|
|
|
|
THIS WEEK'S FINDS THIS WEEK'S FINDS July 15, 2009 "I'm Turning Into You" - Wheels On Fire There's something about the summertime that makes this sort of driving, garage-y stomper, complete with wheezing keyboards, the perfect soundtrack for warm breezes and open car windows. (And for anyone roughly in the neighborhood, what about a big shout-out for the amazing summer weather we've been having in the mid-Atlantic so far? The nicest I can possibly imagine for July: warm blue days, cool starry nights, no air conditioning necessary.) Front and center in the song--the first thing you hear, and what the song is framed on--is an urgent, unadorned guitar riff: five tinny chords, strummed in a relentless rhythm: one; two; three; four-five. The beauty of the great guitar riffs is that they can kind of resemble each other--this one concludes in "Sweet Jane" territory--even while banging out their own piece of the rock'n'roll rock, as it were. A great riff doesn't have to be surprising, as a great melody must at some level be, and yet it can't be nondescript either. Rhythm and chord placement is everything; the effect is more primal than intellectual (think "You Really Got Me"; think "Roadrunner"; think "Alex Chilton"). This one rocks, which is all it's trying to do, and all it needs to do on another ideal July day. Wheels On Fire is a four-piece from Athens, Ohio. You'll find "I'm Turning Into You" on the CD Get Famous, which was released back in February on Big Legal Mess Records, a label with a distribution deal with Fat Possum Records. MP3 via Big Legal Mess. "Wonderland" - the Mummers A waltzing, carnivalesque intro segues into some smooth, orchestral retro-pop that owes a bit to Burt Bacharach, a bit to Kurt Weill, and a bit to our century's relentless urge to mix and mash sounds into ear-catching concoctions. To me, "Wonderland" separates itself from a lot of the more disposable contrivances crowding the internet in our music-happy day and age via its rare combination of sweetness and sturdiness. The melodies are expansive and velvety, the arrangements unexpectedly thoughtful, even articulate. The bright-toned singer and multi-cultural multi-instrumentalist Raissa Khan-Panni, who flitted through a semi-successful solo career in the UK at the outset of the millennium, here manages at once to command center stage and to work as merely one of an idiosyncratic ensemble of musicians bowing and pumping out this breezy but slightly mysterious keeper. A whole different kind of summer song, this one is, from the Wheels On Fire track above, but a delightful summer song it nonetheless remains. The Mummers are an ever-changing array of 20-some-odd musicians, based in Brighton. "Wonderland" is a song from the band's debut full-length disc, Tale to Tell (Republic of Music/Universal), which was released in either April or June. (The internet is sometimes a contradictory place, information-wise.) MP3 via Fresh Deer Meat. "I Wonder Who We Are" - the Clientele With an echo of the cheerful old Aztec Camera song, "Oblivious," in the air here, what do you know, we've got yet another summery delight on our hands. At least, seemingly. "I Wonder Who We Are" is an upbeat song with an ostensibly carefree, kicking-around kind of vibe, and yet between the open chords, pensive vocals, and central role of acoustic instruments (guitar, violin, piano), there's a reserve bordering on melancholy that I'm hearing despite the surface-level peppiness. And sure, lead singer Alasdair MacLean is offering those airy "ba-ba-ba-ba-ba"s but they keep leading to that recurring, rather poignant question: "I wonder who we are?" So I for one am not surprised by the 20-second pause at 3:06 when everything clears away, the chugging rhythm disappears, and we're left with a bit of forlorn but lovely guitar noodling. Soon enough the "ba-ba"s come back, toes resume tapping, but I'm left with a feeling that we are being invited to ponder something the typical summer song doesn't usually get tangled up with. The Clientele are a London-based quartet with a recording history dating back to 2000. "I Wonder Who We Are" will be found on the band's fifth album, Bonfires on the Heath, slated for a September release on Merge Records. MP3 via Merge. THIS WEEK'S FINDS July 28, 2009 "Here to Fall" - Yo La Tengo Half of the time I love what Yo La Tengo does, half the time I'm not sure I understand it. This falls squarely into the first half. After its odd, electro-echoey intro, "Here to Fall" simmers with that paradoxical low-level intensity that YLT consistently brings to the studio--a product, in part, of the juxtaposition of Ira Kaplan's plainspoken, softspoken vocals and the churning noise the trio can produce. And yet the noise here isn't really that noisy, featuring as it does, right in the middle of the mix, the unlikely but thoroughly agreeable addition of a small string section, which somehow brings to mind the sorts of strings we used to hear on old Elton John songs (Paul Buckmaster fans out there, anyone?). But don't overlook the guitar work, which is characteristically crazy brilliant without calling any attention to itself. And don't overlook the additional crazy brilliance of the unadorned