Holy Ghost! “Hold On” – This is city music. Specifically, this is New York City music. Holy Ghost! don’t even try to hide that in the lyrics. It’d be like putting a rubber George W Bush mask on a large house cat and trying to fool a visiting dignitary that it was, in fact, the president of the United States. (I CAN HAS EXEKUTIVE POWERZ?) This is smoothed out, urban disco angst, drawing heavily from the past, but lustfully ogling the future. We always build new stuff on top of history here; there’s only so much space. We can always make new history, and at the end of time, the entire city can be like a giant layer cake of cultural significance. (Click here to buy the mp3 release from Bleep and here to buy the 12″ from Midheaven.)

T2 featuring Jodie “Heartbroken (Radio Edit)” – T2’s track is effervescent and immediately engaging, but it wouldn’t work quite as well without Jodie’s girlish, slightly wounded vocal performance. This is about a young sort of heartbreak, something that stings because it’s lacking in context, and so minor consequences seem enormous. There’s some awareness of that in her voice, but she conveys too much in-the-moment angst for it to come off like emotional nostalgia. (Though that’s exactly how we’re supposed to respond to it.) Her voice skips over T2’s bouncy bass and beats like it’s a jump rope, and the coy playfulness keeps the track from falling too deep into melancholy. (Click here for the T2 MySpace page.)

Elsewhere: How bad can comic books get? REALLLLLLLLLLLY BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD.

The B-52’s @ Roseland Ballroom 10/31/2007
Party Out Of Bounds / Mesopotamia / Pump / Private Idaho / Ultraviolet / Give Me Back My Man / Strobe Light / Julia of the Spirits / Roam / Funplex / Hot Corner / Channel Z / Keep This Party Going / Love Shack // Planet Claire / Rock Lobster / Love in the Year 3000

I promise you that the fact that I posted about both the B-52’s and the Rapture just recently was a total coincidence — I didn’t even know that this show was happening til the morning I wrote up that remix of “The Sound.” It’s just a really lucky thing for me given that I just happened to be listening to the B-52’s quite a bit lately, apropos of nothing at all.

The B-52’s are about as rad as you might imagine in person. Sure, they’re older now and can’t quite muster the full-on energy on display in footage of them in their prime, but they still bring it hard. It should come as no surprise that they were at their best on the seven new songs in the set, all of which were instantly enjoyable and very B-52’s-ish without sounding as though they’ve been locked in a time capsule and hidden away from the influence of the past twenty years of pop music. Clearly they have a lot of confidence in the new material, or at least enough for unheard material to take up nearly half of last night’s set, squeezing out classics like “Dance This Mess Around,” “52 Girls,” “Hero Worship,” and “Quiche Lorraine.” The oldies that were performed were just as fun as I’d hoped, though “Love Shack” was a tiny bit disappointing with its slightly slowed-down arrangement.

The B-52’s “Give Me Back My Man” – This song, though — wow! Understandably, they weren’t able to recreate the particular brittle, hollow sound of the original studio recording that I love so much, but the wounded feeling of song was intensified by the thicker sound of the live guitar, and a bold vocal performance by Cindy Wilson that made the most of the fact that her voice is not nearly as girlish as it was back in 1980. (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)

The Rapture @ Roseland Ballroom 10/31/2007
Don Gon Do It / Down For So Long / Get Myself Into It / Sister Savior / The Devil / Piece of the People We Love / Whoo! Alright – Yeah… Uh Huh / House of Jealous Lovers / First Gear / Olio

The Rapture “Pieces of the People We Love (Live in SoHo 2006)” – Sure, the audience may have been a lot more nuts for their show at Webster Hall almost exactly a year ago, but this was definitely the best performance by the Rapture that I’ve witnessed. It was the sort of thing where you just have to be in awe of how completely they control those songs, and how much joy and effort they put into them even though they’ve been playing them over and over for the past year or two. All that, and the sound was fantastic, and LOUD. It’s become pretty obvious to me that the band deliberately mix the drums much louder than what would be considered normal, and the effect is very powerful and visceral, though it’s also potentially quite dangerous to the hearing of anyone in the audience. (My ears are still ringing and I was in the middle of the hall.) (Click here to buy the original version from Amazon, and here to buy the full session from iTunes.)

Feu Thérèse “Nada” – Sometimes a language barrier can be a good thing. Without understanding the bit of French being sung at the start of this moonlit ballad, the song’s mysterious, romantic quality is intensified considerably. When the piece shifts into a wordless chant, it becomes even more magical, and the gorgeous textures of the bass, keyboards, and percussion take center stage until it all just sort of evaporates into the night. (Click here to buy it from Constellation.)

Poni Hoax “Antibodies (To The Bones edit)” – There are other mixes of “Antibodies,” but this is only one you really need because it retains the basic shape, vocal performance, and rhythm of the original version while trimming out the fat from its arrangement. Without getting clogged up with funk guitar and redundant keyboards, the track comes off as far more spooky and decadent. The spareness suits the throbbing bass line, and the grandeur and elegance of the piano and synthetic strings on the chorus is increased tenfold. (Click here to buy it from Juno.)

