Yo La Tengo “If It’s True”

One of the tricks Yo La Tengo have mastered over the years is placing their quiet, unassuming personalities in the context of familiar song styles that are typically characterized by more glamorous vocalists. They’re not the first people to ever do this, and they’re hardly not the only band to deliberately undersell emotional lyrics with a flat vocal affect, but they don’t just stop at irony and call it a day. Ira Kaplan and Georgia Hubley have learned to give nuanced performances in their narrow range, and when they sing about the complications and struggles of stable long-term relationships, it’s always pitched with just the right balance of honesty and self-effacing wit. They know that they aren’t the most exciting people and that their relationship may not be the most dramatic thing, but they know exactly how to draw you in and make you relate to where they’re coming from even if you’ve never been so lucky to have what they’ve got.

Buy it from Amazon.

tUnE-yArDs @ Bowery Ballroom 11/18/2009

Intro / Powa / “What’s That About?” / “Move To My Hood” / Fiya / Real Live Flesh / Hatari / “Do You Want To Live?”

tUnE-yArDs “Hatari”

As Mike Barthel wrote last night, tUnE-yArDs’ debut album is impressive not just for its unique style and the high quality of its songs, but for the way Merrill Garbus’ deliberate, distinct recording aesthetic makes us pay attention to the subtext in her music. I’ve heard so many albums in my life, but I’ve never encountered anything that blends studio-as-instrument technique with raw, live performance as seamlessly and as inventively as bIrD-bRaInS. All of this sets up an intriguing challenge for her live show — stripped of the framing and textures of her album, can her music be as engaging when she’s just there playing in a room?

The answer: Merrill Garbus is even better when she’s just there playing in a room, accompanied only by a skilled bass player. She’s definitely not hobbled by her reliance on loop pedals — if anything, she turns that potential weakness into a major strength, drawing drama and a “wow” factor out of her virtuoso live looping skills. Just as her recording techniques focus our attention on the construction of the music, watching her build her samples in person invites the audience to observe a portion of her creative process. Her voice, undoubtedly the most arresting aspect of her songs, is the center of her live performance, and she easily ranks among the best vocalists I have ever witnessed. Her technique is excellent, but that’s secondary to the raw emotive power of her voice, and the supreme confidence in how she wields it. She’s absolutely fierce at many points through the set, but also versatile, never leaning too hard on the same tricks.

Nearly all of the songs in her show last night were brand new, and she sold them with such authority the audience responded as if they were all beloved hits. There is no doubt in my mind that her second record is going to be incredible. Do yourself a favor: Go see her play live. Do whatever it takes. If you like this music even a little bit, you’re going to leave the show loving her a lot.

Buy it from Amazon.

Dirty Projectors @ Bowery Ballroom 11/18/2009

No Intention / Remade Horizon / Ascending Melody / Fluorescent Half-Dome / Fucked For Life / Gimme Gimme Gimme / Two Doves / Spray Paint / The Bride / Cannibal Resource / Temecula Sunrise / Stillness Is The Move / Useful Chamber // When The World Comes To An End

Dirty Projectors “No Intention”

tUnE-yArDs was a very tough act to follow, and though Dirty Projectors put on an extremely impressive show, my enjoyment of it was dampened somewhat by my astonishment at what Garbus had done less than an hour previous. There are a lot of ways in which Dirty Projectors and tUnE-yArDs are very similar — they’re both playful with rhythm and melody, they lift a lot from various strains of black music, both boast extraordinary vocalists — but contrasting the two in this way highlights some of the areas where Dirty Projectors are lacking. The most obvious thing is that while Garbus’ music is overflowing with passion, David Longstreth’s compositions are far more reserved in their feeling and even when the songs allow for bursts of ecstatic vocalization, it’s just as mannered as his subtly complicated guitar parts and the girls’ intricate hockets. This isn’t a comment on the quality of Longstreth’s music or its emotional quality, but rather how the extreme discipline of it all can lead to somewhat rote performances. It’s easy to just sit there totally in awe of their craft, but if you’re kinda over that aspect of what they do, the less engaging songs in the set can get a bit dull. That said, the best songs are basically unfuckwithable, and the sheer pleasure of hearing these people nail melodies as brilliant and life-affirming as those in “Cannibal Resource,” “No Intention,” “Remade Horizon,” and “Stillness Is The Move” feels something like a miracle.

