Bell “Magic Tape”

All songs are essentially sensory illusions, but there is something particularly chimerical about this composition. It curves and folds in on itself without seeming to break a single straight line like some kind of musical Möbius strip, but there’s also a hint at multiple layers of depth that are not immediately apparent. There’s a sense of physical space at every moment, but it’s difficult to suss out the shape of that space, or your position in it. Nevertheless, the piece does not evoke discomfort or vertigo — on the contrary, the confusion is a pleasurable thing, kinda like the way we go on amusement park rides to simulate sensations we rarely encounter in normal life.

Visit the official Bell website.

U-God and Mike Ladd “Lipton”

U-God is man with limited stylistic range and musical utility, but he’s very skilled, and when he finds a track that flatters his deep, rhythmic monotone, he can truly shine. He tends to work well with up-tempo numbers — think “Gravel Pit” and “Cher Chez La Ghost” — and this collaboration with Mike Ladd flatters the same strengths, i.e., the rubber ball bounciness in his voice that seems to spring up off the beat. Ladd’s track is bubbly but butch, contrasting a kooky keyboard vamp with macho shouts and howls to get a sound that evokes a fratboy funhouse without so much ickiness. It’s a little “Louie Louie,” but not nearly as inscrutable — it’s pretty obvious that these dudes are just talking about how much they love to fuck.

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Like A Stuntman “On Repetition We Are”

Listening to this song on repeat — I know, how appropriate! — and trying to come up with some way to write about it, I realized that the best way to describe it was probably the cheapest, i.e., this sounds like Merry Post Pavvy era Animal Collective attempting to write their own Gary Glitter song. It’s got the simple repetitive hooks, but its stomp and momentum is muted and washed out with quasi-Beach Boys vocalizing and hazy synthesizer washes. The more I hear this song, the more I focus on the oscillating synth tone at the center of the piece, and its odd chilling effect on the arrangement. The composition is dynamic, but that hum makes everything seem frozen and out of time, much in the way a strobe light can make any movement seem slow and choppy.

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Lake “Madagascar”

“Madagascar” is adapted from a song called “Batsi Boka” by Ny Antsali, but I have never heard it, nor can I find it online. Nevertheless, it sounds very familiar, and I fall into this groove so easily it seems as though I’ve known it for most of my life. I suppose that either way, that feeling is the point — you float and drift along with it. You let it in, it eases you up. You pay too close attention, though, and you notice the melancholy in the lyrics, and the relaxed vibe starts to feel more like resignation, or worse, a very pleasant sort of oblivion.

Visit the official Lake website.

Pulp “I Love Life”

I’ve been under a lot of stress recently, and very often these days it feels as though I am unhappy about virtually every aspect of my life. Last night I learned of some very bad news that makes everything much, much worse. After taking a brief call from someone who was worried about me, I lied down on my bed with my back flat to the mattress and stared at my ceiling while this song by Pulp played on repeat for at least a half hour. It was the only thing I could do. It helped.

“I Love Life” is a rare and special song, the sort that makes a case for living that is unsentimental and bluntly logical: What else are you going to do? It’s the only thing you’ve got, really. The lyrics deliberately avoid the simple and the saccharine, and that makes it even more affecting, as there are certain truths that just sound better coming from a cynic. Jarvis Cocker is gentle but forthright, and though he is speaking for himself, it comes out sounding like advice for everyone. It starts with a feeling of resignation — “mum and dad have sentenced you to life” — but as it builds, the tone becomes increasingly defiant, til at the end Cocker sounds as though he is literally fighting for his life. The point here isn’t to hold on, but to endure and survive. If there’s any triumph to be had, it’s simply to overcome anything that tries to knock you down and take you out.

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The Flaming Lips “Convinced of the Hex”

“Convinced of the Hex” bleeps and thuds uncomfortably like a malfunctioning Silver Apples tune, but as mechanical as it sounds, it makes me think of the brain as a wet, throbbing organ running on sparks and jolts. The song’s textures suggest a splitting headache in the bits of grey matter that make you feel lonely, isolated, and trapped, but it also evokes the image of zapped, squishy flesh stuck in the tight, claustrophobic space of a skull. It’s gross, but also sorta groovy.