White Magic “Very Late” – Her piano notes may rise and fall throughout this song, but Mira Billotte’s voice seems eerily calm, still, and matter-of-fact. She’s carrying a great emotional weight, but she underplays it, reflecting the stoicism of a person who can’t bear to give too much away but still needs to express something, anything. “Very Late” takes place within a relatively quiet moment, but she hints at drama in the subtext of her words, and the gravity of her vocal delivery. (Click here to buy it from Drag City.)

Sarah Blasko “For You” – From the beginning to the end, “For You” is dominated by the slow hum of an exceptionally frigid synthesizer tone. Even as the song progresses, it can never quite shake off the desolation and loneliness implied by that incessant buzz, and so when Blasko sings about traveling across the ocean for someone, it’s hard not to imagine her swimming across a vast expanse of icy water, and falling still in the darkest, emptiest spot between two continents. (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)

Velella Velella “Flight Cub” – Velella Velella are the musical spawn of Warp, Mo Wax, and Quannum; a live funk band who arrive at the genre via a generation of crate-digging DJs and electronic musicians sampling, interpolating, and mimicking the grooves of old records. Rather than freak out about authenticity, the band carries on with the new aesthetic, and rightfully so — the reason any of us ever cared about the likes of DJ Shadow, Squarepusher, Luke Vibert et al in the first place was that there was a particular sound to those records that was fundamentally different from the artist’s source material. Whereas it seems that most people view late 90s downbeat electronica as an aesthetic cul de sac or a form of musical necromancy, Velella Velella seem intent on using the previous generation’s manipulation and recontextualization of classic funk recordings as a blueprint for a new sort of music that never had to be specific to artists dependent on laptops, samplers, and turntables.

Most of the elements in the arrangement of “Flight Cub” seem to be floating around, and though the bass line seems to be the track’s center of gravity, even that part feels as though it is hovering just above the ground. Despite its calm, loose feeling, the song is rather tightly composed, with its duet vocals, smooth melodies, and relaxing textures flowing up and through the piece with the subtlety and grace of an expertly performed magic trick.(Click here for the official Velella Velella site.)

Elsewhere: Erik Bryan offers some erroneous biographical info about Sissy Wish on the Morning News:

Rocketing to stardom in the mid-’50s by meat magnate, famed producer, and then-husband Leland “Porks” McLaughlin, Sissy Wish (born Sally Hope) was able to hide her socially unsettling condition (she was born without a face) from all but her closest friends and family until an ill-advised performance on The Steve Allen Show in 1959 where she was set to perform her hit song, “Beauties Never Die,” but could not due to an ensuing riot after Allen himself declared her the “worst abomination a vengeful God could muster.” She proves her song’s rule by celebrating her 70th birthday this year.

Also: In light of discovering the epidemiological term “John Henryism,” Jack Feerick wonders: What other previously unidentified conditions might be found within the bars of our folk and pop songs?

And: This is why I love Jezebel and hate American Apparel.

The Rapture “The Sound (Ben Trucker’s Back To 95 Mix)” – Before I get into the remix, I need to mention straight away that I think the original album version of “The Sound” is one of the most perfectly arranged, recorded, and mixed songs of the past few years. Really, all of Pieces of the People We Love sounds amazing, but “The Sound” is the song where the Rapture’s intelligence about their craft, skill level, and knack for working with top-notch producers and engineers yield a track that seems to burst forth from the speakers and attack the listener’s central nervous system. It’s bold, visceral, and dynamic in a way that makes me wonder why it seems like everyone else is recording their albums in 2D and black and white.

On top of all that, Matt Safer’s lyrics are kinda brilliant. Most of the words come from the perspective of label people and producers, all of whom are doing their best to help his band make an album, even if they can sometimes seem silly or condescending. Though that may seem like a recipe for irksome petulance, “The Sound” is remarkably even-handed and mature. There are moments of parody, frustration, and excitement, but no one gets demonized for making the group scrap old sessions, rework material, and work overtime to develop potential hits. If anything, Safer seems grateful for being pushed harder, and pleased with the results. He ought to be.

Ben Trucker’s remix seamlessly mixes the most crucial aspects of the song — Safer’s vocals and hooks, the particular sound of the processed guitars — and seamlessly folds it into a straight-up house banger that would be compelling all on its own. The song can’t help but toss you around, but Trucker has smoothed it out, and made it less aggressive without losing much of the adrenaline. (Click here to buy the original version from Amazon, and here for the Throne of Blood MySpace page. People in NYC should note that the Rapture are playing a show with the B-52s next Wednesday at Roseland. OMGWTF, right?)

Bonde Do Role “Solta O Frango (CRSTBL Rmx)” – Not unlike Ben Trucker’s Rapture remix, CRSTBL leaves the vocal hooks of Bonde Do Role’s original completely intact, and switches out their dense beats for a sparse rhythm that props up a sharp keyboard riff that serves to sweeten up their melodies. It’s not as though they weren’t already plenty sweet — CRSTBL’s remix comes off a bit like pouring a cup of syrup on a bowl of Skittles. (Click here to buy the original version from Amazon, or here for CRSTBL’s MySpace page.)

