Nobody's Business But My Own

Mix 10 - 2011

2011-12-03T09:03:00.000-08:00

Yellow Ostrich – Slow Paddle (The Mistress – available here)
Mister Heavenly – Doom Wop (Out Of Love : Sub Pop, 2011)
Wild Flag – Romance (Wild Flag : Merge, 2011)
Los Campesinos! – Hello Sadness (Hello Sadness : Arts & Crafts / Wichita, 2011)
Surfer Blood – Miranda (Tarot Classics : Kanine, 2011)
Mikal Cronin – Apathy (Mikal Cronin : Trouble In Mind, 2011)
Thee Oh Sees – Chem-Farmer (Carrion Crawler / The Dream : In The Red, 2011)
The Black Keys – Run Right Back (El Camino : Nonesuch, 2011)
Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears - Mustang Ranch (Scandalous : Lost Highway, 2011)
Kitty, Daisy & Lewis – I’m Going Back (Smoking In Heaven: Verve Forecast / DH Records, 2011)
Radiation City – The Color Of Industry (listen to it here)
Girls – Myma (Father, Son, Holy Ghost : True Panther, 2011)
The Drums – Days (Portamento : Frenchkiss / Moshi Moshi, 2011)
Rob Crow – Up (Living Well : Temporary Residence, 2007)
Megafaun – Get Right (Megafaun : Hometapes, 2011)
Guns Of Navarone – The Clever Men Of Manor Farm (Prize & Battlefield : listen to it here)
American Aquarium – Hard To Quit (Small Town Hymns: 101 Distribution, 2010)
Carter Tanton – Murderous Joy (listen to it here)
Dispatch – Broken American (available here)

Mix 09 - 2011

2011-12-03T08:02:00.000-08:00

I Break Horse – No Way Outro (Hearts : Bella Union, 2011)
Idaho – You Were A Dick (You Were A Dick : Idaho Music / Talitres / And, 2011)
Mister Heavenly – I Am A Hologram (Out Of Love : Sub Pop, 2011)
Kitty, Daisy & Lewis – Will I Ever (Smoking In Heaven : Verve Forecast / DH Records, 2011)
Wilco – Capitol City (The Whole Love : dBpm, 2011)
Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears – Black Snake (Scandalous : Lost Highway, 2011)
Veronica Falls – Misery (Veronica Falls : Slumberland / Bella Union, 2011)
Milk Maid – Not Me (Yucca : Fat Cat, 2011)
California Wives – Purple (listen here)
Mikal Cronin – Gone (Mikal Cronin : Trouble In Mind, 2011)
St. Vincent – Northern Lights (Strange Mercy : 4AD, 2011)
Cymbals Eat Guitars – Rifle Eyesight (Proper Name) (Lenses Alien : Barsuk / Memphis Industries, 2011)
White Denim – It’s Him! (Live) (Live At The Ghost Room EP – available here)
Twerps – This Guy (Twerps : Underwater Peoples / Chapter Music, 2011)
David Kilgour & The Heavy Eights – A Break In The Weather (Left By Soft : Merge, 2011)
Gillian Welch – Pass You By (Revival : Acony Records, 1996)
Scott H. Biram – Broke Ass (Bad Ingredients : Bloodshot Records, 2011)
Joe Pug – How Good Are You (available here)
American Aquarium – Brother Oh Brother (Small Town Hymns : 101 Distribution, 2010)
Frightened Rabbit – Scottish Winds (A Frightened Rabbit EP - available here)
Jackson Browne – These Days (Solo Acoustic Vol. 1 : Inside Records, 2005)

Guest Mix : With a Halloween Extra

2011-11-12T07:05:00.000-08:00

The good folks of the Yellow Bird Project posted a rather excellent Halloween playlist, that I hope they will excuse me for reposting. I promise, it is well worth having a listen, or putting it together if you have the tracks. And they have some rather cool merchandise for good causes, so there should be enough indie rock candy goodness to satisfy even the most jaded and cynical amongst us

And as I am never one to leave the last word alone, my two cents follow...

Yellow Bird Project Halloween Playlist:

Feist – Graveyard (Metals : Interscope / Cherrytree; 2011)
Bon Iver – Blood Bank (Blood Bank EP : Jagjaguwar, 2009)
Malcolm Middleton – Death Love Depression Love Death (Brighter Beat : Full Time Hobby/Revolver, 2007)
Yann Tiersen - Ashes (Dust Lane : Anti, 2010)
Sufjan Stevens – Enchanting Ghost (All Delighted People EP : Asthmatic Kitty; 2010)
Dead Man’s Bones – Flowers Grow Out of My Grave (Dead Man’s Bones : Anti-, 2009)
King Creosote & Jon Hopkins – Bats In The Attic (Diamond Mine : Domino ,2011)
Elvis Perkins in Dearland – Stay Zombie Stay (The Doomsday EP : Beggars XL Recording, 2009)
Antony & The Johnsons – Frankenstein (Hope There’s Someone : Secretly Canadian Records, 2007)
Arab Strap – Blood (Mad For Sadness : Jet Set Records, 2000) V
Vampire Weekend – Taxi Cab (Contra : XL, 2010)
Dry the River – Demons (I must concede, this one is a mystery to me…)
Broken Social Scene – Romance To The Grave (Forgiveness Rock Record : Arts & Crafts, 2011)
Slow Club – Because We’re Dead (Yeah So : Moshi Moshi, 2009)
The Smiths – Cemetry Gates (The Queen Is Dead : Warner Bros, 1986)
The Leisure Society – The Darkest Place I Know (Sleeper : PID, 2009)

Nobody's Business But My Own - Halloween Homage 2011

Deerhunter – Moon Witch Catridge (Weird Era Cont. : Kranky, 2008)
Magik Markers – Body Rot (Boss : Ecstatic Peace, 2007)
At The Drive-In – A Devil Among The Tailers (In/Casino/Out : Fearless Records, 1998)
Ride – Decay (Nowhere : Reprise / Wea, 1990)
Veronica Falls – Found Love In A Graveyard (Veronica Falls : Slumberland, 2011)
Surf City – Zombies (Kudos : Fire UK, 2011)
Widowspeak – Harsh Realm (Widowspeak : Captured Tracks, 2011)
The Jesus & Mary Chain – Cut Dead (Psychocandy : Rhino, 1985)
…And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead – Witch’s Web (So Divided : Interscope, 2006)
Frank Black – Old Black Dawning (Frank Black : Elektra / Wea, 1993)
The Pine Hill Haints – Halloween-Time All The Time (Ghost Dance : K Records, 2007)
Viva Voce – From The Devil Himself (Get Yr Blood Sucked Out : Barsuk, 2006)
The Mountain Goats – Damn These Vampires (All Eternals Deck : Merge, 2011)
Menomena – Ghostship (Friend & Foe : Barsuk, 2007)
TV On The Radio – Let The Devil In (Return To Cookie Mountain : Interscope, 2006)
Christian Kiefer & Tom Carter – Go Dig My Grave (Railroad Boy) (From the Great American Songbook : Preservation, 2010)
Mogwai – Mogwai Fear Satan (Young Team : Jet Set, 1997)

Mix 08 - 2011

2011-10-23T05:23:00.000-07:00

The Men – Shittin’ With The Shah (Leave Home : Sacred Bones, 2011)
Human Eye – Impregnate The Martian Queen Pt. 2 (They Came From The Sky : Sacred Bones, 2011)
Crystal Antlers – Always Afraid (Two-Way Mirror : Recreation Ltd, 2011)
Mister Heavenly – Bronx Sniper (Out Of Love : Sub Pop, 2011)
Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks – Tune Grief (Mirror Traffic : Matador/Domino, 2011)
Comet Gain – Yoona Baines (Howl of the Lonely Crowd : What’s Your Rupture? / Fortuna Pop!. 2011)
R.E.M. – Bad Day (Life’s Rich Pageant (25^th Anniversary Edition : Capitol/IRS, 2011)
Army Navy – Last Legs (The Last Place : Fever Zone, 2011)
Blacklist Royals – California (available here)
Great Cynics – Twenty Five (available here)
The Dirty Guv’nahs – We’ll Be The Light (Youth Is In Our Blood : available here)
Idaho – The Space Between (You Were A Dick : Idaho Music / Talitres / And, 2011)
Bon Iver – Towers (Bon Iver : 4AD / Jagjaguwar, 2011)
Beirut – Port Of Call (The Rip Tide : Pompeii, 2011)
Eleanor Friedberger – My Mistakes (Last Summer : Merge, 2011)
Loose Fur – Hey Chicken (Born Again In The USA : Drag City, 2006)
Widowspeak – Half Awake (Widowspeak : Captured Tracks, 2011)
Spent – The Quarter Conspiracy (A Seat Beneath The Chairs : Merge, 1996)
The War On Drugs – It’s Your Destiny (Slave Ambient : Secretly Canadian, 2011)
Mount Moriah – The Reckoning (Mount Moriah : Holidays For Quince, 2011)
The Wandas – Mr. Mister (The Wandas – available here)
MC5 – Kick Out The Jams (Kick Out The Jams : Elektra / Ada, 1991)

Music and Protest

2011-10-23T05:05:00.000-07:00

I have to admit that my recent output has been somewhat hindered by fog introduced upon reading a short piece entitled something upon the lines of "How to Blog", with peremptory instructions for being successful in this medium. The central tenet, and I paraphrase as I did not keep the article, was that words need to be presented as concisely, and simply as possible. In other words, as a writer, you are required to anticipate that your reader won't actually read, and will simply scan the page for something free, or some nugget of information that is of particular interest.

I am fully aware that this is a common instruction for all bloggers. As is my wont, I have proceeded to flagrantly disregard this central tenet, insisting to myself that there is no reason to seek validation or recognition, and furthermore, I will simply utilize this forum as an outlet for whatever particular musical fancy, or thought which, crosses my path. This is still my founding manifesto, but it does carry with it the ever-growing personal need to elicit coherent thoughts, whilst suppressing the knowledge that they are unlikely to ever be read. A competition of ego, without doubt, but perhaps I can be excused for enduring some motivational difficulties within an increasingly busy daily schedule.

I have been mulling over some of the recent events for some months now, and particularly regarding an apparent rise in political activism throughout the world. However, before I do so, I must ask forgiveness as I shall indulge with some rather lazy writing by referring liberally to other writers to illustrate my point. To start with, I was recently reading about the Occupy movement, to which one would imagine would render shrink wrapped fodder for artistic enterprise:

In Madrid, tens of thousands thronged the Puerta del Sol square shouting "Hands up! This is a robbery!" In Santiago, 25,000 Chileans processed through the city, pausing outside the presidential palace to hurl insults at the country's billionaire president. In Frankfurt, more than 5,000 people massed outside the European Central Bank, in scenes echoed in 50 towns and cities across Germany, from Berlin to Stuttgart. Sixty thousand people gathered in Barcelona, 100 in Manila, 3,000 in Auckland, 200 in Kuala Lumpur, 1,000 in Tel Aviv, 4,000 in London.

...

The exact targets of protesters' anger may differ from city to city and country to country. But while their numbers remain small in many places, activists argue that Saturday's demonstrations, many of which are still ongoing – and are pledged to remain so for the foreseeable future – are evidence of a growing wave of global anger at social and economic injustice.

I am fascinated by the link between protest and music that has traditionally always been a cornerstone of alternative music. In her article, also from the Guardian, Krissi Murison, wrote a piece entitled "Punk spoke up for angry kids. Why won't today's bands follow suit?" which arose as a consequence of the recent London riots. She quotes Joe Strummer and Mick Jones in their first interview with Barry Miles:

"I think people ought to know that we're anti-fascist, we're anti-violence, we're anti-racist and we're procreative. We're against ignorance," said Strummer, when asked how his band was offering a solution to their boredom and frustration. "I don't have to get drunk every night and go around kicking people and smashing up phone boxes […] We're dealing with subjects we really believe to matter. We're hoping to educate any kid who comes to listen to us."

In contrast to this, Ms Murison goes on to note:

"If that was punk's manifesto in 1976, then here's the closest thing music has to one in 2011: "Kill People. Burn Shit. Fuck School." It's a song by Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All, whose apathetic anarchy is perhaps a more fitting, if unwitting, soundtrack to the riots of last week than the Clash's.

This, though, is apparently what rebellion sounds like in 2011: dead-eyed, mob-like and opportunistic. There's certainly no one else currently trying to articulate anything more meaningful in pop culture. Time was when rock stars, and not just the Clash, used to have lots to say about lots of very big, important things. Or so I'm told. The truth is that in my eight years as a music journalist, I've never found one.

...

Let's look at some of the likely candidates. Alex Turner: lyricist of a generation, everyday commentator extraordinaire, brilliant on chip shops, less so on council spending cuts. Here's what he told me last time I interviewed him, at the time of the student protests and trade-union marches: "Even though [some of our songs] are about 'what's going on' in, like, one part of town, it's not about 'WHAT'S GOING ON', is it? It's not like I'm showing an opinion on what's going on. I just don't know what that would achieve." Or Eton-educated folkie and former Black Bloc anarchist Frank Turner: "I'm uncomfortable being called 'political'. I don't want to be divisive.""

There is also then an excellent interview with JarvisCocker by Decca Aitkenhead :

Lyrics, he says, aren't actually all that important to songs. "Words are important to me, but a song can work and function and be a good song with words that are fairly standard. But really great lyrics can't rescue a dog of a song.

...

(when asked about current hit singles) "Oh, I wouldn't even know what they were," he says at once, apologetically. "I feel bad, because I used to be right into the charts. I stopped when it got too predictable. They killed it when they discovered that formula, where a single would be half price in the week that it was released, so all singles started selling loads in the first week and then dropping off. It stops that thing of a record building – the first week was always the highest – and then it wasn't interesting at all. It's a good picture of what capitalism does. They find a formula that kills off the thing they're trying to make money out of."

...

"Music's changed in that way. People still listen to it, but it's not as central, it's more like a scented candle. It sets the mood. Also, because people like to multitask, in a way if you've got a bit of music on in the background and the lyrical content is making you want to listen to it, then that would probably put you off the texting you wanted to do. I think people like things that just make that right kind of noise, but leave your brain free to do something else."

All of this subsequently brought to mind the thoughts of another excellent author, Peter Doggett, who wrote the following in his superb book on the 60's, "There's A Riot Going On" :

(quoting Tom Hayden, a student activist) "What had killed the movement, he suggested, wasn't political repression or FBI harassment, or even (in the classic Marxist equation) a mismatch of economics and social conditions. The culprit was none other than the counter-culture itself, 'the sense that the kind of things that were supposed to be naturally ours were getting out of our control'. He singled out 'the absorption of Yippie-type theatrics into the media' : the leaders of the movement had allowed themselves to become distracted by the possibility of stardom and ego gratification. Worse still, however, was 'the feeling that people had been ripped off on a widespread basis by the absorption of rock music into the commercial culture'. As soon as 'The Revolutionaries Are On Columbia Records', they are no longer revolutionaries. When 'The Man Can't Bust Our Music', the music is already busted, in every sense of the word. The irony was that Hayden himself was already a media star. His words reflected the comfort of a man who could expect to attract attention and command lucrative earnings for the rest of his life. Members of the black power movement had been living under rather more extreme pressure, fearing for their lives rather than fretting about the sincerity of John Lennon or Mick Jagger. Yet the music and the movement had been so intertwined that it was easy to believe they were supporting each other. Hayden and his comrades were chilled by the realisation that rock and the revolution might actually have been diverting and sapping each other's energy."

...

"You've always got to have good tunes if you're marching. But the tunes don't make the march. Basically, rock and roll isn't protest, and never was. It's not political. It promotes interfamilial tension - or it used to. Now it can't even do that, because fathers don't even get outraged with the music. So rock and roll's gone, that's all gone." (Mick Jagger, 1980)

In 1975, former student leader Tom Hayden wistfully recalled the revolution that never was. 'The original theory of Weatherman was that we were in a situation of virtual fascism, because of Nixon's policies,' he declared. 'And therefore the only recourse, in their view, was resistance against this closed system. That's proven, I think, to be a fear that did not unfold. The democratic process came through. We're not living in a police state.' A decade after the movement first raised the flag of revolution, Hayden was content to trust in democracy, and the power of - rather than to- the people. He could not have realised that he had just lived through a golden era of democracy, when the people had the power to fight their government, and imagine that they might affect its actions at home and around the world; and when musicians were prepared to endanger their careers, and sometimes even their lives, in the cause of political freedom. But that dream, like so many, was over.

I run perilously close to rightfully acquiring the grumpy old man label (if I have not already), but the point that I am trying to make is that, at present, music seems to have lost a moral compass (at least in the mainstream), and there is a prevalent, and seemingly commonly held, sense of a decaying society with little exchange of ideas or thoughts. Of course, it is a true-ism to say that each generation thinks that the subsequent is worse, so this caveat must be mentioned. But it seems as if, apparent or not, that there is a paradox within the internet in that although there is a phenomenal exchange of information, there is also a deep sense of mistrust, self-consciousness and a lack of research. To regress briefly, the historical concept of a music fan was that they were somewhat of a hoarder. They were, and are, somewhat of a social oddity, who obsessively seek out to the rarest music, and obsess over songs and musicians that is often inexplicable to people are not of a similar ilk. I must make mention of this brief nugget by Tom Piazza, from his highly recommended Devil Sent The Rain, where he recounts a story of searching through a flea market for 78's:

"By the time I finished, I had looked through at least three thousand discs and had whittled down my stack to thirty-five. I paid two dollars apiece for them ("They always find some good ones," the proprietress said as she counted out my change from a wad of bills she kept in the pocket of her housedress), and I walked out slightly overstimulated, a little toasted around the edges, but with a sense of satisfaction and even of gratitude for being able to retrieve these records from the mountain of chaos where they had languished."

Of course, the point of my recounting this is Mr. Piazza goes on to admit that he had kept his wife waiting for almost two hours, whilst all of this digging for 78’s was being undertaken. My better half, as I recounted this story, gave me a similar smile, her eyes expressing what I would imagine to be the exactly the same sentiments towards me. My point though is that there is a growing sense that beneath the avalanche of information, we should feel compelled to mine beneath it for those items that are truly worth finding. But for many, there is perhaps too constant an awareness on the net of often excessively harsh criticism from too many readers, be it informed, misinformed or simply vindictive. The nature of information has changed, and instead of information being made available for those that would seek to locate it, the information is now readily (too easily) available, and we are now confronted with the task of sifting and discarding as opposed to simply researching. It is a subtle paradigm shift, as opposed to evaluating, comparing and researching; an inordinate amount of time is simply spent trying to verify whether something is in fact accurate at all. Integral to this is the constant flow of ideas and thoughts, most of which are trivial, and the overarching threat of being the target for the mob.

To translate all of this into the terms of the music world, I get the impression that people have become weary of the constant overload of bands and songs. The radio has become an endless parade of repetitive songs, all frighteningly similar, all equally vacuous. As Mr. Cocker notes, music has merely become background noise, and not an item of interest in itself. Personally, I believe it is a facet of listening fatigue, as there is just too much information being bombarded onto us on a daily basis. There are too many opinions, too much music, just too much of everything with insufficient filter by which to evaluate and gauge an opinion. Information is provided as a doorway to individuality, but is cruelly removing all such sense of self, and in fact replacing it with a barrage that leaves little opportunity for thought or consideration, assuming those faculties exist in the first place. Worse, we have become so accustomed to this excess, that as soon as Blackberry crashes, there is a public outcry over the loss of amenities. The Bacchus of information has instilled a culture of obesity and hedonism, and we are now at the moment akin to the drunken detritus of all parties- they do eventually end, with all the obfustication and delirium that entails. People, and particularly children, have so much being placed before them on a daily basis that it would seem to be perfectly understandable that there is a glazed look of non-comprehension and shortened attention spans.

It is easy to become depressed by all of this, and it is equally true that it is far easier to find criticism than to be constructive. The music world is in a state of flux, and there is something of a changing of the guard with the tics of the 80's returning in force. Music, as an effective medium of communication, has been severely reduced, and we have a situation now where there is a distinct dumbing down within popular music in particular. Perhaps it arises from a cynicism with the fate of rock stars from the 60’s and 70’s (an aspect of which came through strongly in the 90’s with the slacker generation, and the number of drug fatalities), the anger that is associated with financially difficult times, or the chaos that capitalism has reigned upon the industry. The independent system had a distinct rise in its fortunes, but it has not changed anything, and rather merely been integrated into the system, with an associated growth in clout. In other words, we have now been introduced to "the new boss, same as the old boss", to quote Pete Townshend.

In contrast to the all this, we do need to bear in mind, and sympathise with the artists. We now have something of a pressure cooker situation, where the reality of the modern music industry is that business considerations are usually the single overriding factor. Artists are severely constrained in their movements, if not by regulation by the major labels, but then also by considerations of supply and demand. To be a successful musician no longer guarantees wealth or fame, or even a career. Rather, if nothing else, the rise to prominence of independent labels has emphasised the realities of the working, every day, musician. Most bands simply make enough to get by, especially if regard is had to significant economic inroads introduced by file sharing, and the fact that most consumers are also operating under significant financial constraints. In other words, the whole situation argues against looking over the parapet, be it by the consumer or the artist.

But there will always be a new movement, a new trend, and perhaps it is only a matter of time before this happens. The industry has a habit of meandering along, and will change as it can. The threat that the system would collapse under pressure from the internet has not come to pass, and things have continued much as they always have, albeit at greater expense to the consumer, and with an amended business plan for many artists. The 80's have returned in force, and these sounds may dominate our airwaves for some time yet I fear. We can then only hope that some youthful abandon, hopefully free of cynicism, will then return with fresh ideas to excite. In the interim, we can only hope that technology has not succeeded in making too many people old before their time.

In conclusion, however, perhaps it would be apt to quote again from Tom Piazza, in Devil Sent The Rain, in that whilst there may be significant reluctance of modern artists to become involved, there was a time when this was not the case, and although music may no longer fuel a revolution, perhaps it still retains the potential to provoke a little thought :

If you live somewhere else in the city, as I do, you can tell yourself that it's happening to other people. But if we learned one thing from Katrina, it is that we are part of an integrated social and geographical and spiritual ecosystem. We can turn our heads as long as it is going on somewhere else and happening to someone else. Or we can get mad now, and make a stand for human dignity and fairness against greed and power lust.

In his song about the bank robber Pretty Boy Floyd, written seventy years ago, the singer-songwriter Woody Guthrie sang,

"As through this world I've wandered, I've met lots of funny men,

Some will rob you with a six-gun, and some with a fountain pen."

He could turn a phrase, that Woody Guthrie. He ended the song thus:

"But as through this world you travel, and as through this world you roam,

You will never see an outlaw drive a family from their home."

Mix 07 - 2011

2011-08-27T06:50:00.000-07:00

Noveller - Glacial Wave (Glacial Glow : Weird Forest / Saffron, 2011)
Cults - Abducted (Cults : In The Name Of, 2011)
Arctic Monkeys - All My Own Stunts (Suck It And See : Domino, 2011)
Black Lips - Family Tree (Arabia Mountain : Vice, 2011)
Girls Names - Bury Me (Dead To Me : Slumberland / Tough Love, 2011)
Wilco - I Might (The Whole Love : dBpm, 2011)
Poison Control Centre - After The Holiday (Sad Sour Future : Afternoon, 2010)
Army Navy - The Long Goodbye (The Last Place : Fever Zone, 2011)
Spent - Good Luck Line (Seat Beneath The Chairs : Merge, 1996)
Portastatic - Skinny Glasses Girl (Some Small History : Merge, 2008)
The Head- The Ballad (available here)
The Decemberists - Down By The Water (The King Is Dead : Rough Trade / Capitol, 2011)
Live Oak Revue - County Line (available here)
Typhoon - The Honest Truth (available here)
Mount Moriah - Lament (Mount Moriah : Holidays For Quince, 2011)
Brandi Carlille - Way To You (available here)
Josh Rouse - Quiet Town (available here)
Thurston Moore - Illuminine (Demolished Thoughts : Matador, 2011)
Other Lives - Landforms (Tamer Animals : TBD, 2011)
Unknown Mortal Orchestra - FFunny FFriends (Unknown Mortal Orchestra : Fat Possum / True Panther, 2011)

Mix 06 - 2011

2011-07-17T06:10:00.000-07:00

Yellow Ostrich - Hate Me Soon (The Mistress – available here)
EMA - Milkman (Past Life Martyred Saints : Souterrain Transmissions, 2011)
TV On The Radio - Caffeinated Consciousness (Nine Types Of Light : Interscope, 2011)
Broken Social Scene - Swimmers (Broken Social Scene : Arts & Crafts, 2005)
Girls Names - When You Cry (Dead To Me : Slumberland / Tough Love, 2011)
Sloan - Shadow Of Love (The Double Cross : Yep Roc, 2011)
The Sheepdogs - Let It All Show (Big Stand – available here)
Semisonic - This Will Be My Year (Feeling Strangely Fine : MCA UK, 1998)
Sam Roberts Band – Longitude (available here)
Jeff the Brotherhood - Mellow Out (We Are The Champions : Infinity Cat Recordings, 2011)
The People's Temple - Where You Gonna Go? (Sons Of Stone : Hozac, 2011)
The Fresh & Onlys - Red Light Green Light (Play It Strange : In The Red, 2010)
Letting Up Despite Great Faults - Teenage Tide (available here)
Paul Dempsey - We'll Never Work In This Town Again (Everything Is True – available here)
Okkervil River - Wake And Be Fine (I Am Very Far : Jagjaguwar, 2011)
Gillian Welch - Tear My Stillhouse Down (Revival : Acony Records, 1996)
Motel Motel - Coffee (New Denver : Rebel Group, 2009)
Thurston Moore - Benediction (Demolished Thoughts : Matador, 2011)
The Mountain Goats - Never Quite Free (All Eternals Deck : Merge, 2011)
Acid House Kings - (I'm In A) Chorus Line (Music Sounds Better With You : Labrador, 2011)

"Meet the New Boss..."

2011-07-17T05:54:00.000-07:00

In the last edition of my increasingly haphazard ouput on this blog, I was groaning malcontent about a lack of invention and direction that I perceive to be evident in the indie world of 2011. I haven't exactly softened on this, although there have been some releases, and flutterings for which, perhaps, should give me reason to pause. But then, I was reading an article about the 2011 Association of Independent Music (Aim) awards. Admittedly, the Guardian is hardly the best source for music news, as repeated guilty offenders of artist plugs that fail to ignite the imagination, and ham-fisted claims to hipster designs.

In the immortal words of Pete Townshend, "meet the new boss, the same as the old boss", I was struck by how it was almost as if, for all the rumblings and mutterings from indie fans, that instead of reinventing the world of music, all we have succeeded in doing is change the playing pieces on the board. The infrastructure remains, and it is now merely a matter of allowing the players to settle. It is true that sales are down, and the internet plays an increasingly crucial role for the surivival of a modern musician, but, at the end of the day, there is a gnawing sense that perhaps nothing much has really changed. In fact, "indie" is now a defineable sound - a little Decemberists, a little Shins, lots of the ubiqutous Death Cab for Cutie, a bit of Arcade Fire, the list goes on.