melody, barely differentiating verse and chorus, which, cycling inexorably forward, attains a dark grandeur as the guitars burn and the strings melodramatize around it. "Here to Fall" is a song from the band's forthcoming album, Popular Songs (their twelfth), which is slated for a September release on Matador Records. MP3 via Matador. "Tammie" - the Dø So go ahead and listen to this song. Shrug and put it aside for two weeks or so. Listen to it again. Go: "Hm. I actually kind of like this! A lot, even." Well okay, you don't have to do any of that, but that's surely what I did. Listening to music can be a flitty and unpredictable affair. So, "Tammie": kitchen-sink indie pop, sweetly nutty, with the large-scale energy of the Arcade Fire school of 21st-century rock, but achieved instead via a stripped-down, organic vibe driven by hand-claps and odd vocalizations and peopled by a simple (but multinational) duo--French/Finnish Olivia Merilahti and the Parisian Dan Levy. Where the song takes off, for me, is here: when the insistent, twice-repeated minor-key melodic lines of the verse resolve in the third iteration (first heard around 0:41)--such a smooth and unexpected chord slips in right there in the middle of all the staccato insistence. Check out the next time this comes up, with those invigorating harmonies (1:24, but keep listening). Another wonderful moment is when the repeated chant of the bridge, with all its percussive drive, morphs (1:47) into an orchestral interlude, featuring an enticing influx of woodwind-like sounds. The Dø is pronounced like the first note of the scale ("'do' a deer," etc.)--even though the "ø" (in languages that use it) is actually pronounced more like the "u" in "hurt." And while the word "dø" means "die" in Danish and Norwegian, the band says the name comes simply from combining the letters of their first names. (D'oh!) "Tammie" can be found on their debut CD, A Mouthful, which was originally released last year in Europe, and given an American release this month on Get Down Records. "Blanchard" - Hope Sandoval & the Warm Inventions Fronting the '90s band Mazzy Star, Hope Sandoval--she with the gauzy, achy, reverb-drenched vocals--made a much larger impact on music fans of a certain age (and gender) than the band's status as a one-hit wonder ("Fade Into You"), not to mention her terminally shy personality, might suggest. The internet is crawling with people who love her, madly. "Blanchard" will not disappoint them, but its graceful allure should extend beyond the hopelessly smitten, as it were. To my ears, Mazzy Star's music blurred into a nebula of echoing, almost debauched gloom too often undisturbed by an actual melody, despite Sandoval's resonant if downbeat charm as a singer. "Blanchard" echoes much of her previous band's aura, but eases off on the druggy haze--the reverb is toned down, the pace less dreary. "Blanchard" shares its ghostly 3/4-time rhythm with "Fade Into You" (itself brighter-sounding than most Mazzy Star songs) but gives us what that well-known tune never did: a chorus with a nuanced but noticeable resolution away from the relentless, open-chorded ambivalence in which the band basked. Sandoval doesn't dwell in the payoff, of course, but the shift at 1:36 is rich and heart-warming. As if, perhaps, to make up for the musical reward, the lyrics at that point become stubbornly unintelligible. While Mazzy Star is still officially intact, it has not released an album since 1996's Among My Swan. Meanwhile, Sandoval began recording with a backing band called the Warm Inventions in 2001; two subsequent EPs were released, rather quietly. "Blanchard" is the lead track from the CD Through the Devil Softly, which is scheduled to be out in September, on Nettwerk Records. MP3 via Stereogum (note: not a direct link). THIS WEEK'S FINDS August 4, 2009 "Gold and Warm" - Bad Veins Propulsive and canny, "Gold and Warm" sneaks a huge, sing-along chorus into a multifaceted piece that sounds very little like standard-issue indie-rock-duo music in an age in which the duo has become oddly commonplace. The dreamy, retro-y orchestral intro is an immediate clue that the song may not unfold as expected. While "Gold and Warm" drives with a determined beat, it also opens itself at various points to more delicate touches, and although singer-songwriter-guitarist-keyboardist Benjamin Davis pushes his voice through something of a Strokes-like filter, he doesn't use that as an excuse to sing monotonously, which is something this particular effect typically encourages. The rich-toned Davis shows me a thing or two about the emotional range that's still possible for a filtered voice, while partner Sebastien Schultz gives the duo the gift of a human drummer, grounding the band's sound in something nuanced and organic, often putting his cymbal work more forward than the drumming in the mix. And then listen to him work the drum kit in the instrumental break that accompanies the instrumental interlude three-quarters of the way into the song (2:46)--that's just some good, old-fashioned drumming the likes of which you might have heard from Ringo way back when: patient, spacious, self-effacing, and effective precisely because it doesn't try to be intricate or show-off-y. "Gold and Warm" is the second track on the Cincinnati-based band's self-titled debut, released last month on Dangerbird Records. MP3 via Spinner. "I Wasn't Her" - the Blueflowers Relaxed, reverb-laced tale of woe from a Detroit-based quintet that's new on the scene but features musicians with a lot of experience, including two--guitarist Tony Hamera and vocalist Kate Hinote (can that be her real name? "High note"?)