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May 31, 2005
observed it and collapsed it
Black Dice - Live on BBC Radio 3 - Creature
[here comes an incoherent rant]: I read somewhere recently a remark to the effect that people love the new Oneida album just because "it's a noise band making a pop record". While it's true that there is some novelty appeal to an album like that (where a certain style is approached from a totally different angle), I think that really underestimates why 'The Wedding' is receiving as much attention as it is- and that's simply because it is so well done- it's not just a 'omgwtf a noise-rock band playing pop songs with strings, dude, that is blowing my mind it's so fucking crazy' reaction, it's more along the lines of 'wow, this record is gorgeous', i.e. even if you disregard the origin of the album (ignore the name of the band on the cover), you've still got an impressive and beautiful record. [end scene]
Black Dice long ago moved away from the intense turbo-hardcore that they used to play, and started focusing on what they referred to as the 'transitions' between their songs. Apparently, when they played out in the old days, they would improvise short pieces of segue music to flow from one brain-hammering song into the next, and eventually the segue music became more important and more interesting to them than the actual songs. This new approach yielded the beauty of "Beaches and Canyons", "Miles of Smiles", and most recently, "Creature Comforts", the latter two of which are probably the most accessible of Black Dice's recordings.
"Creature Comforts" as a whole is like a musique concrete version of a drunken SUV safari-ride through an African wildlife reserve at night, and nothing (except maybe 'Night Flight') exemplifies this more than 'Creature'. Can you imagine a semi-enraged bull elephant playing hopscotch through a joint (and unlikely) congregation of bonobos and hyenas? Maybe add a (pensive) rhino in there somewhere, just for kicks. This stampede is brought to life by the bros. Copeland, Aaron Warren, and Hisham Bharoocha. Let me take a minute here to once again lament the exit of Hisham from the band: he was a large part of what made Black Dice so interesting, and I think his presence will be missed on their future releases. He is, however, finally playing out regularly, under the name 'Soft Circle', as a solo-drummer/looper, and the rumor is that he will have something out quite soon (also he's featured in Me Magazine this summer, check it out). The last four minutes or so of 'Creature' can best be described as: an unholy galloping beast. Enjoy. [buy Black Dice releases here]
p.s. Thanks to the 30 or so comments from a Ms. LOANS AVILABLE NOW that I received over the weekend, I had to turn on the comment-approval thing again. It's a pain in the ass, but it's better than being bombarded with syntax-less spam.
Posted by Kevin at 11:22 AM | TrackBack
May 27, 2005
You were a mild sensation
Saloon - Le Weekend
Saloon's Amanda Gomez has a voice that is dew-bedabbled and fresh, and it makes 'Le Weekend' feel like a sort of summertime-only dessert. Comparisons to Stereolab are certainly warranted, as this song bounces along with the same francophonic energy and statically-meshed instruments as Laetitia Sadler and co., but Saloon's work seems simply to have more passion and excitement in it.
Unfortunately, Saloon broke up after the release of their debut album, "(This is) What We Call Progress", but you can still listen to their stuff right here.
p.s. That was maybe the worst post I've ever written. Anyway, there won't be anything up on Monday on account of Memorial Day (Molars is actually a joint-venture between Interscope Records and the Department of Justice, haven't I mentioned that before??). Have a good weekend-
Posted by Kevin at 09:39 AM | TrackBack
May 26, 2005
Reams of reams
Jonny Greenwood - Smear
You could say that this sounds positively Hitchcockian, but then you would be wrong (and besides, it's more like Hermannian, if you're going for the Hitchcock connection). But it's tempting, given the thin, wailing sound of the two Ondes-Martenots used in this piece, which could be mistaken for two victims (of sorrow, or crime) shrieking in tight, alarming harmony. 'Smear' moves away from the mournful, in parts, and sounds almost revelatory- at certain stages in this piece, it seems like there should be someone ready to whisk a curtain back to show off a grand, rolling landscape (in a way, I think that this would be a perfect candidate for a new version of 'Fantasia'-esque animation).