And yet, we now have Adele, proudly scorning major label advances for "creative" reasons, and settling on XL as the proper home for her "sound'. The cynic may point out that this could have merely been a ploy to lend her some credibility to a modern audience, but the fact does remain that she can actually complain about the amount of tax she has to pay on her income. No discredit to her, although her music may not be for me, I cannot criticise her talent or success. But if you were thinking of her as somehow edgy, or alternative, I am afraid you shall remain sadly disappointed. My point is that the Arctic Monkeys are now enjoying a number 1 album, released on indie heavyweights Domino, with a release that seems to have taken strong pointers from the Manic Street Preachers. In other words, we're back in amongst the Brit Pop wars, all whilst Damon Albarn is off creating rock operas about an obscure alchemist and mathematician.

I have been reading Peter Doggett's excellent There's A Riot Going On, and in it, he makes the point that in amongst the upheaval of the 60's, although there was a sense of purpose, there were vastly differing views on achieving those aims. Disagreement was rife, even, on what the purpose was. The focal points (in America at least) were racial, and Vietnam, but in amongst this, there was the knowledge that pacificist protest was futile, and also that violence was incongruent to the enlightenment proffered by philosophical studies. It was an age of dichotomy, an example well illustrated by the use of Bob Dylan used as an ignition point. He furiously denied it, remaining aloof and rejecting any and all claims to his attention, and yet, despite this, through his refusal to explain anything about himself (and his proclivity to bend the truth) he became a demi-god, revealing truth, in whatever form was sought, to whomever wished to hear it. One of his greatest assets was leaving his lyrics open to any interpretation that people sought to find within them.

But in the world of indie, one forgets that the asset wielded by the artists and fans was that the label "indie" did not denote anything. It merely reflected a mode of distribution of music. You could hear art rock, obscure metal, dreamy trance, electronic music in fact, anything at all. The grouping meant absolutely nothing, and yet, we have all become so enamoured by this notion of being "an indie fan" that somehow we have all become grouped in as a flannel wearing hipsters with our heavy-rimmed glasses. I suppressed a chuckle this week as I saw a "Top 25 Indie releases of 2011" on Vh1, and in that there was one of the songs from Death Cab for Cutie's latest album. My fiance, whom I shall say is under training - and to my sister, yes, you could call it indoctrination - snorted and exclaimed, "How are they indie!?". The point was well made, as although they have always been marketed under the alt-rock/indie banner, they made the leap to the majors quite some time ago. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it does throw mud into already confused waters. It may be a generalization to claim that in the rush to try and place a label on the shifting tastes of music fans that we been have forced to some degree of conformity, which one could justifiably associate with a slight loss of identity.

Indie fans were never angry, and there was never really a general rallying point. Sure, the fans did fit quite neatly in a defineable demographic - white, middle-class, educated- and yet, within that group, there were vastly differing views on what constituted a good release, and what didn't. The uniting point was a certain contrariness to locate "true' talent, and a desire to find music that somehow provided entertainment. I would never discount the social aspects of it, and this, of course, can all be included within the difficult sociological tendencies that lead to music becoming popular, and the reason that one can never really know what will succeed and what will not. It was an exclusive club that was united, in its early days, by the difficluties in obtaining the music, the rural denominations governed by the bands, and the small and short-lived reigns of the artists. Now, they have the opportunity to make a career from music, and reach a world-wide audience. It is true that with the competition, it is more difficult to succeed, but as much as the fans may like to pretend that it remains an exclusive club, this cannot be the case any longer.

The realities are now quite well described by the opening remarks in the Pitchfork review of the Washed Out release Within And Without: "Despite being the butt of jokes because of its goofy but actually spot-on name, chillwave as an idea and a sound is here to stay. Synthesizers are in; guitar-based rock has taken a backseat to diffuse, rhythmic dance music; and the sound's key influences (broken, blissed-out electronica, hip-hop) have leached into most interesting music happening right now." We are a target market, they are looking to find you, and they think they know what you want to hear. Personally, I get a sense that is probably best illustrated by paraphrasing Sir Humphrey from Yes Minister. On many an occasion, he advises Minister Hacker that he should "tell the people what they want to hear, and then continue to do whatever you were going to do anyway". We have lost both of these, as in the early days, we were simply not told anything (or, at least, this was the perception). With the growth in popularity of the indie sound, and the internet, we became informed and hence kept in the loop, whilst the artists continued with their work. Now, we are told, and they try and give us what they think we want. The problem is, we don't know, and within the erosion of the ideology, everyone is, perhaps, starting to feel a little lost.

Mix 05 - 2011

2011-06-21T13:39:00.000-07:00

EMA – California (Past Life Martyred Saints : Souterrain Transmissions, 2011)
Little Scream – Cannons (The Golden Record : Secretly Canadian, 2011)
Girls Names – I Could Die (Dead To Me : Slumberland / Tough Love, 2011)
Reigning Sound – If You Can’t Give Me Everything (Too Much Guitar: In The Red, 2004)
Cloud Nothings – Not Important (Cloud Nothings : Wichita / Carpark, 2011)
The Rural Alberta Advantage – Muscle Relaxants (Departing : Saddle Creek / Paper Bag, 2011)
The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart – Heaven’s Gonna Happen (Belong : Slumberland, 2011)
Maritime – Annihilation Eyes (Human Hearts : Dangerbird, 2011)
Jeff The Brotherhood – Bummer (We Are The Champions : Infinity Cat Recordings, 2011)
The Mountain Goats – Estate Sale Sign (All Eternals Deck : Merge, 2011)
Motel Motel – Dinosaur (New Denver : Rebel Group, 2009)
The Feelies – Should Be Gone (Here Before : Bar/None, 2011)
Dum Dum Girls – Wrong Feels Right (He Gets Me High EP : Sub Pop, 2011)
Okkervil River – Rider (I Am Very Far : Jagjaguwar, 2011)
Acid House Kings – Are We Lovers Or Are We Friends (Music Sounds Better With You : Labrador, 2011)
Thao & Mirah – Squareneck (Thao & Mirah : Kill Rock Stars, 2011)
Fleet Foxes – Helplessness Blues (Helplessness Blues : Sub Pop, 2011)
Alela Diane – Long Way Down (Alela Diane & The Wild Divine : Rough Trade, 2011)
David Kilgour – Seemingly Stranded (David Kilgour & The Heavy Eights : Flying Nun, 1997)
J Mascis – Where Are You (Several Shades Of Why : Sub Pop, 2011)
The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band – Mr. Bojangles (available here)
Explosions In The Sky – Trembling Hands (Take Care, Take Care, Take Care : Temporary Residence, 2011)

BUY NOW! It's like nothing you've EVER seen before!

2011-06-21T13:35:00.000-07:00

I cannot recall if I have alluded to this before, but in a moment of non-sequiter lucidity, an old memory of a school assignment came drifting into my mind whilst I was navigating the joys of rush hour traffic. It was an essay in which I expounded upon my views of "routine" and its effect upon our daily lives. Admittedly, I cannot now remember anything of my conclusions, but I have no doubt that if I were to see it now, it would doubtless appear as another of those throwaway pieces that could only have been conjured to meet the requirements of a school assignment. To my younger self, I hope only that I noted that apart from anything else, it does serve as a rather effective coping mechanism for this absurd experience we know as life.

I have often mentioned the prevalence of the advertising machine that provides our daily dose of new music, and I suppose I could almost say that it has become a routine pastime to be confronted with new singles, artists and whatever else is shunted into our over-crowded inboxes. And yet, despite all of the marketing that has become a reality for the modern musician, I was intrigued by a number of acquaintances expressing the view that there has been a distinct lack of new music this year.

There seems to be a general view at present in which there is a certain sense of loss, a fatigue, and a lack of excitement. "New music" is missing a component, and established artists are producing work that somehow feels a little less vital. Popular culture is a turgid rehash of old ideas, and our principal "star" in Lady Gaga is the poorest copy of Madonna that I have yet had the misfortune to be confronted by. As I consider the matter, there could be any number of factors to explains this as our thirst for new music is ever-expanding, and some could say we have become like children of the 60's, demanding annual releases of ever-growing standards. Combine this to the attention span of the new Millennium, and it is surely fatal. We also have the reality that with the internet, there are now so many artists, and so many fans, that everyone is jostling for attention, all whilst fostering the allusion that the indie kids are somehow immune to marketing strategies, and subtle sociological manipulation. The market is over-saturated, and we, as fans, are still hungry whilst professing an increasing discernment in our tastes.

I think the truth actually lies somewhere in the mythical, and elusive effect that the end of a decade can have upon music scenes. The opening of the new Millennium was the decade of indie, even if we never did seem to get to the bottom of whether or not we wished to dub it the Noughties. It was with some chagrin, and pride, that I was recently at a party, and I managed to sneak on a recent mix-tape which successfully played twice without complaint, and then prompted a discussion on the latest Arcade Fire release. This scenario would be almost unimaginable a few years ago, so it is interesting to see that indie has permeated the popular consciousness to such a degree as to almost be a part of the furniture. But together with this acceptance, there is a certain sense that the tics of indie music have now become the norm. The grandeous arrangements that were fresh with the first Arcade Fire release are now just standard fare, as is the lush reverb drippings of Northwest Pacific indie. The twitchy rhythms of math-rock were so foreign to people cultured in the smooth 4 / 4 timings that there was a sense of adventure, of daring, to the music. Now, unusual timings are often just expected, and in fact, if they are absent, the sound is just dismissed as empty and a tossed off piece.

My greatest fear, however, is that with the passing of the decade, we are following the pattern (albeit as a poor malnourished cousin) that was seen after the 60's. After the great rush of the golden decade, there came the 70's. Technically, in my view, 1970 and 1971 were two of the best years for music that the world has ever seen, but having said this, the decade certainly did drift into an aimless depression, especially as heroes of the 60's disappeared, or accounted for their lack of inspiration by becoming ever-more reliant upon old work. For as much as the Rolling Stones have become a rock institution, it is depressing to think of the commonly held belief that they have not produced anything of cultural importance since the early 70's.

The sad reflection is that the present attitude seems to be that the future of music appears to be believed to lie somewhere in the 80's. Or rather, a cheap depiction of the decade, as artists plunder the old to sate an apparent creative block. Worse, the source of the mania seems to be the result of over-enthusiastic dollops of whipped nostalgia, as musicians sneak "authentic" synths into their albums, manufacture songs of absurd layered complexity, and treat drums within an inch of their heartbeat. Even grunge is being dusted off, with any number of pretenders with cardboard crowns being thrust onto weary ears. Popular music has been flooded with renditions of techno songs that would have been cheesy in the early 90's, and yet the big stars shamelessly copy, and haul in the return. In indie rock, the mindset has changed from early Springsteen to the arena of Born To Run, as do-it-yourself has passed on to studio sheen. This is not a bad thing, necessarily, as rock, by its very nature, is a limiting animal, and one cannot begrudge musicians looking to further their musical output. And it is without doubt an extremely daunting proposition to ask "where next?" of a rock musician, simply by virtue of how limiting the genre can be. To subtly change one's sound without losing the core of what caused the initial success is an well-known pitfall, and one which any musician hoping to carve a career must master.

But with the return of the retro, and especially the 80's, I think my fear is possibly best encapsulated by a recent interview with Morrissey, in which he opines, "But I’m not an anarchist, I’m a very quiet and composed person. But really, isn’t it more to do with the fact that there’s nobody in modern pop music who makes any social statement whatsoever? And there’s a massive dumbing-down in England now, which mimics America in the 1990s, where everything is intellectually reduced. It’s very prevalent in television especially, whereby only very standard views can be expressed, and anybody who has another view is censored.”

It is the dumbing down that really concerns me, as subtle riffs are replaced by braying synths, and artists become so over-treated as to be unrecognisable. Artists now sound like their heroes, and often in an uncomfortable way. There is a sense of elements being welded together merely for the ironic cool- the sniff of the hipsters, who can claim to be fans of things that were never cool. Married to this, as it is with success in anything, there may still remain the sense of loss of the outsider status. Growth and maturity are hard beasts to tame, and I fear that with the passing of the first decade of this new Millennium, we are not about to re-enter the musical Dark Ages, a two decade run that saw the music industry decline to tragic depths during the 70's and 80's.

To quote director Todd Haynes, "It's tough, man," he says. "Digital media and new technologies are moving so fast and there's a giddy commitment to their changes, but it's such a short, narrow vision. It makes me nervous. What's sick is that last year was the highest-grossing year for studios on record, and that's the year they reduced the genres down to adventure films and romantic comedies. Hollywood always underwrote its smaller projects by its more successful ones, but it maintained diversity and choice." In some ways, indie now seems to have joined Hollywood, and perhaps there are some who are not quite sure what to make of that.

I suppose that I may have succumbed to the persona of that constant moper Morrissey, but in a last parting shot, in the previously mentioned interview he said the following: “There’s something about the public always wanting a reformation here and there from such a body and such a band, just because they feel, ‘We're the public and we can demand it.’ And once it happens, nobody’s really interested." In the context I have been discussing, possibly we, as the indie crowd, don't know what we want as we enter an age of what has thus far appeared to only be repackaging.

Mix 04 - 2011

2011-05-21T04:35:00.000-07:00

Ponytail - Flabbermouse (Do Whatever You Want All The Time : We Are Free, 2011)
Sick Of Sarah - Overexposure (2205 - BitTorrent Edition)
Yo La Tengo - Upside-Down (Prisoners of Love : A Smattering of Scintillating Senescent Songs 1985 - 2003 : Matador, 2005)
Cloud Nothings - Understand At All (Cloud Nothings : Wichita/Carpark, 2011)
The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart - Heart In Your Heartbreak (Belong : Slumberland, 2011)
Mind Spiders - No Romance (Mind Spiders : Dirtnap, 2011)
Mr. Dream - Scarred For Life (Trash Hit : God Mode, 2011)
Mike Watt - Hill-Man (Hyphenated-Man : Org / Clenchedwrench, 2011)
Yellowbirds - Our Good Days Are Gone (The Color : Royal Potato Family, 2011)
Southeast Engine - 1933 (Great Depression) (Canary : Misra, 2011)
Kurt Vile - Puppet To The Man (Smoke Ring For My Halo : Matador, 2011)
Maritime - People Of London (Human Heart : Dangerbird, 2011)
The Feelies - Nobody Knows (Here Before : Bar/None, 2011)
Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit - Alabame Pines (Here We Rest : Lightning Rod, 2011)
The Mountain Goats - Damn These Vampires (All Eternals Deck : Merge, 2011)
Marah - Phantom Eyes (Let's Cut The Crap and Hook Up Later On : Phidelity, 2004)
Bonnie "Prince" Billy & the Cairo Gang - Island Brothers (Island Brothers EP: Drag City, 2011)
Gregory Alan Isakov - Evelyn (This Empty Northern Hemisphere : Gregory Alan Isakov, 2009)
J Mascis - Not Enough (Several Shades Of Why : Sub Pop, 2011)
Alela Diane - Elijah (Alela Diane & Wild Divine : Rough Trade, 2011)
The Rural Alberta Advantage - The Breakup (Departing : Saddle Creek / Paper Bag, 2011)

And into another debate...

2011-05-21T04:19:00.000-07:00

I caught myself in my last column (and yes, I do take pride in using this word, delusions of grandeur, which to my horror calls to mind the recently shorn poodle hair of James May...) in preaching a thoroughly middle road and "sensible" approach as I poured derision over those youthful, passionate persons, focused exclusively on their views. The idea that people should be a little more reticent in their views, and vociferous support of any particular art is, on further contemplation, a hard line to traverse, as due to their very nature, people are going to have profoundly varying tastes. The trick comes in at being able to engage differing views whilst retaining ones own that the lines become grey and blurred.

I was profoundly aware of this recently when a few of us became engaged in a discussion over, curiously enough, sport. The old debate over the merits of Nadal as against Federer came up, and although I fall solidly within the Federer camp, ironically, I found myself supporting Nadal. Be this as it may, my interest was piqued at the moment when views began to be expressed, as the conversation became extremely stilted and fell away almost immediately. It was if people either could not muster the energy to care, or were shying away from any sort of confrontation, preferring rather to dwell on nostalgia and past times. An admirable pursuit, the latter, but a dangerous one as we all well know. Things always look a little better through rose-coloured lenses, idealised and romanticised against the hard light of the every day.

I always find this disappointing, as there is nothing worse than discourse to be left sitting haplessly in mid-air. A dirty social error, that people would rather forget as if it were a slur that must be immediately ignored and removed from the collective memory. Music is one of the trickiest of all, as it becomes wrapped up not only in personal tastes but also memories and people. A song heard at a specific moment can have meaning for just the snatch of a line, or because of the company in which it was heard. I recall a friend becoming a hyperactive grinning dervish whenever Katy Perry's I Kissed A Girl came on, or another who would feel this uncontrollable urge to throw a punch at whomever was in his immediate vicinity whenever the Killer's Mr. Brightside came on. Heard in the daylight however, and they would give mumbled, embarrassed explanations that they don't really like the songs much at all, but that it must be heard in context.

But of course, people do have views, and the trick lies in how those views are expressed. To put it cynically, one would imagine that there must be genuine, or at least feigned, interest, and doubt that is potentially (seemingly) open to suggestion, combined with a passion for music in order for there to be any meaningful conversation. Indie rock falls down, though, as it can too easily become a plethora of obscure bands that are unknown to most, with the result that there just isn't scope for discussion from the outset. To draw an extreme example : "They sort of sound a bit like Broken Social Scene, with a bit of the National, but with this twist of a kind of disco feel of like MGMT but more edgy with some Aphex Twin, and the added intensity of the Microphones" becomes decipherable such as to be meaningless. One can only nod, and perhaps mumble, "Sounds interesting" and move on to more fruitful topics of conversation. Leaving aside that this is an extreme example (although I wonder what a cross of this nature would sound like?) and that some of the names may be unfamiliar, there are just too many genre signifiers for it to promote anything meaningful. It becomes a peacock's parade, as people display knowledge as opposed to any particular view.

This is one side, as the other indie fans become more like older rock fans - they still possess a wealth of arcane knowledge, but are less open to suggestion and are thus more reticent to express their tastes. I fall solidly within this category, I know what I like, and for the most part, I just leave it at that. People needn't be overly concerned as I shall not bombard any with bands that I believe must be heard - they receive a mention here, of course, but little else.

It is sad point of view to adopt though, as there is an obviously communal element to music, and this is often the reason that many of us have "early obsessions", that have developed into lifelong habits, as a result of nostalgic connotations to many bands that we regarded as seminal during our formative years. Regardless of whether or not these bands are any good in hindsight, they still retain a sepia glow that we find ourselves fostering. Furthermore, there are many of us that are compelled to share our views and wish to recapture those exciting days when a discussion over music was an event, and a pastime that we eagerly indulged in. Perhaps it is a symptom of just too much music that people are becoming lost in the ether fumes. One need only imagine the many bewildered looks that people get when they are faced with thousands of names of bands that they have never heard of, and an over-ethusiastic ringmaster, whipping them hurriedly through tracks "they have got to hear"to understand the conundrum.

A discussion is something that needs to be finished and - although music can quickly acquire that aspect of ethics where, at a certain point, the conversation boils down to where nothing further can be said - it is extremely frustrating when things are left incomplete and a discussion is brushed under the carpet. People should have their views, and although perhaps there is a need to learn to be a little less vociferous and a little more engaging, this should not destroy the conversation. I knew of people who once had a music club which was modeled on the same lines as a book club. People would meet once a month and pick a few cd's that they would bring along to share. It would not be many (I cannot recall, but I think it may have only been one or two per person for the month) and they would exchange the albums and just generally meet to have a chat. Of course, none of these clubs are intensive and often just an excuse to meet - a famous and long running Book Club is infamous for its sole qualification being that one may never discuss books at Book Club - but it is at least a forum.

So perhaps herein lies the answer. I can promise that the Breakfast Club moments shall be banned, and furthermore infringement, depending on membership numbers, will carry a variety of penalties that are open to informed and engaged negotiation, of course.

Mix 03 - 2011

2011-04-16T07:18:00.000-07:00

William Tyler - Cult Of The Peacock Angel (Behold The Spirit : Tompkins Square, 2010)
Iron & Wine - Half Moon (Kiss Each Other Clean : 4AD / Warner Bros., 2011)
East River Pipe - Backroom Deals (We Live In Rented Rooms : Merge, 2011)
Mind Spiders - One Step Ahead (Mind Spiders : Dirtnap, 2011)
Bird Of Youth - Bombs Away, She Is Here To Stay (available here)
Mansions - Blackest Sky (available here)
Surf City - Headin' Inside (Surf City EP : Morr Music / M.M, 2008)
Smith Westerns - Dance Away (Dye It Blonde : Fat Possum, 2011)
Sick Of Sarah - Kick Back (2205 - BitTorrent Edition)
Yuck - The Wall (Yuck : Fat Possum, 2011)
Mr. Dream - Holy Name (Trash Hit : God Mode, 2011)
Dum Dum Girls - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out (He Gets Me High EP : Sub Pop, 2011)
Five O'Clock Heroes - City Of Lights (available here)
Bright Eyes - Haile Selassie (The People's Key : Saddle Creek, 2011)
Cake - Ruby Sees All (Motorcade Of Generosity : Upbeat, 2009)
Daniel Martin Moore - Dark Road (In The Cool Of The Day : Sub Pop, 2011)
Drive-By Truckers - Go-Go Boots (Go-Go Boots : ATO, 2011)
Hello Echo - When Push Comes To Love (Hello : Hello Echo, 2011)
The Rural Alberta Advantage - Barnes' Yard (Departing : Saddle Creek / Paper Bag, 2011)
Papercuts - I'll See You Later I Guess (Fading Parade : Sub Pop, 2011)
Chris Bathgate - No Silver (available here)

State of the Nation

2011-04-16T06:48:00.000-07:00

I was struck as the start of 2011 began with its usual flurry of brow-beating and pseudo-reflection by the reaction to our President presenting his State of the Nation speech. In contrast to the seeming reaction to Barack Obama's similar address (although, admittedly, I am not privy to personal reactions in the States- to which there was seeming consternation as to how the year's problems would be addressed), here the announcement of the speech was greeted with an unusual eagerness. Politics, although deeply ground into our psyche as a nation, is a sphere largely ignored by the middle-class for the reason of their being profoundly in the minority, and beaten into resignation that there is little use in speaking in face of the inevitability that the overwhelming masses will determine the course of any vote. I can hear the politicians and political students leaping to their feet in protest at such a negative opinion, but a cynic I remain. But I digress, as together with the announcement of the President's Speech, came invitations as students flocked together to eagerly press their faces to a TV. With alcohol in hand. The rules were numerous, but simple, with the sole aim, as is the wont of all university students, to drink oneself into a stupor. For example, each time Mr. Zuma "ummed or ahhed", one had to drink, each time he pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, one had to drink, and pauses were timed to determine drinking time. I forget the bulk of the rules, but I can confirm that there were a considerable number to ensure that there was much drinking to be done.

I would not presume to try and create a drinking game from some premise contained here (although, suggestions are welcome), but I was attracted by the delivery of some sort of a similar address in my capacity as President of Nobody's Business But My Own. Illusions of grandeur I will admit to, but nonetheless, I have to concede to being profoundly disappointed by the slew of albums that have greeted the start of 2011. This was to the extent that I found myself glorying in classic releases rather, being profoundly moved by the brilliance of the Allman Brothers Live at Fillmore East, and the guitar hystrionics of an early Buddy Guy. Bright Eyes' The People's Key struck me as unfocused as Conor Oberst struggled to move away from his country rocker facade towards a more proggy, rock influenced performer. An intermittent album, in all the senses this can be thought of. Girls' Broken Dreams EP was a brief flame, as this band does promise much, although EP's are difficult to gauge and their sound is one that can bleed into itself after a while; the Decemberists' The King Is Dead also displayed a band trying a new style which sort of works without being something to rave about, and the comment that it is a little too polished is apt; and there were a slew of Slumberland C86 revival style bands, and garage rock that have possibly overworn their welcome and failed to greatly inspire. The Drive-By Truckers' The Go-Go Boots sees the band resorting to country and funk, with varying results, and Iron & Wine returned with Kiss Each Other Clean which I am sad to report was always going to be marked as the album after The Shepherd's Dog. And the 90's revivalist bands seem to be strong this year, with Yuck and Mr. Dream, never mind the curious mix of Built to Spill and Northwest indie which is marked on Hello Echo's Hello.

But top of the pile, sadly, must be Radiohead's King of Limbs, which the more I try to listen to, instils me with profound disappointment. It is only my opinion, as others certainly purportedly hear something which I do not, and this is to my detriment perhaps. However, I cannot shake the fact that the album does not inspire me, which is sad as I feel like a shark that must continue to roam to keep alive.

There has been a brief revival however, with the excellent release by J. Mascis in Several Shades of Why which sees the 90's maestro pairing down his acoustic guitar to meet his croaking voice. And notable mention must go to the Dum Dum Girls' He Gets Me High EP, and Bonnie Prince Billy & the Cairo Gangs' Island Brothers despite these both being EP releases that promise a taste but are unable to sate. And I was mightily impressed with the cohesion of vision on Kurt Vile's Smoke Ring For My Halo, the buzzing exuberance of Cloud Nothings' self-titled release, and Surf City's Kudos.

I have omitted a number of releases, there is considerably more that has passed across my earphones, but sadly I cannot really say that I have found my figurehead release for 2011 thus far. Impatience on my part, possibly, but for any person who listens to a lot of music, there are always going to be those albums to which one cannot listen to enough. It might not be popular, or even cool, but for whatever reason an album evokes some emotion. Within my fugue, however, I am prone to fussing, and so the thought struck me as to whether or not I actually know what I want to hear. After little soul searching, I came to the conclusion that I rarely know what I want, but in some comfort to myself, I am not sure that anyone does. It is too often that we make decisions that are often not good for us (therein usually lies the perverse attraction on some level), or in fact waver over decisions that need to be made immediately. I suppose for many of us, we become unaccustomed to having to make serious decisions, as they don't usually arise all that often. When they do, they come replete with almost crippling doubt and fear as we hesitate over trying to ensure that we get it right. I suppose my point is that we got older, and just didn't realise it.