--who had previously fronted Ether Aura, a dream pop band with a bit of a following in the '90s. Not to sound like a broken record on the matter, but I continue not to understand music culture's relentless focus on newcomers when music itself is so enriched by the background and experience of the players. I don't think musicians can sound simultaneously so laid-back and so compelling without years of playing under their belts. In any case, dream pop is ostensibly out the door this time in favor of an old-fashioned sort of Americana that offers echoes of hard-core country and western in its slo-mo twang and steel-pedal sorrow. And yet I'm hearing in the song's central hook--when Hinote, silkily, sings "You weren't everything that I wanted" in the chorus--something that comes from outside the genre in which the band appears to be operating. That is not by any means a country and western melody, and hearing it here makes me realize rather abruptly that there is in fact a musical place in which C&W and dream pop are not at all far apart, given both genres' love of reverb and dolor. Being so personally against the over-genre-ization of music, I love when the borders grow foggy, and find myself drawn again and again to songs that can't be given a simple genre tag. "I Wasn't Her" can be found on the band's self-released debut album, Watercolor Ghost Town, released in June. MP3 via Last.fm; thanks to the blog Hits in the Car for the head's up. "Meet and Greet" - Slaraffenland The enigmatic Danish art-popsters Slaraffenland return to Fingertips with a brisk, deceptively restless composition that incorporates some of the most delightful and inventive horn charts I've heard in a pop setting, not to mention some gratifyingly precise and rumbly percussion. This is the kind of song that, if you sink into it on its own terms, has you rethinking what a three- or four-minute rock song might be able to do. I don't hear any standard hooks here and yet not for a moment does my attention or spirit sag. And do check out those horns. There's the splendid bit of syncopated layering we hear from them in their first concentrated appearance, from 1:14 to 1:36, but then listen to how they come back in the same extended instrumental section (now 1:48), this time playing in a blurry, sliding/pulsing sort of chorus, and yet still with their own rhythmic integrity. This is extremely wonderful, to my ears. Eccentric, but extremely wonderful. For some interesting notes on the band's name, read the review from the last time they were here. "Meet and Greet" is the lead single from the forthcoming album, We're On Your Side, slated for a September release on the Portland, Ore.-based Hometapes label. THIS WEEK'S FINDS August 12, 2009 "Death to the Storm" - Joe Henry A dusty, deconstructed, slow-motion gospel-blues stomp. I consistently like Joe Henry's music without really knowing why. His songs succeed through atmosphere, maybe, more than anything else, which with Henry involves a canny intermingling of his fuzzy-buzzy baritone--rich and weary in a fin de siècle sort of way--with an idiosyncratic mix of sounds and organic beats. This time around, I'm particularly enjoying Marc Ribot's unmistakable guitar lines, with their dry ghostly twang, which imply a bunch of noise they're not actually making; the subtle interplay of a tinkly piano with a quiet horn of some sort; and the continuous use of drum rolls, on at least two different types of drums, to keep things edgy and forlorn. Each time Henry releases an album, music writers seem to knock themselves out talking about how different it is from his last one but to my ears, everything sounds entirely Joe Henryesque. However different the music may be--and in all honesty I'm not hearing the differences others are hearing--the voice and the warm, intriguing sonic amalgam is a strong constant. If you've liked his stuff in the past, you'll like this; if you like this, go back and check out some of his older things. You'll like them too. "Death to the Storm" is from the album Blood From Stars, to be released next week on Anti Records. MP3 via Spinner. "Sour Milk/Salt Water" - Port O'Brien Strummy, lyrically insistent verses, with double-tracked vocals, alternate with a plaintive chorus, lyrics now moving at half the pace of the music, vocals still double-tracked but now in an almost Neil Young-like upper register. And while the whole thing is pretty simple sounding at one level it's mysteriously compelling at another--both instantly likable and slightly unusual. Or maybe it's not so mysterious, just well-crafted. Even as the lyrics topple out in the mode of a one-note harangue (a la "Subterranean Homesick Blues"), the music actually shifts between two notes, one-half step apart--it starts on a