there’s this distance. On one hand it’s like being with — or just being — a person who can only let someone in so far before putting up some kind of defense. On the other, he gives you plenty of room to fill in the blanks with the details of your own emotional life.

Buy it from Amazon.

Cut Copy “Where I’m Going”

There had to a be a point in the process of writing this song when Dan Whitford realized that his lyrics needed to directly state exactly what the music was communicating, and that anything else would feel like a cheat. When you write a song that sounds exactly like you’re heading off to a brighter, better, happier world, you have to let everyone know it and invite them all along for the trip. This is very much a “journey, not the destination” thing too — when I hear this, I don’t even care about where we’re all going, I just want the joy, the adventure and discovery to last forever. This is the kind of upbeat pop song that actively makes life more enjoyable.

Buy it from Amazon.

Holy Ghost! “Do It Again”

Dance pop music is typically an expression of extroversion, or at least aspires to that state of mind. “Do It Again” is atypical in that respect — it’s sung from the perspective of a guy who starts off making a case for wanting to stay in by himself. Once he’s convinced to get out of his house, he’s not any less bored. The rituals and rhythms of bars and dance clubs are just as predictable as being alone in an apartment. He’s not complaining, though, just observing. It’s at that point when the DJ saves his life, or at least makes a ho-hum night a bit better than it would be otherwise by playing some exciting music. These lyrics could go one step further in any direction and be really obvious, but Holy Ghost! stick to understatement, if just to offset the sound of the track. This is some bouncey, colorful stuff. Also, I love the way it sounds as though the singer is about to break into Roxette’s “The Look” on bridge but he catches himself and shifts up the melody before he can get sued.

Go to the Holy Ghost! website.

Patrick Wolf “The City (Richard X Remix)”

The original version of “The City” is quite good, but it pales in comparison to this remix by Richard X. Without doing much to alter the basic character and structure of the song, X pushes everything in Wolf’s song to an ultra-romantic extreme. It’s faster, more danceable. It sounds like a city made of sparkles and it feels like a nonstop cinematic climax. It’s like Wolf and X got together and did their very best to answer the question “What’s so great about dancey pop music, anyway?” This makes me smile, it makes my heart race. If only life always could feel just like this song.

Buy Patrick Wolf music from Amazon.

Iron & Wine “Me and Lazarus”

Though Lazarus is a name with some very specific associations, it’s not entirely clear to me why Sam Beam is using it in this song. The best I can come up with is that the singer is envious of his friend’s ability to redefine and transform himself — in a sense, resurrected like the Biblical Lazarus. It could just be something that sounds nice in the melody, which is fine by me, especially since the main feature of the song is it gorgeous melody and relaxed arrangement. The sound is rich and comforting without seeming heavy, smothering or overdone. The emotional tone is muted and polite, but there’s a complex set of mixed feelings being articulated in the melody and texture. I hear bemusement in the way the melody climbs upward at the end of the verses, resignation in his wordless “oh-oh-ohs,” caution in the slow walk of the bass and assertiveness in the saxophone leads that weave in and out of the composition.

Buy it from Amazon.

Wire “Please Take”

Is there anyone better at writing sober, emotionally distant songs about feeling betrayed and aggrieved than Wire’s Colin Newman? “Please Take” is prime late-period Wire — icy, unforgiving and very direct in its sentiment, but so aloof that the kiss-off seems more brutal than if he’d conveyed even the slightest bit of emotional investment. This is the sound of a guy who is making sure that you know that he is totally finished with you and is not bluffing for a second. The music is tuneful and serene, but it can’t sweeten the incredible bitterness of this piece.

Buy it from Amazon.

Anna Calvi “No More Words”

I recommend that everyone love this and get as much as they can from it before it starts turning up on the soundtrack of every borderline television show, movie and ad campaign that requires a song that immediately signals romantic yet edgy sexiness. Not that the song would necessarily be diminished by such a thing — actually, it could be enhanced if it ended up in a truly inspired scene — but there’s just something about this that is so immediately powerful and evocative that it’s hard to imagine it not getting snapped up by eager music supervisors. This is a brilliantly realized track. Anna Calvi’s voice has both the ferocity and the restraint of a young Polly Harvey, as well as a natural flair on guitar. The atmosphere of this song is thick from the start but the transition into the second half is totally inspired. It’s like a big puff of colorful smoke that somehow turns into delicate metallic clanging.