Elsewhere: My final Hit Refresh column is up on the ASAP site with mp3s from the Fiery Furnaces, White Williams, and the Junior League.

Also: Prepare to get [oRiFIcE]fReAk3d by Criss Angel.

The New Pornographers @ Webster Hall 10/24/2007
All The Things That Go To Make Heaven and Earth / Use It / Myriad Harbor / Electric Version / All The Old Showstoppers / Jackie Dressed In Cobras / Challengers / The Laws Have Changed / The Spirit Of Giving / My Rights Versus Yours / Mass Romantic / Adventures In Solitude / Testament To Youth In Verse / Unguided / Twin Cinema / Go Places / Sing Me Spanish Techno / The Bleeding Heart Show // Jackie / From Blown Speakers / Slow Descent Into Alcoholism /// Streets Of Fire / Letter From An Occupant

The New Pornographers “Adventures In Solitude” (MPR Session, 10/17/2007) – My initial reaction to Challengers was something a little bit like this, but within a couple weeks and over the course of the past few months, my estimation of the record has grown considerably. I’m not ever going to love it as much as their first three albums, but I don’t think that was ever going to be an option given that the songs on those records are inextricably tied to a lot of happy memories and key moments from the past seven years of my life. I can’t expect that group to be frozen in amber, stuck in that moment for me, and if they don’t change, I don’t think I would have as much use for them beyond nostalgia.

A crucial realization that I had while watching them play last night was that the songs I got the most out of were new favorites like “Myriad Harbor,” “All The Old Showstoppers,” and “Adventures In Solitude,” and not as much the oldies burdened with my sentimental baggage — “The Laws Have Changed,” “Sing Me Spanish Techno,” “Twin Cinema,” “Letter From An Occupant.” Don’t get me wrong, I loved the hell out of them, but it more like muscle memory than a direct emotional response. Dan Bejar singing “all I ever wanted help with WAS YOU!” in “Myriad Harbor” and Kathryn Calder’s lead vocal on the second half of “Adventures In Solitude” moves me in the 2007s the way “I refused my call, pushing my lazy sails into the blue flame” hit me in 2005, and “form a line to the throne!” was something worth shouting in 2003.

(It’s worth noting that just as on Challengers, Bejar and Calder totally stole this show from Carl and Neko. As they become more confident and distinct, the overall quality of the band improves. At this point in time, I think Calder nearly rivals Case as a vocalist, and she’s still so young!)

I think that first freak-out moment upon hearing Challengers had little to do with the music, and everything with the perception of what the band, and Carl Newman in particular, seemed to be doing. For one thing, there was a worry that they’d moved away from something they did better than any of their contemporaries — bombastic super-charged pop rock — in favor of something softer and limper in an attempt to chase the commercial success enjoyed by the Shins. Also, there was a sense of “oh no, they are trying to be mature!,” which often doesn’t work out for people, mainly because they, well, aren’t actually mature songwriters.

The reality of Challengers is that band actually can pull this stuff off, and it’s a fairly organic progression from what they were doing on Twin Cinema. I think that Newman certainly has some healthy ambition and a desire to sell some records, but I think this is sincere music that flows naturally from his current taste and personal life, not to mention the considerable skill level of his band. The music isn’t even all that different from what came before it — even the gentlest, prettiest numbers hit dramatic crescendos, and the group’s knack for harmony is never wasted. (Click here to buy Challengers and the other three New Pornographers albums from Matador.)

Elsewhere: For those of you who enjoyed the comments box from yesterday’s post, Eric Harvey has written a very intelligent essay about the culture of Oink.

Dragonette “I Get Around (Midnight Juggernauts Remix)” – The first time that I ever heard Dragonette was when they opened up for New Order at the Hammerstein Ballroom a few years ago, and my immediate impression of them was that they came across like a mash-up of every cool song that could’ve been played at a high school dance in the mid-80s, but that everyone in the band was a bit too young to have actually been a teenager at that time. This remix by Midnight Juggernauts pulls the song closer to their particular dayglo dance pop aesthetic, but also exaggerates the sense that this music is a sort of false memory by endlessly pounding its sparkling hook over and over. You know how you can kinda half-remember an old song and only recall its most obvious hook, to the point that if you hear the actual song you can be surprised that there was actually more to the tune? This track is mostly just the part that you’d remember twenty years from now. (Click here to buy it from Kitsune.)

Also: I didn’t really ask for this, but there’s yet more arguing about the demise of Oink and the rampant entitlement of its users in the comments box. If you’re interested in that sort of thing, have at it, but be aware that I’m getting really tired of arguing with people about this at this point.

Lil’ Wayne “Put Some Keys On That” – You know what? I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I really doubt that Lil’ Wayne is being at all sincere when he says that he “just realized” that people can’t fuck with him at the start of this track. Actually, I’m fairly convinced that there probably hasn’t been any time in the past few years when Wayne has not been totally aware of his often exasperating skill level as a rapper. “Put Some Keys On That” is the work of a guy totally thrilled by his own talent — there’s just no hiding the pleasure he takes in stringing together his lyrics, or how he often seems surprised and amused by his own tangents. There are so many moments in the track where his rhyme threatens to either collapse or grow repetitive, but he keeps fearlessly pushing onward, as if he’s hell bent on finding something brilliant buried in the back of his head. (Click here to get it from Mix Tape Pass.)

