I am very excited to announce that the first-ever Fluxblog t-shirts are now available for pre-order from my special FluxTees mini-site. There are two designs — one by Ryan Catbird, based on the old Sonic Youth Washing Machine t-shirts, and the other is by cartoonist John Cei Douglas, and it is very cute and twee. I think they’re both top-notch, and that you will all look adorable wearing them.

I’m going to be real with you: If you buy one of these shirts, you’re going to be helping me out a lot. I’m a freelance writer without health insurance in a very dire economy, and money has been very tight in recent months. If you’re a fan of the site and all its satellite projects — the tumblr, the podcast, the mixes, Pop Songs 07-08 — now is the time to show your support. This isn’t a pledge drive, per se, but your purchase will go a long way towards keeping me from having to sell a kidney on the black market to pay the rent. Okay, probably not that, but you get the idea.

I will take pre-orders for 2-3 weeks, and then I’ll have the t-shirts made, and I hope to have them all sent out within 2-3 weeks of receiving them from the factory. I’m being somewhat cautious about this — doing this as a pre-order minimizes and/or eliminates problems with overstock, and allows you to get exactly the size that you want. Also, keep in mind that I will not be reprinting these designs. If this goes over well, I’ll probably have new designs down the line, but these are strictly limited edition.

Anyway! Fluxblog t-shirts! Buy them!

of Montreal @ Music Hall of Williamsburg 4/17/2009

The Past Is A Grotesque Animal / Nonpareil Of Favor / Gronlandic Edit / For Our Elegant Caste / She’s A Rejecter / I Was A Landscape In Your Dreams / Sink The Seine / Cato As A Pun / Labyrinthian Pomp / Beware Our Nubile Miscreants / The Wet Butcher’s Fist aka Coquet Coquet / Faberge Falls For Shuggie / October Is Eternal / Mingusings / An Eluardian Instance / Id Engager // Requiem For OMM2 / A Sentence Of Sorts In Kongsvinger / Moonage Daydream (with Janelle Monae)

The current version of the of Montreal concert spectacular: Fewer costume changes/much less nudity from Kevin; fewer musicians/more drum machine songs; brand new skits; greater emphasis on screens. There were three very large screens behind the band, and it had a somewhat immersive effect, akin to being up very close in a movie theater and losing your peripheral vision. This was particularly effective during “The Past Is A Grotesque Animal,” which felt a bit like being trapped with the band inside of an early 80s music video. I was also very fond of the inexplicable Christmas theme for “Nonpareil Of Favor.” Even with so much imagery, a lot of this is a blur in my memory — I mostly remember dancing and singing, and the enthusiasm of the girl I went with, who makes some of the best happy/wow faces anyone will ever see.

of Montreal “Beware Our Nubile Miscreants” (Acoustic Spinner Session Version)

Given how many “nice guys” struggle with sexual jealousy and resentment directed toward insensitive, selfish alpha male types, it seems as though there would be a lot more songs with the subject matter of “Beware Our Nubile Miscreants.” Of course, it’s hard to imagine very many would be as fun, or as self-aware, since it’s pretty clear from the needling, condescending tone that the character is kind of a prick in his own way. He seems to take just a bit too much pleasure in pointing out his rival’s enormous faults, and when he keeps going back to his central complaint — “you only like him cos he’s sexually appealing!” — he seems oblivious to the “no duh!”-ness of that observation. It makes him come off like something out of a Judd Apatow movie, i.e., a fantasy world in which sloppy, neurotic geeks are somehow entitled to sexually appealing women, and women are somehow made out to be the shallow jerks. Nevertheless, it can be very easy to relate to this character — some men are just so incredibly toxic, yet get rewarded with the affection of incredible women, and the unfairness of it all can be maddening.

Buy it from Polyvinyl Records.

Guido Möbius “Roosevelt Mayo”

ITINERARY:

00:00 – 00:16 Tentative electronic squeaking.

Look around the room nervously; feel unprepared.

00:17 – 00:48 Funk sequence with incomprehensible vocals.