In some (and many) senses, I have often clung to a pessimistic and cynical opinion of human life, and our abilities to socially interact with one another. But in possibly a first for this writer, I don't actually intend to draw any conclusions from this, after having made a serious life decision in recent weeks, I am weary of musing over possible avenues and future predictions. Nostradamus plucking the future from the stars, and insight that can be drawn from the rippling of a stone dropped in water - melodramatic accounts of introspection and the associated stress that inevitably follows. I shall firmly maintain that there is little I do know, and what I think I know, I am still not completely sure about. A shark indeed, but I do not mean to depict myself as some rootless wanderer. I am anything but, as I know all too well, nor am I some negative, bitter person, chewing on my pencil in some sort of a conscious limbo- or at least this conception is one I don't reserve for myself. Defiance is something I am usually fairly good at, so I'll stick with it, even if one comes slightly more reserved and careful about advancing an opinion. As ASylum indicated, people who loudly present with MUSIC! BOOKS! ART! DRAMA! can almost seem shallow in their opinionated fumes that are too exuberant to be taking seriously. I don't mock the passion, but merely reflect the slightly more pensive tolerance that becomes a marker of a number of years following a particular scene. But similarly, those that flit with apparent ease between their views and cultural opinions are hard to pin down, and easily dismissed as hipster fascionistas following the crowd. In fact, one could say that they actually display only a true interest for something other than the pursuit they are hip on. My point is possibly then best rephrased in the form of the question, how often do we truly know what we want?

I am still waiting for the musical riches of 2011 to reveal themselves. Possibly I should adapt the homage to Yuri Gargarin which requires astronauts to pee on the rear wheel of the shuttle that is to deliver them to the launch pad. A vehicle in the parking lot of my office may have to suffice however, as I consider that my desires are lesser, but my superstitious tribute towards my musical fortunes could possibly do me some good. It may do my employment prospects some harm but then I would insist that one can never truly tell about these things.

Mix 02 - 2011

2011-03-13T07:44:00.000-07:00

Keith Richards - Blue Monday (A Stone Alone – available here)
Tristen - Cheatin' (Eager For Your Love 7" – available here)
Drive-By Truckers - I Do Believe (Go-Go Boots : ATO, 2011)
The Decemberists - Calamity Song (The King Is Dead : Rough Trade / Capitol, 2011)
Cloud Nothings - Nothing's Wrong (Cloud Nothings : Wichita / Carpark, 2011)
Hellogoodbye - Getting Old (Would It Kill You? : Rocket Science, 2010)
Smith Westerns - Weekend (Dye It Blonde : Fat Possum, 2011)
Yuck - Get Away (Yuck : Fat Possum, 2011)
Surf City - Zombies (Kudos : Fire, 2010)
Girls - Heartbreaker (Broken Dreams Club EP : True Panther, 2010)
The National - So Far Around The Bend (Dark Was The Night : 4AD, 2009)
Sic Alps - Ball Of Fame (Napa Asylum : Drag City, 2011)
Iron & Wine - Tree By The River (Kiss Each Other Clean: Sub Pop, 2011)
Feist & Ben Gibbard - Train Song (Dark Was The Night : 4AD, 2009)
Doug Paisley - No One But You (Constant Companion : No Quarter, 2010)
Gillian Welch & Conor Oberst - Lua (Dark Was The Night : 4AD, 2009)
Twilight Singers - Gunshots (Dynamite Steps : Sub Pop, 2011)
She Keeps Bees - Get Gone (Nests : PID, 2009)
Daniel Martin Moore - Set Things Alright (In The Cool Of The Day : Sub Pop, 2011)
Wooden Wand - Sleepwalking After Midnight (Death Seat : Young God, 2010)

Radiohead - The King Of Limbs

2011-03-13T07:29:00.000-07:00

The release of a new Radiohead album is always an event. I got an excited message as to whether or not I was aware of the impending release – I was – and so began the countdown. For many of us, the band remains the seminal author of our musical education. The beloved auteurs that one daren’t express anything other than admiration and loyalty to, and for the most of us, remain the greatest living band of our generation.

ASylum refused to offer his opinion before I had heard the album, saying only that we would exchange thoughts in due time. Intrigued, I immediately plugged it in, only to be greeted by the thought that they, of course, had again succeeded in taking another left turn that was predictable in only that we all knew that we hadn't seen it coming.

I should perhaps admit, at this point, to have become a slightly jaded Radiohead fan. To blast roughly their catalogue, following the career high that was OK Computer, there was an obvious need to break new ground, and so one goes into the experimental detour that turned out to be Kid A. This was followed by its more intelligible brother Amnesiac, and then into Hail To The Thief, which personally, I found slightly disappointing, but was pulled back into the pendulum with In Rainbows and renewed enthusiasm. But, if I am truly honest, I can’t help but feel that my favourite albums remain OK Computer, with I Might Be Wrong following a close second. There is something about the urgency and the slightly ragged edges that distinguish those albums for me, even if I will readily concede to it boiling down to only an issue of taste. When one is taking fractions of degrees between albums, I suppose, one tends to come down a little more cruelly in judgment.

I digress. So with my copy of King of Limbs in a grubby paw, I set down to try and unravel the album. And to document the process, I thought that I might record my thoughts as they came to me, and I post them here, in their rough composition.

Day One

One can almost hear the band decrying that the riff is a relic of the rock behemoth that we have all become obsessed with, and so we must learn to appreciate new forms and different ideas. This is certainly not the return of the great stadium album that the British press has been yearning - the proof that British musicians are still able to produce those global superstars that can dominate the world scene. Instead Radiohead have returned, quite true to fashion, with an album that is not altogether unsurprising, but at the same time, with a mischievous wink and grin of the Loki of the past two decades.

The opening tracks have a sort of stuttering dub-step feel about them, one that clatters and knocks with a insistent beat that is not quite jazz but alien and unusual. The surrounding cast, meanwhile, indulge themselves in the clutter of found sound, ambient noise, and avante-garde classical, where the riffs are cyclical, working in aid of a mood, and Thom Yorke quietly intones his scrapbook of lyrics amongst the other players. One can imagine Phil Selway crying over his drumset, whilst he is restrained to a fairly limited array of strange timings, the Ringo of this array of sounds, and the Greenwoods and O'Brien busy themselves amongst their instruments and various electronic goods. One cannot help but note an element of restraint as the band hold back in some semblance of order, instead of cutting loose into scronk, and pure noise, as the album moves within some of the more experimental notions of their palette but with due acknowledgment to their most recent albums. This means that one is left with a Radiohead album that proudly displays reinvention, but holds something back so that everyone can definitively say that it is still the band that recorded the past 3 albums. The cynic may point out that it is a smart move, commercially, as if the music became unintelligible, the market would accordingly disappear. But then again, this is Radiohead, the band that will sell a million albums, if only to hear Thom Yorke babble and twitch about global warming, or the death of the music industry.

This is Radiohead the electronic band. There is little semblance to the beloved 90's wunderbrats, but rather they have taken a step back towards their very divisive alter ego that was introduced by Kid A. The album, for 5 tracks anyway, has a sort of lounge feel to it, but which contains that unmistakable Radiohead cool. However, with the close of the album, the act runs a little thin, and one is again confronted by a band that knows how to write songs which cannot hide their pop sensibilities. In "Codex", one is treated to the closest thing to a ballad that they have produced in some time, as a throbbing piano colours Yorke's unmistakable warble, and pulses gently knock in the background. This gives way to "Give Up The Ghost" which sees them channel something of a Volcano Choir atmosphere- falsetto and treated vocals intertwine gorgeously with Yorke to create a deceptively simple and beautiful song. And then finally, "Separator" opens with the most conventional presentation on the album, in which something of a "Bends" era feel peers cheekily from beneath the glossy veneer. And, at last, we are indulged with an unmistakable Johnny Greenwood riff that sparkles in its simplicity. One can forgive him for wishing to forgo the howling solos of his earlier career, but with an ability to write such eerily gorgeous riffs, perhaps he can forgive us for longing to hear more from him.

And so it is that another Radiohead album has found its way into our hands. It is not the album people were hoping for, but perhaps it is the one that was expected. It is Radiohead after all, so woe betide the person that speaks afoul of the band. However, this album will not satisfy everyone, even if it is sure to excite any amount of digital ink expounded in love and hate. This behaviour woiuld occur regardless of what they had produced, as is the response from the critics whom will build into a frenzy in its praise. And after 4 years, and another 8 songs, the artists that seem to do no wrong have once again returned, steadfastly towing the line of overtly refusing to bow to any sort of commercial pressure, or fan whims, but, at the same, time, quietly ingesting various scene moves, and genre signifiers. There is something of a note of despair as I write this, as the return of the 80's music scene becomes ominously prevalent, with even Radiohead, seemingly unable to avoid it. A change is desperately needed, this I will concede, although I somehow doubt that this is it. But then again, who does? And Radiohead, even if at times it seems that they would wish away their fans and their desires, will doubtlessly win even more, as they always do.

Week Two

I hear reports that the critics are unanimously in support of this album, although they all seem to indicate that it is a slow appreciation that will only develop over many listens. I can sort of understand how that may happen, as due to the band, many of us want to like everything that they do. It is almost akin to that book that if you have successfully managed to finish it, it can then be displayed as a signifier of your intellectual stature. "I mostly only read Proust" or "I have read Gravity's Rainbow and that is my favourite book".

ASylum has already signaled initial disappointment, although he is endeavouring to further immerse himself, reporting that he sees potential in tracks “Morning Mr Magpie” and “Little By Little”. I have to, however, concede some severe misgivings on the album. There is something missing, and they have moved into a genre that, personally, I feel little empathy for. I suppose I must also admit that upon further listening, Selway appears to be a more subtly intricate presence than I initially thought. But the opening track opens into something of a dance band weaving jazz rhythms, but in a way that lacks the sort of alien rejection that permeated Kid A. An opener by which to signal what is to come, and certainly a track to lead the listener into the new musical world that Radiohead have created for this album. This then bleeds into "Morning Mr Magpie" which opens with a stuttering guitar solo, but similarly, clutches to tension more than anything else. This then continues into "Little By Little", which on closer examination, sounds more emblematic of "In Rainbows" than upon first glance. A walking bass, leads into the densely immersive electronic field that is a hallmark of recent Radiohead, but there is a disconcerting ticking electronic that is the centrepiece around which the song revolves. A reminder that this is the more dance friendly Radiohead...

And it is at this point that I realized that pursuing this exercise was possibly more harmful to my objectivity than beneficial, and that, actually, I was not enjoying it. Happily, ASylum agreed, advising that he feared that he was becoming obsessed, so much so that possibly it would be better to leave the album to lie for a moment. In truth, I am deeply disappointed, but I must qualify this by saying only that the band has taken a turn in genre that I simply do not like. My ability to appreciate electronic music extends only to ambience and exercises in sound, but beyond this, I can only shrug diffidently to my tutelage in the 60’s and being obstinate. I am, indeed, the same person that was recently mocked for still using Winamp and a p2p.

But it is entirely understandable that any person who becomes obsessed by music would begin to question what it is that constitutes “music”. For many of us, “music” was originally defined by some artist that had a seminal impact upon our conscience. Be it the 60’s, punk, or metal, there is a time when sound begins to make sense beyond being just noise. It does not follow that we necessarily should become constrained by that original conception, but it does provide a blueprint through which one is confronted by whether a lack of a beat, rhythm or melodic lyric crosses the line between a song being defined as music or as only sound. I have heard something of this conundrum in Radiohead for some time, especially as they have become increasingly infamous for stretching the boundaries between their pop sensibilities and their experimental tendencies. In fact, it is the success that they have had in straddling this divide that has led to the cult fandom which they now enjoy.

However, the thought that is burning a hole in my head is one that struck whilst listening to “Lotus Flower”. I cannot help but imagine the band as middle-aged men (which they are), who, in fact, would be far happier to simply sip their herbal tea and quietly do their yoga without the hubbub that surrounds their every move. I cannot blame them. I fear that possibly we have become so obsessed with trying to guess where their next musical idea is going to lead them, that we have forgotten that, ultimately, we just want to listen to the music that they make. Expectations are always going to be unreasonable, and in fact, I fear that we have permeated the band to such an extent that they sit and evaluate their compositions by only whether they have done it before as opposed to whether they actually like it or not.

People are entitled to an opinion. Perhaps it is time that we extend the same luxury to the band. Instead, people write that this is the greatest release of their career, even if “it takes considerable effort and immersion to hear it”. I may be cynical, but in my view, if you listen something long enough, determined to like what you are hearing, you will find merit. This is Radiohead, they are a proven outfit who are extremely inventive, great musicians, and who make music that is dense and heavily layered with nuance. But beyond all of this, it still doesn’t mean that you have to like it.

The album is divisive, some people will love, others will not. This is only my two cents, even if I admit that by entering the fray in this manner, I am further fuelling the problem. But, perhaps, it is time to listen to the band for the album that they have produced, as opposed to weighing it down with the legend that has preceded it. Maybe then we can finally arrive at a point where we don't need to endure the bleating of those who have bought blindly and who then loudly provide justification to all and sundry for the purchase.

Mix 01 - 2011

2011-02-06T05:21:00.000-08:00

The Fresh & Onlys - Who Needs A Man (Play It Strange : In The Red, 2010)
Superchunk - Everything At Once (Majesty Shredding : Merge, 2010)
Hellogoodbye - When We First Kissed (Would It Kill You? : Rocket Science, 2010)
The Intellgence - The Beetles (Males : In The Red, 2010)
Wavves - Take On The Word (King Of The Beach : Fat Possum, 2010)
California Wives - Blood Red Youth (available here)
Weekend – Coma Summer (Sports : Slumberland, 2010)
Quinn Marston - Can Your Hear Me See Me Now (available here)
Cloud Nothings - Whaddaya Wanna Know (Turning On : Carpark Records, 2010)
Girls - Alright (Broken Dreams Club EP : True Panther, 2010)
The Corin Tucker Band - Handed Love (1,000 Years : Kill Rock Stars, 2010)
The Decemberists - Rox In The Box (The King Is Dead : Rough Trade/Capitol, 2011)
The Black Twig Pickers - Picking Out The Devil’s Eyes (Ironto Special : Thrill Jockey, 2010)
Tristen - Baby Drugs (available here)
Wooden Wand - Bobby (Death Seat : Young God, 2010)
The Extra Lens - Some Other Way (Undercard : Merge, 2010)
Antony & the Johnsons - Imagine (Thank You For Your Love EP : Rough Trade/Secretly Canadian, 2010)
Hammock - Something Other Than Remaining (Chasing After Shadows...Living With Ghosts : Hammock, 2010)
Woody Guthrie – Ain’t Nobody’s Business (My Dusty Road : Rounder/Pgd, 2009)

Pavlov and Rock 'n Roll

2011-02-06T04:53:00.000-08:00

The New Year seems to always present itself in the most innocuous fashion for most of us, the predictably forced New Year's Eve party that sees a desperate attempt to celebrate the passing of time, the exhaustion of the festive period and the sheer disappointment at once again returning to the office. I am not a cyncial and jaded office worker.

I was reading an unusually trite article recently, entitled "Is Rock'n Roll Finally Dead?", which is enough to say that I immediately could not explain why I found myself reading it. It is quite astonishing the items that are considered newsworthy in this modern day and age - how fascinating is it that David and Posh Beckham are having another child? - but in this particular piece, there were two comments that piqued my interest, and I think they are worth quoting:

From redletterday99:

"Most rock music fans nowadays either stick to what they know or search for newer bands on smaller labels, which are less likely to hit the charts because their singles aren't commercially marketed. Heck, some of the bands I know even give away their songs for free just to spark some interest.

It's not that rock is dying, it's just going back to the hands of the die-hards, not teenagers who change their music taste every month once someone in the media they idolise decides The Killers aren't cool anymore and that some rapper who has too many clothes so that he keeps some at his aunt's house is.

Most modern day music is incredibly vapid anyway, including most mainstream rock. Lyrics such as those to songs like the aural syphilis of 'Sex On Fire', for example, just make the genre seem even more irrelevant as time goes on."

And MdaSilva:

"Rock music is definitely not dead. It's just that mainstream media (Radio 1, Local radio, etc) are not playlisting it as much. They prefer the commercial pap that gets churned out by acts like JLS and such like.

This is where internet radio can make a difference..."

The article itself was a predictably tired attempt at copy, in fact, it struck as someone simply meeting a deadline, words spilling out from the first thing that came to mind. It its hardly as if this is unusual, and I suppose I am at least to blame for reading it in the first place. But I found myself thinking recently on whether it is true to say that for many of us that find redemption in music, that we become mired in sounds of our past. To begin, I am not saying that we are unable to break free from some early folly or obsession, but rather that for each of us, there is a time when some form of music imprints upon us, and we are forever then enduring waves in nostalgia the moment we hear that artist or sound. As Keith Richards notes in his biography, one of his early icons was Chuck Berry, and although he proved to be a disappointment to meet, for Keith, he writes that Chuck Berry's remains special. For me, it was the moment that I heard Weezer's Buddy Holly, as although I grew up on a steady diet of Beatles, who I still adore, I have this obsession with 90's music, even though, at the time, I didn't particularly like much of it or the angst that accompanied. In fact, I retain this idea of slacker cool, even though, at the time, this was hardly something I understood, or embodied, and I certainly could not have pretended to be the unambitious layabout, who exuded cool from an exterior of angry, pseudo-intellectual demotivation.

I am thinking of my friend ASylum, whose early days were marked by Nirvana idolization, and yet who now presents himself as a rap-loving Radiohead fan. Is this to say that the 90's albums are forgotten, replaced, or extinguished from his psyche? I sure it is to the contrary, much as I find myself listening haphazardly to old 90's albums, and enjoying them as much as I ever did. One has to wonder though about whether it is simply a matter of circumstance (leaving aside musical interest as being a prerequisite) that music lovers find themselves imprinting on certain genres simply by the age that they find themselves in. Is it a question of purely nurture?

I suppose much is dependent upon the family environment, in that if one is exposed only to classical music from the outset, although one may move on to popular music, the early education will retain some force. To digress briefly, isn't it curious that we still seem to retain this notion of high music- classical - going into jazz before speaking of those lesser forms of popular music, finally arriving at this loathsome concept of pop which is reserved only for those who have little more than a passing interest or is reserved for the realm of impressionable teenagers? It is useful, I think to consider this question, as easily as I have categorized genres, I suppose we also tend to index our musical history - those artists that our parents listened to and on whom we grew up; then the first "wow" sound that really got us into music; and then everything that we have heard since then. Vast record collections that have a unique story. I was always somewhat in awe of the idea of the music fan that is portrayed in High Fidelity who is able to recall exactly where and when he bought an album. But it is not, in truth that far fetched, as I can usually tell at which phase I was in when I bought an album, even if these "phases" have lengthened and crystallised over the years. I cannot, however, tell you in what order my albums were purchased, and I recall with some amusement the complaints people had when my collection was ordered chronologically (and no, my record collection is not that big by even modest standards).

To some extent, I perhaps need to admit that I may have subsequently intellectualized my specific obsession to 90's music, by which I mean that I have become far more immersed in the music of that time long after it ceased to be popular. In the 90's, I knew nothing of Sebadoh, Pavement, Archers of Loaf (though I had watched Mallrats) or any of the other seminal "indie" acts of that period. My knowledge was limited to Nirvana, Silverchair, Rage Against the Machine and Stone Temple Pilots. The geek rock grunge of Weezer was so different to my ears, which had resisted the temptations of Nirvana, and initially preferred the pop-punk of Green Day. In other words, I merely picked up the college chic so prevalent to those indie artists, and that which propelled them to the cult heights they now occupy. I adore Superchunk, and yet, for many friends I have played them to, they remain a mere curiousity.

I suppose, as I keep saying, music is unique, fun, and highly subjective. Each person has their own particular lexicon, and at the end of the day, most people are not going to like much of your tastes. You can try and be discerning, but ultimately, short of resorting to radio fodder which everyone knows, you're likely to experience the embarrassment of music which is contrary to the groups'. Best just to play it soft, so that no-one is listening anyway. And to bring it all full circle, at the New Years Eve party that I found myself in attendance at, people ended up playing a game where each person had to put a song on to a playlist, with the worst pick being voted by the group, and punishment being meted out with a wooden spoon. A cruel game, especially as one could see people desperately trying not to pick something that would attract attention, whilst also displaying some credibility for the choice. A cruel game indeed.

A belated mention...

2010-12-23T07:36:00.000-08:00

I find myself in the rather unfamiliar position at present where personal circumstances, and financial constraints, have conspired to deprive me of regular internet access. It is a strange feeling in this day and age, although it is a reminder that one should not take too much for granted perhaps. It is the end of year, in any event, and many of us are simply going through the motions to find our way to Christmas fare.

Someone asked my significant other recently what they should get me for Christmas, and the reply came in the form of, "he listens to music no-one has ever heard of, so don't even think of getting him a CD". I, naturally, bristled at the response, but I am up for the challenge, and I shall have to embark upon an education program (to my one reader, you know precisely what this means- and yes, the mix-tapes have already been produced...) I do have to constantly remind myself, though, that indie music remains very much a niche market, and I remain very much in the minority in my listening tastes. And, I cannot disagree with Will Stratton's disapproval of the current mania for finding new music at the expense of proper appreciation. It is a well-worn sentiment on this blog, and cannot say that I have the energy, or audacity to indulge your patience, to repeat it again.

For all of the perceived prominence that "indie" has on the net, and the repeated use of songs in popular television programs, it is possibly worth reminding each other that for all the talk, and "scholarly" reviews, if we don't buy the music, or support the artists, we are doing little to promote anything at all. It was a stark reminder when I received one of those occasional, haphazard, e-mails from the Wrens recently, reminding everyone that they do still exist, they are still recording - or thinking about releasing another album - and asking people to buy a t-shirt to help fund the new record...

And on top of all this, it seems that there is an unusual furor in the world of late - if one takes a snapshot of today alone - HMV looking as if it is about to fold, riots in London as students protest student tuition fees (although there is a rather amusing description of Prince Charles smiling and waving as protesters trash his car...in fairness, I suppose, what else can you do?) and the ongoing uproar that has been prompted by the WikiLeaks announcements.

Even the report on the unscrupulous attorney, whilst raising my ire, is little more than a hiccup on the landscape of the real world. Technically, many of us understand that as the law sits, piracy and copyright infringement is a huge problem. Artists are concerned for good reason, as should we be as fans. Can we honestly expect artists to make music with little expectation of remuneration? If we are content to idolize people in their garage, we have to accept that their output is going to be limited, and their opportunity to acquire a greater audience is dramatically reduced. I, for one, am immensely sad that I will not likely have the opportunity to see the many artists I admire. It is absolutely essential that artists tour, as it creates the opportunity for them to perfect their craft, and allow them to grow and follow their dreams. If a band is able to forgo their day job to pursue music full time, I think, as a fan, we should only be supportive of their success.

However, where the problem lies is in trying to negotiate the current view that many listeners have that they are entitled to music as of right, and juxtaposing this to the financial realities of trying to make money. I think it is mostly a given that, as a general rule, we need to understand that the notion of the 70's and 80's music gods - where fame brings immense fortune to fund the dream life - is largely gone. Of course, it still exists amongst the multi-platinum selling rappers and occasional country or pop star, but for the most part, these are the exception, rather than the rule. We, as listeners, need to understand that many artists are already cognisant to this potential reality, but are still taking their chance. The music industry is a graveyard of attempts, and we are left, generally, remembering only the few that made it.

This is not to say that I am advocating that people should no longer access music via the net. To the contrary, every since the idea of a "music industry" was born, people have been exchanging and giving away music. Dissemination is key to being heard. There are realities to distribution- financial constraints on record labels, and artists- to get their music out where it can be bought. Many are forced to turn to alternative means to get access to music they love. It is a reality, and especially when financial constraints restrict even getting the few albums that are available.

I, for one, cannot comprehend how it can ever be justified charging (effectively) $35 for an imported CD in this country. This is especially when there are many who know full well that that that same CD can be purchased online for a fraction of that. The problem, however, is that to indulge our needs in such spendthrift ways, and assuage righteous anger, we learn the art of patience whilst we pray that the postal service delivers our precious (and often valuable) cargo to us. Personally, I believe that this is the root of the problem, as corporations have made fortunes over the years by manipulating access and distribution. Now that an alternative has been found, it is the fans and the artists that are suffering as corporations scramble to secure their finances within the old regime. This is simplistic, I know, but the world has shifted, and for all of us in the music world, it is a matter of just having to wait and see where the middle ground is found.

But enough of this talk, as many will know, this is a pet subject of mine, and one which I find myself repeating far too often. To close, I suppose I would be remiss if I did not add my 10 cents, as it seems we are all compelled to in this game, and list my favourite releases of the year. I find it to be a thankless task, so perhaps don't take these as a recommendation, but rather my simply recording those albums of 2010 that were firm residents in my CD player.

2010

1. The Walkmen - Lisbon
2. Horse Feathers - Thistled Spring
3. The Gaslight Anthem - American Slang
4. The Black Keys - Brothers
5. The National - High Violet
6. Volcano Choir - Unmap
7. Free Energy - Stuck On Nothing
8. Fang Island - s/t
9. Tokyo Police Club - Champ
10. Andrew Cedermark - Moon Deluxe

Mix 11 - 2010

2010-11-21T00:05:00.000-08:00

Broken Social Scene - It's All Gonna Break (Broken Social Scene : Arts & Crafts, 2005)
Hellogoodbye - Finding Something To Do (Would It Kill You? : Rocket Science, 2010)
Superchunk - Crossed Wires (Majesty Shredding : Merge, 2010)
Tokyo Police Club - Not Sick (Champ : Mom & Pop, 2010)
The Thermals - Not Like Any Other Feeling (Personal Life : Kill Rockstars, 2010)
Ted Leo & The Pharmacists - Last Days (The Brutalist Bricks : Matador, 2010)
The Fresh & Only's - Until The End Of Time (Play It Strange : In The Red, 2010)
The Intelligence - White Corvette (Males : In The Red, 2010)
Belle & Sebastian - I'm Not Living In The Real World (Write About Love : Matador, 2010)
Cinema Red And Blue - Melanie Down (Cinema Red And Blue : What's Your Rupture? , 2010)
She & Him - I'm Gonna Make It Better (Volume 2 : Merge, 2010)
The Blake Babies - Waiting For Heaven (available here)
The Extra Lens - Rockin' Rockin' Twilight Of The Gods (Undercard : Merge, 2010)
The Black Keys - These Days (Brothers : Nonesuch, 2010)
She Keeps Bees - Focus (Nests : She Keeps Bees, 2009)
Seasick Steve - Prospect Lane (I Started Out With Nothing And I Still Got Most Of It Left : Wea Int'l, 2008)
Drunken Barn Dance - Evelyn Wears A Tiara (Grey Buried : Quite Scientific Records, 2010)
Andrew Cedermark - Hard Livin' (Moon Deluxe : Underwater Peoples, 2010)
Black Mountain - The Way To Gone (Wilderness Heart : Jagjaguwar, 2010)
The Walkmen - Angela Surf City (Lisbon : Fat Possum, 2010)

Mix 10 - 2010

2010-10-10T05:16:00.000-07:00

Les Savy Fav - Sleepless In Silverlake (Root For Ruin : Frenchkiss, 2010)
The Gaslight Anthem - The Spirit Of Jazz (American Slang : Sideonedummy, 2010)
Superchunk - My Gap Feels Weird (Majesty Shredding : Merge, 2010)
The Thermals - I Don't Believe In You (Personal Life : Kill Rockstars, 2010)
Arcade Fire - Month Of May (The Suburbs : Merge, 2010)
Black Mountain - The Hair Song (Wilderness Heart : Jagjaguwar, 2010)
Deerhunter - Don't Cry (Halcyon Digest : 4AD, 2010)
No Age - Valley Hump Crash (Everything In Between : Sub Pop, 2010)
Best Coast - Boyfriend (Crazy For You : Mexican Summer, 2010)
The Detroit Cobras - Shout Bama Lama (Love, Life And Leaving : Sympathy For The R.I., 2001)
The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - Hey Mom (Extra Width : Matador, 1993)
Seasick Steve & The Level Devils - Rock 'n Chair (Cheap : Bronzerat Records, 2009)
Blue Giant - The Game (Blue Giant : Vanguard, 2010)
Drunken Barn Dance - Leaving Las Vegas, Reno, Laughlin... (Grey Buried : Quite Scientific Records, 2010)
The Walkmen - Woe Is Me (Lisbon : Fat Possum, 2010)
The Dodos - Ashley (Visiter : Frenchkiss, 2008)
Ryan Bingham - Don't Wait For Me (Mescalito : Lost Highway, 2007)
Sufjan Stevens - Heirloom (All Delighted People EP : Asthmatic Kitty, 2010)
Holopaw - Ghosties (Quit +/or Fight : Sub Pop, 2005)
Strand Of Oaks - Sterling (Pope Killdragon : eMusic Select, 2010)
Bottomless Pit - 38 Souls (Blood Under The Bridge : Comedy Minus One, 2010)

Guest Mix Tape : ASylum #1

2010-10-10T05:15:00.001-07:00

The Guest Mix this month comes courtesy of the inimitable ASylum. It has been some time since I have laid my hands on one of these, and, true to form, this is a display of a unique take on the art of the mix tape.