Archers of Loaf “Let The Loser Melt” – The Archers of Loaf’s 1995 album Vee Vee overflows with skepticism and resentment, mainly directed at a music culture focused on consuming artists alive in a greedy, self-serving hype cycle that reduces art and youth culture to a cheap, disposable commodity. The record comes from the perspective of an indie punk band who seem proud to speak for non-careerist “underachievers,” sarcastically lament the passing of “the world’s worst rock and roll band,” and toss the word “overrated” around like a dart intended to puncture the bloated ego of anyone involved in celebrating mediocrity. Twelve years later, Vee Vee sounds more relevant than ever before; a bitter testament to the old cliché: The more things change, the more they stay the same.

The thing is, Vee Vee may now seem like a prescient album, but it’s very much of its time. People complain endlessly about today’s internet hype cycle, but the only thing that’s really changed about fan culture in the past 20 years is the speed at which it progresses. The internet is simply a medium that accelerates a process that’s been going on ever since anything that can considered “indie” or “punk” or “alternative” became a marketable commodity.

The Archers of Loaf wrote Vee Vee while the record industry was still in the midst of the gold rush to find more Nirvanas, and A&R people were desperately snapping up cult bands and indie acts in the hopes of scoring a fluke hit. In this era, the stakes are much lower — no one is expecting to pull Nirvana numbers, that’s for sure — but more people than ever are looking for a way to stake a claim on artists who could reach…well, ANY… level of success.

It’s not just about directly making money off an artist’s work now; the new music market is increasingly driven by a sort of reputation economy based on building a portfolio of acts that read as part of a publication’s “brand,” and then doing everything possible to pump up the audience’s awareness and expectations in order to make them seem like a success. It’s almost irrelevant whether or not those people actually sell records — it’s not a magazine, television show, radio program, or blog’s concern to move units or make an artist money, it’s just about perpetuating the notion that THEY are the ones out there discovering this HOT NEW MUSIC. “Taste makers” have to constantly build their brand if they hope to parlay what they do into a career, and so there’s an ongoing need to dig around for something new to push, even when the underground is overcrowded (ha, see what I did right there, Archers fans?) with rival taste makers and unremarkable musicians.

It’s not just the writers, though. The audience is full of people doing the same exact thing on a smaller scale, and while they might follow blogs, webzines, and college/public radio DJs so far, they often need to establish their own identities by ostentatiously rejecting consensus-builders like Pitchfork and Stereogum. This has always been the case — rewind to the Archers’ era, and it’d be people bitching about Spin or 120 Minutes. (Fun fact: I found the Archers of Loaf via MTV, I think it was actually on an episode of Alternative Nation.)

When it comes to art that is practically defined by it falling on the outskirts of the mainstream, the audience is almost always going to be comprised of people just waiting for the right moment to get into backlash mode. They kid themselves into believing that they sincerely care about the art, but what they really love is the social capital of hipness, and can’t afford to put too much of themselves into something that may become unfashionable. This is the real problem, if we’re going to be very honest — at the root level, indie/alternative/college rock/blog rock/whatever you want to call it is poisoned by the vanity of its audience, and as a result, the industry built around it will always be unstable, and the culture around the music will be dominated and debased by swarms of self-styled experts attempting to one-up one another. As a wise man once said: “This ain’t a scene, this is a god damn arms race.” (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)

Elsewhere: It might only be up on the WFMU site for one week, so please do check out the archive of my appearance on Trent Wolbe’s Safe and Sound show while you can. We talk a bit about my Pop Songs 07 site, and play about three hours worth of R.E.M. songs. Not to be all Jarvis Cocker about this, but I suggest that you refrain from looking at the playlist whilst listening to the show.

M.I.A. @ Terminal 5, 10/18/2007
Bamboo Banga / World Town / XR2 / Pull Up The People / Sunshowers / 20$ (with “Blue Monday” sequence) / Jimmy / 10$ (with “Sweet Dreams” sequence) / (Ry Ry performs “Shake It To The Ground” in full with DJ Blaqstarr) / Bucky Done Gun / Bird Flu / Hussel (with Afrikan Boy, who becomes a hype man for the rest of the show) / Paper Planes / Boyz / Galang (with a bit of “Lipgloss”) // Amazon / URAQT

M.I.A. “Boyz (Live on KCRW 8/2/2007)” – The venue was overcrowded and uncomfortable, everything smelled like wet paint, and M.I.A. went on way too late after the doors opened, leaving most of the audience just kinda standing around while a DJ played for several hours. But aside from that…wow! Wildly enthusiastic crowd, great performance, brilliant video art designed for each song. I really wish that I could’ve been down on that packed floor to get the full effect, but once I managed to get into a position where I could actually see what was going on, it was all good.