Buy it from Amazon.

Tegan & Sara “Arrow”

A lot of people can’t handle criticism of any kind, and conflate it with conflict and cruelty. That doesn’t have to be the case. The singer in this song is requesting constructive criticism and “tough love,” and though it seems to be part of a desire to change for the better, what comes through in the language and in her voice is a hunger for intimacy and acceptance. She wants to know what the other person is thinking, she wants to get inside their head and figure out how to be what they want her to be. She doesn’t want to be torn apart, just brought closer to the person she loves. The music is on edge in the verses when she’s soliciting a critique, but when the song shifts to the chorus, it eases up as she acknowledges some kind of progress. It’s a tense song about high expectations, but there’s a sweetness and sincerity here that opens it up. It would feel so smothering any other way.

Buy it from Amazon.

Felix “You Are The One I Pick”

There is a distinct Moon Pix thing happening in this song, not simply in that Lucinda Chua’s voice somewhat recalls that of Chan Marshall, but in that it evokes the same sort of sad grey emptiness. There’s no solid center to the composition, and though the melodic lines that seem to float through the piece have rich, distinct tones, they sound as though they’ve been whittled down from thick branches to brittle twigs. This is pensive, lovely stuff; elliptical in structure and muted in emotional tone. The title is decisive and declarative, and though the lyrics express clear desire, the music is far more tentative. It’s not a question of commitment — this is more about putting what you want up against the probability of actually getting it, and shrinking a bit when your chances don’t look too great.

Buy it from Amazon.

Fuck Buttons “The Lisbon Maru”

The Lisbon Maru was a Japanese freighter carrying Allied prisoners of war that was sunk by a US submarine in 1942. The ship should have had some kind of marker to indicate its cargo, but it did not, and so the US ended up killing hundreds of its own men. There’s a metaphor in there, but it’s only hinted at in this instrumental by the Fuck Buttons. The piece centers on a steady marching beat, but the emotional charge is in the waves of guitar and keyboards that hit like pangs of regret. It would be sad and moving without the context of the title, but with the suggestion, it opens up considerably. It feels just like being upset about a misguided, confused act of hostility that hurts yourself far more than your nemesis.

Buy it from Amazon.

Amerie “Tell Me You Love Me”

Amerie’s on her home turf here, brashly emoting over a hyper-kinetic beat. Some artists may run away from the aesthetics of their breakthrough single in the interest of avoiding one-hit-wonder status, but Amerie seems intent on making “1 Thing” a genre unto itself, and it’s not a bad idea. Even her least inspired variations on the theme yield enjoyable results, and after all, there’s no sense in avoiding what works so well for you, especially if few other people do anything close to the same thing. “Tell Me You Love Me” flips the ecstatic sound of “1 Thing” into something far more tense and nervous, with the beats seeming to bounce around like neuroses in an anxious mind. She’s singing about trying to make someone love her, and though her exhortations come with the gusto of a distaff James Brown, it’s clear that it’s an uphill battle, and maybe not worth the effort. Can you MAKE anyone love you? I don’t think so. But then again, I’m the guy who fully believes that “I Can’t Make You Love Me” is the most depressing song ever written.

Buy it from Amazon.

Amwe “Friction Between The Lovers”

Most of this song seems to be in Japanese, but Amwe does sing the words “friction, friction” in the chorus, but it comes out sounding more like “rickshaw, rickshaw!” That’s about as much insight I have into this song on a lyrical level, but it’s probably enough, since that buzzsaw keyboard part and the jumpy rhythm are more to the point. Amwe’s voice isn’t rough and tumble, but it’s just assertive enough to fit comfortably with the hardness of the hooks while toning down the harshness a bit.