I am starting to think that my problem lately may be that I have become convinced of the hex. When I hear Wayne Coyne utter that phrase in this context, it sounds damning and vague but entirely correct. I focus on the worst, and make myself believe it. My mind is fogged with bad logic, and I poison myself with misdirected anger. I may be cursed, but increasingly, it seems self-inflicted. How do you become un-convinced of the hex? Wayne isn’t offering any clues here.

Visit the official Flaming Lips site.

Javelin “Tell Me, What Will It Be? (Take Two)”

Javelin is doing at least ten different things in this track to signify “pleasant, lazy rainy day” in my mind, and conveniently enough, it’s raining this morning and thus it feels absolutely perfect in this moment. I have no idea whether this song would feel the same for you, though. It’s hard to say exactly why a lot of these sounds push particular buttons in my mind, or what exactly about, say, this particular organ sound triggers memories and associations that are both weirdly specific and maddeningly vague in terms of origin. So much of how we respond to music is probably tied up in sense memories from our early youth we can barely recall or fully process. Lately I often wonder why, for example, certain types of melodies and textures trigger these Pavlovian responses in me, and turn off others, and vice versa. There are so many artists right now who have these sort of melodies that I can’t deny are melodies, but they do almost nothing for me, the tune just doesn’t register at all. I often think that it’s just that those droney, overly simplistic melodies are not very good, and write it off as “oh, this is for background listening purposes only” but you know, maybe it’s just that I just don’t have the memories required to appreciate it.

Visit the Javelin MySpace page.

Jay Reatard “It Ain’t Gonna Save Me”

If someone you knew told you the things Jay Reatard is singing in this song, you’d either do everything you could to talk them out of their depression and negativity, or want to just slap them in the face. Set to music, however, it’s a joy — the concentrated bitterness and aggravation in the lyrics are diluted by the song’s tunefulness, and the overall effect is to use everyday angst as fuel for a cathartic good time. Basically, this is why we have punk rock. Or, at least, the good punk rock. Hardcore generally gets the slap in the face.

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Kleerup featuring Lykke Li “Until We Bleed”

Lykke Li sounds tired and numb, maybe sick. She’s singing about love as if it were a poison, and in this case, it may very well be true. Andreas Kleerup’s arrangement is similarly drowsy, but his tones convey more potent emotions, adding layers of gut-wrenching anxiety, restlessness, and melancholy to the bleak lucidity of Li’s performance. It’s a heavy song, and it has the sort of intense gravity that can pull on your mood even if you’re feeling just fine and cannot relate to the situation at all. You’ve been warned.

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The Chap “Well Done You”

The lyrics sound like something your boss might tell you, or any other authority in a position to give you a compliment without any emotional value. The voice and the sentiment is neutral, but the music is tense and uneasy, and as the song plays out, the words seem increasing condescending and insincere. Perhaps it is not a good idea to listen to music that deliberately instills paranoia, and makes you question the banal kindness of most anyone at all. Surely, it can’t be healthy. Either way, this is quite good. Sinister and slick.

Visit the official website of the Chap.

Wilco @ Keyspan Park 7/13/2009

Wilco, The Song / I Am Trying To Break Your Heart / A Shot In The Arm / At Least That’s What You Said / Bull Black Nova / You Are My Face / One Wing / Handshake Drugs / Deeper Down / Impossible Germany / Jesus, etc. / Sunny Feeling / I’m Always In Love / Can’t Stand It / Hate It Here / Walken / I’m The Man Who Loves You / Hummingbird // Heavy Metal Drummer / You & I (with Leslie Feist) / California Stars / You Never Know / Misunderstood / Spiders (Kidsmoke) (with Yo La Tengo) /// The Late Greats / Hoodoo Voodoo

In case you missed it, I already wrote about the new Wilco album here. I’m not going to be talking about any of that today. I did make a point of mentioning the band’s chops and professionalism in that review, and that’s kinda crucial to discussing their live show as well. The difference is, while their precision can seem a bit dry and sterile on record, it’s maximized for beauty and drama in concert, and without any of the band members possessing an over-the-top charisma, they have a very high level of showmanship. You may think “Oh man, two and a half hours of Wilco, that could be kinda punishing,” but the entire duration demands your attention, whether they’re jamming out with Yo La Tengo on “Spiders,” going soft and delicate on “Impossible Germany.”