The most notable and exciting part of the show came when M.I.A. brought about 100 people from the audience on stage to dance along with “Bird Flu.” It was pretty crazy — people just kept coming up, to the point that it was hard to spot her on the stage. They were forced to make them all leave after the song was over, resulting in a slightly awkward gap between songs, but it was certainly worth it for the spectacle. It all seemed rather unrehearsed, and they didn’t seem to be prepared for the ramifications — I’m assuming that she doesn’t do this sort of thing very often, or at least not with so many people?

I rarely post photographs from concerts — mainly because they almost always look so incredibly dull — but a few of my friends shot pictures at this show, and I think they get across the sheer bonkersness of the “Bird Flu” sequence than anything I can say right now since my mind is still a bit fried.

(photos by Trent Wolbe)

(photo by Chris Conroy)


(photos by Mark Jones)

(Click here to buy Kala from Amazon for $7!)

Sissy Wish “Beauties Never Die” – It’s not necessarily our responsibility to make sure that our partners and loved ones are happy, but it is often what we desire and set out to accomplish. I mean, that’s what love really is, right? Support, affection, being there. That’s what this song is about — “it takes some time to build you up and make you happy every day.” It’s effort, it’s perseverance, it’s the emotional investment. It’s the disappointment of feeling like you’re failing someone even when there’s only so much you can do to lift someone up if they’re depressed, stressed, sick, or otherwise troubled. There’s no self-pity in this song, no sense that the singer feels martyred or put-upon. It’s all love. Quiet, gentle love. (Click here to buy it from House of Telle.

Elsewhere: My penultimate Hit Refresh column is up on the ASAP site with mp3s from Iron & Wine, Anna Järvinen, and Grizzly Bear.

Hot Springs “38th Adventure” – True to its title, “38th Adventure” is filled with romance, excitement, and danger, but from the perspective of its eccentric character, it’s just everyday life. It’s hard to get over the singer’s sense of awe in this song — she seems so impressed by this strange bohemian quasi-hobo girl, and not necessarily in a condescending “oh, you live closer to the earth, you’re the one who has really got this figured out” sort of way. It’s more like she just envies the courage it takes to live a life of constant risk, and is taking inspiration from her rather than getting down on herself, or seeking to directly emulate this woman’s lifestyle. The song itself is rather odd, sounding somewhat like The Strokes fronted by a drunken woman doing a slightly-off Bjork impression. It maybe shouldn’t work, but it falls together nicely. (Click here to buy it from Aquarius Records.)

Elsewhere: Mike Barthel presents a pictorial review of Anton Corbijn’s Ian Curtis biopic Control.

Malcolm McLaren “Love Will…” – I went to see Anton Corbijn’s Ian Curtis biopic with a few of my friends over the weekend, and we all came out of it agreeing on three things:

1) Despite co-writing exactly one great song (“Love Will Tear Us Apart”), being an epileptic, getting married at a very young age, and committing suicide at 23, Ian Curtis was a dreadfully dull human being. Maybe that’s an overstatement, but there’s certainly not enough in his brief life to support the plot of a feature-length film.

2) We would have rather seen a movie about Bernard Sumner, who is at least twice as fascinating and about twenty times more talented than Curtis. Seriously, why do we need another iteration of the TRAGIC YOUNG ROCK STAR story when we could instead explore the inner workings of a dorky weirdo like Sumner? Or hell, what about Peter Hook? That guy is more interesting too. Even another movie about Tony Wilson would’ve been better.

3) The film is just awful; basically a pretentious tv movie. Granted, virtually all biopics are terrible — how could they not be when they are nearly always super-linear hagiographies with no real narrative momentum — but Control is an embarrassing mess of cliches, on-the-nose musical cues, and trite sentimentality. Really, don’t bother, even if you totally love Joy Division.

The B-52’s “Dance This Mess Around” – So what would be a better biopic? How about something that doesn’t attempt to force someone’s history into a neat arc? How about a movie that attempts to either express a thought about or emulate the feeling of a subject rather than provide a slanted history lesson? For example, imagine a film that captured the feeling of the B-52’s music and would put you in the context of their early career, as if you’re just a fly on the wall at one of their early gigs. No mythologizing, no attempts to tug at the viewers’ heartstrings by bringing up Ricky Wilson’s eventual AIDS-related death, but instead a celebration/investigation of a singular aesthetic, and of a time and a place. Maybe the world needs a movie that challenges its audience to reject the notion that misery and tragedy is what defines a great artist, and makes a case that eccentric, party-loving, ultra-kitschy, queer oddballs from the south capable of making a lyric like “I’m not no Limburger!” seem urgent and crucial have just as much (if not a lot more) to offer us than any given suicidal sad sack. (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)

Of Montreal @ Roseland Ballroom 10/13/2007
So Begins Our Alabee / Rapture Rapes The Muses / The Party’s Crashing Us / Gronlandic Edit / Suffer For Fashion / Forecast Fascist Future / Exquisite Confessions / Lysergic Bliss / We Can Do It Softcore If You Want / She’s A Rejecter / October Is Eternal / Oslo In The Summertime / Mingusings / My British Tour Diary / Bunny Ain’t No Kind Of Rider / I Was Never Young / Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse // Requiem For OMM2 / Faberge Falls For Shuggie / The Repudiated Immortals