Buy it from Amazon.

Thao with the Get Down Stay Down “When We Swam”

“When We Swam” has its roots in old time-y rock ‘n’ roll, and as such places its emphasis on the hips, both musically and lyrically. The beat swings gently but with a flirty assurance, and Thao’s words, delivered with a sultry assertiveness, border on outright lasciviousness. There’s no getting around the lust in this music, much less the cocktail of anxieties that inform the experience of the character in the song as she attempts to hold on to something slippery and elusive. Innocent is not the right word to describe this, but there’s a charming youthful ease on display here, and though the song is spiked with nerves, it’s not overbearing at all. If anything, the angst and complication is just part of the fun.

Buy it from Amazon.

Fela Kuti “I.T.T. (Part 2)”

There are a lot of ways that a Broadway production based upon the life and music of Fela Kuti could go wrong or just be sort of unbearably hokey, but Fela! by Jim Lewis and Bill T. Jones is an excellent, engaging show that brings Afrobeat into an unlikely context without diluting the music or condescending to either the source material or the theater audience. The production is built around the conceit that you are at Fela’s personal club The Shrine in Lagos, and he is hosting his show and explaining the circumstances of his life via monologue and his music. The narrative is fairly didactic in the first act, including an entertaining explanation of Afrobeat involving demonstrations of the various musical influences on the distinct sound, and more abstracted in the second, which climaxes with a spectacular, impressionistic dance-centric set piece. The story can get a bit wobbly at some points, but the narrative thread is secondary to the brilliance of the music, which is performed by Antibalas, and Jones’ choreography, which is so amazing as to seem unreal.

Given that he is the center of every scene, Fela is an extraordinarily demanding role, and as such there are two actors in the role, switching off shows through the week. I was lucky enough to see a performance featuring Sahr Ngaujah, the primary Fela. Ngaujah is a truly astonishing actor, and he inhabits the role of the charismatic firebrand with freakish grace as he speaks, sings, dances, and plays his saxophone. It’s very hard to imagine the show even existing without him — the skill set is so specific, the performance is so demanding. He’s built like a superhero and has a level of talent that forces you to wonder how a person such as himself can even exist. I trust that Kevin Mambo, the secondary Fela, is very good in the part as well, but it’s hard to imagine that there are many other men who could handle this, much less surpass Ngaujah.

Aside from some narrative issues, the show is not without flaw. The role of Sandra, the American woman who brings Fela to radical politics, is somewhat miscast. Saycon Sengbloh is a fine actress and singer, but her mannered approach to the part does not convey enough passion or excitement to properly sell this pivotal moment in the story, which happens to include what I must assume is the world’s first dance tribute to reading.

Fela! is obviously not the most pure expression of Afrobeat music you are going to find, and its depiction of Kuti borders on hagiography, but it is remarkable in the way it brings the music and aesthetic to theater without diluting the essence of the material. Fela’s songs are abridged and contextualized to fit the narrative, but it’s neither a standard jukebox musical or a bad cover version. It’s perhaps best to think of this work as a world class Afrobeat revue, complete with a light history lesson for those new to the sound that does not insult the intelligence of those who are already familiar with Fela’s life and music.

Buy Fela’s music from Amazon. Buy tickets to see Fela! on Broadway.

tUnE-yArDs “Sunlight”

I entirely ignored tUnE-yArDs for the better part of this year entirely because I don’t like the name, and every time I saw it in print in promo emails et al I figured it was just another boring band of dudes. This is not the case. tUnE-yArDs is the work of one woman, Merrill Garbus, and her music is so distinct and atypical that I fumble when I try to think of how to describe her in terms of genre.

The songs on her debut album BiRd-BrAiNs are recorded on somewhat crappy equipment as if they were field recordings, but there is a great deal of manipulation in the production, yielding stark contrasts in fidelity and sound level within the pieces. For example, a guitar or ukulele part may be recorded with a crisp, clean tone, but percussion will get blown out and clipped before switching to a more typical sound while shifting placement in the mix. It sounds primitive but it’s an incredibly deliberate and considered work, and the variety of textures floating throughout the album lends a dynamic subtext and the feeling of shifting physical planes. More than any other album in 2009 aside from perhaps Micachu’s Jewellery, BiRd-BrAiNs sounds like something you could reach out and touch, even if the physical sensation would not be consistently pleasant.