There is an interesting jonesing on 80's frontrunners, together with some classic rock, and vaguely left-field turns, but then, as a true music fan (who has succeeded in remaining refreshingly aloof from the furor of the indie movement) it is an irrepressibly entertaining listen.

The Who - Baba O'Riley (Who's Next : MCA, 1971)
Kaiser Chiefs - Everyday I Love You Less And Less (Employment : Umvd Labels, 2005)
Stevie Wonder - Superstition (Talking Book : Motown, 1972)
Dropkick Murphys - I'm Shipping Up To Boston (The Warrior's Code : Hellcat Records, 2005)
Johnny Cash - The Man Comes Around (American IV : The Man Comes Around : Lost Highway, 2002)
Dave Brubeck Quartet - Take Five (Time Out : Sony, 1987)
Echo & the Bunnymen - The Killing Moon (Ocean Rain : Korova, 1984)
The Smiths - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out (The Queen Is Dead : Rough Trade, 1986)
The Stranglers - Golden Brown (La Folie : Liberty Records, 1981)
Lynyrd Skynyrd - Free Bird (Pronounced Leh-Nerd-Skin-Nerd : MCA, 1973)
Malvina Reynolds - Little Boxes (7" Single : RCA Victor, 1962)
Rammstein - Amerika (Reise Reise : Republic, 2004)
Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - Red Right Hand (Let Love In : Mute, 1994)
Sublime - Santeria (Sublime : MCA, 1996)
Bob Dylan - Gates Of Eden (Bringing It All Back Home : Columbia, 1965)

The Nobody's Business But My Own Top 20 Indie Guide

2010-10-10T05:15:00.000-07:00

I was asked a little while back to provide a friend with an update on some of my favourite releases, as she had found herself somewhat in the indie wilderness over the past couple of years. This is, believe it or not, fantastically easy to do in this country, as it does require quite some effort and dedication to remain informed in what is going on. This is the outer rim of the world when it comes to alternative music, as we sit bombarded by Top 40 radio and desperately little choice. In fact, it is a distinct source of irritation to me that many of my favourite artists are able to tour the Antipodes but always bypass us. We're nicer, and our weather is better, I promise. Alright, so maybe our money is not quite as valuable, nor is our government quite so settled, but it is all a part of the entertainment.

But to get back to my original premise, I, of course, took the offer (or would challenge be a better description?) to heart, and I proceeded to collect a mass of "essential" albums. I collated them by genre, lovingly referencing them, and even went so far as to include the occasional blurb on what to expect. Of course, after all this, the disc didn't work, and the project was ultimately forgotten. It is a common story, as best intentions too often go astray. I have to admit as well that I am also becomingly increasingly disconcerted by the manner in which life increasingly intervenes, and time becomes somewhat of a commodity.Anyway, I did eventually get a portion of the collection across, although in somewhat hurried and restricted circumstances.

I have never been much for the Desert Island Picks, as I find myself far too fickle and fleeting to tie myself to one thing. I know of a few albums that I regard as absolutely essential to my musical livelihood but beyond those, it is entirely a mood dependent question, and personally, with so much available, I cannot see any reason to only have few albums to rely upon. So what follows is simply the "Nobody's Business But My Own" Top 20 picks of semi-recent releases, in no particular order, on this September morning (even if this will only see publication in October...) I dare not wonder as to the future self that disagrees violently with my choices here, as is probably inevitable, or perhaps the shudder at the drivel I have recorded, but then so be it. I shall not face tomorrow's problem today.

1.   Volcano Choir - Unmap
One of the darlings of the indie-verse, much as he loathes the idea, is Justin Vernon, the author of the Bon Iver's seminal For Emma, Forever Ago. This is the sort of release that rarely comes around, garnering attention across a huge spectrum of the music industry. As a result, it appears that Bon Iver is on hiatus, although, this has not stemmed Vernon's creative juices, as he has gone on into a variety of other projects and musical collaborations. In this release, he teamed up with Collections of Colonies of Bees, a post-rock outfit, to create this gorgeous album under the name of Volcano Choir. Vernon's voice is used often more as an instrument than to deliver lyrics, and the music is probably best described as a drifting ethereal version of folk. The songs are gently deconstructed, as with the emphasis very much on ideas being given space to breathe and formulate. It can be achingly beauitful in its construction, and if nothing else, it is manifesto that more than warrants the listen.

2.   Horse Feathers - Thistled Spring
I suppose I have to admit that this album is one of my new rallying cries, as I consider this to be one of the strongest releases of the year so far. Of course, it is extremely difficult to get noticed within the genre of indie-folk - and honourable mention in this regard must go to Will Stratton for his excellent, and criminally neglected, No Wonder. Horse Feathers have been quietly plying their trade for some time now, and although I have listened to a few of their     previous albums, I cannot say that they were ever available to truly capture my imagination. However, Thistled Spring, has profoundly altered my perception of them, as this album reflects a maturity of song-craft that is quite breath-taking. The subtle use of strings, and classical elements gives the sparse folk a brevity that few artists are achieve, and when combined with the artfully written songs, they have created an absolutely fantastic album that is once beautifully melancholic but at times also reverential.

3.   Fang Island - s/t
This is that band that quite a few have been trumpeting over the course of this year. And it is true that they garnered a rave review from Pitchfork and a fair amount of blog buzz. For most listeners, this is largely a put off, as, apart from going against the grain of the indie mentality, it is irritating to have something shoved down your throat. But I have found myself increasingly intrigued by this release, as a unique take on the indie machine. It is a sugar rush of guitars and ideas, a plethora of controlled chaos in a world of creative ADD. One barely has a moment to hear the idea formulated before it is whipped away and replaced with something else. It is rare to hear a band able to fit this many hooks into a song, never mind the almost complete lack of    song structure and linear song-writing. But the songs also have a wide-eyed giddiness, as power chords ring through with gleeful abandon. This is anything but the austerity of jazz influenced indie rock, but rather a fascinating new take on stadium rock, played with all the joy of a pet project that is just too much fun to play without a smile.

4.   Deerhunter - Microcastles
I know it is a cop-out as this release is regarded as one of the seminal indie albums of the past decade. Bradford Cox is now a byword, and anything he releases is greeted with hushed anticipation. I suppose it was inevitable that Deerhunter were building to this release, as evidenced by the excellent Cryptograms, but in Microcastles that Deerhunter truly captured the essence of their alternative dream pop, creating an album that is its own unique world, where the genres of indie and art collide in a dreamy explosion, filled with suble hooks and a sense of constantly grasping towards something even if you're not sure you understand it. There is something alien about this album, at once strange and curious, but then equally inviting, and helplessly intriguing. And, of course, how many artists can include a second disc, supposedly of B-sides, Weird Era Cont., that is almost as good as the principal release?

5.   Asobi Seksu - Citrus
C-86 has had somewhat of a revival in the past year or so, as a number of artists have come through pronouncing their devotion to this original lo-fi format. The Vaselines are back with retrospectives, and new albums, Young Marble Giants get a deluxe reissue and a host of new artists come out brazenly             displaying their love of these artists. So of course, I cannot write this without mentioning the self-titled debut of The Pains of Being Pure At Heart, or the final album by Pants Yell!, entitled Received Pronunciation. The latter, of course, were also the authors of the deliberately titled Alison Stratton, as blatant an a homage as to their loyalties as one can have. Anyway, I know that this is not really a C-86 release, however, personally, this album by Asobi Seksu is the one that really announced the reincarnation of the C-86 aesthetic for me. It marries a slightly more sophisticated notion of the famously amateur idea, within a big flurry of instruments, and something of an other-wordly feel, but whilst also retaining a form of the twee charm. This is a dream-pop album at its heart, even if the band indulges a little along the way.

6. The Gaslight Anthem - The '59 Sound
I am the first to concede that this is not really the sort of album one expects to find within the grimly artistic choices so often associated within the collection of the "true" indie fan. A pop-punk release? Excuse me? But I find myself listening to this album so often that it is probably unhealthy. There is a self-referencing awareness to this band, who trade on working class roots, to create big Springsteen inspired punk. Their world seems mired in 50's inspired characters, as if, somehow, there was something innocent and naive in the oppression of those years. As if we are missing something in the modern world- perhaps a sense of youthful abandon of simpler times- and this is a sense of loss to be mourned. It is almost as if lead singer Brian Fallon longs to be something that he knows he cannot be, and even if he cannot think away the world we live in, he is going to do his utmost to reflect with nostalgic happiness on some imagined time.

7.   Frightened Rabbit - Midnight Organ Fight
It is strange how certain albums just evoke passion within specific listeners. This is one of those albums for me, and although I concede that it may not be one that is going to earn great indie-cred, its mix of acoustic rock songs, combined to solid rhythms, and earnest, heart on your sleeve lyrics, creates an incredibly catchy and memorable release. The Modern Leper is up there amongst the best pop releases in Brit Rock, in my opinion, with the rest of album indulging in similarly upbeat rock displaying folk tendencies. Sadly, it appears that the fame garnered from this release has done the band few favours as the rawness of this album has now been replaced by studio sheen in their most recent album. But they have a long way to go still, and it remains an exciting future if this album is anything to go on.

8.   Yo La Tengo - Popular Songs
I suppose I should admit that I am an unabashed fan of this band, and it seems to me that with the lengthening years in the music industry, they are just growing stronger and stronger. This is the follow up to the triumphant I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass, and with it comes another escape into the realm of Yo La Tengo where influences are bountiful, and music is the only priority. There are flashes of 90's alternative, classic rock, shoe-gaze, noise rock, bossa nova, jazz, its all in there, and more.

9.   Broken Social Scene Presents Kevin Drew - Spirit If...
It vaguely amusing to see that when Broken Social Scene produce a solo album for lead singer Kevin Drew, they succeed only in producing the most quintessential Broken Social Scene album to date. It is our gain, of course, but this indie juggernaut have such a ubiquitous sound that they have suceeded in being the forerunners in the great Canadian indie fleet. There are the cascading levels of sound, the gasping pauses, the melodic interludes, the oft-time jazz atmosphere, the crashing guitars and, of course, the sometime soft intonations of Drew, replete with his distinctive throaty yelp. Of course, the lyrics also show his particular focus in lyrical topics, but all in all, this is logical step from their masterpiece, You Forgot It In People. But, this takes those elements and adds a bit more bounce with the slightly more upbeat tone adopted in their previous self-titled album.

10.   Antlers - Hospice
Admittedly, this is not an album to approach lightly. Any particular investment into the lyrics, displays an album about dying and being ill in hospital. Dreary subject matter, however, there is an amazing clear eyed depiction within this album, with its falsetto voices, and ethereal instrumentation that I cannot help but be drawn to it. The reverb is cranked to the max, and the songs churn and sway, in a way that evokes something of that big sound that Arcade Fire made their own, however Antlers have also been able to retain the intimacy of an artist such as Bon Iver or Grizzly Bear. As a debut album, this one sets quite a mark to be reached.

11.   Free Energy - Stuck On Nothing
This is an easy album to get obsessed with. A review described it as embodying the wide eyed-excitement that made Dazed and Confused such a great film. It is true, the album is a unapologetic homage to 70's rock 'n roll. Thin Lizzy and David Bowie loom large, as this album rollicks from one stadium rocker to the next. This is 70's cock rock at its most beloved peak, with all the jocks in their muscle cars, prowling the streets in search of a good time. Of course, much has happened since the 70's, and Free Energy don't deny it. As a result, there is another element to this release, something of the radio-friendly intonations of the 90's alt-rock movement. It is hard to define, as although this is undeniably 70's rock 'n roll, it isn't quite. But whatever one may think, it is certainly a fun listen.

12.   Bottomless Pit - Hammer of the Gods
This is another album that I have harped on about repeatedly, but it still remains one of my favourite releases, even if many don't agree with me. This band consists of the remaining members of 90's indie stalwarts Silkworm. They have been on the roster of most large indie labels, so this is a group that has more than served its due time. There is something about these bands that have been around for some time, and have perfected their craft through thousands of gigs, and uncounted hours just being in a band. They develop a pathos and brevity that comes across strongly in their music, in the sense that they are so comfortable with what they are doing, but at the same time, not trying to prove anything. This brings to my mind Medications' Completely Removed or the career defining American Gong by Quasi. The latter may be a supergroup, of sorts, but somehow, their albums always seemed to waver between indulgence and clatter. The songs were there, but somehow often became lost in their translation to disc. This is not true of American Gong, and as a display of neo-American college rock, this is right up there. But to get back to Bottomless Pit, this is a band playing 90's college rock but without the angst. Rather, there is a strong sense of sadness, but also a simple pure need to just play the kind of music they love.

13.   Hauschka - Ferndorf
I have never been particularly inclined towards classical music, and although age may have softened my views, I cannot say that I stray much from the meat and potato of rock-influenced music. But this album, together with a mention for Akira Kosemura's Polaroid Piano, was a completely new experience for me. I have become helplessly intrigued by the world of avante-garde pianists. Following in the steps of John Cage, Volker Bertelmann has created an album in homage to his hometown of Ferndorf. His piano generally charts a cyclical rhythm, together with an array of items placed within his piano, to create various pops and clicks, which create the core of each song, but then fleshes each song out with a wealth of string instruments. He treads the line between careful minimalism and full blown orchestration with gorgeous finesse, that this album is truly one to open your eyes to a different musical style.

14.   Cymbals Eat Guitars - Why There Are Mountains
This another of these bands plucked from obscurity to the dizzy heights of vague indie fame. Admittedly, this is not a band that many will trumpet too loudly, but honestly, I believe them to be one of the better exponents of marrying the huge songs made by Built To Spill, towards the more shouting emo-aesthetics of a band such Titus Andronicus. But where the latter band are defined by the boozy depression, rollicking drunkenly from Boss inspired anthems produced in a shed, Cymbals Eat Guitars have sharper, crisper edge to them. The loud soft dynamic is there, together with yelping vocals and the edgy, howling guitars. It is almost as if they were able to distil the vision of Doug Martsch, but without having to rely on his manifest guitars skills, and in    so doing, create their own take on whatever is they happen to find to hold their attention. Its a smorgasbord of ideas, and, perhaps knowingly, a reverential take on any number of indie aesthetics.

15.   Japandroids - Post-Nothing
There is a primal immediacy to two-member bands. The rawness of the early Black Keys was precisely what drew me to their rock 'n roll influenced blues, and I suppose in much the same way, this band holds a fascination for me. They are perhaps the new-wave influenced version of the old blues outfit, riffing off the minimalism of Rhys Chatham, but plugging their way through big fist-pumping anthems. The guitars grinds and throb, whilst the drums are the true heartbeat of each song, pounding and driving the whole album. It just demands to be played loud.

15.   Handsome Furs - Plague Park
The world seems to be somewhat divided on this release. On the one hand, they are so obviously hip to the movements of indie music, that it is hard not to feel some cynical derision towards them. But on the other hand, this is Spencer Krug, part member of the Sub-Pop giants, Wolf Parade. This is a prolfiic songwriter, whose pop sensibilities are, in my opinion, amongst the best in the business. The attraction of this album is the synthetic, minimalist marrying of synths and canned beats, to the straight forward meat and potatoes rock that Krug so adores. Alright, it may not sound the most original concept, but there is a remarkable, and deliberate, restraint to the manner in which each song is constructed. Krug's hooks, delivered with a tension that is         distinct from the urgent paranoia of Wolf Parade, serves to create a really intriguing listen that is rather better than simply being written off as of its time.

17.   Beach House - Teen Dream
This was the band that always promised a great deal, but after the success of their debut album, it seemed that they had succumbed to the fatigue of the second album syndrome, and perhaps had taken their sound as far as it could go. The band was making good albums, but always seemed to be building towards something. Namely, a move on to the Sub-Pop roster, and the release of their third album that revealed the true scope of their vision. This is an extraordinary album, weaving its way through dream landscapes, coloured with gentle synths and their pop aesthetics. The songs almost roll, as opposed to announce themselves, and simple ideas shimmer and drift through the listener's consciousness. They have successfully captured something of the         Northwest indie sound within their largely electronic universe, with the result that they have produced an album well worth all the attention it has garnered.

18.   The Rural Alberta Advantage - Hometowns
It is rare to actually be able to speak of a band that have their success rooted in Internet buzz. The Rural Alberta Advantage, although perhaps, now not the most widely spoken of group, managed a deal with Saddle Creek, who kindly reissued their debut album. Admittedly, this is indie rock of its time, as they exist in a somewhat toned down Arcade Fire type universe. The songs are largely acoustic driven, punctuated by stabbing, and at times urgent, drumming, and subtle production tricks to colour otherwise simple songs. The lyrics are delivered in that uniquely indie sound, something of the shouting, drawl popularised by the legendary Jeff Mangum of Neutral Milk Hotel, but for all the genre signifiers one may find, there is an upbeat aspect that has made this album one of the most durable I have recently encountered.

19.   The Soft Pack - s/t
I am a sucker for this type of music. The Soft Pack, formerly the Muslims, are still rocking their particular brand of retro-garage rock. This would not be wholly out of place in the 60's retro rack, as obvious winks to the Monks and early Kinks are in abundance, never mind any of the other influences one may hear. It is almost with a sigh that one hears another song with the chorus "C'mon" (they will certainly not be the last) but there is a joyful urgency, despite the deadpan drawl that the lyrics are delivered in. In contrast to other garage rock outfits, such as the Detroit Cobras, whose albums, despite only consisting of grimy covers of old R&B tracks, the Soft Pack have smartly allowed for a bit more air to their sound. The traditionally lo-fi genre is polished up, given a studio gloss, in such a way that it never detracts from their overall sound- one that is urgent, breathless and inescapably fun.

20.   The Walkmen - You & Me
Lastly, but certainly not least, one of my all-time favourite artists had to receive a mention. The Walkmen are very much a New-York sounding band, embodying that urban cool that artists such as Interpol and the National are so famous for. I must interject with an honourable mention for the National's High Violet, which is an excellent release, reflecting the growth of the band since the release of Boxer, but also, with due acknowledgement being paid to their prior releases, Alligator and Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers. But the Walkmen have a much worldlier sound, that revolves more around playing with the notion of atmosphere within a song, whilst also retaining the hook aesthetic. There is always something distant about this band, but not in an alienating way. It could be due to their obsession with distinctly vintage elements, but this is in the Walkmen universe that consists of an ever growing palette, replete with organs and horns, and the result that they have created a sound uniquely their own. Somehow, I regard it quintessentially of New York- big, cultured, artistic, and deeply proud. And with the release of their new album, Lisbon, there is another exciting installment in the career of this group to now enjoy.

I'm Watching You...

2010-09-05T08:25:00.000-07:00

The world of today seems to be plagued constantly by the omnipresence of the paternal state, as growing pressure of an increasingly phobic public mounts, and monitorization becomes a byword for life in the 21st Century. It has led to an almost hysterical backlash, from both the State, and the public, one demanding more in the name of the masses, whilst the few desperately, and vainly, point to the growing inroads into privacy. It is not a new problem, as the role and prevalence of the State will always remain a point of hot contention, that for the most part, people also reserve a paradoxical antipathy.

Human fears have long been recognised as a greater motivator, and now, it seems, it can be viewed as such a constant companion that few amongst know what it is not to have some complaint or doomsday speech thrust upon us. Great commerce is made upon insecurities, and perhaps it is a truism to say that, in a distortion of Machievellian dirty hands, to make great wealth, there is never a completely innocent set of hands.

Inequality has long been recognised as a great motivator in social upheaval, and perhaps it is an element of this that has caused the meteroric rise of the realm of popular music. The ability to create a mini-revolution, even if it is only in the sense of a passing fashion, holds great allure, and especially in youthful scenes, it is difficult to miss the excitement, even if the underlying sub-text may be completely misunderstood. If the powers that be are to be believed, we are a generation of consumers, primed to foster some form of guilt - one that is bound to the normal indignance that our habits should be predicated upon the mistakes of the last generation. Pseudo self aware eco-warriors that waiver between complete disinterest and passionate intensity, a generation that has been promised, so they say, a desert wasteland, and a proliferation of premature deafness as reward for over-indulgence. The ease of communication has led to vast social networks, purportedly comprised solely of loneliness, regressing social skills, and the death of language. Nostalgia for a time none could have known is explained away as depression era consolation, and we are plagued by the marketing machine, a by-product of the everyday working world, and the need for all to collect a pay cheque. In fact, it is rather amusing to see psychological debate as to whether we are now in the midst of a generation that is breaking established psychological principals through an ability to mature and become self sufficient.

It is a trusim to say that it is always easier to point to flaws than the positive elements. A vast fortune of self-help is styled upon this very basic thought - think good things, and good things will happen to you. Over-analysis, and pseudo-intellectual thought are desperately prevalent, and I do not excuse myself from this pitfall. But it must rankle ever so slightly to be given trite observation as prophecy, and moreover, to led by the nose, to the glorification of the truly banal. I do not know whether we find ourselves at a crisis point in the world, personally, I do not think so, but given the right mindset, it is easy to quote the words of WB Yeats:

"Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

But where much horror and disaster is promised, it is easy to overlook the permanent in favour of the temporary. In the words of the Drive-By Truckers "Rock 'n Roll means well, but it can't help telling young boys lies". In the fluctuating realm of fashion, each decade seems to provide some new popular notion for the world to adopt, and which social mores demand devout observance. Ironically, of course, each "new" fashion is often only a subtly updated version of a previous incarnation, as we saw 70's fashion make a resurgence of few years ago, albeit with a slight "supposed" Noughties twist. Currently, the horrid prevalence of the 80's is defined by all those nostalgic for the youthful promise that the era, allegedly, held. It is a glorification of the plastic, bedecked with a chorus of desperately silly songs, awful dances and blindness inducing fashions. But then again, the eloquent Mr. Litt does make some valid points in his piece "The 80's: the best of times, the worst of times", which I must grudgingly acknowledge, even if I am going not going to quote anything due to its conclusion being incompatible with my blind hatred of almost all the music to emerge from this era.

This is not to say that we should all be politicians, or hippy vegans, decrying the establishments and demanding a "green" makeover of the world. We will always need these people, but uniformity would be a far more dangerous, and harmful, than the alternative. But then I am inclined strongly to awareness as far preferable to blind observation. The question then becomes, as with most things, as the role and extent of possible future regret arising from present choices. I do not intend to draw any negative connotations, so I ask only the neutral question - We are all young once, but it remains to each person to decide whether they always wish to be reminded of that. To take a very simple example, consider the youthful tattoo that always accompanied by at least one warning that it will form the basis for regret. But then, can one truly say that the youthful mark will not mean as much on older skin? One cannot always say that it won't, and to draw this out into the great complaint that each prior generation makes that the subsequent has an increased lack of empathy and degraded of morals (which is usually an empty and groundless observation), there is a great capacity amongst people to disagree. The contradictions and confusion that define life are so numerous that one cannot be blamed for wishing to avoid thinking about it in the first place. It may be a reactionary and inert tactic, but it is a well worn response, even if, in hindsight, it may be deplorable.

Hindsight is always a cruel mistress, as it is easy to see an answer after events have unfolded. For those amongst us wishing to wear their hearts on their sleeve, perhaps it is a reminder to enjoy oneself before wiser heads are said to prevail. Or the bitterness strikes, as the more cyncial amongst us would eagerly point out. We live in a world of contradictions, and although it is easy to become wrapped up in a scene, the tattoo that is so readily accepted amongst a peer group may still frowned upon in the professional world, even if youthful bravado can make revolutionaries of us all.

But the fear can be encapsulated in the words of the Gaslight Anthem "So don't sing me your songs about the good times, those days are gone and you should just let them go. And God help the man who says you if you'd have known me when. Old haunts are for forgotten ghosts". We all hope that there is some Che Guevara in us, the unrepentant desire to fight on, even if there is the lurking suspicion that there may also be some Fidel Castro, in that having achieved the initial goal, the pure idealism becomes slowly eroded, and the desire to fight seeps away. Time does make fools of us all, but then, with that knowledge, it can hardly be a reason to detract from the original idea, given. hopefully, reasoned intentions. Many amongst us are compelled to rage against the conservative world, even if they far outweigh the alternatively suited.

Regret is a complex notion, and one would be a fool to theorise a world in which people do not make mistakes. Old heads cannot always dictate, even if they wish they could. "I wish that I knew what I know now when I was younger". Perhaps, with due respect to Mr. Wood, but then, is it not highly probable that where one has turned out rather differently, in that alternative world, that there would still have not remain a slight tinge as to how things may have been. Regret is a tiresome exercise in futility, unless the opportunity arises to remedy the original error.

I am aware that I tread perilously towards an explanation of the fluttering of butterfly wings, and a treatise along these lines seems to lead inescapably into an exercise into madness. The thought crosses my mind whether one can do away with regret without sacrificing the notion of a conscience, and if it cannot, then whether regret is integrally bound into our notion of self. But to step away from this line of thought, I am intrigued by the question by the point at which each person is able to distinguish a temporary notion from a permanent one. It is a realisation that many may instinctively shy away from, although perhaps this only reveals my age, if the writings of Jeffrey Arnett are to be believed. It may also indicate that each generation is perhaps not as distinct from the previous one, even if the challenges each faces is profoundly different over the course of the intervening years.

Ultimately, in the words of Mr. Tweedy:

"There's a party there that we oughtta go to,

If you still love rock 'n roll,

Do you still love rock 'n roll?",

One can only hope to be able to give an honest answer.