Loosen hips and shoulders slightly, fret about whether or not you are wearing appropriate funk attire.

00:49 – 01:21 Dizzy percussion with nausea-inducing bass sound.

Tip over, get back on your feet.

01:22 – 02:02 Wait, is this actually Primus?

No, it’s not. It is not Tom Waits either.

02:03 – 02:41 Clangy plateau, with boings.

There is nothing that can be done here.

02:42 – 4:12 Horn time, with odd metallic scratching.

Smile; it’s horn time! Nevermind that scratching! Just keep smiling because it’s HORN TIME.

04:13 – 04:49 Cool down sequence.

Hang out, take a sip of water. Keep on your feet. Something is about to happen. Please stick around.

04:50 – 05:51 ☜ ↑☟☞ → ※ ⇧↩☝☜ ♺☺☟⇧‽‽‽∞

Thank you for coming!

Buy it from Amazon.

U2 “No Line On The Horizon”

“No Line On The Horizon” is just about the only song on the album of the same name that taps into the magic that defines U2’s best work, but it does so better than anything they have recorded since 1997, so I guess that’s something, right? Whereas most late-period U2 songs pin vague optimistic sentiment on to bright, wide-open sounds, “No Line…” has a darker tone and sounds like someone fighting hard to escape their doubt and frustration, and clinging desperately to some idealized person representing their hopes and aspirations. Taking the lyrics at face value, this person seems to be something of a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, and her insights are somewhat…cosmic. Her point — and Bono’s, of course — is essentially that the future is malleable, and so are we, and we should never feel as though our time is up while we’re still alive. As the song moves along, Bono sounds increasingly motivated, and by the end, he’s practically overflowing with excitement, and the feeling is contagious. Maybe this is what it’s like to be inside the head of a super-achiever?

Buy it from Amazon.

Animal Collective “Also Frightened”

Even though Avey Tare asks “Are you also frightened?” at the climax of this song, he does not seem at all fearful or cowardly. As the music sweeps up and his voice beckons out, it evokes a jolt of adrenaline, signals his bravery, and encourages our own. The sound answers his question: “Yes, maybe, but I don’t care. I’m going to do it anyway.” It’s the start of the adventure.

Buy it from Amazon.

Hanne Hukkelberg “In Here/Out There”

I’m not a panic attack sort of person, and I’m very grateful for that. I feel like I’m at a fairly even keel most of the time, and though I have my fair share of anxieties, they tend not to be overwhelming or disruptive. However, there are rare days when they are very disruptive, and I feel like a mess; like I’m not even myself. This is how it was for me yesterday. I’m not going to play dumb and say that there was no good reason for me to feel freaked out — I could make a small list — but the scale of that angst was suddenly, inexplicably much greater than normal, and difficult to shake.

A lot of music sounded awful in this state. I listened to PJ Harvey for a while, and though that felt right, it only seemed to escalate the intensity of my emotions. I had to stop with that. The new St. Vincent album, which I listen to quite a bit lately, felt right but took on a much darker tone than I’d previously noticed. Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion and James Rabbit’s Perfect Waves had a slightly pacifying effect, but didn’t quite resonate.

As I slowly came out of this feeling, I heard “In Here/Out There” by Hanne Hukkelberg, and I identified with it immediately. It’s not quite soothing — it’s slow, but rather nervous and twitchy — but it provides some measure of solace and commiseration, in part because Hukkelberg is singing about trying to get through fear and anxiety. Better still, as the song reaches its climax, it builds toward a final moment when all the pressure seems to disappear. Close your eyes, breathe steadily, loosen your body and…..it’s over. Just like that.

Buy it from Amazon.

Dogs Die In Hot Cars “Pop Nonsense”

“Pop Nonsense” is a very optimistic song, but it’s not about expecting desired outcomes so much as working hard for the things that you want, and being open to positive possibilities. The tone is bright and upbeat, but the mood is slightly anxious, with hints of doubt and insecurity mixing in with the singer’s self-directed pep talk. It’s not enough negativity to undermine the essential sentiment, but just enough to humanize both the singer and the song. The title seems to dismiss itself as being trite and banal, but that defensiveness is unnecessary — there is a balance of tone and elegance of structure in this music that feels honest and true, and not even slightly naïve. This is optimism for cynics.