Garbus’ compositions are seldom fixed in any particular genre, but she leans heavy on folk, R&B, and miscellaneous African influences. Melody and rhythm come easily to her, but the most striking aspect of her album is her voice, which is fiercely expressive and presented plainly with only natural reverb, so her boldest moments are almost shockingly dry and matter-of-fact. At some points, as when she tenses up to emphatically spit out the words “We can pretend it’s Christmas while we’re locked here in this box / while my brother and all his friends whip out their tiny teenage cocks / if I scream they’ll hear us so let’s count along with clocks” in “Lions,” it’s a sound of flattened horror. In other tracks, as in the gorgeous, nearly anthemic single “Sunlight,” she starts off with a delicate vocal tone that gradually hardens as sweetness becomes desperation, and desperation gives way to self-preservation. There is a fantastic balance here — raw and focused, immediate and careful, calculated intimacy. You can hear the seams in its construction, but Garbus always sounds entirely present and engaged on a level that goes beyond typical studio performance.

Buy it from Amazon.

Lily Allen “22”

Lily Allen is very good at writing songs that bluntly articulate deep, painful fears, particularly those rooted in extremely cynical conventional wisdom about how life works. Even when it is clear that she’s writing from a satirical perspective, it’s hard to imagine that she entirely disagrees with everything she’s singing — she might not want some things to be true or entirely believe that they are, but she’s aware of some very ugly realities. Things may not be quite as bad as they seem in her lyrics, but chances are, your insecurities are quite valid.

Buy it from Amazon.

Julian Casablancas “4 Chords of the Apocalypse”

The best songs on Julian Casablancas’ solo debut are the ones in which he sounds just like himself but not much at all like the Strokes, forcing us to reckon with the notion that the two things are not as synonymous as we’d previously thought. This is a bit like playing dress-up, and for the most part, Casablancas has sense enough to only indulge in drag that flatters his features. I’m not sure what exactly you call a song like “4 Chords of the Apocalypse” — Rec room balladry? Sad prom rock? — but you’ve heard this sort of thing many times before, and he slips into it so naturally that it hardly feels like pastiche. He sounds battered and leveled by love, or whatever approximation of love got him to this weakened state. He’s still got some pride though, even if it’s just sticking to his guns in the face of total romantic disaster: “Don’t you know that if a time warp was open, I’d stand right in my place?” You feel for him, but at the same time you just wish he’d know enough to give up the fight.

Buy it from Amazon.

Micachu and the Shapes “Golden Phone”

The lyrics to “Golden Phone” are like an explanation for all of Micachu’s music: She’s fascinated by every bit of sound around her, but it’s somehow so elusive and overwhelming. The world turns, her body moves, and love comes and goes but she’s just trying to capture and make sense of “that nonsense sound.” This epiphany comes in her most relaxed and streamlined composition, which shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. It’s still restless, though. Eyes closed, ears open.

Buy it from Amazon.

Experimental Dental School “Basement Fever”

Experimental Dental School strike an interesting, appealing balance between backwoods rock and arty European grooviness, as if to imagine a synthesis of Creedence Clearwater Revival and Can. I’m more attracted to the Kraut-ish elements here, but the shift from eeriness to crunchiness in this song is good for an easy thrill.

Get it for free from the Experimental Dental School website.

Charlotte Hatherley “Little Sahara”

Charlotte Hatherley’s new album New Worlds is obsessed with color, to such an extent that nearly every track describes understanding experiences and emotions via color metaphors rendered in sound and words. The art comes from a synesthetic point-of-view more than it evokes synethesia itself, but in a way the former is more intriguing. At points Hatherley sounds like a crackpot, but in the context of her dynamic, perky pop songs, her thrill in color and fascination with life becomes a visceral sensation. In “Little Sahara,” she imagines seeing her lover only as abstracted colorful light, casting aside the body for a total emotional freedom. The idea drifts off, but her excitement does not as the chorus hits over and over with urgency and desire. That’s the fun of New Worlds — not only does it shift perspective, but it embraces the joy of finding new things to see and love in the world around you.