If you’ve never been to the Roseland Ballroom, you need to know that it’s a very large venue, and it’s kind of a big deal that Of Montreal sold it out, and that the overwhelming majority of the people on the floor were dancing, singing along, pumping their fists and flipping out for the duration of their set. It’s also worth noting that a large number of the people in the audience were very young — teenagers, college undergrads — and their excitement for the show and emotional commitment to the songs was obvious, intense, and beautiful. The band have a new, more elaborate stage set for this tour, and though it didn’t stray too far from the thrift store surrealist spectacle of the previous round of touring, it was a clear sign that they’d come up in the world since Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? was released back in the early winter. There was a potent feeling of triumph to this show, but it wasn’t just about the band — the success of the record is so tied up in how people identify with it that it was also about the audience, and the commiseration and validation of this communal experience. “Let’s all melt down together,” indeed.

The three new songs were absolutely fantastic, by the way. They aren’t too far off from Hissing Fauna in style and substance, but it’s all a bit more glittery and extreme. Kevin Barnes has got his Georgie Fruit on, and there’s no question that it will get the crispest possible endorsement from the C.C.A.A. Booty Patrol.

Of Montreal “She’s A Rejecter” – “The girl of my dreams is probably God, still I want you.” That’s the climactic epiphany of Hissing Fauna, the moment of clarity that makes sense of the emotional chaos. The phrasing is very key — he’s not saying “I want you, but the girl of my dreams is probably God,” he’s not implying that she’s second best. Even if she’s a flawed human being, she is superior to whatever he can define as perfection. He’s basically admitting that his imagination is too flawed and limited to come up with something better than her, and if he’s managed to alienate her, then he’s fucked for life. (Click here to buy it from Polyvinyl.)

Also: You can get a recording of this concert via NYCtaper, but be warned: You have to deal with some .flac bullshit.

Cristina “Mamma Mia” – Cristina Monet and August Darnell throw the listener headlong into a world of sparkling fabulousness within the first few seconds of “Mamma Mia,” but they quickly raise the stakes, pushing the song to delirious heights of ecstasy and glamor. Monet’s second album was mainly concerned with portraying its wealthy characters as decadent, miserable creeps, but this is not nearly as dark or cynical. It’s good-hearted fantasy of ritzy elegance, and though the song is knowingly kitschy, its enthusiasm and awe is entirely genuine. This isn’t about money, it’s about limitless pleasure. (Click here to buy it from Ze Records.)

Ludus “Breaking The Rules” – …and this one’s about the limits we place on our pleasure. I’d say that “Breaking The Rules” makes a better case for a combination of romantic commitment and bisexual polyamory better than any song I’ve ever heard, but I can’t think of any other tunes that cover the same lyrical territory, much less anything so cheery and danceable. It’s not pushy or didactic, but rather open-minded, generous, assertive, and eager to balance its pursuit of excitement and expression with stability and a political agenda. (Click here to buy it from Crippled Dick Hot Wax.)

Elsewhere: My new Hit Refresh column is up on the ASAP site with mp3s from Architecture In Helsinki, Alter Ego, and Plastique De Reve.

Also: My opinion of Rilo Kiley’s new material is exactly the reverse of Kate Richardson’s, but either way she is correct: There is clearly a connection between how much leg Jenny Lewis shows and the quality of her music.

And: Kate Richardson is having a moment — she also commissioned a video for Tiger Tunes’ “Pancake America.”

PJ Harvey @ Beacon Theater 10/10/2007
To Bring You My Love # / Send His Love To Me # / When Under Ether % / The Devil %+ / White Chalk %~ / Man Size # / Angelene #* / My Beautiful Leah *&! / Nina In Ecstasy & / Electric Light & / Snake # / Shame # / Big Exit # / Down By The Water @* / Grow Grow Grow @ / The Mountain % / Silence % // Rid Of Me # / Water # / The Piano ^/ The Desperate Kingdom Of Love ^ (# = electric guitar, % = piano, @ = autoharp, ^ = acoustic guitar, * = drum machine, & = synthesizer, ! = ride cymbal, ~ = harmonica, + = metronome)

PJ Harvey “Nina In Ecstasy” – I left PJ Harvey’s concert in a state of awe, completely blown away by what may have been the single best show I’ve ever witnessed in terms of vocal performance. (I’ve actually seen her play once before; I don’t recall being nearly as impressed.) She was on stage alone, dressed in a gown similar to the one she wore on the cover of White Chalk. She moved from one instrument to another throughout the evening, occasionally accompanied by a mechanical rhythm that only emphasized the spareness of her live arrangements. In most cases, there wasn’t much of a difference — Harvey has always favored skeletal simplicity on her records, and she hardly needed a rhythm section to pull off the severe intensity of “Man Size” and “Snake.” Her setlist pulled a song or three from each of her major works and quietly made a compelling case for her consistency, stylistic range, and ability to expertly tailor her voice to the character of each piece. Harvey’s voice is an astounding thing, both in terms of technical prowess and expressive power. She sang and played every selection with incredible precision, but her performance never seemed even slightly rote. In fact, I cannot recall the last time I saw a performer so fully committed to inhabiting their work on stage.