Get the demos for Dogs Die In Hot Cars’ next album — and help finish them! — on the band’s official site.

Chain and the Gang “Unpronounceable Name”

Ian Svenonius is a writer, a musician, and a performer, but above all other things, he is a character. I have never met the man, but I’m willing to believe that he never lets the mask slip, and essentially just became the persona he created many years ago simply by living it every day. To be very clear, I’m not calling him a phony — I think that this is more or less what we all do in our lives, but that his affectations are much more bold and well-curated than most. Nevertheless, he is a distinct, larger-than-life character, and he’s out there walking around in the world, living his life every day. It’s funny to think of him in totally ordinary situations, or having to regularly engage with people who would just be confused or annoyed by his shtick.

Since it’s unlikely that we’ll ever see an Ian Svenonius reality television series, the best window we have into the world of Svenonius-the-character and/or Svenonius-the-man are songs like “Unpronounceable Name,” in which he presents himself within a scenario that could be fictional, but is just plausible enough to seem like a slice of his life. It’s a groovy little tune with a lively swing that suits him rather well, particularly as he plays the role of a romantic lead in pursuit of a woman with a name so difficult to pronounce that she becomes incredibly elusive, and nearly mythical.

Buy it from K Records.

Hammarin & Robin “Hell Knows I’m In Love”

Hammarin, the singer of this new pop duo from Sweden, has a tremendously flamboyant and theatrical vocal affectation, to the point where it’s easy to hear him and wonder if he’s just making fun of guys like Antony and Andy Bell from Erasure. Oh no no no no. This guy may be campy, but he’s incredibly sincere, and his style is perfect suited to the high drama of this song in which he weighs the pros and cons of committing himself to the notion of being in love. It’s about casting aside fear of pain, and taking the risk that it all may work out. His over-the-top delivery is precisely what the song demands — the arrangement, lyrics, and melody convey a very earnest yearning and an admirable measure of courage, and he just nails it, particularly as he resolves to go all in on the climax. Falling in love may be mundane as a statistical phenomenon, but on an individual level, it’s rare and special and momentous and terrifying, and this song is totally present in that state of mind.

Get the double a-side single for free from the Mad For It label.

Rubies “Stand In A Line”

There are two distinct modes in this song — a gentle groove with pretty arpeggiated guitar, and a somewhat uneasy disco chorus that picks up the pace while amping up the neuroses. I favor the verses. I suppose when given the choice I’d rather feel comfortable and pensive rather than vaguely nervous and confused. All the same, the transition between the two sections is musically and emotionally seamless, and the overall tone and effect recalls the Cardigans’ excellent hit “Lovefool.” “Stand In A Line” doesn’t have the same sort of giddy high, but it nearly matches the balance of casual grooviness and muted inner turmoil. When the song shifts back to the more mellow section only to bounce right back, it’s hard not to wonder if the sweet, relaxed bit only exacerbates the frustration expressed in the chorus.

Buy it via the Rubies MySpace page.

Bat For Lashes “Good Love”

“Good Love” is a thoroughly exhausting song, the kind that drags you into its dark, lonely emotional space whether you want to be there or not. The arrangement, both funereal and ethereal in tone, has a gravitational pull that is seductive and difficult to escape, but the most affecting thing is Natasha Khan’s vocal performance, which moves between heavily accented spoken passages and sung parts that convey a frustrated, incredibly painful sort of yearning. The pain seems to be the point. As Khan intones early on, her character needs sorrow like a drug, and so when she goes on to ask “Will I ever find that place they call good love?,” your heart just breaks for her, because it’s so clear that a heart addicted to misery is unlikely to ever find that love. It’s tragic. Who would need it more?

Buy it from Amazon.