Buy it from Amazon.

Oh No Ono “The Wave Ballet”

The singer — I’m not sure of their gender! — sounds rather like Geddy Lee, and the band makes the Arcade Fire sound like a very restrained duo. The song starts with a choral section, and builds to an arena ballad of symphonic majesty. Just so you know, that’s what you’re in for here. Oh No Ono may have a silly name, but they are not fucking around, and as over-the-top as this gets, the emotion and drama of the piece is never tainted by either self-serious pomposity or self-conscious irony. Hugeness does not seem to be the goal it and of itself, but simply what the song must be to properly communicate its feeling. As ornate as the arrangement may be, the most beautiful part of the song is the chorus, which washes over like cool waves, a melodic turn of nearly child-like simplicity in the middle of this epic piece.

Buy it from Oh No Ono.

Here are some very good songs from albums I’ve recently given so-so reviews on Pitchfork. Please click through for the full reviews.

Spiral Stairs “True Love”

Kannberg’s new music mostly takes its cues from Neil Young and mid-period Bob Dylan, and to a certain extent, the ragged yet expansive sound suits his strengths as a guitarist and his weaknesses as an often aggravatingly nasal vocalist. “True Love”, the album opener, is confident and sharp despite feeling more than a bit generic, and tracks like “Maltese T” and “Cold Change” are minor works, yet successful on their own terms. (More)

Buy it from Amazon.

U.S.E. “River Of Love”

The band, who wisely shortened their name from the rather unwieldy United State of Electronica in the five years since the release of their debut album, specialize in evoking delirious bliss and positive vibes by melding the style of post-Daft Punk house music, twee indie rock, and a sort of “Sesame Street”-esque funk. Their formula can produce some truly outstanding and uplifting tracks– “Emerald City” and “La Discoteca” from their debut, “All the World” and “River of Love” on this album– but the catch is, you have to already be in an upbeat mood to appreciate the full effect of the music. (More)

Buy it from Amazon.

Telekinesis “Tokyo”

As much as its songs can fit comfortably in the background, several tracks on Telekinesis! reward closer attention. “Tokyo”, a perky rocker about having dreams so vivid they feel like actual memories, stands out as a prime example of songwriter Michael Benjamin Lerner’s gift for conveying a feeling of relaxed urgency. (More)

Buy it from Amazon.

There are some occasions these days when I write about a song that I love for Pitchfork track reviews instead of this site. In case you do not follow my work over there, you really ought to pay attention to these songs, as they are both absolutely brilliant. These are only pull-quotes, by the way — click through to Pitchfork for the full reviews.

Sleigh Bells “Crown on the Ground”

It’s like the final world-shattering salvo of the Loudness War; a deeply unsubtle scrape of metal-on-metal tones so abrasive that it’s almost shocking to discover that the song isn’t actually some kind of Wolf Eyes-inspired noise experiment, but rather a ridiculously poppy club banger. (More)

Visit the Sleigh Bells MySpace page.)

Frida Hyvönen “Jesus Was A Cross Maker”

Whereas Sill backed away from sentimentality in favor of a cool precision, Hyvönen’s take is devastatingly emotional, with much of its power coming from the contrast of her confident voice and the fragility of her accompaniment. (More)

Buy it from Amazon.

Matias Aguayo “Rollerskate”

The impressive thing about “Rollerskate” is that it doesn’t immediately announce itself as being basically an a cappella number, even if nearly all the sounds are in fact chopped-up bits of the human voice. Matias Aguayo’s arrangement is a slippery, bouncy thing that builds up a nice pile of hooks without getting heavy or over-done. I don’t really connect the sound of the song with actual rollerskating, though. Yes, there’s a nice glide to the piece, but the skip in the beat is more evocative in my mind of jumping rope.