PJ Harvey “My Beautiful Leah” – The lurching, relentlessly grim “My Beautiful Leah” was perhaps the most dramatic selection of the concert, and not simply because it allowed for some theatrical flair when the song called for her to bash a ride cymbal for a few measures. Even more so than on the album recording, Harvey conveyed the heartbroken regret of the narrator as her music expressed the flat hopelessness of the severely depressed title character. Harvey’s voice struggles against the pull of the Leah’s nihilistic misery, seduced by her beauty, and perhaps also the purity of her sadness. (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)

PJ Harvey “Grow Grow Grow” – Joshua Klein’s lukewarm review of White Chalk on Pitchfork has been bugging me for the past few weeks, not simply because he horribly underrated one of the year’s finest records (sadly, this is to be expected in a year in which Pitchfork has consistently given female artists aside from M.I.A., Feist, and Joanna Newsom lackluster, unexcited, clueless, or needlessly harsh notices), but because his major point comes down to: “You might not be in the mood for it all the time.” Really, Joshua? You mean, like every piece of art ever?

Of course, this is a time when many music critics are seemingly unwilling to engage with art, and instead attempt to act as a twisted sort of consumer advocate. Is it a shock that a majority of records acclaimed in internet circles are most often some form of innocuous, neutral music that does not pose any sort of aesthetic challenge, and recedes into the background so as not to distract the listener from other activities? White Chalk is a mood piece for sure, but it’s also a careful, nuanced work that rewards close listening. Klein may be correct that it is not suitable as all-purpose background noise, but he fails to realize that this is in fact an indication that the album has succeeded on its own terms. The point of White Chalk is to transport the listener into the world of Harvey’s characters, and it is remarkably effective in doing so. It’s meant to be a window into other lives, not yet another mirror to gaze upon ourselves, or a blanket of ambient sound to keep us from feeling uncomfortable in silence.

Also: Remember a few months ago when I interviewed Rob Sheffield, and we were talking about how people used to take 90 minute cassettes and pair two complementary albums for each side? The technology may be outmoded, but please consider this pairing: White Chalk and In Rainbows. (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)

Elsewhere: “I know I’m biased, but really, has anyone done more for Blues music than PJ Harvey? I’m not talking wack-ass Eric Clapton retreads, I’m talking updating the sound of lamentation so that it sounds powerful and alive. She is so thrillingly in the moment of her songs that it can be a little off-putting to people not used to such passion in their music. Or if they are, it’s a different sort of passion, the flowery kind that’s more about me! me! me! than trying to tell a story. She makes you feel her belief. When she sang “You know he’s gonna be there…” and stretched the last vowels into a dry death rattle, it wasn’t pretty, it was captivating.”

Janelle Monáe “Violet Stars Happy Hunting!” – Janelle Monáe’s playful, hyperactive version of modern R&B would be strange and exciting enough if her lyrics were ordinary, but the batshit sci-fi mythology that unfolds throughout her first EP puts her in a whole other realm of pop eccentricity. Monáe is utterly unafraid to seem ridiculous, which is a deeply underrated quality in pop music, and her total commitment to her own weirdness allows her to pull off an extraordinarily kitschy concept record that dares the listener to become emotionally invested in a storyline about an android “cybersoul” star who falls in love with a man, and is hounded by “bounty hunters, robokillers, the droid control, and the Wolfmasters” for breaking “THE RULES.” “Violet Stars Happy Hunting!” bears some resemblance to some of Andre 3000’s post-Stankonia music, and seems to deliberately ape/parody the “lend me some sugar, I am your neighbor!” section of “Hey Ya!” when her male guest takes over on the breakdown before the final round of choruses. (Click here to buy it from Janelle Monáe.)

Imagine for a moment that you are Superman. Your sense of hearing is so powerful and precise that you can hear everything in the world at once, or effortlessly focus on just one sound anywhere on the planet with perfect clarity. Think about how many people are listening to In Rainbows simultaneously over the course of this day, and how at any moment, someone is certainly listening to one of the ten tracks. Imagine honing in only the speakers scattered around the globe playing the record in perfect unison, and then shifting your attention to the sound of it overlapping, clashing, and falling in and out of phase on other stereos, headphones, and computers. Its arpeggiated melodies turning into tangles and then into knots; a record with so much negative space piling up on itself until it is nothing but thick, undifferentiated noise.

White Williams “Headlines” – The sort of shocking thing about White Williams is that the sophisticated, strangely ageless music contained on his first record was in fact written and performed by a 23 year old guy, and not, say, someone about two or three decades older. Or maybe someone from two or three decades ago? Williams’ music is often built upon scraps of familiar tunes by old family favorites — Bowie, Eno, T-Rex, and Neu! are all interpolated and integrated, and he straight up covers Bow Wow Wow — but Smoke is more than just another retro pastiche. The music seems as though it dropped out of time fully formed, as if it could’ve been written and recorded in 1977 just as easily as 2027. The deliberate nods to famous songs is obviously a self-conscious move, but the record’s loose, lucid, languorous tracks seem weirdly indifferent to both the past and the future, opting instead to zone out and groove along in the present tense. (Click here to buy it from Tigetbeat 6.)