This was performed most recently at the Ether Festival, in London, at the end of March. Greenwood (who, in case you didn't know [unlikely], is the guitarist/resident instrument genius for Radiohead) has performed this along with the London Sinfonietta a few times in the past year or so. One of the great things about this piece is that, towards the end (around the 7 minute mark or so), it's almost as if the orchestra is playing two entirely different works at once- the sort of elegiac theme that starts out at the beginning of 'Smear' is preserved, but there's also this strange and great background explosion of hyper-circus strings and horns at the same time). [note: I just realized, while I was writing this, that the 'background explosion' that sounds like a second piece of music actually is a totally other work- the London Sinfonietta's website has embedded music, and I left the page open while I was listening to 'Smear', and Oliver Knussen's 'Two Organa' was playing. Not to slight either work, but the combination of both pieces, esp. if 'Two Organa' is started right at 'Smear's 7 minute mark, is exciting and gorgeous, semi-reminiscent of Black Dice's 'Miles of Smiles' piece. Would it be ridiculous to request a mash-up of 'Smear' and 'Two Organa'?]. I'm pretty sure this hasn't been released anywhere yet as a recording, but, if you want to support Greenwood (who no doubt is a struggling artist, barely able to feed himself), you can buy "Bodysong", his solo soundtrack composition, here.
Posted by Kevin at 08:33 AM | TrackBack
May 25, 2005
Veterinary + River
Vetiver - Quiri Quirano
Molars semi-exclusive! Not really. But this song is hot! Description? It swings like the stand-out track from an early to mid-period Disney film, say, circa Sleeping Beauty, Sword in the Stone, or Jungle Book. Kind of a lazy inner-tube rolling down the river vibe to it. Those strings at the end are essential. Vetiver's Andy Cabic's voice is like a comfortable old afghan that sits by the bay window and becomes sun-bleached, frayed, and eroded by many naps. 'Quiri Quirano' is a humble song that struts, on occasion.
To understand what the lyrics are about, you have to know that this comes from Esopus Magazine's recent 'Imaginary Friends' compilation CD that accompanied their 4th issue. The good folks at the magazine asked their readers to submit descriptions of their childhood imaginary friends, which they then took and gave to various bands/artists and asked them to write songs based on the readers' descriptions. Which is just a fantastic conceit. So, for example, when you hear Andy Cabic sing, "Maura, my dear/who are you/talking to over there?", he's referring to Maura Pieretti, who submitted Quiri's story:
For years I had no memory of my imaginary friend. Until one day, many years ago, my mother and I, and somebody else, maybe my new boyfriend at the time, were chatting amiably. Amiably? Hard thing to imagine since I did not really get along that well with either one of my parents until I moved this side of the Atlantic. But that's another story. So, my mother discloses to me the fact that yes, when I was 5 or 6 years old, she worried a lot about me. She, a first-time mother, even thought of taking me to a psychiatrist, but that was not popular back then. She confessed her worries to my uncle- a general surgeon- who told her not to be alarmed if I talked to myself a lot and kept repeating the name "Quiri Quirano" (pronounced "Kweeree Kweerano") while gesturing to the empty room. It was not going to affect my chances to go to the university one day. As soon as my mother said the name Quiri Quirano, during that amiable conversation, a whole part of my memory came back to me. Of course, how could I forget? Quiri, my friend. We had so much fun together. How could anybody doubt the goodness of my friend Quiri? Such a good listener, and always ready to comply with any of my requests. The best thing about Quiri was that his grandmother lived in Firenze, and so in order to visit her- she lived all alone- we would have to get on a train and travel over there. And maybe spend the night with Quiri's grandma. And the train rides...those were relaxing after all the confusion and noise of the train station. Quiri and I would look out the window and see the cows and the peasants, and we would feel so grown up, all alone in the train car. Quiri was a delicate boy, always neatly dressed, not pushy or dirty-nosed like the boys down the street. His knees were never scratched or peeled, and I think he was quite fond of me. I still miss him to this day. Maura Pieretti - Belleair, FL
How ridiculously great is that? So anyway, 1) the magazine is very well-written (particularly interesting is the article by the ethnomusicologist who investigates the jingles of ice cream trucks), and 2) the compilation CD is quite good, and includes what is perhaps one of the prettiest melodies ever written by Animal Collective's Avey Tare (his song is 'Judy Biworker'). I would suggest a subscription (cheap and good! Such a nice conjunction of adjectives), if you're interested. Also of note- Vetiver has a nice, new mini-album out (with a Fleetwood Mac cover(!)), which you can order right here.