Buy it from Amazon.

Weezer “The Girl Got Hot”

I like late-period Rivers Cuomo because he’s basically like Martin Short in Clifford trying to make faces like a “human boy.” He is a deeply bizarre man who is going far out of his way to be “normal” and make music for “normal” people, but his attempts at banality are so affected and deliberately dumb that he comes off seeming much weirder than he would if he was writing total nonsense. The lyrics and music on Raditude are all signification and no meaning, and push the willful vacuity of his last few albums to an absurd extreme. Interestingly, the only tracks that outright fail on the album are the ones that display some degree of self-awareness, as in the dreadful club pastiche “Can’t Stop Partying” featuring Lil Wayne. This sort of thing can only work with a glassy-eyed, poker-faced commitment to ridiculousness, and that’s certainly in evidence on “The Girl Got Hot,” a cheery pop tune that comes across like a long-lost collaboration between Gary Glitter and The Gas Station Dogs.

“The Girl Got Hot” is about being out at a rock party and running into a girl who was homely in junior high, but has blossomed into a total babe. (If we’re operating on the logic of Hollywood, and it’s pretty safe to say that we are, she simply ditched her glasses for contact lenses. Whoa!) The interesting thing here — and a woman had to point this out to me — is that the scenario in the song is not at all a typical male fantasy, but it is something a lot of young girls imagine for themselves. That he makes a point of harping on the notion that all the other girls from school are now basically unfuckable hags only highlights the wish fulfillment aspect for insecure girls. It’s empty objectification, but a triumph all the same. There’s no subtext in this song, no perspective or criticism. It’s just “Hey, wow, the girl got hot! Awesome!,” and out. But the context adds some weight to this glorious fluff, because the whole time I just imagine this cable news ticker scroll in Rivers’ head reading “This is normal, right? Parties. Girls. Malls. Fun. Normal! Normal! Normal! Right?”

Buy it from Amazon.

Vampire Weekend “Horchata”

If you can get over whatever kneejerk class rage this band may inspire in you — UGH OH MY GOD HOW DARE THESE BLUE BLOOD IVY LEAGUE PRICKS BRAG ABOUT DRINKING RICE MILK WITH CINNAMON THOSE IMPERIALIST GENTRIFYING YUPPIE PREPPY HIPSTERS AND THEIR BOAT SHOES AND THEIR ASCOTS AND ARE THEY TRYING TO IMPRESS ME BY USING THE WORD ‘BALACLAVA’ IT AIN’T WORKING ON ME, RICHIE RICH!!!!!! — you just might notice that this is an extraordinarily sweet, sentimental, and empathetic pop song. There is so much kindness in the very sound of Ezra Koenig’s voice, and even more in the gentle, subtly shifting contours of his melodies. The arrangement is a collection of familiar, comforting sensations, but the sounds contrast in interesting ways, evoking a feeling not unlike noticing something new about an object or place you’ve seen almost every day for years of your life. When the chorus comes and Koenig sings “Here comes a feeling you thought you’d forgotten,” it feels exactly like you’re getting something back, and discovering something new about it in the process. The song is sophisticated and carefully composed, but it’s all in the interest of expressing a feeling and a thought with clarity and precision. They aren’t being show-offs, they are just very articulate young men.

Pre-order it from Amazon.

Atlas Sound “Logos”

“Everything makes sense when you look at it from another way.” Well, yes, in theory. But what if you are dealing with someone who can’t do that? How do you deal with something like that? Bradford Cox could not sound more zonked out than he does on this track, and yet I’m sitting here waiting for answers from this song like he’s some sort of oracle. Bradford knows the answers, right? It certainly can sound as if he does, even if his reply is often a bit of muttering, a wobbly beat, and a wash of softened noise. He’s not even talking about what I’m thinking about, but I feel like he’s almost there, or giving some kind of hint. I need to pay closer attention.

Buy it from Amazon.