Wilco “You Are My Face” (Live from Ashes of American Flags)

I adore the lovely drift of these verses, but it would not mean nearly as much as when the tension builds up, tangling into knots, and snapping loose when Tweedy sings “I have no idea how this happens!” You need not understand or relate to any other word he sings in the song as long you connect with that feeling, like being in a daze and suddenly bolting up straight in your seat with what feels like an epiphany, but is much closer to the realization that you’re totally clueless. Then you drift off again…

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Yo La Tengo @ Keyspan Park 7/13/2009

? / Mr. Tough / ? / Little Eyes / Autumn Sweater / Periodically Double Or Triple / From A Motel 6 / ? / Tom Courtenay / The Story Of Yo La Tango

Yo La Tengo “Periodically Double Or Triple”

I’m going to assume that the songs I didn’t recognize were new ones from the forthcoming record, which sounds like it should be a pretty groovy record for them. I’m rather fond of “Periodically Double Or Triple,” mainly because I like when Yo La Tengo swings a bit, and the songs that allow Ira Kaplan to indulge in this sardonic tone of voice. I’m reserving judgment on this music until I hear the finished product, but I will say this: I will never ever ever ever be bored watching this band perform “Tom Courtenay.” It’s just never going to happen.

Here’s the Matador records website for Yo La Tengo.

Julian Plenti “Only If You Run”

1. “Julian Plenti” is Paul Banks, the main dude from Interpol, which is the quickest explanation as to why this sounds so much like Interpol.

2. At the same time, it doesn’t sound quite like Interpol. There is a wider range of sounds on this song, and even more so on the album, and it lacks the sterile formality of that band’s incredibly disappointing third LP.

3. It is difficult to listen to these Julian Plenti songs without getting the impression that the democratic collaboration of Banks’ regular band was holding him back. He might still enjoy working with those guys, but obviously he had some ideas that didn’t mesh with those players for whatever reason.

4. However, the thing is, nothing on this album would surprise you if it was actually credited to Interpol. It’s just more relaxed, and the arrangements are often more colorful and varied in texture. Banks can’t help but to sound exactly like himself — his melodic and lyrical style has become too recognizable, and his voice is too particular to pass for anything else.

5. Banks is very good at conveying a sort of blank sympathy with his voice, and that really comes through in “Only If You Run.” There’s a lot of goodwill in this song, but it is oddly muted. Nevertheless, the feeling rings very true.

6. I smile a bit every time I hear Banks sing that he has “tasted degradation.” This is mostly because I find it very easy to imagine this guy indulging in BDSM, but it’s also because I think of this song by Nine Inch Nails, and picture him with a fancy goblet of degradation at Trent Reznor’s Fountain of Decay.

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Julianna Barwick “Choose”

Looping and layering vocal tracks is nothing new, but Julianna Barwick’s compositions are so effective in subtly shifting familiar sounds that the soothing waves of her voice are at once comforting and vaguely alien. There is a strong minimalist influence in her work, and this track in particular sounds like it could be Steve Reich conducting a women’s choir, but the music is not stiff and academic. Quite to the contrary, it is difficult to escape the emotional pull in these songs, even when it is nearly impossible to accurately identify what feelings are being expressed. She’s tapping into something nebulous but potent, primal and mysterious, and you’ll understand it right away.

Buy it from Julianna Barwick.