Elsewhere: Prompted by my LCD Soundsystem post from yesterday, Mike Barthel wrote a nice long thing about “North American Scum,” and in giving it a fairly close reading manages to cover a lot of the things I either wanted to say or wish I’ve said about the song. I’m not especially happy with my post, honestly — I’ve been thinking about that song for months, and it didn’t really come out right, in part because I was too busy to really give it the time it needed. But, you know, a lot of the reason I wanted to write about it several months after its initial release in the first place was to push people to give it as much thought as “All My Friends” and “Someone Great,” and Mike certainly went above and beyond in his post, so I suppose it was a success in that way.

And: Once again, I will be filling in for the day on New York Magazine’s Vulture blog.

Arcade Fire @ Randall’s Island 10/6/2007
Black Mirror / Keep The Car Running / Laika / No Cars Go / Haiti / I’m Sleeping In A Submarine / My Body Is A Cage / Cold Wind / Intervention / Antichrist Television Blues / The Well and the Lighthouse / Tunnels / Power Out / Rebellion (Lies) // Headlights Look Like Diamonds / Wake Up /// Kiss Off (Violent Femmes song performed off to side of stage after show, acoustic and barely audible even from 30 yards)

Arcade Fire “Keep The Car Running” (Live @ Judson Memorial Church, 2/17/2007) – Of the three Arcade Fire shows that I saw in 2007 — the only Arcade Fire shows I’ve ever seen — this was the one that really seemed as though the band were really fired up and hitting the stage with full power, which I think has everything to do with the fact that it was a fucking ENORMOUS show on a giant stage. Though it was nice to see them in a church and a large theater, it’s pretty obvious that they were hemmed in by the scale, and the sound was too muddy and quiet to really get across the scope of the material. This set at Randall’s Island was as loud, overwhelming, and theatrical as you’d want them to be, and maybe a bit more so, since they were egged on by the sheer size of the event, and the fact that they had to get on the stage after LCD Soundsystem.

At each of the three Arcade Fire shows that I saw this year, it was hard for me not to be acutely aware of the fact that even though I do like them, the songs from Funeral just don’t mean very much to me. Everyone flips out for them, but aside from “Rebellion” and “Wake Up,” I just nod along and wait for the Neon Bible tunes. The band’s music thrives on an emotional connection, and without it, the songs can seem a bit hollow and overblown, even if you’re into it. I definitely see why so many people care deeply for “Tunnels” and “Power Out,” but I just can’t feel it, they simply do not resonate with me in the way that the Neon Bible material does. “Intervention” and “Black Wave/Bad Vibrations” me feel like I’m getting hit in the soul; “Antichrist Television Blues,” “The Well and the Lighthouse,” and “Keep The Car Running” have crescendos that are absolutely thrilling to me, like getting a tiny, terrifying taste of freedom in the form of a pop song. You simply cannot meet their music halfway, and you can’t be skeptical of the band’s motivations. You either submit to it and take what it has to give you, or you just get a big noise. (Click here to buy it from Merge.)

LCD Soundsystem @ Randall’s Island 10/6/2007
Get Innocuous! / Us V Them / Time To Get Away / North American Scum / All My Friends / Someone Great / Tribulations / Movement / Yeah / Throw / New York I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down

Needless to say, LCD Soundsystem were as tight and engaging as ever, but Randall’s Island is just too sprawling for their music to have its full effect, though the epic quality of “All My Friends” and “Someone Great” worked rather well in this context. Even up in the front, the setting just wasn’t conducive to dancing — you could move, sure, but it’s hard to really get going when seven out of every ten people in the audience is intent on standing still. That said, things did get slightly rowdy for “North American Scum,” “Tribulations,” and “Yeah,” but how could they not — those three are pretty much forces of nature.

LCD Soundsystem “North American Scum” – A lot of people have been writing very heartfelt, thoughtful things about “All My Friends” and “Someone Great,” and though I think those songs are brilliantly crafted, emotionally profound pieces of music, they haven’t had much utility in my life this year, though I’m sure they will at some later date. “North American Scum,” on the other hand, is the one that hits me hard and makes me move right now, even when I’m just listening to it on headphones walking down the street. (To clarify, I’m not actually dancing in the street, it just makes me walk much faster.)

I can’t take the lyrics too literally — I haven’t left the country since this time last year, and given the current state of the US dollar, it’s looking unlikely that I’ll be able to afford doing anything like that again any time in the next several months — but the spirit of the track fits nicely with my prevailing mood in the 2007s. It’s agitated and defensive, but eager to puncture the self-righteousness of its imagined rivals. It’s THE song if you despise what your country has become, but have no desire to call any other nation your home. It’s THE song if you love New York City, but hate the way it is nearly impossible to live here without becoming obsessed with money and status, whether you have it or not. It’s THE song if you’re ambivalent about being part of a hegemonic culture, but secretly fear a shifting international status quo that may increasingly marginalize you and your experience over the rest of your life. It’s THE song if you want to fight, argue, and create, if just to prove people wrong about you and your people. (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)