Marina & The Diamonds “The Shampain Sleeper”

My first response to seeing that the word “champagne” is intentionally misspelled as “shampain” was to cringe, but now I think that in a silly sort of way, it was absolutely necessary. This is a song that is both knowingly preposterous and dead serious, and the spelling just adds to its brazen, super-glossy campiness. The melody sounds very anxious and the arrangement is almost absurdly taut, but it’s still a rather light song, in part because Marina is willing to go all out for a chorus as gloriously ridiculous as “drinking champagne / made by the angel / who goes by the name / of Glitterin’ Gabriel.” Oh, and that’s not even getting to the tea pun!

Visit the official Marina & The Diamonds MySpace page.

Charlotte Hatherley “White”

Charlotte Hatherley sounds as though she’s describing a pleasant dream — she’s in an immaculate, luxurious, impeccably designed room with a mysterious, seductive man who acts upon his attraction to her with style, and without hesitation. The lyrics are all images and sensations, provided without context but with precise, concrete detail. The song comes across like a lucid dream, with Hatherley blissfully lost in imagination and desire, but still somehow grounded in waking life. As the song slips from a dazed riff on the verses into a light disco reverie on the choruses, it feels like dancing about in a hypnagogic state, unsure of what’s real or not, but moving about in a peaceful haze. It’s an incredibly comfortable song, and perfectly evokes a kind of abstracted infatuation.

Visit the official Charlotte Hatherley site.

James Rabbit “In Love With The Idea”

I believe that on a fundamental level, all forms of creative expression are communicative in nature, and that most of my interest in art and music comes out of my desire to understand and relate to other people. This is probably part of why I love James Rabbit so much — this notion of writing music to communicate what we cannot convey in everyday human interactions is foregrounded in the majority of Tyler Martin’s songs. At least half of the songs on his band’s new album Perfect Waves are concerned with not only expressing emotions and ideas in music, but in revealing his desire to communicate with total clarity, and for the songs to have utility in the lives of his listeners. (The opening song, for example, is “If You Can’t Talk About It, Sing About It!,” which may as well be the band’s mission statement.)

Writing about writing can often result in a tedious strain of postmodernism, but Martin is like a reverse Charlie Kaufman, using his self-awareness as a way of directly expressing his wish to fully overcome shyness and dysfunction, and his verbal prowess to plainly articulate his unambiguous love for his partners and friends, and his goodwill toward total strangers. Despite the anxieties at the core of Martin’s writing, James Rabbit make some of the most optimistic and ecstatic music you will ever hear.

In just about every song, Martin rejects childish, cowardly misanthropy, and embraces the challenge to improve himself and become a better, more outgoing person. “In Love With The Idea,” one of the band’s best compositions to date, takes on the stress and confusion of wanting to connect with strangers in public places, but comes out sounding groovy, open-hearted, and vaguely Muppet-esque in its many joyous peaks. It’s not empty perkiness — the lyrics very realistically grapple with the neuroses that keep us from making social risks, but the music makes a strong argument in favor of the thrilling rewards that can come when we have the bravery to take big chances.

Visit the official James Rabbit website, and get the album for free from Last FM.

Super Furry Animals “Inaugural Trams”

I want to believe that this song exists because at least one member of the Super Furry Animals became obsessed with the word “trams,” and went out of his way to make sure that he could have the opportunity to say “trams” over and over in a song. Obviously, the sorta Krautrock vibe and campy German language interlude from Franz Ferdinand’s Nick McCarthy just came out of the tram concept — when we think of trains in music, it’s got to be a tribute to Deutschland, right? Of course! Still, I can imagine him being very cautious, and making sure that the song did not get too serious. It had to be bouncy and somewhat silly. It had to be something that perfectly captured the simple joy of saying the word “trams.” If this is the case, then they totally nailed it.

Buy it from Amazon.

Dirty Mittens “The Small Things”

At first, the horns in “The Small Things” seem like coloring, a nice touch in the arrangement of a perky, low key indie pop song more focused on its clean rhythm guitar, sweet vocals, and warm vintage organ melody. As it moves along, it becomes clear that the horns are the heart and soul of the piece, bleating passionately as the rest of the song is more measured and mannered. The horns seem like the most articulate aspect of the song, cutting through the clutter of thought and getting straight to the emotional truth. The brief full-on sax solo at the end is surprising, but also totally logical in context — after a few minutes dominated by the superego, it makes sense that the finale would be all id.