Mix 09 - 2010

2010-09-05T08:05:00.000-07:00

The Walkmen - On The Water (You & Me : Gigantic, 2008)
The Manhattan Love Suicides - Indian Summer (Manhattan Love Suicides : Magic Marker, 2006)
Les Savy Fav- Appetites (Root For Ruin : Frenchkiss, 2010)
Magneta Lane - Wild Gardens (Dancing With Dangers : Paper Bag, 2006)
Tokyo Police Club - Favourite Colour (Champ : Mom & Pop, 2010)
Arcade Fire - Ready To Start (The Suburbs : Merge, 2010)
The 88 - All The Same (Kind Of Light : Mootron Records, 2003)
The Detroit Cobras - I Wanna Holler (Baby : Bloodshot Records, 2005)
Best Coast - Crazy For You (Crazy For You : Mexican Summer, 2010)
The Black Keys - Next Girl (Brothers : Nonesuch, 2010)
Endless Boogie - Smoking Figs In The Yard (Focus Level : No Quarter, 2008)
Blue Giant - Wesley (Blue Giant : Vanguard, 2010)
Lower Dens - Two Cocks (Twin-Hand Movement : Gnomonsong, 2010)
Department Of Eagles - Brightest Minds (Archives 2003 - 2006 : American Dust, 2010)
Menomena - TAOS (Mines : Barsuk, 2010)
TV On The Radio - A Method (Return To Cookie Mountain : Interscope Records, 2006)
Frazey Ford - Bird Of Paradise (Obadiah : Nettwerk, 2010)
Cloud Cult - Transistor Radio (Advice From The Happy Hippopotamus : Earthology/Baria, 2005)
My Morning Jacket - Just One Thing (It Still Moves : ATO, 2003)
Tim Cohen - Oh, Oh, Oh (Laugh Tracks : Captured Tracks, 2010)
Something Corporate - Miss America (North : Cambria Records, 2003)

Drunken Barn Dance - A promotional!

2010-09-05T07:41:00.000-07:00

I recently had this band thrust upon me, as these things happen in the world of the online musical marketing. This is inevitably a mixed bag, often as disappointing as a garage "lucky packet", which to the youthful mind seems to promise great riches, and only contains cheap sweets and some plastic toy unlikely to survive a moment of amusement, let alone the car journey. However, I have to admit to a lingering soft spot for Saturday Looks Good To Me, and so I could not resist investigating Drunken Barn Dance. It is quite hard, in my opinion, to get much of a grasp of a band from the odd snippet or streamed song (but then perhaps I am just old fashioned), and certainly, I am not entirely convinced on the name, but I have to admit to being quite taken with the single A Winter's Tale, off their sophomore release Grey Buried, which has just been released.

And, for a change, it seems to me as if their press corp has actually been rather accurate and lucid on the description of their sound. It is ramshackle, Neil Young country-rock, tinged with drunken behaviour, and a shaggy charm. But then I wouldn't take my word for it, and I encourage you to have a look at their blog or their myspace.

Mix Tape 08 - 2010

2010-08-01T02:25:00.000-07:00

Jose Gonzelez - Lovestain (Veneer : Mute U.S., 2006)
The Gaslight Anthem - Bring It On (American Slang : Sideonedummy, 2010)
Tokyo Police Club - End Of The Spark (Champ : Mom & Pop, 2010)
Wavves - King Of The Beach (King Of The Beach : Fat Possum, 2010)
The Starlight Mints - Brass Digger (Built On Squares : Play It Again Sam, 2003)
The Love Language - Lalita (The Love Language : Bladen County, 2009)
Slow Club - It Doesn't Have To Be Beautiful, Unless It's Beautiful (Yeah, So? : Moshi Moshi, 2009)
Allo Darlin' - My Heart Is A Drummer (Allo Darlin' : Fortuna Pop!, 2010)
Treetop Flyers - It's About Time (To Bury The Past EP - available for purchase here)
Yo La Tengo - Tom Courtenay (Prisoners of Love : A Smattering of Scintillating Senescent Songs 1985 - 2003 : Matador, 2005)
Junip - Far Away (Rope & Summit EP - available free from their website)
Male Bonding - Franklin (Nothing Hurts : Sub Pop, 2010)
Dead Confederate - Giving It All Away (Sugar : TAO Recordings/Old Flame, 2010 - song available free here)
Darker My Love - Split Minute (Alive As You Are : Dangerbird Records, 2010 - song available free here)
Drunken Barn Dance - A Winter's Tale (Grey Buried : Quite Scientific Records, 2010 - song available free here)
David Karstens Daniels & Fight The Big Bull - Though All The Fates (I Mean To Live Here Still : Fat Cat, 2010)
The Jayhawks - What Led Me To This Town (Music From The North Country : Jayhawks Anthology : Sony Legacy, 2009)
Meursault - Another (All Creatures Will Make Merry : Song, By Toad, 2010)
Milagres - Sheet Stealer! (Seven Summits - album streaming here)
Adam Haworth Stephens - The Cities That You've Burned (We Live On Cliffs : Saddle Creek, 2010 - song available free here)
Mountain Man - How'm I Doin (Made The Harbor : Bella/Union, 2010)

Mid-year talks and Anticipation of the Next

2010-08-01T01:55:00.000-07:00

I must concede that I have harped on about this sort of thing before, and although repetition may be preserve of the old, I take consolation in the thought that many of us have our pet theories, or notions that one is compelled to share. Even if this is to the detriment of the speaker, not that this speaker has ever been one to pay much heed to such things. But for me, I always look on with some dread to end of June and July, those months marking the mid-year, and the exciting chill of winter is beginning to wear thin, and; the cold morning dark marks only exhaustion and an exercise in willpower.

This may be a whinge from the Southern Hemisphere, as, of course, we know nothing of the extreme cold of the North, and for the most part, see little of snow, or other such things. Having said this, ours is a certain type of cold, and one which can often take one unawares, perhaps simply because it simply not anticipated. But, enough of this talk of the weather, as little less is of interest than such dullard speak. But, as an aside, I was highly entertained to read extracts from the early Americans (Benjamin Franklin amongst them) in which they bemoan that each progressive winter has been warmer than the last, attributable, in their opinion, to agriculture and human habitation. It gives one cause to think, whilst there may be truth, it is also a reflection on the human mind, and its tricks and foibles.

I have recently been bemoaning the lack of interesting releases to come forth - but, to interject, I fully admit to the petulance of a child, as I attribute my own sense of fatigue to other avenues, and I am very against this notion that we should expect artists to be walking karaoke machines, spewing forth songs every month or so. Artists must release as and when they are able to, as already we are asking much from punishing touring schedules, and as demanding fans, we seem to misunderstand how unique the creative process is. I shall mention no more of this, although, any indie artists that could find your way out into this part of the world - Australia is further to go - it would be greatly appreciated. With the furor of the World Cup departing our shores, this land is ripe for further international influx.

Admittedly, my blatant lack of focus is something of another present condition, but I have recently struggled to raise much enthusiasm for indie music of late. There was little being released that sparked much within me, and I found myself repetitively playing items that I could not really muster much interest for. And yet, for all these tarnished passions, it takes only one or two releases for a new momentum. I realise how dull it may be to refer to such things, but the new Broken Social Scene and the National were such albums for me. Admittedly, I am long time fans of both these bands, and I am always excited to hear of new work from either of them. But, I can hear the criticism now: where is my cutting edge verve, and ability to uncover the next big thing? The National are now "victims" of teen tv series and adulation that extends beyond the indie community. "Our lost sons". It is nonsense, as the debate rages on as to what a band "should" and "should not" do in the pursuit of their career.

As one should already be able to tell, I am completely in favour of bands doing whatever comes across their path, as how can it ever be a bad thing for a band to be promoted and get paid for it? I do not subscribe to the idea that indie fans should be entitled to ownership of the music - the hidden gem that is kept in the back of broom cupboard and let out only to some "select" few. Indie music is a niche market already, and it is nonsensical to further reduce the scene by evoking some sort of air of exclusivity. The National are one of my favourite bands, and even though I am aware that whatever remains of my paltry contributions is negligible by the time it reaches them, I am delighted that they have managed to remove themselves from the humdrum of a dayjob, all to pursue the production of such great music. And I scarcely need even mention Broken Social Scene, considering the juggernaut that they have now become.

But with this excitement, comes new gifts, as new albums, perhaps overlooked, or hastily discarded, warrant another listen. And there are other exciting releases, my absolute favourite of which has been the new album by Horse Feathers- Thistled Spring. It is a gorgeous, string drenched folk album, that stirs in me something like hearing Bon Iver for the first time. This is a beautiful, fragile album, that is, at the same time, bold and artfully crafted. It is one of my favourite releases of the year so far, and I cannot stop listening to it. And now, I start to pull out old favourites, bathing in the pure enjoyment from a beloved album, even if it is bittersweet, as I hear my adored copy of Weezer Blue, and bemoan what the band have become. I am an avowedly devout Wilco fan, although I have struggled to reignite my love for them in their last two albums (and their most recent has not been assisted by the most ridiculous price tag I have yet seen for a new album - a steal at over $49 / R380!) but, as I write this, the breezy 70's happiness of Sky Blue Sky, is suddenly starting to make sense, and once again, I am acutely aware as to why I am such a big fan of this band. And the words of Bill Fay rattle around my head, making me think of the cruelty of the music industry, with a soothsayer so blithely cast aside.

There are others worth a mention, such as the new Junip EP, revealing another very exciting side to Jose Gonzalez (and available for free from his website), or the new release by my own little indulgence, the Gaslight Anthem. I admit that they are not the sort of band for everyone, nor are they going to be hipster fodder, but their blend of pop-punk and nostalgia is something that has always been a guilty pleasure to me. So there is once again much to speak of, and all is perhaps not unwell in the world of indie. There may be some worrying signs upon the horizon, such as this fixation on the 80's that I am yet to even begin to fathom, but I take comfort that the world of indie is a large one, more than capable of subsuming many of the stylistic tics that pass and fade over time.

Speaking of interesting things, I was intrigued to read a piece on the Freegans in the New York Times. It brought to mind the travelling minstrals, and the sort of harshness that is necessarily involved in such enterprises. The failed communes of the Sixties, although, admittedly, this is not to say that they did not, and cannot, work. Or the communal musicians of the 70's in the UK, or current artists such as Deleted Scenes. In my fug of late, I have even struggled to locate intriguing reading material, a very trying state of affairs, as the promise of a full work day with little hope of distraction is an astonishingly depressing thought. I was recently speaking to a friend on such alternative lifestyle choices, and I was encouraged to go and find out for myself. I am far too set in my ways - how would I fund my expensive musical indulgences otherwise? - but this is not to say that one cannot have questions. I take great solace in questions, as at least it allows me the comfort of knowing that I am awake, and curious. Or possibly just curious...haphazardly.

And yet, I see now a new column being posted called "Ask the Indie Professor"and whilst the premise seems quite interesting, it is also quite depressing to see the petulant arguments being bandied about. It seems to me that the central problem is that there is very little consensus on what indie is. There are some wise heads posting their views, and, rightly, pointing out that the notion of "cool", as it is commonly understood, has very little to do with anything at all. But, and I think this is a valid question, if you consider yourself to be a fan of indie music, does one have to draw a line in the sand as to what one will and will not listen to? The fact that it is not "cool" to listen to the National, or that one loathes shoegaze, translates to a sneer and a self-consoling immersion into noise-rock, or avante-garde twiddling? I happen to like all of it, given the right moment, or mood, but then that is me. I am happily amongst those bemoaning the lack of ingenuity of popular radio, and as a frivilous pastime, it is one that can be highly entertaining. But, in truth, I am sad only that almost without exception, these songs can mean so little to me. Music is great in that people can know what they like, and I am certainly amongst them, but at the same time, if one is a true fan of music, popularity should irrelevant. And yet, I find that much of current popular music stirs very little in me, and for the most part, I cannot even really muster the strength to care. And that is something that deeply saddens me.

It could yet be, on the strength of the comments posted on "Ask the Indie Professor" that we are in fact mired in a crisis for indie, in the sense that we no longer know what that means. No-one is ever a "hipster" or a "scenester" because they are worthly only of derision, and yet could it be that the statement smacks of the paradox of the metal kids proclaiming anarachy and yet dressing the same? It is a scenario of "that only ever happens to other people, never to me". Indie kids seem to often only be identifiable only by the plethora of flannel, skinny jeans or whatever else it happens to be, and yet, there remains a crisis of constitution. They know not what they proclaim, as there are those close followers of the "mainstream" indie, who suffer derision from those who demand the obscure. The irony, of course, that in the event of the obscure becoming known, form dictates that it be discarded and people should move on. With certain "indie" fads now starting up, there is a rallying cry, once more, for the weird to make a return - demanding, for example, the return of angular guitars, difficult timings, and innovative elocution. The Bright Eyes circa his bedroom and tapes, as opposed to the extremely polished country rock of Conor Oberst and his Mystic Valley Band. Surely the question is only what you like, without the trappings and derision of those around you? But then, that is a serious matter of discussion as to how one divorces taste from the judgment of the group.

Perhaps it will take the fall, as with all things that ebb and flow in culture, to allow people to start to move once again away from the scene, and back to the music. Indie kids may be just desperately clinging to the traditional air of exclusivity at the moment, trying only to mark their territory by bemoaning the lack of airplay or exposure, and yet deriding those that have become successful. And yet, they needn't worry really, as the true indie fans are just fans of music really. There is an immersion in knowledge that immediately marks the members of the club. They are, and remain, an exclusive group. Of course, we can become embroiled in an argument as to how much one should know, but, personally, does the answer lie only in as to how curious a person is? If the person does not know a huge amount, but is eager to learn, and wants to find out, surely that marks one of the brethren? But therein lies the exclusivity rub, and the arrogance often, sadly, associated therewith.

Special Edition : Scottish Mix

2010-08-01T01:44:00.000-07:00

There are some distinctly exciting times to look forward to when the opportunity arises to visit what is, without question, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Admittedly, some will say that the height of the Scottish explosion has past with end of the C-86 era. But then again, the indie twee movement has made a modern resurgence, and the Fat Cat acts are once again creating some buzz for Scottish artists. But when music is infused with uisge beatha, there is little one can do but bask in the beauty and indescribable emotions that a place can evoke. So whilst the overwhelming majority of artists featured on this mix are from Glasgow, I hope I have been able to impart even the tiniest fraction of Scotland. It is a land of harsh cold, disparate regions, and yet of overwhelming beauty, and sense of history. It is a place that a person can never forget, or remain unaffected by.

So bon voyage, and you are entreated to allow me to live vicariously!

Mogwai - Yes! I Am A Long Way From Home (Young Team : Jet Set Records, 1997)
The Twilight Sad - Interrupted (Forget The Night Ahead : Fat Cat, 2009)
We Were Promised Jetpacks - An Almighty Thud (Daytrotter Session 30/06/2010 : available at Daytrotter)
Idlewild - Stay The Same (The Remote Part : Parlophone, 2002)
Travis - Good Day To Die (Good Feeling : Inder, 1997)
Frightened Rabbit - I Feel Better (Midnight Organ Fight : Fat Cat, 2008)
Belle & Sebastian - Another Sunny Day (The Life Pursuit : Matador, 2006)
Del Amitri - Roll To Me (Twisted : A & M, 1995)
Camera Obscura - Swans (My Maudlin Career : 4AD, 2009)
The Beta Band - Dry The Rain (The 3 EP's : Astralwerks, 1998)
Primal Scream - Movin' On Up (Screamadelica : Sire/London/Rhino, 1991)
The Pastels - Rough Riders (Illumination : Up., 1997)
Orange Juice - Untitled Melody (You Can't Hide Your Love Forever : Polg, 1982)
The Shop Assistants - Caledonia Rd. (Will Anything Happen : Blue Guitar, 1986)
The Vaselines - Oliver Twisted (Enter The Vaselines : Sub Pop, 2009)
Meursault - Weather (All Creatures Will Make Merry : Song, By Toad, 2010)
Frightened Rabbit - Floating In The Forth (Midnight Organ Fight : Fat Cat, 2008)

Mixtape 07 - 2010

2010-07-10T04:07:00.000-07:00

The Black Keys - Howlin' For You (Brothers : Nonesuch, 2010)
Unnatural Helpers - I Don't Belong To You (Cracked Love & Other Drugs : Hardly Art, 2010)
Ted Leo & the Pharmacists - Bridges, Squares (Hearts Of Oak : Lookout!, 2003)
Broken Social Scene - Texico Bitches (Forgiveness Rock Record : Arts & Crafts, 2010)
Wye Oak - Emmylou (My Neighbour / My Creator EP : Merge, 2010)
The Gaslight Anthem - The Diamond Church Street Choir (American Slang : SideOneDummy, 2010)
Medications - Long Day (Completely Removed : Dischord, 2010)
The National - Anyone's Ghost (High Violet : 4AD, 2010)
Avi Buffalo - Remember Last Time (Avi Buffalo : Sub Pop, 2010)
Allo Darlin' - Kiss Your Lips (Allo Darlin' : Fortuna Pop! : 2010)
Little Feat with Bela Fleck - The Weight (Join The Band : 429 Records, 2008)
Marah - For The Price Of A Song (Lets Cut The Crap And Hook Up Later On Tonight : Phidelity, 2004)
Flogging Molly - The Ol' Beggars Bush (Swagger: SideOneDummy, 2000)
Drive-By Truckers - The Living Bubba (Gangstabilly : Soul Dump, 1998)
Wilco - What Light (Sky Blue Sky : Nonesuch, 2007)
Horse Feathers - Belly Of June (Thistled Spring : Kill Rockstars, 2010)
Phosphorescent - I Don't Care If There's Cursing (Here's To Taking It Easy : Dead Oceans, 2010)
Blitzen Trapper - The Tailor (Destroyer Of The Void : Sub-Pop, 2010)
The Mynabirds - Good Heart (What Was Lost In The Fire, We Gained In The Flood : Saddle Creek, 2010)

Mix Tape 06 - 2010

2010-06-12T03:50:00.000-07:00

Akira Kosemura - Tale (Polaroid Piano : Someone Good, 2009)
Fang Island - Sideswiper (Fang Island : Sargent House, 2010)
Fire Through The Window - FTTW (Hey! : Sheer Sound, 2009)
Free Energy - Bang Pop (Stuck On Nothing : Astralwerks / DFA, 2010)
Harlem - Friendly Ghost (Hippies : Matador, 2010)
Oranger - Mister Sandman (Stubbs The Zombie : The Soundtrack : Shout Factory, 2005)
Drive-By Truckers - Get Downtown (The Big To-Do : ATO, 2010)
The Reigning Sound - When You Touch Me (Too Much Guitar : In The Red, 2004)
Archie Bronson Outfit - Cherry Lips (Derdang Derdang : Domino, 2006)
The Hold Steady - Soft In The Centre (Heaven Is Whenever : Rough Trade/Vagrant, 2010)
The Who - I've Had Enough (Quadrophenia : MCA, 1973)
Sugar - If I Can't Change Your Mind (Copper Blue : Rykodisc, 1992)
The Deadly Syndrome - Emily Paints (The Ortolan : Dim Mak, 2007)
Desmond & the Tutus - Kiss You On The Cheek (Tuckshop : Awesomeland, 2008)
The Rural Alberta Advantage - The Air (Hometowns : Saddle Creek, 2009)
Treetop Flyers - Rose Is In The Yard (To Bury The Past EP : Available at http://treetopflyers.co.uk/)
Viva Voce - The Slow Fade (Get Yr Blood Sucked Out: Barsuk, 2006)
Sam Amidon - How Come That Blood (I See The Sign : Bedroom Community, 2010)
Damhnait Doyle - I Want You To Want Me (Lights Down Low: turtlemusik, 2008)
Roadside Graves - My Father Sat Me Down (My Son's Home : Autumn Tone, 2009)
Jack Rose - Lick Mountain Ramble (Luck In The Valley : Thrill Jockey, 2010)
The Mynabirds - We Made A Mountain (What We Lost In The Fire, We Gain In The Flood : Saddle Creek, 2010)

Graffiti Art

2010-06-12T03:18:00.000-07:00

There appears to be a severe shortcoming that affects those inclined to this habit of recording thoughts in the sense that I find myself obsessing devoutly over the same topics incessantly. The exercise can alternate between fruition and despair, and yet, this is not to necessarily make for an interesting read, and it is for that reason that I choose to skirt many issues, or at least clothe them in some other guise sufficient to mollify my dwindling audience.

I was reading a selection of short stories by Voltaire recently, and despite the (likely accurate) thoughts that are probably revolving in your heads, I found myself trying to put some coherence to my curiousity for these ancient texts and their transcendence of time. Admittedly, the stories themselves can often be extremely simplistic and if one takes Candide, or Micromegas, there are no twists, plot lines, or character development, as these would be fat, serving only to hinder and detract from the sole purpose which is that of simple story-telling. The character did this, and this is what happened. It is for this very reason that they make such compelling reading, as they rely more upon an amalgam of philosophy, common sense, and a manner of life that seems foreign to us now.

And yet, not so far-removed that we cannot recognise the situations and conundrums that they are often confronted with. The circumstances are far removed from our own, and yet the observations, and the reactions are so familiar as if to mirror our own distress, musings and general confusion that accompanies much of what we do in our every day lives. I constantly think back to my visit to Maeshowe in the Orkneys, where Viking graffiti scatters the walls, providing such simple epithets as "Thorfinn wrote these runes" or "Ingigerd is the most beautiful of women". Take the expression away, and they are hardly removed from the equally inane statements studiously carved into school desks around the world over time immemorial. Boredom can make artists of us all, even if the platitudes and cliches are possibly better kept to ourselves, but one has to be intrigued that the passage of time has done so little to this need to leave something behind, even if it is done carelessly, and with little consideration to the item being defaced.

There comes a point for many of us that listen to a lot of music where people can become trapped in the whirling plethora of references and opinions that seem to dominate so much of the industry today. This band sounds like this - any one want to count the number of Radiohead references that people seem to be able to find everywhere? - and so place it in your rolodex under [insert genre here]. It is an understandable method to decoding the explosion of information that seems to confront us today, as it is ridiculously easy to become lost. There are just too many bands, and I well know how many are just put off before they can find some entry into this scene. Hunting for rough diamonds in the wilderness might be fun, but sometimes the work is really not worth it. Easier not to start - and one can ask any of the number of botched attempts at romance as to their opinion on this. It would be easier to rely on the vicarious enjoyment of a romantic comedy, than go through the potential disappointment of the real thing.

In the world of music, there is that constant tension between the old and the new. People desire a new sound, the new hit, but conversely in doing, so demand the familiar in order to meet these criteria. I have long been intrigued by the fascination that we seem to have for the ancient arts - such as writing and music- as they seem to be so fundamentally written into our DNA, and yet we strut in our pomp and feathers, making Gods and devoting our lives to them, with very little understanding incurred. Certainly, technology and social mores will have their impact on both, and yet one cannot say that at their core, they are really profoundly so different. The birth of rock 'n roll, that was the atomic bomb to our very notion of a generation, was hardly far removed from much of what was already being played. Yet, invested in the right context, and suddenly it became a movement, the reverberations of which we are still trying to decipher. And truly, each decade had its own innovation, much of which was profoundly different from what came before (at least, to start with, and in reference solely to genre definition), and yet there always remained that core that we looked to. I suppose the question is, can one deconstruct music to something nonsensical to our ears? Of course we can, but then the notion of music becomes blurred, and one becomes embroiled in a serious discussion as to what "music" even is.

I must allow, however, for the criticism that I am often blinded by my own musical leanings to be able to properly make this point. There are many albums in my collection that strike such a profound chord to me, and yet, played to another, there is a complete lack of empathy or understanding. And I mean this in the sense that the whole style is something foreign and hence strange. I will never forget buying Okkervil River's The Stage Names and Spoon's Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, at the same time, and being told that the "Spoon is great, but that Okkervil River is very strange music". I admit, I don't understand it, as in my lexicon, these are two of my favourite bands, and although they are dissimilar, it is not to the extent that the one should not vaguely translate to the other.

So is the point then simply that music is entirely dependant upon its presentation, as opposed to any core structure? I suppose the point is fairly made, as many of us have become so accustomed to Verse - Chorus - Verse paradigm, and the Pentatonic, that we need not know anything about it, to be able to recognise it, and hum along to it. It is always the mark of a "mega" hit, when people can sing along the first time that they hear it. Of course, these seem to be marked by a move towards deconstruction, as opposed to any notion of complexity, as the present hits seem to be the brainchild of the tribal rhythms so predominant in much of popular music today. It is not a critcism, as all will know that I am certainly not one to advocate that we should all be listening to heavy classical music, or attempt to unravel the convolutions of jazz.

I suppose the consideration as to the contradictions that we all seem to face in our every day, as there are few things so divisive as music, and yet it embraces such a fundamental part of human nature as to touch at our notion of self, even if we don't want to think about it. This may be too simplistic, as it might be said that the importance lies in the presentation, and not necessarily in the core elements. The R&B fan is unlikely to listen to metal, nor should the folkie have 80's electo-pop inflicted on him. Perhaps, but that is just another contradiction, as how can only certain music just make sense, whilst the rest remains in the void of noise. I suppose I lead myself down the road to a discussion of culture, and nature vs nurture. We value the ideas and connotations that we associate with music, as opposed to the music itself. For many, what they are listening may be irrelevant beyond the need to dance, drink, or wallow in nostalgia, and thus one can become involved in the notion of music as only a trigger to the human brain. I don't believe that but then I can think that it might be nice to be able to call up Levi-Strauss and see if the afterlife has any insights.