Buy it from Domino Records in the U.K. Pre-order it from Amazon in the U.S.

Lia Ices “Little Marriage”

Lia Ices has a frigid, brittle sound that suits her name very well. When I hear “Little Marriage” I imagine an elaborate sculpture of incredibly thin icicles — beautiful, perfect and extremely delicate. But even if the music conveys fragility, the emotion of the piece seems a lot more resilient. The song is mournful in tone, but Ices does not seem shattered by heartbreak and trauma. If anything, she sounds as if she’s found a way to harden her heart to compensate for an outward vulnerability.

Buy it from Amazon.

Deerhoof “The Merry Barracks”

A lot of indie rock music is based on contrasting highly expressive guitar parts with deadpan or understated vocal performances, but Deerhoof push that dynamic to an absurd extreme. The guitar parts are always extremely flamboyant and tied in with rhythms that bounce all over the place. The music carries all the emotion, while the vocals by Satomi Matsuzaki are like a blank slate. She can be rather playful, but it’s hard to get a read on her. Emotionally illegible, totally unknowable. This throws the music off in a way that is sometimes fascinating and exciting, but more often than not, I find it frustrating. Their songs are packed with musical ideas that I admire and sometimes envy, but I don’t know how to connect with it. A song like “The Merry Barracks” is incredibly satisfying on a cerebral and physical level, but there’s this important part of me that feels left out of the fun.

Buy it from Amazon.

Destroyer “Poor in Love”

She took me aside and said

“Look, I don’t do this every day,

you’ve got style…

All you’ve got is style,

I can see it from a mile away

There are probably a thousand unnameable emotions and anxieties that cluster up in the ten second pause between “you’ve got style” and “all you’ve got is style.” You seem to pass through the feelings in slow motion, slower at least than it would take for someone to actually say it. It’s a split second rendered in great detail before snapping back into what can be understood as “real time” within the song’s loose narrative. The songs takes about a minute to recover from that blow, but once the shock waves dissipate, the groove kicks in and Dan Bejar’s bohemian swagger returns. It’s beautiful, really. This is a truly gorgeous and affecting piece of music, and I don’t think I have ever heard anything quite like the graceful dissatisfaction in the sound of this, though I suppose people like Stephen Malkmus and Bob Dylan have spent a lot of time in this zone over the course of their careers.

None of this is exactly new for Bejar either, but there’s something magical in this song and the rest of Kaputt in comparison even to previous triumphs like Destroyer’s Rubies or “Myriad Harbour.” The album announces itself as a very special record — an instant classic! — in the way that it so perfectly conjures an immediately recognizable but totally ineffable set of feelings, images, concepts and arguments without seeming familiar. It’s so specific but it resists description. Really, a lot of why this is so moving is because it’s articulating complex thoughts and emotions that just do not make sense when you type them out.

Buy it from Amazon.

Pearl Jam “The Fixer” (Live on Ten Legs version)

I don’t really remember why, but I never got around to writing about Pearl Jam’s last album Backspacer. I suppose I just wasn’t up for it at the time it came out, things were kinda rough and it didn’t connect. I did like “The Fixer” more or less immediately. It’s undoubtedly one of the group’s best latter day singles, an energetic, compact composition that showcases their generally underrated gift for pop songwriting. (Has any other band written so many memorable radio hits while rarely getting credit for writing catchy, well-constructed songs?) A lot of what makes “The Fixer” work is the way the song plays off of the heroic quality of Eddie Vedder’s voice and stage persona. In this song, he’s an earnest, old fashioned guy who wants to save everyone and everything, and to preserve cherished things from the past that he fear may be lost forever. There’s a sense of humor in this, a touch of self-parody, but for the most part, this is the sound of the guy proudly owning his character, messiah complex and all.

Buy it from Amazon.