Buy it from the Dirty Mittens official site.

I think it’s pretty safe to say that today is a major turning point in the history of this site. After a little over seven years of documenting my taste in music and providing you with mp3s of my favorite songs, Fluxblog is going to have to switch gears and become a blog about…well, anything other than music.

Let me explain.

As some of you may know, I’ve recently started work as a freelancer for Pitchfork. I’ve been enjoying it, and it’s nice to work with a lot of people who I’ve been friends with for years now. The thing is, I had to sign a contract, and as it turns out, it’s kinda strict. Effective today, I am forbidden to write about music for anyone besides Pitchfork Media, and that includes my own sites. This will last until April 2011, unless I choose not to re-up, or if I can manage to renegotiate the contract.

In the meantime, I intend to keep this site going. It may be a bit of trial and error at first, but I’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s coming up. For instance, I plan to write more about my political views, and open up about my personal life and my experiences as a single guy living in the big city. I’ll probably end up sharing some memes, and some cute photos of my new kitten, Mr. Adorbs. I’m most excited about a new mini-blog that will replace the tumblr on the sidebar — Fluxburgr, a site documenting my quest to find the best cheeseburgers in New York City!

If you’re going to bail on the site now, I totally understand. I think for most people, this will always be a site about music, and I’m proud of what I achieved here over the past seven years. I’m extremely grateful to everyone who has ever read this site, not to mention all the artists who have been featured on it, and all my family and friends, who have supported me in this weird OCD project of mine that somehow turned into a career. I sincerely hope that you all follow my writing on Pitchfork, if that site is not already one of your daily must-reads.

I leave you with this — a video tribute that I made to say farewell to Fluxblog: The Music Years. I strongly recommend that you watch it.

Röyksopp featuring Lykke Li “Miss It So Much”

Lykke Li did a clever thing with this song. The sound of Röyksopp’s track is very sweet and sentimental but it also feels a bit mechanical and removed from reality, and so she tapped into that tension by penning lyrics about wanting to feel things intensely, but being trapped in an aloof, calculating, and emotionally muted state of mind. Her vocals are appropriately understated, but just sad enough to tug on the heart strings a bit, particularly when her most hyperbolic and dramatic lines are delivered with a flat, matter-of-fact inflection. She thinks that she feels numb, but it’s so abundantly clear that she’s overflowing with love and pain. You hear this song, and you just want to give her a hug.

Buy it from Amazon.

Peter Björn & John “Nothing To Worry About”

What I thought this song was about when I first heard it and was not really paying attention to the words: Sex, or being sexy. That’s mostly got to do with the rhythm, and the flirty, slinky inflections in Peter Moren’s voice. Also, most songs are in some way about sex, so it’s a good guess.

What I thought when I saw the lyrics printed out: Wait, are they on some kind of Ayn Rand trip? Probably not, but the sentiment of this song is incredibly smug, condescending, and unforgiving. He’s probably singing about a bitter ex, but I think it’s pretty easy to take this as being some successful, handsome, stylish European musician demanding that the rest of the world refrain from bumming him out with negative vibes.

My impression of what the song is expressing now, factoring in both impressions: Petulant sexiness, I guess.

Buy it from Amazon.

Men “Off Our Backs”

JD Samson’s new post-Le Tigre project comes closer to the sound of that band’s remixes than proper album recordings — think the DFA remix of “Deceptacon,” rather than “Deceptacon” itself. With its staccato vocal rhythms and neon synth tones, “Off Our Backs” actually comes close to feeling like an English language variation on Yelle, but there’s a different sort of tension in the music. Whereas Yelle songs tend to be rather brash and direct, the structure of “Off Our Backs” suggests a series of emotional and intellectual tangents. Check out, for example, the way the song builds up to a chorus in its first minute only to defer on that pleasurable catharsis and pace around for a few measures before starting another verse. It feels a bit like wanting to say something very badly, but biting your tongue, not only out of tactful consideration, but to pause and think everything through. When the chorus comes around, it feels emphatic and true, as if the thought has been revised to the point it is totally incontrovertible.