Mix-Tape 05 - 2010

2010-05-23T06:10:00.000-07:00

Fang Island - Life Coach (Fang Island : Sargent House : 2010)
Los Campesinos! - Straight In At 101 (Romance Is Boring : Arts & Crafts, 2010)
Fire Through The Window - Do Do Do (Hey! : Sheer
Stricken City Five - Metres Apart (Songs About People I Know : Kora, 2009)
Free Energy - Dream City (Stuck On Nothing : Astralwerks/DFA, 2010)
Quasi - Rockabilly Party (American Gong : Kill Rock Stars, 2010)
Viva Voce - Faster Than A Dead Horse (Get Yr Blood Sucked Out : Barsuk, 2006)
Phoenix - Girlfriend (Live In Sydney EP : Available at http://www.wearephoenix.com/observer)
Surfer Blood - Floating Vibes (Astro Coast : Kanine, 2010)
Slow Club - Giving Up On Love (Yeah So : Moshi Moshi, 2009)
She & Him - In The Sun (Volume Two : Merge, 2010)
Flogging Molly - The Worst Day Since Yesterday (Swagger : Side One Dummy, 2000)
Local Natives - Who Knows Who Cares (Gorilla Manor : Frenchkiss, 2010)
Jeff Bridges - Hold On You (Crazy Heart : Original Motion Picture Soundtrack : New West, 2010)
Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit - The Last Song I Will Write (Daytrotter Session : Available at www.daytrotter.com)
Kath Bloom - Such A Tease (Thin Thin Line : Calo Verde, 2010)
The Last Town Chorus - Wintering In Brooklyn (Wire Waltz : Hacktone Records, 2007)
Citay - Fortunate Son (Dream Get Together : Dead Oceans, 2010
Drive-By Truckers - Birthday Boy (The Big To-Do : ATO, 2010)

Mix-Tape 05 - 2010 (Bonus)

2010-05-23T05:54:00.000-07:00

Linfintity - Choo Choo Train To Venice (Martian's Bloom : American Myth Recordings, 2010)
The Heavy - Cause For Alarm (The House That Dirt Built : Counter Records, 2009)
Pete and the Pirates - Mr. Understanding (Little Death : Stolen Recordings, 2008)
Pretty Blue Guns - A Call To Arms (Cutting Heads : De Plate Kompanjie, 2009)
Happy Birthday - Girls FM (Happy Birthday : Sub-Pop, 2010)
The Black Keys - I'll Be Your Man (The Big Come-Up : Alive Records, 2002)
Ryan Bingham - Bread And Water (Mescalito : Lost Highway Records, 2007)
Deadly Syndrome - Wingwalker (Nolens Volens : Deadly Syndrome, 2010)
Morning Benders - Hand Me Downs (Big Echo : Rough Trade, 2010)
The Receiver - Intervals (Length Of Arms : Vital Music Records, LLC, 2009)
Shearwater - Landscape At Speed (The Golden Archipelago : Matador, 2010)
The xx - Heart Skipped A Beat (The xx : Young Turks, 2009)
Califone - Dime Fangs (Sometimes Good Weather Follows Bad People : Road Cone, 2002)
Alex Bleeker and The Freaks - Animal Tracks (Alex Bleeker and the Freaks : Underwater Peoples, 2009)
Bonnie "Prince" Billy & The Cairo Gang - The Sounds Are Always Begging (The Wonder Show Of The World : Drag City, 2010)
Will Stratton - Sonnet (What The Night Said : Stunning Models On Display, 2007)
Okkervil River - Dead Faces (Down The River Of Golden Dreams : Jagjaguwar, 2003)
The Soft Pack - C'mon (The Soft Pack : Kemado, 2010)
Ted Leo & The Pharmacists - Even Heroes Have To Die (The Brutalist Bricks : Matador, 2010)
Drive-By Truckers - You Got Another (The Big To-Do : ATO, 2010)

The new, old, and all that is in-between

2010-05-23T05:35:00.000-07:00

The all too rare moments of lucidity share many qualities with that of a slow drip percolator. E-mails flash constantly on my screen, and car alarms whistle outside my window, and I seem to have succumbed to that general malaise of the mid-year (-ish), in which insight seems to be an elusive companion. We sit amidst the racial mutterings of our delightfully entertaining politicians, spouting rhetoric for both the right and left dependant on whomever happens to be listening, and the grumbling of the Americans as an environmental disaster that "could have been prevented" oozes towards their shorelines. It is astonishing how often there appears to be an answer available long before the question was asked, but which was not quite prevalent at the necessary time. And honourable mention must go to the damp squib that is the British political system, which, to quote Pete Townshend, constitutes another circus of "Meet the new boss, the same as the old boss". A gloriously astute remark, and one which is far more dese
rving of him than the regretful, "I hope I die before I get old".

In a quite apt turn of events, then, a song off the new Ted Leo & the Pharmacists album, The Brutalist Bricks, piqued my interest:
              Well, didn't you look sharp with your boots
              When you met me on the path?
              From Two-Tone to Downtown Beirut, but only half-way back
              Stealing bits of wisdom from the shelf
              Turned prisons to prisms on the self
              And what do they know about the springtime of me and you
              Born in the midst of the long hot summer we lived through?
              Did they see you run for every rhyme?
              Did we run for running out of time?

             When even heroes have to die,
             No one lives forever, Love
             No one's wise to try

             Adding our own wisdom to the shelf
             And stealing bits of paper, we had health
             But working away, did we miss the passing of the time?\line
             In your own flame you can wither, through your passions still outshine

             And did you read the writing on the wall?
             Prophesying a doom upon us all
             That even heroes have to die,
             No one lives forever, Love
             No one's wise to try
             But hidden in the writing on the wall
             Many are the beauties of the fall

It is a mark of a good song which is able to reveal a myriad of possible meaning, such as to evoke a response across history, experience and emotion. In a further turn of events, I found myself watching Hackers, which constituted an easy excuse for an indulgence in nostalgia, for those that may remember it. Shockingly, and perhaps, unsurprisingly, this constitutes a horridly dated artifact. The obvious problems that are presented by displaying "cutting edge" technology to a future audience are prominent - "It's six times faster than a Pentium" - but beyond this, it reflected all those hallmarks of the early to mid-90's. A curious display of manga inspired fashion, combined with charity shop ingenuity, and all of the angst and paranoia that was so proudly instilled within the many youths. It was so much of it's time that it cannot do anything other than remain there. A cruel criticism, perhaps, but where I became intrigued as to how one draws this into the realm of our everday consumption of popular culture.

To refer specifically to the world of music, the chosen sphere of existence will delineate where the goals lie. By this, I mean that if an artist is seeking to appeal to the teens, then the music must be geared to that target market. Consider whether the current popularity of Justin Bieber is likely to continue - certainly, the idea is laughable, and can be immediately dismissed. In all likelihood, and I speak only from his current trajectory, chances are highly probably that he can only become a sort of Britney Spears character, although, hopefully, one that avoids the fate that all that have been thrust forward too young are confronted with. He may be a celebrity who has made a lot of money - and who possibly continues to sell a lot of records- but for that very reason, a curiousity that is "just there". It is familiar but only to those of us within this particular moment, and thus, will be superceded by whatever is to come next. This is not to say, however, that the willfully obscure will escape any other fate, as they too exist somewhere on the same strata, although for different reasons. Their success lies in the devotion of the few, who will recall fondly the scene, but will find it fades outside of its original context. It may be argued that this is beside the point, as there was no original context, and that it was highly personal from the outset, but I leave this aside.

I do not want to be mistaken for advocating that we should all settle for the middle ground of classic rock as the only the indelible mark upon our listening habits. To the contrary, some rely heavily upon specific genres as a mark of identity, and take great solace in being able to elicit something therefrom. It can be a part of a person, even if it carries with it the condemnation of being berated by a child for awful "taste". It remains to everyone to have those movies, or songs that reflect something of a childhood, or a life experience. For that reason, it remains a cherished aspect of that person, and it is completely irrelevant whether the future has overtaken it, or whether it is, by any standards of evaluation, just bad. It may be true to say that the true value in music, books and films are in their ability to be shared, and perhaps not in sheer merit. Perhaps one cannot understand the item itself, but one may be able to grasp its significance to another.

It may be pointed out, however, that merit must have a part, as (and this is inescapable) there is much placed before the masses that is just plain terrible. This has led to the quite commonly expressed idea that "the music died with the close of the 60's", which many will, quite rightly, bristle at. It is a patently absurd reason to ignore all that has come since. I do not argue that the 60's were not a wellspring of astonishing creativity and quality, nor that the weariness of the 70's, and the trashy glamour of the 80's, do much in favour of negating the theory. The 90's began to show signs of a return, although the music was still very much saturated by the run of grunge, and then rise of nu-metal did no-one any favours. It is only with the start of the new century, in my opinion, that the genres began to surge back to a new all encompassing acceptance. And this is not to say that popular culture does not continue to mine new depths within this decade- it certainly does, as we are faced with bad remakes of bad movies, and horrible reworkings of old songs in an attempt at an "update"- but only that now there is a greater choice for those that wish to seek it.

However, it is worth pointing out that many forget, or are unaware, of anything beyond the "popular" songs that were, admittedly, overwhelmingly imposed through the mediums of the time. In other words, the 70's consisted of country-rock and disco. The 80's were, well, whatever it was people want to call it, and the 90's can be definable as grunge and nu-metal. But it is only to scratch the surface on what was going on, and the indie artists may point to Big Star, Chris Bell, the Feelies, the Replacements, Husker Du, Young Marble Giants, and the hundreds of underground artists that were making something for themselves and were unapologetic of that fact. Genres were bent, often broken, and popular conventions were flaunted. It was exciting stuff, and so much so, that some of it remains very influential today.

To aim for the "timeless" is a difficult task, as one seeks to be something that is going to appeal to fashions of the time, but at the same time, adopt the conventions of the past, and hence, be recognisable to another crowd. I cannot help but feel that if an artist consciously seeks to do this, they are confining themselves to a sort of mediocrity, as they are marrying concepts that are extraordinarily complex, and playing the odds with the unknown. This is not say that one can never aim for this- to the contrary. I mean only that it is a daunting task to take up. The listening habits of people are almost impossible to predict, even if the cynic may point out that they can be manipulated to a certain extent. The truly "great" albums are those that become labeled as such, and are certainly not easily conferred with that honour, if any truly are at all. At the same time, however, I find myself very aware of being exposed to elements that are very much of their moment, and I cannot help but wonder whether they will hold the same significance in the coming years. At the moment, the byword appears to be the contemporary electro pop that was foreseen by the Postal Service, but is now omnipresent with artists such as Beach House, Broken Bells, and the variety of others that are taking lesser known elements of the 80's indie scene, and placing them within the context of the present music scenes. To my horror, the 80's are making a strong resurgence, which seems to suggest another decade being sacrificed to the crass and overt, although, hopefully, this will, once again, prompt the indie on to new and exciting avenues. One can only hope, although this now carries the caveat that indie is actually now "popular". What that means, can only remain to be discovered.

To return to my point, I was thinking of how this ties into my earlier musings on being "cool". If one considers the notion only in the sense that it captures something of a timeless quality- that is, on the one hand, of its time, but also, on the other, beyond it- one is faced with the idea that one needs to be a part of popular world, but at the same time, not of it. A small task, one may think. I remain of the opinion, however, that even though it is a futile aim, that the exercise has some merit, as it requires an awareness of the movements of time that although need not necessarily be observed, the mere consideration of which has value. Ultimately, we are all going to have those pictures that we look back in embarrassment, or those "artifacts" in our collections that are rarely played, watched or only heard in private. In a sense, heroes may die to the larger world, but at the same time, they may be imortal to someone. Perhaps that is all one requires.

To quote the recent article on the London Times on a performance by Iggy & the Stooges:
"Restlessly patrolling the stage in his strange, lolloping, broken-doll walk- the result of innumerable falls and bashes- Iggy cut an extraordinary figure for a man of any age, let alone 62. His singing encompassed a deep punk croon together with a lot of yelping and bawling, while Williamson's razor-edged riffing- which was so far ahead of its time in 1973- now sounded like classic punk rock of the sort made famous by the Clash, the Pistols and all the other bands who were inspired by the Stooges in the first place."
In my strangely convoluted way, it is entirely questionable whether I have succeeded in stating anything of particular value. Perhaps not, although I hope there is at least some cud to chew on, somewhere within the disorded mess. You need something certified, you say? I'm your guy. Just don't ask me to think about it too hard, or create the propensity of getting me into trouble. I am quite capable of doing that on my own.

Mix Tape 04 - 2010

2010-04-11T07:02:00.000-07:00

Rachel's - Kentucky Nocturne (Selenography : Quarterstick Records, 1999)
The Receiver - Prodigal (Decades : Stunning Models On Display, 2006)
Linfinity - Molly Mar of Rome (Martian's Bloom : American Myth Records, 2010)
American Music Club - Job To Do (Love Songs For Patriots : Merge, 2004)
Beach House - Used To Be (Teen Drama : Sub-Pop, 2010)
Telekinesis - Awkward Kisser (Telekinesis! : Merge, 2009)
Los Campesinos! - We've Got Your Back (Romance Is Boring : Arts & Crafts, 2010)
City Bowl Mizers - Buddy (City Bowl Mizers : Sony, 2009)
Stricken City - P.S (Songs About People I Know : Kora, 2009)
The Soft Pack - More Or Less (The Soft Pack : Kemado, 2010)
Desmond & the Tutus - Peter (Tuckshop : Awesomeland, 2008)
Surfer Blood - Anchorage (Astro Coast : Kanine, 2010)
Thrushes - Crystals (Night Falls : Birdnote, 2010)
The Rural Alberta Advantage - Edmonton (Hometowns : Saddle Creek, 2008)
Citay - Dream Get Together (Dream Get Together : Dead Oceans, 2010)
Local Natives - World News (Gorilla Manor : Frenchkiss, 2010)
Yo La Tengo - More Stars Than There Are In Heaven (Popular Songs : Matador, 2009)

The woes of Indie Rock

2010-04-11T06:50:00.000-07:00

I have to allow myself a wry smile when on the odd occasion I come across a write-up in something like the New York Times on indie musicians. The burgeoning popularity in this sort of music seems to have a far greater reach than many of us think. To me, I subscribe to the more negative notion that an awareness of the music is distinct from knowledge of the band. It is a cynical view, which may, perhaps, not be entirely correct, but anyway, in my childish "outsider" mentality, that is what I am going to stick to for the present.

In any event, I came across the New York Times' article on Surfer Blood, which, predictably, proclaimed the woes of the modern age of indie, and the struggles of a "smart band" and their aspirations. It is the ordinary schtick on the fleeting nature of fame (and no, I am not interested in hearing the Andy Warhol quote again).

I have the Surfer Blood album, and, admittedly, I am glad that I do. I am a sucker for this sort of music- it has all the tags of Pacific Northwest pedigree (despite being from Florida), but funnelled through surf rock ideas. In other words, this music is just a collection of tight pop/rock tunes, layering hook after hook on a bedrock of guitars, drum and bass. The vocals have the copyright James Mercer effects that is smattered with reverb, and echoes in your brain, with each progressive line. And there is, what seems to be now obligatory reference to West African music, courtesy of our favourite Ivy League dropouts, Vampire Weekend.

However, for all this, there is this nagging feeling that I am not privy to some in-joke, because, there is just so much of this sort of music around these days. The Shins may be defunct, but their brand on the realm of indie rock is probably to remain a bedrock for some time to come yet. Surfer Blood might have a slight lead on some of the other pretenders to the crown, and yet, I remain uncertain as to their longevity beyond being that
of a novelty item. The prime example at the moment seems to be Girls, who had everyone jumping up and down- seemingly more obsessed with the life history of the lead singer, than anything they had actually played. And now, they seem like a distant, and forgotten entity, although, I had to note that I was amused to see their "album" in the stores here, being peddled at the usual grossly over-inflated price. Better late than never, I guess.

But I shall concede an inherent negativity to my thoughts, and hope, sincerely, that I am wrong. I really do, as I like Surfer Blood, and for all my doubts, I do keep listening. Repeatedly. I have also laid this accusation before Band of Horses, and yet, they remain, one of my favourite artists. So take from this what you will.

What did pique my interest were the comments by Carrie Brownstein (the former guitarist for another favourite, Sleater-Kinney). I suppose one does have to take into account the present backlash from many that SXSW (for those not in the know, South By South-West is a major "festival" - read A&R exercise - held annually in Austin Texas, where the who's who of up and coming talent converge in the hope of record deals, product placement and the possibility of a career) is actually a pretty poor event for the reason that it is a victim of its own success. Basically, it has just grown too big. One is constantly feeling torn between the myriad of artists- many worthy of attention- but physically lacking the ability to be there. No one is paying sufficient heed, everyone is battling alcohol, and sleep deprivation- the bands as well, and thus are probably not at their best and brightest in their attempt to wow- and fans are subjected to the insanity of it all- never mind the crowds, and an awareness of being a cog in the big corporate.

I know some of you are thinking it, so let me admit that I have never been to SXSW. This opinion elucidated above is entirely sourced on hearsay, so if I am entirely incorrect, I would welcome the contrary view.

But in any event, in her interview with the band, Ms. Brownstein had the following to say: “Yes, the Internet obviously foments a lot of buzz and chatter,” she said, “but there’s nothing more exciting than having a friend tell you that they saw a great show by a great band and that you should check it out. So hopefully by the time you’re on your 10th show, every single person that wants to see you will see you and go back to their towns across America and the world and preach about Surfer Blood. That’s the only way to keep a band on
your radar.”

“The blogs,” she added, “will already be on to something new.”

There is definitely something to be said for the primacy of the live show- and it has been famously proclaimed that due to the draconian business practices of many in the music industry that the only true source of income for artists lies in their ability to play live.For those of us, however, banished to the outer reaches of the world, there is only the music to rely on. I would love to see any number of bands' shows, even if physical realities
preclude this.

But the sentiment is true. There is nothing better than being introduced to a new artist through experience, even if this is only through an enthusiastic friend. In the dry realm of the blogosphere, too many people are pompously informed, airing views too readily garnered from those more "influential", and everything can just become stale. The consumerist tendencies of our time are also forefronted, and as Ms. Brownstein says- too often people have already moved on to the next big thing. As, ironically, said by (more commonly known as
Seth from the OC), being an indie rocker these days is tough, and you just are forced to do something different to distinguish yourself from the crowd.

But I often wonder to what extent, in this fickle world, that artists are promoted as too much of a gimmick- thrust into the limelight far too quickly, and then tossed aside at almost at the same time. This fame goes both ways- its unfair on the many fans, who just don't have a chance to properly evaluate what they are hearing (why do that? There are plenty of far better informed people to do that for you!) before the next thing is already in front of you, and like a child in a sugar induced fit of ADHD, our attention is lost. But on the other side, the bands also sit, having never been given a chance. The world is buzzing, often, before they even realise it, and they have scant chance to understand why. For many bands, the idea of just being one hit wonders is horribly depressing- and one can certainly understand why. At the same time, they are left to try and crest the wave, and give themselves a crash course in all those things they are meant to know, but cannot,
unless you are actually living in the music world.

In other words, the problem lies in the fact that there is just so much out there at the moment, that for many, it is an impossibly daunting exercise on where to find stuff. There is just so much vying for one's attention that it can be quite overwhelming. And this goes equally for the bands, as they face the prospect of entering this morass, and trying to figure out where they fit into this PR exercise.

This is the reality, and it becomes a question on how to overcome this. I am not one who decries Pitchfork, nor do I agree with many of the more barbed comments made in regard to it. I almost always tell people looking to get into the world to start there, but I also tell them to keep a sense of what it is they are looking for. Read the reviews, rather than look at the rating given, and see if there is something you think you might like. Not whether this is a "9.2" and a must-have. It might well be, but the thing is to find that out for yourself. It is a guide, not a moral code.

But I do continue to fret over the concentration span of many- I shall not reair my views on this- but at the same time, it is truly fantastic to see how many artists are getting an opportunity today. Sure, in a market as wildly rampant as the present, it is extremely tough to get noticed. And yet, there is a sense of the broom cupboard being aired, as the exclusivity of indie music is removed from the cloistered scenes of those in the know. The information is readily (and easily) available for those that are interested.

I suppose my point is really this. For all the hype and plastic superficiality of many of the blogs, the fans (and some are writing excellent blogs) are still out there who will love an artist just for their music, and want to support them as much as they are able to. I shall never forget the loathing with which those of us following the indie scene regarded the hipsters that would always show face at only the coolest of parties. They knew nothing of the music, only that they were obliged to be seen there. It is possible that it is this manifestation that has driven many in the indie scene slightly underground, to hide their music, rather than display it as a brand and invite the possibility of the hipster accusation (I leave aside the inherent outsider aspects of indie music lovers- the need many of us feel for some sort of private connection to the music we love).

There is a whole other scene beyond that of the blogs and the music press. The fans do still trade music, largely unimpeded by the whims of the world, and recommend things close to their heart for their own reasons. Of course, getting on the radar does present its own problems, but the bands should not for a second think that the fans are as fickle as the blogs are often portrayed as. I, for one, don't think the album is a dead art-form yet, and as there are only so many hours in a day, many are listening. Not skipping stones on the surface, like a child faced with a plethora of buttons to press.

Fire Through The Window - Hey! (Sheer Sound, 2009)

2010-04-11T06:46:00.000-07:00

When it comes to South African bands, as a general rule, they get an immediate pass from me. I am incurably loyal, to the extent that I will forgive any number of tics and amateurish (perhaps, even, cliched) elements, just for the simple reason that it is local. In a scene that is as small and fickle as the one that we have here, I cannot help it, as, at the end of it all, these people are out there and doing it. And I will support them in
any way that I can

In the interests of full disclosure, Fire Through The Window have an additional advantage, however, as they hail from my home province. I came across this band when their first single "Just Like You Are" was released (and, notably, was later picked up by Apple for iTunes). It is such an incurably catchy song, that I have been keeping on eye out for this group ever since. When I then discovered that they had hired the services of one of the guys of Menomena, to produce on their debut album, well, they need do nothing more to have my admiration. I dearly wish that Menomena would get their debut album, I Am The Fun Blame Monster, back into print, as it remains an all time favourite of mine. Having said that, Friend and Foe is certainly not something to be sneered at. But, I digress, as the mere fact that FTTW would obtain the services of someone like this speaks volumes.

This is their second album, which is also garnering some well deserved attention, with their single "Do Do Do", popping up on MTV with some quite pleasing regularity. It would appear that this band is going places, and from what I can hear from the album, it seems to be well deserved.

For those that may remember, Marc De La Querra was a member of the Durban band, Nemesis (which, due to contractual wranglings, later became the Nemesis Army). The group is the brainchild of De La Querra and Sinead Dennis, a long time couple, and for whom De La Querra had decided to write a few serenading songs. When he discovered that Dennis was fairly handy on the vocals, the band was created, and things seem
to have snowballed from there.

And before anyone even thinks it, believe it or not, Durban actually does have a scene apart from its predominant roots in punk (although, is it my impression, or does this seem to be fading ever so slightly, what with the rise of the Willowvale, and a, seeming, growing awareness of indie?) In truth, Durban is a small scene, but, I live in hope, especially with bands such as the City Bowl Mizers and Fire Through The Window.

Stylistically, I can hear certain elements of the City Bowl Mizers in some of the guitar work of this album, however, FTTW, trade more in the upbeat indie pop world- delivering their mostly sweet, romantic tunes, with the giddiness of an artist like Brighton's Los Campesinos!. The guitars are chopped and bouncy, the rhythms cheerful, and De La Querra and Dennis duel on the boy-girl exchange, even although Dennis does take the majority of the vocal duties. Imagine the jangle of a band such as Sixpence None The Richer, but fed through indie rock mill in something akin to 1997, with a little bit of the adult romance of a band such as Sheffield's The Slow Club. It makes for a heady summertime mix, and for any amongst you looking for
mix-tape songs, well this is a pretty good place to start.

What is also pleasing to hear is the way in which the album develops, and reveals itself with every successive play. The opening songs indulge in the band's pop tendencies, working on the bounce of guitars, before later tracks reveal vaguely grunge roots, with some fun takes on punk beats. In other words, the bands plays to their strengths, utilizing subtle changes but remaining always true to their core sound. The songs are sweet, but not twee, and coil their way into your mind like only certain songs can.

The quality of SA artists seems to be rapidly improving, and for a change, it is nice to have to say that a local band doesn't fall into the category of amateur upstarts. FTTW seem to be at forefront of ushering in a whole new scene, and with work as good as this, I hope it isn't long before they get the proper attention they deserve.

Mix Tape 03 - 2010

2010-03-06T04:45:00.000-08:00

Born Ruffians - This Sentence (Born Ruffians EP : Warp Records, 2006)
Eddy Current Suppression Ring - Wrapped Up (Primary Colours : Phantom Sound & Vision, 2008)
Surfer Blood - Fast Jabroni (Astro Coast : Kanine Records, 2010)
Spoon - Writtern In Reverse (Transference : Merge, 2010)
The Black Keys - Countdown (The Big Come Up : Alive Records, 2002)
Diehard - Shark Suits (Great Scott EP : Available at http://diehardtheband.com/)
Will Stratton - You're A Real Thing (No Wonder : Stunning Models On Display, 2009)
Nothing Painted Blue - Rightful Heir (Placeholders : Scat Records, 1994)
Vampire Weekend - Horchata (Contra : XL, 2010)
Blk Jks - Skeleton (After Robots : Secretly Canadian, 2009)
Beach House - 10 Mile Stereo (Teen Drama : Sub-Pop, 2010)
The xx - VCR (XX : XL Recordings, 2009)
Taken By Trees - Anna (East of Eden : Rough Trade, 2009)
The New Pornographers - The Bleeding Heart Show (Twin Cinema : Matador, 2005)
The Felice Brothers - Penn Station (Yonder Is The Clock : Team Love Records, 2009)
Bonnie Billy & the Picket Line - May It Always Be (Funtwon Comedown : Drag City, 2009)
The Last Town Chorus - Modern Love (Wire Waltz : Hacktone Records, 2006)
The Zombies - Care of Cell 44 (Odessey & Oracle : Big Beat UK, 1968)
The Allman Brothers Band - It's Not My Cross To Bear (Gold : Island/Mercury, 2005)
Fleetwood Mac - Jumpin' At Shadows (Jumping At Shadows : The Blues Years : Sanctuary Records, 2002)
The Roadside Graves - Far And Wide (Available at www.daytrotter.com)

Rhythm as Repetition

2010-03-06T04:31:00.000-08:00

To start on a rather more morbid topic, I recently had the tragic misfortune of attending a funeral. Without going into any particular detail, we happened to be congregated in one of the more progressive churches, which means that for those of us steeped in the severe tradition of religion, we found it to be quite a harrowing experience. The renditions of songs that merrily mix colloquialisms into these ancient hymns, whilst the bereaved elected to play a song by Green Day in memory of the deceased. It was a strange day, especially when confronted with a profoundly devout preacher threatening the people with a smile. In fact, it was nothing more than simple "fire and brimstone" but with a smile - a wolf in sheep's clothing.

I do not wish to become mired in the minefield that is a discussion on religion (there are fewer topics that carry a more heated argument- bringing to mind colleagues of mine accosting a devout Christian with her views on sex before marriage...), but during the course of this the service, I was struck by the inherent rhythm that is fundamental to the practice of organised religion. Despite the best efforts of this church to drag the practice into the modern world, the fact remained that they could not do away with the prayers and hymns. Compounded by the presence of any number of people persuaded by otherbeliefs, perhaps it is fair to admit that this was possibly an abbreviated version of how they normally practice. But in any event, there is still the singing of hymns (badly, as is the norm), the saying of prayers, the opportunity to adopt the pulpit, and the inescapably tearful words of those wounded by loss.

The cynic cannot help but point out that at any funeral, there are actually only a few seriously affected by the tragedy, whilst others, as heartful and sorry as possible, cannot understand the loss being endured. It is an entirely personal thing, and for which one can only attend the funeral, almost as a show of solidarity. The service could be in Latin, for all that it is being listened to, as people tend to mechanically recite ancient pleas, even if it is with the fervour reserved to the devout. My point, really, is that there is a profounf significance that lies in the repetition, the ryhthm of the whole process, as a fundamental element of the aim of the whole process.