B, goes up to C, then back to B. Check it out and try to focus on how the underlying chords, which go back and forth from major to minor, shift each time just ahead of when the note itself changes. The end result is a wonderful sort of musical sleight of hand, delivering at once the intensity of a one-note verse and the involvement of a melody. The effect is enhanced by the way the song takes advantage of how aurally distinct two chords can be that are built around notes separated by just a half step. Port O'Brien is a quintet from northern California with roots in Alaska as well--founders Van Pierszalowski and Cambria Goodwin spend summers on Kodiak Island, Pierszalowski working on a commercial fishing boat with his father, Goodwin as the town baker. Suddenly the title of the song makes a bit more sense, eh? "Sour Milk/Salt Water" will be found on the album Threadbare, the band's second full-length, due out in October on TBD Records. MP3 via City Slang, a Berlin-based label that releases a lot of American indie rock in Europe. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the head's up. "Marionettes in Modern Times" - The Color Turning If the music here has the spacious mellowness of a certain sort of ambling old prog-rock composition--mid-career Genesis, perhaps, or later Pink Floyd--singer Steve Scavo's sweet tones add such a decisively contemporary feeling (think Ben Gibbard or Jeremy Enigk rather than Peter Gabriel or David Gilmour) that the older allusions are likely to be overlooked by most who give this a listen. The band themselves may not even be doing it on purpose, but I'm such a relentless musical integrationist that I love it when I feel two (or more) distinct rock'n'roll eras combining in the here and now. The thing that sells me without question on this one is the chorus. After the deeper, prog-y sounds of the intro, the verse, with its prominent acoustic rhythm and reverby synths, may strike a casual listener as an airy sort of Radiohead Lite. But this is exactly what sets us up for the chorus, the way a narrow path through the woods makes the flower-strewn meadow it leads to all the more glorious. The chorus takes the airiness of the verse and subtly but firmly focuses it both melodically and instrumentally. As soaring guitar and synth lines replace the acoustic strumming, note how the vocal melody--starting now in the second measure, nicely playing off the first measure's dreamy instrumental motif--leads us first to a resolution (1:30) and then, almost before you can register it, back into an upward-striving ambiguity (1:32-34) that floats us back into the verse. Note too how the verse, the second time around, unfolds with a few engaging differences. And yes, my description risks turning something delicate and gorgeous into something that sounds dry and technical, but there's an easy antidote: just listen to the song. The Color Turning is a quartet from LA. "Marionettes in Modern Times" is from the band's first full-length CD, Good Hands Bad Blood, released earlier this month on Softdrive Records, a label started in 2006 by Stone Temple Pilots singer Scott Weiland. THIS WEEK'S FINDS August 18, 2009 Fingertips is heading into vacation mode for one more week, but so as not to leave you empty-handed this time, I'm pointing you in the direction of three notable free and legal MP3s that have come online in the last few days. These songs are well worth hearing, even though I'm not sure I will end up writing detailed reviews of them once I get back in the groove here. If you happen to follow the Fingertips Twitter stream, you'll know about these already. (And if you don't follow the Twitter stream, check it out if you're interested in daily links to free and legal MP3s and general news and information about the digital music scene.) "These Are My Twisted Words" - Radiohead This was first sighted as a sort of mystery song last week, confirmed as a Radiohead tune this week, and is now available as a free download via the band's site. Note that the song is available as a zip file, which has to be extracted in the usual way you would extract a zip file. The zip file contains not only the MP3 but the lyrics and 15 pages of gnarled-branch artwork the band suggests printing out on (firm) tracing paper with this advice: "You could put them in an order that pleases you." The song has a long, tense intro, and a gratifying, simmering sort of rhythmic complexity, sounding like something from Amnesiac that showed up on In Rainbows by surprise. "In These Arms" - the Swell Season The Swell Season is the name that Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova perform under; you may know them better as the people who sang together in the charming movie Once, and won an Oscar for the effort. "In These Arms" is a pensive love song; read more about it here on Spinner, which is making the MP3 available. "Slow Doomsday" - Elvis Perkins in Dearland Elvis Perkins returns to Fingertips with a song from his band's forthcoming EP, to be entitled Doomsday. Loose-limbed and deliberate, this one has the vibe and spirit of a Dixieland dirge, thanks to EPiD's horn-laced lineup. MP3 via the Beggars Group. While you're at it, you might want to browse through all of the Beggars MP3s--they've been accumulating a nice collection there over the last few years. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the head's up on this one. THIS WEEK'S FINDS August 26, 2009 "She Comes to Me" - Adam Arcuragi At once relaxed and intent, "She Comes to Me" is an instantly likable, subtly quirky acoustic strummer. And you should know that I don't have a lot of patience for run-of-the-mill acoustic strummers, which strike me by and large as a little, shall we say, boring. Despite what you might hear being aired on those they-mean-well-but-they're-really-sometimes-kind-of-dreadful "triple A" radio stations, songs are not good or wise or sensitive just because someone's playing an acoustic guitar and has an evocative voice. "She Comes to Me" is good and wise and sensitive because it has movement and energy, because it's easy to listen to but difficult to pin down, because it is both aurally and structurally complex without being messy or silly. Unlike countless writers of run-of-the-mill acoustic strummers, Arcuragi here gives us a continually interesting melody, based on refreshing chord changes that don't seem to follow a predictable pattern. The melody is in fact somewhat hard to follow at first, but not in the least off-putting or strained. The typical acoustic strummer is a more lockstep affair, with easy to digest, regularly repeating chords and a plain--if not outright predictable--melody. Another worthy point of differentiation is Arcuragi's willingness to expand the instrumental palette beyond acoustic guitar, even as the acoustic guitar remains at the song's aural center. I particularly like the choir-like harmonies and the high-profile trumpets that are at once unexpected and exactly right. Adam Arcuragi is a singer-songwriter born in Atlanta, now based in Philadelphia. "She Comes to Me" is from his second full-length CD, I Am Become Joy, released in June on High Two Records. MP3 via High Two. Thanks to Largehearted Boy for the lead. "Faces" - the Happy Hollows The L.A.-based Happy Hollows return to Fingertips with an itchy-crunchy bit of indie rock enlivened by Sarah Negahdari's pixie-ish (but full-throttled) vocals and slashing guitar work. As intermittently discussed here, the rock trio can be a wondrous beast, especially when veering towards the noisy side of things. Because even at high volume, a trio always announces itself discretely: each part--guitar, bass, drum--is unavoidably and distinctly heard, each an important third of the sound. While there is (duh) room in the rock world for larger ensembles, the trio, when properly talented (I can imagine there is on the other hand little more discouraging than a mediocre trio), has the feeling of something archetypal. What grabs me here in particular? Hmm. This seems to be one of those songs that I intuitively gravitate to without a conscious sense of why. Sure, I could probably retrofit an explanation but first of all that seems like cheating, and also, I think, part of the charm here is the song's holistic power. It's not one or another thing in particular, it's the everything altogether. Though, okay, I do specifically like the second line of the chorus, both the interesting chord it veers onto and the way Negahdari's voice hits a new level of vehemence just around then. It's the kind of shift that registers more unconsciously than consciously with the listener, and adds to the general sense of engagement. With this listener, at least. "Faces" is the opening track from the band's forthcoming full-length debut, Spells, scheduled for an October release. "A Bus Called Further" - Heroes of Popular Wars Churny, semi-psychedelic, and borderline funky in an undanceable sort of way, "A Bus Called Further" is both groovily electronic and baroquely corporeal at the same time. Now I am the furthest thing imaginable from a gearhead so I only know what the PR material says, but apparently Stephe Sykes, the brains behind HOPW, uses all sorts of "new vintage" (i.e. '80s) equipment (guitar synths, 20-year-old samplers, and the like), which is no doubt what lends "A Bus Called Further" its chuggy, homemade vibe. Applying 21st-century mixing and collaging know-how to equipment made before people did this sort of thing is its own sort of mad genius. And speaking of mad genius, the fact that the song title brings to (my) mind the song "Bus Called Happiness," from the great mad-genius band Pere Ubu, gives the whole thing bonus points. (Update: Visitor Sean has pointed out that "Further"--originally misspelled "Furthur"--was in fact the name given to the school bus taken cross-country in 1964 by author Ken Kesey and the so-called "Merry Pranksters." Points for Sean.) Previously Brooklyn-based, Sykes moved Heroes of Popular Wars to L.A. this summer and is still getting settled there--a process which includes his having to find people to turn HOPW into a band that can play onstage. "A Bus Called Further" is a song from HOPW's debut full-length album, Church & McDonald, which was self-released late last month, and was named, you may as well know, for an intersection in the Kensington section of Brooklyn. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
|