Handsome Furs @ Music Hall of Williamsburg 7/8/2009

Legal Tender / Talking Hotel Arbat Blues / All We Want, Baby, Is Everything / Evangeline / I’m Confused / ? / White City / Nyet Spasiba / The Handsome Furs Hate This City / Radio Kaliningrad // Dead + Rural / ?

Handsome Furs “Talking Hotel Arbat Blues”

It’s probably difficult to watch a Handsome Furs show without feeling a bit of envy for Dan Boeckner and Alexei Perry: They are clearly doing their favorite thing with their favorite person, throwing themselves fully into the moment and enjoying every second of it. Boeckner’s body language is loose and relaxed, contrasting with the nervous energy in his voice. Perry is restless and spazzy, kicking and falling dramatically through the set, and being about 400% more physical than her task as a keyboard player and drum machine operator requires. The songs and the performances are intense, but in watching the show, your mind doesn’t go to a dark and desperate place. Instead, you just marvel at this couple’s wonderful chemistry, laugh at their banter, and smile when they display a deep gratitude for the very fact that you showed up to see them play in a city with a myriad entertainment options. Not everyone gets to live the dream like these two, but it’s pretty obvious that they deserve it.

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Chicks On Speed “Girlmonster”

I think that most everything that I love about Chicks On Speed would be the top reasons why most people would find them to be incredibly off-putting: Hooks so aggressively catchy that they may as well be jingles, over-the-top campiness, relentless sloganeering, an unapologetic obsession with modern art and feminism. I’m also rather fond of their voices and the way their accents contrast, particularly in a song like “Girlmonster” that shifts between them at a dizzying pace. You can dismiss this as pretentious fluff, but it’s your loss — if people are going to be so ostentatiously arty, why not also be silly and fun? I love these women.

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Cam’ron featuring Byrd Lady and 40 Cal. “Woo Hoo!”

Cam’ron is on this track, but he’s on a lot of songs, so nevermind him for now — I’m a lot more interested in his guests. Byrd Lady is a young MC from Harlem who is making her recorded debut on this song and the single “Cookies-N-Apple Juice,” and I’m very impressed by her performance on both cuts. Her voice and delivery reminds me a bit of Lil Kim, but she’s clearly her own person, and her verses ring out with a lot style, charm, and humor. She comes on authoritative and strong, but also quite playful, ending on a spoken bit punctuated with stifled laughs that kinda melts my heart. Apparently she’s working on a mixtape right now — I’m definitely interested.

Byrd Lady is followed by 40 Cal., a Diplomats rapper who turns in a vaguely odd verse that bounces between ostentatiously speedy rhyming and moments when he pauses for a few beats before finishing a thought. This is most amusing when he asks “What’s your favorite number?,” and in the few split seconds before giving an answer, your mind just stops cold, thinking “Wait, what is my favorite number? Should I know this? Is this slang? Am I old? Too square? What’s going on?” And then the answer: “40!” Oh, right! Of course. His name is 40 Cal.

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Sonic Youth @ United Palace 7/3/2009

Sacred Trickster / No Way / Calming The Snake / Poison Arrow / Tom Violence / Walkin’ Blue / Anti-Orgasm / Leaky Lifeboat / Antenna / Catholic Block / Malibu Gas Station / Massage The History / The World Looks Red // What We Know / Pacific Coast Highway /// Brother James / Death Valley 69

The last four Sonic Youth shows that I have seen have either featured all of Daydream Nation, or a large chunk of it, and so it was quite a relief that the band opted not to play anything from that record at the United Palace. The other notable thing about this show was that it was indoors, which has become something of a rarity for NYC-area Sonic Youth concerts in recent years. It was a nice change of pace — United Palace isn’t exactly my favorite venue, but it suited the darker, more intense oldies selected for this setlist. Aside from the meandering “Massage The History,” this show clearly favored tight, tense numbers with a lot more grit than the lighter, more sprawling songs favored during the Rather Ripped era. I’d prefer for the band to head off more in this direction — I’ve had my fill of beach blanket SY, and I have always had a great love of their more sinister material.