For many of us, we know the services by heart (at one stage, I had it down to a timed art, such as to know exactly when I could escape, and even to the extent of being able to day dream through significant portions such as to try and alleviate the burden of enforced attendance) and often, with the manner of knowing, but lacking understanding. But in matters of funerals and weddings (those events that even the non-religious feel a curious pull towards attendance) it is strange to consider than in moments of extreme emotion, the mere presence at these events acts as solace.

As is my wont, of course, I tend to comment upon sociological events with the untrained eye, posing questions that are perhaps a trite commentary on the world around us. My curiousity is piqued by the repetition, however, as a quite considerably younger character, I espoused a treatise upon the notion of our living to a rhythm, in the sense that it being of profound significance to us, as a species, to have routine. But the tension lies in the self-imposed slavery that it becomes, as we lose our sense of self by simply doing things through habit, or sheer formality. We neglect to question, and evaluate so many things, because they are
"just things that everyone does".

To many, this may be a rather naive, and certainly a youthful, observation (and trust me, it was). The desire to "cast off the shackles of the oppressor" and quote, ad nauseum, the words of Holden Caulfield- this was not really the case. I was, and still am, an observer, more than anything else (and yes, I am sure that the Existentialists would have much to tell me). But in the years that have passed since then, whilst I still acknowledge the central idea of the treatise, I have become rather more persuaded by the idea that in order for our selves to functionally exist, the notion of routine is absolutely essential. To navigate the confusion of the daily world, there has to at least be something to cling to, even if is only in the simple act of eating a meal, or reading the newspaper.

It is almost as if we cannot help it. Certainly, we have functional, physical needs that need to be met, but having said this, there are many of us that end up doing those things in exactly the same manner in an endless repetition. Consider how essential routine is to a young child, how important it is for the parents' sanity to ensure their child has a vague idea of what to expect so as not to encourage blue murder when the child is hungry or tired. Another example that comes to mind, and this is directed to the women, consider how a "change" can be simply a haircut. And it truly is a "change" because even though it can significantly change appearance, to everyone else (read: other women), it is something to mention, a topic to discuss. It is a disruption of the ordinary progression of things- requiring a different way of getting "ready" in the morning, an alteration to the reflection in the mirror- and hence for many, it may not happen all that often. My point is that we develop systems almost by sheer default. Some are more banal than others, but they are certainly all there. They become an essential part of the make up of this thing that we commonly call "life".

I am sure that there are many amongst us that could draw significance from this into the realm of music, but, for a change, this is a topic I don't really want to broach, for the reason that I think it may lead down a tenuous road that is like to end to bland and trite observations. Suffice to say, that if one considers the notion of life as movement, as a repetitious movement, it may explain something of our innate need (and attraction) to music in the course of a daily world.

But I suppose that having reached this point in my observations, the obvious question is to ask whether there is any significance in this at all. If one acknowledges that certain of these things are dicated by biology, then is this to say that we should try and think of new ways to eat meals every time that we are hungry? Drive to work by a different road each day? The choices are extremely limited by the nature of the specific task, and ultimately, there is comfort to be had in doing things by a set pattern. To the young, the idea is abhorrent, to the older, a simple fact. Energy expounded in rage, and frustration, is tranferred to something more akin to understanding (the younger would say resignation). Certain things are simply facts, and there is little value in attempting to flail against them.

It is always with a sense of amusement that I watch certain scientific discoveries being promoted to the world (consider the endless dietary discoveries that are constantly being produced to great fanfare). One such recent pronouncement is that it has now been proven that culture has an effect on human evolution, with part of the proof pointing to the incidence of lactose tolerance, and the manner in which that has become ingrained into our DNA. Although I do not discount that I possibly do not reflect the opinions held generally, to me, this seems like an absolutely ridiculous observation to make. Surely it is obvious that certain elements of culture would dictate our evolution? If for some reason, we were to all become vegans, does logic not dictate that this would change our development? In any event, before I embark upon a tirade that is likely ill-advised, my point is that there is so much that we just don't know, that for many, even these sorts of observations are relevant (and even significant).

For many, the comfort lies in the development of a routine, and to a greater or lesser degree some may draw significance from that. In the most awful comparison that I have attempted to avoid as best I could, the notion can be illustrated through the development of some sort of a bedrock - a foundation - as from this best allows scope for experimentation. Comfort is not necessarily a good thing, but it is a pitfall most inevitably fall into, and it is something some may need to confront and deal with. For others amongst us, this idea is embodied in the concept of noise- banging a wooden spoon on a pan- insistent beats, and a certain element of familiarity. Songs with very strong rhythmic content, and fairly "classic" use of song structure, could be described as cheesy. But then that is truthfully only because we know its type so well.

Local Natives - Gorilla Manor (Frenchkiss, 2010)

2010-03-06T04:08:00.000-08:00

Dear Indie Hipsters,

It would be greatly appreciated if you could leave this band alone. I know that everyone is talking about them, and that is probably with fairly good reason. Certainly, it can be conceded that this album is another entry into the real "hip" and happening releases of "indie", displaying any number of the hallmarks of what is so incredibly popular at the moment. It has not gone unnoticed that the influence of Fleet Foxes has been like a thunderclap over the indie landscape, and as far as the vocals and harmonies on this album are clearly indebted.

But where Fleet Foxes have evoked in many a sort of bewildered debate as to why, exactly, they are so popular- with many divided along the love or hate lines with their heavily influenced 70's stylings- Local Natives have adopted a far more urbane approach, slotting the vocals into the realm of scittering drums that are at once tribal, but verging on the edge of military, with a heavily understated guitar that flits in and out of the song, adding colour, but never dominating.

The thought of the cold city isolation (popularised by the National and Interpol through their love of Talking Heads) could also be drawn in the reverb of the guitar and the haunting vocals. The flashes of pop are evident in the use of the piano and strings, and there any number of other subtle winks to other successful indie artists (anyone else think that the chorus in "Sun Hands" has a suggestion of Man Man to it?). The truth of it is, I think this may in fact be a remarkably understated release. There is very little bombast, with the band mining a sound that is so much an amalgam of any number of things going on in New York (and perhaps, even more specifically, Brooklyn), that it would be ridiculously easy to hold this band up as the new indie darlings, matching all that is popular, to create a sound that looks to take over the world. The sound is incredibly tight, with each song revealing an elasticity that is remarkably attractive because it still sounds natural. This is a band that seriously knows what it is doing.

But if the hipsters would be quiet, and listen, they may actually find a very astute release that stands on its own. Yes, it is very much of its time, and it will remain to be seen once the furor has died down, as to how this album will stand up to future scrutiny. But with a sound this cohesive, and a band clearly savvy to the world they inhabit, they have successfully created a beautiful, pop-filled album that is rightly getting critical and popular acclaim. But to be handed the fate of Fleet Foxes- hugely influential, but with many now neglecting them (unfairly, I suspect)- would be undeserved.

It happens too often that if people talk too much about a band, saturation is reached, with the result that people don't even want to listen any more, irrespective of what is being asked of them. And when there are things out there that are actually good, it is a truly sad fate to have entertain. So to all amongst us that are buzzing about this band, yes, they have released a good album. But any number of people are likely going to be turned off it by either the ceaseless prattling of people on the blogs, or the perceived to be "too-obvious" references to other successful acts, that many of the so-called "indie illuminati" may not even listen to it at all.

The Receiver - Decades (Stunning Models On Display,

2010-03-06T04:00:00.000-08:00

It is with some chagrin that I have to admit that I acquired the second album by this band before listening to this one, and in the process, neglected the "common knowledge" to almost all music- namely, that more often than not, the second album proves to be the difficult one.

The focus of this, the debut, is marked in comparison to the second. The band is shown with a far simpler sound, emphasising the piano, drums and hushed vocals, whilst showing all their predilection for space. As a result, the band is occupying this interesting space where their sound is very much influenced by a number of the post-rock acts (especially, in the drumming- forefronting crashing cymbals, and beats that alternate between the delicate and the driving). In combination with the hushed vocals, the album is one that is at once calming, but insistent. If one can imagine sitting by the ocean, listening to the waves crashing, and adopting the emotions of the pensive onlooker, then one can maybe understand something of what it is like to listen to Decades. There are any number of winks to shoe-gaze but adopted from the view of the jazzy reverence encouraged by an artist such as Menomena. As a result, one hears an album that lacks the crashing violence of shoe-gaze, but with enough content, to encourage closer listening in one's slow melancholy.

Musically, the album is extremely sparse, and it is can be quite difficult to constantly maintain an awareness of what is actually going on. In other words, this is either music to be listened to, or to just allow it to wash over you, and await that occasional riff, or word, to jerk you from your revelry. Granted, it is not for those pop-lovers amongst us, as it eschews the brazen hook for a more slow-building, repetitious approach. To those amongst us that are post-rock lovers, they will know exactly what I am speaking of. The hooks tend to be more repetitious, with each element being allowed space to breath, and come to fruition slowly.

But where this album is interesting is that none of the songs cross beyond the six-minute mark, and in such a basic setting, the occasional throbbing bass line, guitar flourish or electronic addition can be used subtly, but with remarkable effectiveness. And it starts to make even more sense, if one takes the selection of songs as a single body of work, almost as if the band just took one 50 minute song, and carefully cut it into 12 selective pieces. It would be unfair to say that each song lacks character, but in such a spartan, gentle setting, the point is quite fairly made.

Decades reveals a far younger band than does Length of Arms, but one with a far purer idea as to their sound. Absent are the swaggering electronics that so dominate the second album, and as a result, they are distinctly different albums. Both display the tics of the band, and I can understand that, possibly, they felt that they should not limit their sound unnecessarily. But the spartan sound has been exchanged for something, I believe, to be a little too garish in the heavy reliance on electronics on their second album. It is slightly too great a deviation into the present the 80's revival and the so-called "New York" sound from a debut that shows a band with great promise.

Linfinity - Martian's Bloom (American Myth Recordings, 2010)

2010-03-06T03:47:00.000-08:00

The first thing that is immediately striking about this debut full-length from this Brooklyn band is the vocals. It took me a little while to place them, but I have come to the conclusion that they fit somewhere as a cross between Antony Hegerty and Alec ounsworth. I am aware as to how strange this may sound- considering that Mr. Ounsworth is often derided (I think unfairly) for his vocal style, whilst Antony Hegerty (of Antony & the Johnsons) has one of the most beautiful voices in indie rock today. In other words, Dylan Von Wagner can really sing, but there is just something slightly off about it.

But sitting behind the vocals, is an impressive array of instruments (and although I say this, I admit that it can be quite easy to neglect the music, as the vocals are simply so prominent). The simplest way to really describe this band is to make mention of the wide array of styles that they cover. The second track "Holy Rain" adopts a sort of gypsy rustle, recalling something of the genre twisting artists such as Beirut or Calexico. But then "Seasaw Love" devles somewhat into country, a quick little detour following "Choo Choo Train To Venice" that one can only describe as demented 50's rock. Violins squall in the background to the driving guitar riff, and hammering beat. The view expressed on FluxBlog of "a demented prospector" is a fairly good appraisal given the rollicking nature of this track. It bears the markings of what I like to think of as Tarantino influenced- rescuing obscure old styles of music, mixing it into this sort of sleazy retro-rock, popularised by artists such as Queens of the Stone Age, or Miss Derringer. But in the version done by Linfinity, they lack the sort of taut rock 'n roll that the bands of this sort are infamous for. It's the Linfinity version, and it is the one real, but pleasing, anomaly on this album.

By the time one gets to "Morning Heights", with a guitar riff bursts into glory in a manner reminiscent of Wilco circa the Ghost Is Born, one can perhaps be forgiven for being a little uncertain as to what this band actually sounds like. But it is unfair to give the impression that this band are all over the place, in a manner that, say, someone like Blitzen Trapper (On "Wild Mountain Nation") could be described as. Linfinity are channeling something between the operatic bents of indie chamber artists such as Shearwater or Tindersticks, but adopting a more inclusive sound that is very influenced, in my mind towards lengthier, more 70's influenced work of someone like, say, the Strawbs. There is a huge amount going on in each song, with flashes of different styles and ideas adorning every song. They bring very much to mind Alec Ounsworth's debut album, Mo Beauty, in the manner in which everything is fair game when it comes to constructing a song. But where they differ from the aforementioned artist, is that they are tending to move away from the pop-centric song structure, to focus more on a broader palette. I don't mean, in any way, to disparage Alec Ounsworth, whose debut album is one that I consider to be very much a slow burner- it takes a while, but those tracks do have a tendency to stick their claws into you after a while. And yes, I know someone is going to say it, there will be certain comparisons made to Radiohead. Personally, I find some of the analogies too quickly drawn, but in this case, I think some of the flashes are understandable in the sleepy, expansive atmosphere created in some of the songs. Do Linfinity sound like Radiohead? No, they certainly do not.

Linfinity have a broad sonic landscape in mind, and as a result, their songs are stretched a little more, and filled with musical ideas and sounds. It serves up an interesting listen, as it brings any number of artists to mind, and a smorgasbord of influences for the obsessive listener. The ease with which this band flits between genres is impressive, although, truthfully, at heart, this album is actually another entry into the realm of indie chamber pop. Even if it is with a slight twist.

It's All Just So Emotional

2010-02-13T01:52:00.000-08:00

The greeting of the New Year is always something that I view with some trepidation as it inevitably never really lives up to any of the grossly over-inflated expectations. The fanfare that goes into the revelry is usually fairly forced, with most disagreeing as to the best manner, and place, to see the ending of another bracket of time. But, it must be admitted, it is a pleasing distraction from the burdens of the working life, and one can generally embrace the feeling of "refreshment" for the rigours ahead. The problem, however, arises in the slump that promises the month of February as one realises that the year has very much begun...and has a long way to go. Valentines Day is all but upon us already, and although I suppose it has not quite sunk to the depths of Christmas advertising (which can be enjoyed as early as October...), as ever, it will likely come and disappear as a minor blip on the yearly calendar.

If any have realised, and perhaps some have, I don't particularly have anything in mind to speak of at present. It is with a sense of duty and a general insistence on tending to nurture some minor success enjoyed on this site of late, that I feel compelled to share some thoughts, and so some shall have to excuse me if this particular entry does not quite reach the high esteem that some of my more lucid and irreverant compilations have.

And for those that did get this far, thank you. There is at least a mix-tape for this month.

I have been attempting to mold some sort of a coherent pattern of thought on the concept of the universality of music. This is a broad topic, and one that I have certainly tried to tackle previously in various guises. But the thought did cross my mind that one of the most intriguing things about music lies in its intangible connection to emotion. I have always been curious by the idea that almost all people, to a lesser or greater extent, can be inextricably bound through music, almost as if it is a necessary component to unpacking emotional responses. Consider a certain song that happened to be playing a particularly poignant moment in your life, and it almost acts like a trigger to those feelings, releasing a time capsule to be re-examined, experienced, or reminisced over. Of course, there will be many for whom a song is too pointed a query, with the consequence that it is remembered with some embarassment, pain, or some other emotion which is not sought to be relived.

But even more curious is that there are so many people for whom music does not quite attain the same level of fascination, and yet they will still have "a song". Of course, the stereotype dicates that this should remind them of an old lover (probably childhood)- a first kiss or first dance, depending on the age, and your social experience (or perhaps, exposure would be more accurate...) It can be the most derivative song, as generic as is possible, and yet, for that person, it really does mean something. The question becomes one in which we don't question that people are attracted to music, but rather as to how inextricable that connection is. Before my cup runneth over, however, I suppose one does need to take a step away from this, and look at least as to whether this entire line of thought is merely a product of the social revolution of the mid-twentieth century. Music was suddenly elevated far beyond that of a certain band of persons, and was suddenly integrated into the very fabric of society.

Now, the question is whether this was merely the industrial revolution of the music industry, in the sense that production was simply stepped up and the physical item was sent in to flood the marketplace. What one would need to know is whether the market was already there, awaiting the technology, or is this attitude that I am referring to one that is a manifestation of the birth of the popular "scene". I guess that it may be a silly observation to make, as certainly gramophones were widely available before the birth of the"LP" as we know it, and certainly, recorded music was not uncommon at that time. My knowledge extends only as far as the late 19th century in this regard, but in any event, it was there. But the focus is actually on people's attitude to music at that time. Common sense would seem to dictate that it did not have the same level of saturation in the psyche of society as it does today, as people lived quieter and slower lives. The world was just not as noisy. But I would be intrigued to know as to what extent live music filled the role of social entertainment- as the common view would perhaps suggest that our current obsessions would be derided as the sole pursuits of the young and baudy.

I suppose the question that I am trying to pose is whether our current obsession with music is something that has been instilled through our societal proclivities, and not necessarily as an innate attraction that we have inherited as a species. The obvious answer to this, of course, is to say that we have risen to the level of obsession through the teenage instillation of music into the very fabric of our formative years. But the innate attraction was already there, even if it is now a hyped up, steroid induced version.In any event, I am becoming sidetracked as I think it can be generally accepted that people do have an age old attraction to music, and that if one takes into consideration the prominence it occupies in our lives today, that we have developed emotional tendrils to the artists whom we turn to during momentous incidents in our lives. I do not mean this in the sense of the artist themself, but rather refer to the sense of connection one has to a song. I have often wondered as to whether I have become a soley internalised fan, in the sense that I derive such personal satisfaction from the music I love, that the actual meaning of the song, or the character of the artist(s) who created it can almost become irrelevant. I have no real interest in what the artist is doing with his time, what his private life is, and honestly, I can say that for the most part, I am only ever really interested in the basic geographical origins, and adopted home of the artist. I say this as often the geographical location can be integral in placing musicians and their sound within a musical lexicon.

But there is something to be said for the fact that sometimes one can play a song, and just feel "cool" upon hearing it. Things just seem to click into place, and the veils of illusion are momentarily lifted across one's world. It is absurd, really, but nonetheless, it happens, irrespective of age or gender. It can act as a guilty pleasure (for those that are wondering, consider somone still dancing to the Spice Girls? I know you're out there...) as physically, and rhythmically, inept people shudder and grind to the beat of their favourite song.

I suppose one should consider whether we have simply become accustomed to utilizing music as a device through which to prompt memory. In other words, its connection to emotion is only through its use as a gateway to a re-experience of a moment in life. The emotion lies in the events, whilst the music simply happened to be playing. This may be a self-defeating question, of course, as one may take the view that the events and the music become inextricably linked, the emotion being dependant upon the music, and vice versa. This could be a rather simplistic view, however, as I think often one can subscribe meaning to a song prior, or subsequent, to the event that is often unclouded by history, and solely based upon emotion. In other words, the terrible break-up is forgotten, and all that is remembered is that beautiful moment when you were actually happy, or, perhaps, miserable. Rose tinted glasses, certainly, but nonetheless the prompt is to a specific moment (usually) or even to a silver-lined period. It may be true to point to the triggering element of music, although I suppose one cannot truly generalize as to the level of importance that each specific song may have for each person. For example, there can be songs that people don't actually listen to during the course of the everyday lives, but in the event that it is played on the radio, it can evoke such strong emotions that are recalled with a smile (or a grimace). But the point is that it can trigger these responses, which one has to believe has something remarkably profound to our sense of self. And furthermore, the event is usually (and if you're an indie kid, it is likely wholly unrelated) to the particular song that you happen to be listening to.

I wonder whether we are sufficiently Pavlovian as to imprint events on the strength of a song playing. The song, at a specific moment, seems to "perfectly embue" a state of mind, a series of events, to the extent that it derives meaning from the events, whilst also conferring meaning. This may be cynical, but the question stands.

In certain respects, I watch with dismay as to how little we actually know about ourselves, and as to how poor our faculty of self-reflection can actually be, but in other respects, it is exciting to consider the possibilities, and to infer as to what still may be revealed. The attraction that music holds for almost everyone is something that remains to be explained, even if only to be run through the gamut of the nature vs nurture debate. I know that there are far better informed persons conducting studies into this precise field, and yet I cannot help but feel that in a manner akin to the neurologist, whilst it is impressive to be able to reduce brain function to chemicals, I am not sure that that totally captures the essence of thought or emotion. Similarly, a psychologist attempting to unpack ideas through reliance solely on a patient's expression, on a certain level, also seems unsatisfying. The fact that people "like" music cannot simply be explained, if in fact at all.

In any event, I shall continue to at least enjoy being transported to simpler times, and jerking and bobbing in my uniquely uncoordinated manner to those specific songs that are near and dear to me. And I can assure you, it isn't the Spice Girls...

Mix Tape 02 - 2010

2010-02-13T01:45:00.000-08:00

Hauschka – Rode Null (Ferndorf : Fat Cat, 2008)
Florence & the Machine – Dog Days Are Over (Lungs : Island, 2009)
Dark Meat – Angel Of Meth (Universal Indians : Orange Twin/Cloud, 2006)
The Low Anthem – Champion Angel (Oh My God, Charlie Darwin : Nonesuch, 2009)
Born Ruffians – Hummingbird (Red, Yellow & Blue : Warp Records, 2008)
Voc Godard & Subway Sect – Double Negative (We Oppose All Rock ‘n Roll – Available at http://theunblinkingear.blogspot.com)
Wire – Oh No Not So (Behind The Curtain: Early Versions 1977 & 78 - Available at http://theunblinkingear.blogspot.com)
The Soft Boys – Insanely Jealous (Underwater Moonlight : Rykodisc, 1980)
Nothing Painted Blue – Career Day (Placeholders : Scat Records, 1994)
Lifter Puller – Space Humping $19.99 (Fiestas + Fiascos : Self-Starter Records, 2000)
Bibio – Ambivalence Avenue (Ambivalence Avenue : Warp Records, 2009)
The xx - Crystalised (XX : XL Recordings, 2009)
The Child Ballads – Cheekbone Hollows (Pop. ½ Life) (Cheekbone Hollows (Pop. ½ Life) [EP] : Gypsy Eyes Records, 2006)
The Felice Brothers – Greatest Show On Earth (The Felice Brothers : Team Love, 2008)
Roadside Graves – Valley (Daytrotter Session 1/8/2010 – Available at www.daytrotter.com)
Vic Chestnutt – Onion Soup (Is The Actor Happy? : Texas Hotel, 1995)
Taken By Trees – Lost And Found (Open Field : Eleven Music Company, 2007)
Horse Feathers – Dustbowl (Words Are Dead : Lucky Madison, 2006)
Will Stratton – Robin And Marian (No Wonder : Stunning Models On Display, 2009)
The Last Town Chorus – Huntsville, 1989 (Wire Waltz : Hacktone Records, 2006)

The Receiver - Length Of Arms (Vital Music Records : 2010)

2010-02-13T01:22:00.000-08:00

The opening track, "Keep the Desert", buzzes into life, a heavily electronic inflected rock song, synths groaning and sawing within the constructs of a loosely defined rock sound. It is with some chagrin that the buzz is that the 80's have returned- they have indeed- which does not bode well for those of us exposed to the mainstream, but perhaps it does portend good things for the indie community. Possibly.

Intriguely though, this album flirts with the electronic world, filling out each of their songs with a variety of synths that are at once vaguely alien, but mixed into chiming piano and twinkling electronics to create this strange sense of distant comfort. It evokes a very early 80's approach to indie, in that these are not the sugar rush electronics that were synonymous with that era, but rather focusing more on the lush strangeness that was so predominant in that pioneering underground scene. But, and this is, if nothing else, remarkably astute, the Receiver have married this predelection for electronics to a meat and gristle of guitar and drums. This is, at heart, a band, even if they are more interested in the atmospherics of many of their New York contemporaries as opposed to writing sing-along songs, mass-crafted for the ears of in the "new" indie crowd. And although the surrounding instrumentation reminds me somewhat of a early 80's approach, do not mistake me. This is very much a band of this moment in time, and one that fits neatly into the lexicon of the new decade.

And the band have some pop chops, knocking in track after track that although they at once seem distant, and internalized, they are cultivated towards the radio friendly sensibilities enjoyed by many of the indie brethren. The band display a knack for creating pretty songs- I shall be astonished if something like "Visitor" or "Intervals" is not snapped up by some savvy TV show, looking to promote their credibility through relatively new artists. Of course, the criticism will likely be levelled that this band are just not weird enough to garner the raving attentions of the critical powers that be, and, in fairness, there is something familiar about this group- a sort of New York indie take on someone like the Electric Soft Parade, or akin to what Postal Service might have been had they allied their vision with Death Cab for Cutie, as opposed to Dntel.

But having said this, I find this album to be a rather better photograph of many of the bands of the internet age- bands such as Someone Still Loves You, Boris Yeltsin or Bishop Allen, beloved by many in the internet world, and yet, for most, unable to really break through into a more critical world. The latter bands are too often criticised as being derivative, and thus only a surface level approximation of the modern age of "indie rock". They do not appeal to the heavy indie fans (obsessed, generally, with the extremes of indie rock) but at the same time, lacking appeal to the more mainstream. The Receiver take the upbeat sensibilities of song structure embodied by many of these artists, but emphasise the use of modern electronics and space. They have studiously observed the sense of alien distance, mastered by artists such as the Walkmen, Radiohead, or Sigur Ros, but taken that idea into the realm of modern indie song, to create something that hovers between the electronic, pop rock, and post rock. It is an interesting mix, especially considering how strong their pop sensibilities are.

This is a band just waiting to happen. In the event that nothing comes of this album, I would imagine that the momentum being gained should bring them out into the limelight before

White Denim - Fits (Full Time Hobby : 2009)

2010-02-13T01:09:00.000-08:00

White Denim have their critics. Their brand of loose tempo and negotiable song structure has irritated many a critic who has attempted to put a finger on what this Texan trio are actually doing. They emerged to critical, and cult, fame on the strength of their second release, Explosion, and although many are still waiting to see if any can successfully impose some coherence to them (without sacrificing their core sound) at the same time, there are certainly many who are slavering at the potential on display. The band display a wiry tendency to rollick all over the musical landscape, showing off like a child in need of Ritalin within the confines of the sort of early 70's rock and roll that they are clearly so enamored by.

Fits is their third album, and although the band are still very much displaying the tics that made their name, this is not an attempt to recapture the soul of their previous album. Fits adopts a far more muscular approach, delving deep into the realms of the heavy rock of the late 60's and early 70's, and holding it together with a heavy dose of psychedelia. It is an understandable criticism that there is a lot that is going on with this band- they borrow happily from pretty much anything they can lay their hands on, displaying hippy tendencies all over the place in the mold of Byrds of later years, or even the sort of freak-outs of artists like the Grateful Dead or even early Pink Floyd.

The band twitch, and shake with their brand of revivalist rock, although to label them as "plagiarists" would be immensely unfair. They are another band that have joined the crew of 70's hard rock worshippers, but they display more sense of self that the over-self indulgent Mars Volta, but without succumbing to the riff heavy rock of Black Mountain. They sit somewhere in the middle, blissing out to the sounds of their own noise, whilst often (and without warning) exploding into some howling frenzy of skittering drums, rumbling bass and distorted guitar. But the band quickly devolves into the realm of psychedelia, relinquishing the grip of the early part of the album that is vintage hard rock (sort of...as much as it can be in the style of White Denim).