Visit the Men MySpace page.

U.S.E. “All The World”

Aside from changing their name from United State of Electronic to the far less dorky acronym U.S.E., Seattle’s greatest joycore party band have not changed all that much in the time since they released their debut album in 2004. “All The World,” the first single from their forthcoming sophomore record, is essentially the ultimate U.S.E. song in that it concentrates all of the band’s strengths into a single, concise four and a half minute blast of pop euphoria. It’s almost like ticking off a checklist:

Are there colorful synths and disco beats, kinda like a rock band version of Daft Punk? Check.

Is there a hook sung through a vocoder? You got it, bro!

Got any ultra-clean skyscraper-sized rhythm guitar riffs? But of course!

Is the chorus sung by a girl with an assertive, yet super-sweet voice? Yes! Yes! Yes!

Do the lyrics imagine a utopia full of dancing and limitless joy? Dude, it’s U.S.E.! Do you even need to ask?

They’re not breaking any new ground here, but I can’t imagine that anyone would actually want these people to change.

Visit the official U.S.E. website.

Nine Inch Nails “Not So Pretty Now”

When Trent Reznor bitches people out in his lyrics, do you ever feel — if just for a moment! — like he’s actually angry at you? Though it’s pretty clear in this song that he’s calling out a vain, formerly beloved star too deluded to notice they are past their prime, there’s something in his voice and the sheer force of the track that forces the listener to take the brunt of the attack, even if the invective is actually intended for Courtney Love, Marilyn Manson, or hell, Reznor himself. I suppose we’re all just collateral damage in the Godzilla vs. Mothra-esque battle of rock star egos.

Get it for free, along with another new NIN song and material from Jane’s Addiction and Street Sweeper from the NIN/JA 2009 site.

Patrick Wolf “Vulture”

The wonderful thing about Patrick Wolf right now is that it’s very hard to tell where his campiness ends and his seriousness begins. “Vulture” is an excellent goth synthpop number, and exactly the sort of song that benefits greatly from a performer fearless enough to fully commit to a cartoonishly dark and depraved tone knowing full well that he’s probably going to come out seeming at least a little bit silly. It certainly helps that Wolf’s composition and arrangement is perfectly executed, from its general vibe of pervy menace on down to its exceptionally strong chorus and ruthlessly effective “80’s dance party” beat.

Buy it in June from Bandstocks.

Vampire Hands “No Fun”

When I first heard this song, there was no doubt in my mind that the singer was a woman. I was wrong. It’s actually a dude, which I suppose is not totally unfathomable — I was thinking that the voice was similar to that of Celebration’s somewhat androgynous Katrina Ford, who often reminds me of Robert Plant — but I still find it hard to imagine, or at least picture. “No Fun” is floaty and relaxed, but also rather substantial and physically urgent as a result of its busy, ever-shifting percussion. The arrangement strikes a perfect balance of turbulence and tranquility, with the contradictory states leveling out enough to imply a peaceful acceptance of conflict and change.

Visit the Vampire Hands MySpace page.

The Decemberists “The Rake’s Song”

Colin Meloy’s nasal, needling, nerd-like voice tends to miss the mark when he plays the part of the heroic protagonist in his songs, but it is very well suited to portraying villains and creeps, as he does in this atypically simple verse-chorus-verse rocker from the Decemberists’ latest album of English folk/prog/metal amalgamations. “The Rake’s Song,” a tune sung from the perspective of an effete widower recounting the way he murdered his young children in order to gain freedom from responsibility, gives Meloy full license to chew the scenery, and to allow the least attractive elements of his voice to become an asset in selling the character. He sounds perfectly smug and affected, which in combination with the unrepentant creepiness of the lyrics adds up a sort of refined menace comparable to Michael Emerson work as Lost‘s primary antagonist Benjamin Linus.

Buy it from Amazon.