Sonic Youth “Calming The Snake”

Of all the songs from The Eternal, “Calming The Snake” is most certainly the best in concert, and I hope that they keep it around for years to come. The studio recording is excellent, but it does not fully convey the deepness of its slithering groove, or the urgency of its rhythm, particularly in its most jarring moments. I like the new album fine, but I would absolutely love it if it was more in the mode of this song — sweaty, sexy, scary, violent, unhinged.

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R.E.M. “Letter Never Sent” (Live in Chicago, 1984)

Like most everything else in the R.E.M. catalog, I have already written about this song. The thing is, even if you’ve decided very long ago to like a piece of music, it may not mean very much until some aspect of it somehow resonates with the circumstances of your life. This is the case for “Letter Never Sent,” a perfectly lovely number that I had always classified as a relatively minor album track, and still kinda do — obviously, I think very highly of a great many R.E.M. compositions. Either way, listening through the bonus live record with the new reissue of Reckoning, the song caught me by surprise. “Letter Never Sent” has a light, sunny bop to it, which serves to understate the loneliness at its core. It’s a song about missing people, and wishing that people could just be with you whenever you want them around, even as you come and go as you please. The line that rings out for me the most is in the chorus: “Heaven is yours where I live.” Well, yes, of course it is! Even if it’s a bit condescending, it’s always true from your perspective. Come here and make me happy, and of course you’ll be happy too! Ha, maybe that’s why Michael is knock, knock, knocking on wood.

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Grizzly Bear “Cheerleader”

The first several times I heard this song, I misheard the lyrics slightly, and the result is that I’m making the song mean something to me that it’s not actually saying. That’s fair game, though, especially when I’m responding to the melody and the sound of the chords more than anything else. The phrase I’ve inserted into the song is “I shouldn’t make it matter,” which is actually the opposite of what they are singing, but precisely what I need to keep in mind, particularly when in the sort of mellow emotional drift suggested by the arrangement. I need to keep reminding myself that while it is perfectly reasonable and totally human to have feelings of petty resentment, jealousy, and disdain, it is foolish and self-destructive to dwell on them, and to make those feelings matter more than what is actually good, meaningful, and relevant. The sound of “Cheerleader” fits into this sort of minor, blindingly obvious epiphany — there is tension, but it slowly dissipates, shifting from shrugging resignation to a sense of calm and security.

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Amazing Baby “Smoke Bros”

I’m pretty sure Amazing Baby do not want you to think too much while listening to this song. If they did, they probably would’ve at least spell-checked the word the singer is spelling out in the chorus. But really, why bother when the hook is so catchy and every other line is entirely inscrutable? It’s all surface and sensation, and that doesn’t have to be a problem. It’s sexy without being skeevy; it’s somehow rather smart about being very, very dumb. The song is like a very attractive person who could say anything at all, and you’d just nod along, smiling just to have their attention in the moment.

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Michael Jackson “The Way You Make Me Feel”

It would be a profound understatement to say that Michael Jackson had a very strange life. In fact, the man led perhaps the single most unlikely and bizarre life of all time, every step of the way entirely removed from what anyone could consider anything like a normal existence. This is a large part of his tragedy, but it is also something that highlights his uncanny gifts as a musician and entertainer: Somehow, despite being so totally estranged from the ordinary, he was capable of evoking and articulating the essence universal emotions, and not just in broad strokes. I am certainly not an expert on Jackson’s love life and would not ever want to be one, but I think it’s fair to assume that the scenario in “The Way You Make Me Feel” probably doesn’t match up with his own experience — the line “I’ll be workin’ from 9 to 5” is a give away — but the man could sell the sentiment of the tune without flaw, nailing the nuances of his character’s infatuation, excitement, and confidence. His musical skill was clearly innate and miraculous, but it would not have meant that much without this incredible gift for interpreting, simplifying, and at times totally abstracting emotional experience into something so potent and primal that it could be instinctively understood across nearly all cultural boundaries. The man probably never felt normal a moment in his life, but it really seems like he understood humanity, or at least enough to synthesize his observations into these brilliant, intuitive performances.

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