It is fair to point out, however, that the restlessness of the band doesn't always work to their advantage, and this album is no exception. The band covers a lot of ground here, and as a result, it can feel uneven. The hard rock openers are replaced quickly by more trippy psychedelia, before the acoustic strum of Paint Yourself comes in, and then band skitter on the ice on I'd Have It Just The Way We Were, sitting somewhere in the sort of Latin influenced psychedelia of someone like, say, Santana.

Personally, although I like this album, somehow, I prefer the more ramshackle charm of Explosion. The latter album eschews the psychedelic bent for a more jam band territory, marrying the hyperactive tendencies of the band to earlier blues rock territory. There is something like a drunken focus to Explosion that is missing from the far more professional, and grandiose Fits. Is this to say Fits is not worth a listen? Certainly not, as it definitely is. But it does display some growing pains of a band suddenly faced with the prospect of a career, replete with uncertainty as to what that means. The songs are bigger, more fully fleshed out, and yet displaying all the youthful uncertainty as to their own sound, and creative vision. But the potential is very much there, and that is certainly not something to be taken lightly.

With apologies to Will Stratton

2010-01-23T05:35:00.000-08:00

It was with some dismay that I discovered in my review of Will Stratton’s latest album that I had succeeded in utterly misrepresenting myself and the base view which I was attempting to bring across. Language is a tricky mistress, at the best of times, and I often wonder as to the extent that we are properly able to express ourselves and our lines of thought, especially considering the modern lives that we lead. Gone are the days when a treasured letter would take months to arrive at its desired recipient, and the consequent thought and care which all too often went into the writing thereof. It also calls to mind one of my prouder moments- although, with a wince, given the latest occurrence- when an essay I had constructed for a university course was returned to me with the comment that although the professor had not really understood it, she thought it was rather good! This, of course, only served to prompt me to wonder whether I had understood it either...

In any event, perhaps now is an opportune moment to embark on a discourse on an aspect of the modern music industry that is a source of great concern to me. The trends of indie music are well documented, together with the fears, tantrums and various other problems, real or apparent, which have garnered far too much electronic space. The contributing voices are numerous, and often more counter-productive than anything else (and I don’t discount myself here) but I have recently begun to subscribe to the view that perhaps it is better to discuss, and question everything, in the hope that something constructive emerges as opposed to merely sitting back and allowing events to simply occur. The pronouncements of a later Green Gartside would disagree with me, but there it is.

The words of an acquaintance of mine have rung loud in my ears for the past few weeks when the opinion was voiced that there is just too much music out there for any of us to ever consider getting a handle on it. It may sound trite, but if one considers that the quantities of music that the modern fan often have stored on their computers, and various portable hard-drives (and I would include an iPod in this), one realises that we have now become accustomed to an unprecedented access to music. The days of the obsessive music nerd, whilst still very much prevalent and alive, has undergone a slight career change in the sense that they are now often defined by knowledge as opposed to actual physical collection. The previous stereotype often depicted is that of a sort of pack-rat, who filled every available space with CD’s, LP’s and various other musically associated accoutrements, amassing vast quantities of obscure and collectable items. Nowawadays, with the ease with which music is available and can be stored, many of us now have similarly vast collections, and yet, perhaps, not quite as an encyclopaedic mania as to the contents thereof. The music nerd is now the one that can speak knowledgeably on any number of bands, their origins, albums, and whatever else may be of interest, but, interestingly, not necessarily having heard the music itself.

I merely point this out, however, as a precursor to my actual point, which is that in this modern day and age we seem to have become consumers of music as opposed to purveyors. It was always strange to me to consider the output of those early artists of the pop age, for example, the Beatles, who were expected to put out numerous singles and albums every year. This seems foreign to those of us that are members of the 80's and 90's generation, wherein the industry norm was two, or even three, years. Nowadays, the artists are being asked to record a variety of, in my opinion, gimmicky releases as a means of encouraging the fans to buy their music. I can perfectly understand, and be pleased, by the return of the LP, and the growing numbers by which they are being sold. It cannot be denied that there is a difference in sound between an LP and a CD, and there is also something to be said for the packaging, and perhaps even the element of impermanence that the disc has. They will not last forever, and they need to be cared for. In a way, it is just promoting the aura of value of the item. But where my problem does lie is that the emphasis has begun to subtly change to emphasis on the item, as opposed to what is actually contained on it. Is this a diatribe on the value of the mp3? To the contrary, no. There is a tension that has now arisen between the subtle alteration of the purpose of the physical medium by which music is transported, and the arising attitude that people should now be entitled to music, as of right. In other words, by demanding mp3's, many are now accustomed to a lower quality, throwaway medium that too often is listened on poor quality speakers, and amassed in enormous quantities, with little attention actually spared to it. On the other hand, the attitude is that CD’s (or LP’s) are now expensive, and as a result, something that one should be compelled to buy, as opposed to desire.

It is banal to state that trends and attitudes are in a constant state of flux, and hence the development of technology necessarily must have an effect. But if one takes into consideration the various studies that are now starting to come to light that warn of the alteration of the brain and the manner in which people are now beginning to think and work, it becomes of concern as to how this will affect those traditional arts such as music and literature. If it is accepted that the development of the internet has led to the concept of a modern human that is wired to scan and digest large quantities of information, at the expense of the concentration span, then consider the ramifications for the manner in which we listen to music.

To briefly divert, of course, I am aware that my opinion is all too obvious by the very nature of this essay- I seem to have flaunted every rule concerning garnering traffic as I concern myself with long paragraphs and variously uninteresting topics, and whatever else I happen upon for my own edification. And the traffic hereon reflects accordingly.

The point is that if we are now developing, as a species (and I speak in the most general of terms), to a manner of living in which we demand a constant movement in variety of entertainment, the attitude develops that music is something of need. It is a necessity for daily function, and not because we are actually listening to it, as we tend to do any number of other things at the same time, unable to concentrate upon one thing for any given length of time, but rather because we simply need the noise. Suddenly, the idea of Peter Pan losing his shadow, or someone being afraid of theirs, is not such a far-fetched idea. And I am probably not exempt from this, as I insist upon listening to music as a matter of course, even when I know that it will often only negatively affect my performance.

My fear concerns the point at which people stop listening, and focus rather on trying to fulfil an unconscious need to measure and quantify what they are hearing. Artists need to be categorised, and evaluated by their marketability, their sound, and their supposed “credibility”. The question becomes as to how much the album will sell, whether your friends will like it, can one play it at a party, without ever stopping to simply say, “Do I like it?”. The latter is an intangible judgment, which is entirely predisposed by who you are, and can be made only by you. Of course, it would be naive to say that people are not influenced by pronouncements of friends and peers, as, let’s face it, we are not far removed from the playground when it comes to music. And, furthermore, we all certainly do place an album within a lexicon of whether we should play it for friends, talk about it, or keep it as a private treasure. The value judgment on how one assigns enjoyment in music is something I remain intrigued by, but it is certainly far beyond the scope of my point here.

In a world of one-upmanship, with little attention being spared to quality, merely quantity, it is tragic to consider that the fundamental question on whether we actually like the music seems to be discarded. And, to be brutally honest, there are fewer more obvious chinks to one’s armour than one’s taste in music. For a person to tell an indie, or metal fan, that they enjoy the work of Cyndi Lauper or Britney Spears, well, it is fairly likely they are not going to get along. In a utopia, one could decry that form of hasty, prima facie rejection, but the truth of it (as a generalization) can hardly be questioned.

I could be accused of fear-mongering and decrying some illusionary stigma that is in fact simply a subtle shift in listening habits, and the thought had crossed my mind as to how one makes allowance for those people that subsist entirely upon mix-tapes and, similarly, the radio. In other words, there is little interest in the album, as opposed to the specific track that has piqued the listener’s interest. I firmly believe that there is an art to properly constructing a good mix-tape, which is largely dependent upon the mixer’s knowledge and their ability to properly guide the listener through the songs. It is for this reason that whenever I make a mix-tape, it is constructed with a specific someone in mind. But, similarly, the same listener is, perhaps, one who will enjoy the radio, as a constant source of a variety of music (I leave aside any comment about the quality of radio being a factor). Is this then not the solution to my complaint- to say only that the age of the single has once again arisen, and people are moving away from the idea of an album that has enjoyed some degree of prominence since roughly the late 60's?

There is an increasing tendency amongst people to utilise the iPod shuffle service in their daily routine, as opposed to consciously picking an album with regard to mood. It could be that this behaviour reflects the manner in which we have become accustomed to acquiring knowledge and entertaining ourselves. It calls to mind the recent pronouncement by Radiohead that the “album” is dead, and that the future will lie in the world of singles. Of course, the band are presently reported as being in the studio, and are infamous for their difficulties they have encountered in recording. But I do think that they have, once again, expressed an opinion which is not uncommon amongst many fans and musicians.

I suspect that my fear truly lies in the idea that people will no longer be able to properly process the album, and as a result, will force artists to alter their work and output accordingly. As to how apparent this fear is, remains to be seen. But too often people acquire literally thousands of songs in a single download, and face the situation of endlessly flicking from one album to the next, without ever really processing, or properly listening to, it. One has to wonder how much good music is being casually cast to the side, as being “too similar”, on first impression, to something else, and accordingly labelled and forgotten. People begin to think that in amongst the “chaos”, as it were, in terms of how successful an album will be, as opposed to whether they actually like it at all. It becomes a game played on a flow-chart, with everyone trying to outdo the other in predicting the next “big thing”- the focus becomes solely on extraneous factors that have little to do with the music at all.

The evaluation of music, and our relation to it, has been fundamentally altered by the progression of time and technology. I try to never lose sight of the fact that, for some, music simply does not mean that much, and although they enjoy it, they are not particularly interested in amassing any form of collection, or to learn anything of the artists. I do not argue against that, or even that people should care in the slightest. But, I do believe that there is a legitimate worry in the idea that those people that truly do love music, lose sight of that fact, and rather thrust their views on the world, without ever really having taken the time to appreciate it. The confrontation of thousands of artists and albums of whom one has never heard is daunting, and a task that requires significant patience. It becomes an exercise in temptation and perseverance as one tries to stop oneself from the habit of hurriedly flicking through TV channels, or a variety of web-sites, gaining a snapshot here and there, without ever really hearing anything at all.

I leave aside those professional music reviewers who are confronted daily with this problem, and are expected to meet deadlines, and produce work that is an adequate reflection of what has been listened to. Whilst I am sure there are certain systems in place to assist with certain of the problems that I have raised, it, I believe, constitutes a specific example of what I am speaking of, with its own shortcomings and advantages, which I do not have sufficient knowledge to really speak on.

At no point would I ever be foolish enough to advocate dramatic change, or insist upon the dismantling of the habits that technology has instilled in us, but I would hope that to at least have an awareness of it would be sufficient to make one slightly more cautious on the pitfalls of an intake of a huge quantity of music in one go. Many albums, and especially in the realm of indie, require some listening, and some investment before they properly reveal themselves to the listener. I would hope that people recognise the need to start actually listening to music again, and make reasoned decisions- some music needs to breath outside of the confines of the earphone, or the poor quality of computer speakers. And above all, take the occasional opportunity to listen to it for what it is, as opposed to just a rhythmic beat that is good for getting your heart-rate up in the gym.

And once more into the breach...

2010-01-03T02:17:00.000-08:00

It is fairly astonishing to find myself breaching the third year of the existence of “Nobody’s Business But My Own”, and although I cannot claim any particular success or growth of readership, in truth, that never really was the endeavour in the first place. It recalls to mind the words of Susan Sontag, who noted in her journal:

In the journal I do not just express myself more openly than I could do to any person; I create myself.

The journal is a vehicle for my sense of selfhood. It represents me as emotionally and spiritually independent. Therefore (alas) it does not simply record my actual, daily life but rather—in many cases—offers an alternative to it.

There is often a contradiction between the meaning of our actions toward a person and what we say we feel toward that person in a journal. But this does not mean that what we do is shallow, and only what we confess to ourselves is deep.

The year 2010, hopefully, shall prove to be one of many challenges, and opportunity, both in the world of music, and love and life. The music world appears to be in a slight state of flux, as an increasing number of commentators appear to leap upon the popularity that indie music is enjoying of late. The rallying cry is one of disillusionment as indie becomes something for “the cool kids”- an anathema to the original conception.

Truthfully, indie nerds were never meant to be cool, being too obsessive, internalised, and generally incompetent in the social sphere. The disconcerting inability to function properly within the mainstream is expressed only in the weirdness of indie music, and the consequent obscurity of the artists. It was originally music made by fans of the strange, and appreciated only by those similarly afflicted. This, at least, is my rather romantic conception of the indie kid, so perhaps, I can be excused the melodrama.

But the truth of the latter is possibly irrelevant, as although indie music is enjoying an unprecedented prominence in movies and television shows, it is still, for the most part, there to be discovered, as opposed to actively being promoted. The CD’s remain expensive and hard to come by (at least in this country), and the truly knowledgeable indie fans remain elusive. Many are content to be the receptacles of the music, as opposed to the evangelist, and although this is encouraging, in a sense, for the indie nerd, it remains difficult to understand how it is that so many people can recognise the song, and, yet, not know the name of the song, or the artist.

I whine, unnecessarily, of course, and I think the point has been made sufficiently by many more eloquent. But I perceive a curious trend seems to have arisen of late in which there is an element of abandonment of the modern indie acts in favour of the godfathers of indie music. The early bands upon whom Rough Trade became one of the most prominent indie labels in the world, and the catalyst to many a then burgeoning indie musician. Certainly, I find myself doing precisely this, snatching greedily at the reissue of the Feelies seminal debut album, and the re-emergence of other artists such as the Young Marble Giants, and the Minutemen. It is true to say that these artists were always around (as, what is not in the world of p2p?) but they were the exclusive secret of those collectors who are intrigued by looking at the bottom of the trash heap.

The obsessive, in other words, but it is deeply encouraging to see that these artists are being given the long overdue exposure in the plethora of remastered albums, and available reissues. These albums are available (or some of them, at least) and I, for one, cannot be happier. I marvel at the Wire’s Pink Flag, or hearing the abrasive Teenage Jesus & the Jerks, and being able to place their influence on the explosion of shit-gaze that has plagued us for the past year. Thank goodness there is at last a backboard for those of us that find ourselves drowning in the flood of the "indie sound".

I shall be curious to see whether this trend continues, and whether the current artists pick up on an element of dissatisfaction (real, or apparent) that some in the indie community are starting debate. I think it is true to say that many are disgruntled that their beloved indie rock has become as prominent as it has, and I for one, shall continue to express my feelings on the inclusion of indie alumni on the New Moon soundtrack. Brilliant for the artists as it is the ultimate advertisement, and yet, somehow, I also cannot shake the feeling that the music itself was never designed to appeal on that level. There is an element of irony at play, as was noted amongst the early indie artists- it is music of students, intellectual, mood-driven, and usually just plain difficult. It was written for reasons other than simply to appeal to the masses, and in fact, most of it, is unpalatable for public performance.

The headlining of artists then should not work, unless the artists begin to adapt their sound to appeal to a more “radio-friendly” audience. The death knell, in other words, of the musician in the eyes of indie community. I for one, have already begun to feel abandoned by certain of my earlier favourites, and although I cannot hold their success against them, I fear I shall continue to reach only for those early releases that I hold so close to my heart. I sincerely hope that time, and the artists, prove me wrong in this regard.

It has often been noted that, once again, the pendulum that is popular culture has swung back to a re-enactment of the Eighties (God help us all…) I have been watching this rising trend with growing despair, and railing against even the mere thought of a return to that awful neon plastic decade. The cultural void. But, perhaps, it is a signal to take solace in the strangeness, and unapologetic weirdness of some of the early indie artists, whilst the popular world, once again, collapses around us.

But, and I must concede this, it was pointed out to me recently that there is just so much music out there at the moment, that it is simply impossible to truly grasp much of it. So often, unbelievable releases go unnoticed as one simply does not have the time, the resources, or even the awareness to know otherwise. I am certainly guilty of relying heavily on certain sources, as many blogs trumpet what are, quite frankly, very mediocre releases, even if they can be excused for promoting their local artists. But, at the same time, those great artists are there, waiting to be discovered, and I cannot help but love listening to new music.

The library of albums is vast, and I had to smile at a friend’s recent lament that if only he had a time machine, and he could go back and buy all those old albums that are now so expensive to obtain! If only, indeed.

So here is to 2010, I shall be watching with interest. And, of course, noting the odd musing, to, hopefully, an increased readership. I am not holding my breath though!

Mix Tape 01 - 2010

2010-01-03T02:11:00.000-08:00

I happen to have been watching far too many movies of late, so some seem to have slipped into my consciousness. Of course, dear reader, you are invited to name some of the movies in which some (or a number…!) of these songs were featured- although to look it up would be cheating…I fear I may be betraying certain mainstream leanings, but if the exercise is to spread the word, well, visuals are unusually effective!

Florence & the Machine- Kiss With A Fist (Lungs : Island, 2009)
The Promise Ring- Why Did We Ever Meet (Nothing Feels Good : Jade Tree, 1997)
Screeching Weasel- I Can See Clearly Now (My Brain Hurts : Lookout!, 1991)
Jawbox- Cooling Card (For Your Own Special Sweetheart :Atlantic/DeSoto, 1994)
Army Navy- Life Of Lies (B-side : Available online)
The Airborne Toxic Event- Wishing Well (The Airborne Toxic Event : Island, 2007)
Pants Yell- A New City Life (Alison Statton : Soft Abuse, 2008)
Comet Gain- If I Had A Soul (Broken Record Prayers : What’s Your Rupture?, 2009)
Viva Voce- Drown Them Out (Get Yr Blood Sucked Out : Barsuk, 2006)
Heavy Trash- The Hump (Heavy Trash : Yep Roc, 2005)
Spider Bags- Long White Desert Rose (Goodbye Cruel World, Hello Crueller World : Birdman, 2009)
King Khan & BBQ Show- I’ll Be Lovin’ You (Invisible Girl : In The Red, 2009)
White Denim- Paint Yourself (Fits : Full Time Hobby, 2009)
Bound Stems- Winston (Family Afloat : Flameshovel, 2008)
Megafaun- The Fade (Gather Form & Fly : Hometapes, 2009)
A.A. Bondy- Rapture (Sweet Rapture) (American Hearts : Superphonic, 2007)
Holopaw- Little Stallion With A Glass Jaw (Oh, Glory. Oh, Wilderness : Bakery, 2009)
Alec Ounsworth- Me And You, Watson (Mo Beauty : Ant-, 2009)
Dinosaur Jr.- See You (Plans : Jagjaguwar, 2009)

Will Stratton - No Wonder (Stunning Models On Display, 2009)

2010-01-03T02:05:00.000-08:00

It is with some distress that I have to concede that first impressions have become an all but fatal test for many musicians of today. The culture of file sharing has a deep-rooted flaw of over-abundance which has the ramification that it is only those albums that are immediately striking, or in some or other way explode with some sort of flamboyance, that tend to reach the ears of listeners. The act of sharing thousands of files necessarily means that it is too often that good albums get neglected, and as a result, our consumerist attitude to music is affecting our manner in which think about it.

The question becomes as to how one comes to hear of artists in a world that is over-saturated, and where too many amateur musicians, and fans, unleash their opinions on the world. It remains a fact that it is very hard to be noticed in the world of indie rock these days. Millions of artists vying for our attention, asking questions through a myriad of genres, all trying to work out why one artist is more successful, or prominent, than another in the musical mis-en-scene. Meanwhile, we, the fans, just make it all the more difficult as we argue incessantly on matters of taste, and forget why it is that we actually love music in the first place.

It is a serious problem, equally, that confronts many a fan of today, as ultimately, how is that the fan can acquire the knowledge to allow the artists to be heard? The traditional forms of dissemination are beset with problems, and it is too often that people are hastily judgmental, greedily snatching at too much music to properly process.

But to those amongst that do get an opportunity to listen to “No Wonder”, from the outset, I suppose that it is only fair to point out that this album is, perhaps, guilty of carrying a number of the tags that prompted the current fuss over indie music. The movement that started with the Shins’ “Oh, Inverted World”- a plethora of hushed folk that is interspersed with pretty, melancholy songs that the cliche demands be doomed to appeal to those miserable twenty-somethings (generally guys) that are struggling to find their place in the world of today.

However, with this starting point made, and properly returned to the background, one need turn one’s attention to album itself. Even on a decent first listening, it immediately becomes apparent that flourishes of strings and sounds hint at a greater depth at work. This is not as straight forward an album as one may initially think, as should immediately become evident by the impact of the groaning horns and swaying strings on the opening track. “No Wonder” is aimed more at a synergy with the Brendan Benson’s and Ben Kweller’s of this world- the folk is tempered by the sense that this may be the album of an artist that has played the rock merry-go-round, and is now looking for something a little quieter, and more introspective. To draw the analogy, this gives me the sense that it may be the Eric Bachmann to Archers of Loaf. The album has strong hints of early 90’s music in its approach to guitar and song-writing, and it is a suitable foil to the helpless melancholy of all those single guys out there that find themselves confused and at a loose end in this particular time of their lives.

I have to concede that my faculty for picking up references is fairly poor, and this shortcoming usually serves only to drive me to distraction until I can name the voices in my head. A source, certainly, is the manner in which Stratton sings. He has a very retiring vocal style that he uses specifically within its range. A vocal tic that is not uncommon in a number of artists, and it is pleasant, but not particularly remarkable. In fact, I hear something of Mark Kozelek in some of the songs, whose album “Ghosts of the Great Highway” is indispensable. And then, that fades, and suddenly there are suggestions of M. Ward (especially on the ‘The Past Always Runs Faster”...) But this is a minor gripe, as I think what has actually attracted me to “No Wonder” is the strength of the songs. They are fully realised, with carefully placed sounds and guitar work that create a sonic work that is not crowded, but at the same time, filling and colouring what could potentially be an otherwise sparse song. To give the impression that this release resides only in the realm of gentle folk, however, would be to do it a disservice, as the tracks slowly pick up tempo, exposing the growl of electric guitar, and culminating in “If Only”, as much of a rocker as Stratton is going to deliver.

In fact, the best way to think of this release is that it begins with its gentle folk overtones- hushed songs that hint at something more with its subtle instrumentation, delicately emphasizing Stratton’s core of voice and acoustic guitar. But as the album progresses, the pace quickens, and the songs strengthen- almost as if Stratton is growing in confidence with each track. There is strength of songwriting on display here, and confidence with which he is able to adapt to the demands of the modern indie rock album. The beautiful “Robin and Marian” with its throbbing drum beat, and cast off instruments that punctuate the lyrics, is almost the centre-piece of the album, albeit that it is all but the last track. The combination of a nod to the Boss in the lyrics, and the lumbering beat entwine perfectly to emphasise the causal entrancing beauty of the track.

With great choice, comes great opinion, as many artists are probably finding to their dismay. We all have something to say, which I have to admit, will probably work only to our detriment. This is a strong album, and I know it is likely to properly ensconce itself in my heart before long. The manner in which music comes to our attention is a question that has recently piqued my interest, and the manner in which artists are able to get their music out into the world. I have to admit that I had never previously heard of Will Stratton, and sadly, I know that I would likely have had little opportunity otherwise to hear his work. It makes one wonder as to how much music is slipping by the way as opinionated reviewers, and hasty first impressions, take their toll. But in any event, this question can remain academic in the case of this album, as I did get an opportunity to listen to it- something that I remain rather pleased by.

Nothing Painted Blue - Placeholders (Scat, 1994)

2010-01-03T01:50:00.000-08:00

There is nothing quite like a glut of new releases to prompt the lazy self to reach into the indie past to uncover old favourites. Admittedly, I am guilty of doing this, and as much as I try and broaden my musical education, sometimes those inherent limitations mean that certain albums get forgotten and not researched.

I have also begun to find myself looking to old indie albums, searching for those originators that prompted the current buzz. I want to hear something different, back when people were truly making music just for the sake of it, as opposed to the machine we appear to be dealing with today. This is perhaps over-critical, but sometimes I get that gnawing feeling that I am being played for the fool. I curse Nitsuh Adebe for perfectly expressing my own opinions at this particular moment in time. There is nothing quite like another to crystallize one’s own feelings, or to even make one realise that those opinions are there but unexpressed.

And so I have embarked upon many of those old classics that are spoken with reverence today- My Bloody Valentine, Minutemen, The Soft Boys, the Jesus Lizard, and whatever else I can lay my hands on. I find it immensely curious that there is any number of these seminal artists that many indie fans today can name, and yet few seem to have actually listened to. The influence of the Velvet Underground is broadly acknowledged, and yet they remain “that” band that is around but not present. I see that the Smiths are making a welcome return to the spotlight, albeit indirectly, as the indie-pop, and variously melancholic c-86 derivatives make their presence felt. I was astonished that the Soft Boys appear to have slipped so dramatically from the lips of so many, especially as I found myself stocking up in the record store, only to realise that I was clutching an exclusive selection of Matador artists.

In any event, I have heard of Franklin Bruno as a solo artist, although I cannot say that I am overly familiar with his work. Of course, I now note that Mr. Adebe was the reviewer of one of his more recent solo efforts, which may explain some of my thinking here. In any event, I decided that perhaps some further digging was necessary which led me on to Nothing Painted Blue and their 1994 release Placeholders.

I have to concede a certain soft spot for power pop, although I find that as much as I may occasionally indulge in it, I also find it sugary and hence saccharine after a while. In other words, it is nice for the moment, but equally also needs to be put away. At times, I suspect this may be true of this album, but one has to grapple with the thought that it may be something more. Mr. Bruno has a degree in mathematics and now operates as a philosophy professor, so the reputation that this band had as being the darling of the collegiate masses is well made. He is no fool, and it is a fact that he takes pride in his music. His lyrics are clever and off-beat, revealing a grasp of language and unusual ability to associate words.

Yet the album retains a slacker charm befitting its release in the early 90’s. This is not a band, frankly, that will have a big audience, and yet it is the sort that ignites the passionate fan. The opening track “Couldn’t Be Simpler” opens with a grungy riff, and grumbling bass, that, quite frankly, dates itself. But as soon as one considers having a grip on the band, barely a minute and a half in, they break into twinkling guitars- a non-sequiter worthy of Pavement, before further deconstructing into a pounding acoustic strum, and then back into the noise of the opening. The straightforward song suddenly becomes something far more, and it is a pattern that is echoed throughout the album, although no other song contains as dramatic a shift change.

Franklin Bruno also cannot be said to have a particularly dramatic voice, and it sits somewhere as an educated Malkmus’, with some of his charm, and yet with better diction and a less convoluted mind. His lyrics are the highlight, however, and I suspect it will be one of those albums that the longer one sits with it, the more the occasional lyric will slip into the consciousness. But then again, music from this period of time will always have a very soft spot in my heart, and although others may disagree, this smart college rock is something which I hope history will continue to be kind to. I believe it is essential to broaden one’s horizons, and investigate the true forefathers of indie, but perhaps I should acknowledge that the music of this time will always remain my true port of call.