Posted by Kevin at 08:39 AM | TrackBack
May 24, 2005
would mean caves instead
Life Without Buildings - Leanover (acoustic)
This is another one of those post-mortem posts: Life Without Buildings are gone, broken up in 2002, I think. They were from Glasgow, and released only one proper album, the awesome "Any Other City", in '01.
This acoustic version of 'The Leanover', recorded at a show they did in December of 2001, is a great demonstration of the band's strengths. Sue Tompkins has such a light and airy voice, and the way she sings her lyrics- well, it sounds like she's casting a spell. The repetition is on the level of OCD-esque incantation (like the scene in "the Aviator" when Howard Hughes says 'it's the wave of the future', over and over again), and it's comforting in a way, because she'll take a phrase- like 'MBV' (for My Bloody Valentine, maybe?) and distend it, twist it, change the intonation- and really live in it. She bends her syllables and phrases around the music in a way that's reminiscent of Stephen Malkmus + Mike Skinner (the Streets). The bassline hook in this song is like a very doting older brother to the hyperactive runs and twanging of the acoustic guitar.
"Any Other City" is chock-full of great songs, and you can buy it here, if you'd like.
Posted by Kevin at 09:01 AM | TrackBack
May 23, 2005
the fireworking profession
Astrobotnia - Part 1
When the Astrobotnia records first came out on Rephlex Records (run by Aphex Twin) in 2002, no one really knew who was behind the name- and a lot of people were speculating that it was Aphex Twin himself, releasing new music under a pseudonym. Turned out not to be the case. Astrobotnia is actually Aleksi Perala, who records sometimes under the Ovuca name, and sometimes (once?) as Cylobotnia. (Wouldn't it be great if I said something here like: "Unfortunately, by the time this was announced, I had already spent 2 years and the majority of my own inheritance (coal-mining money) in a vain effort to uncover Astrobotnia's secret identity"...) This is the sort of music that just demands attention though, and the added mystery with respect to the musician's background really heightened the allure of Astrobotnia's 3 releases (Pts. 1 and 3 were CDs, Pt. 2 was a vinyl-only, with 6 untitled tracks).
This sample mix of tracks from "Part 1" begins with 'Lightworks', which is just undeniably gorgeous- it's composed of field recordings of fireworks, hanging ambient chords, and careful, delicate drum programming. It's both similar to and very different from Boards of Canada's work (it is sad, and pretty, and great- something about 'Lightworks' especially is like looking at old pictures of your parents from when they were your own age). 'Lightworks' transitions into 'Hallo', which is a slow and sticky twisting workout. 'Everyone' is one of the most recognizable tracks, since it has a sample from the great Tom Hanks movie, "The Burbs", where the character Art says, "I want to kill everyone, Satan is good, Satan is my pal", in a sweet, chanting rhythm. The remainder of the mix has at least 2 more tracks sampled (but I can't tell which ones are which), a little more upbeat and sunny than the preceding stuff.
Part 1 is probably my favorite, but I will say that Parts 2 and 3 are pretty much equally great. If you'd like to buy 1 or 3, it looks like Forced Exposure has them right here, but it looks like Part 2 might be just a bit harder to find.
Posted by Kevin at 09:13 AM | TrackBack
May 20, 2005
casting the strength of street knowledge
Cadence Weapon - Black Hand
Cadence Weapon = Rollie Pemberton, whose name you might recognize from either his reviews on P-fork or on Stylus. Rollie has a short bio up on his Cadence Weapon site that starts off with the following phrase, "I'm 19 and good...", which for some reason has been stuck in my head for the past month or so. There's nothing quite as cut-through-the-bullshit as introducing yourself with your age and skill level (moral value?), and I dig that. So though there is some impressiveness happening here- Rollie's 19 now, and that means he wrote the majority of his P-fork reviews (which were always clear, well-reasoned, and entertaining [sort of a rare thing for that site], much like, say, Dominique Leone's or Mark Richardson's) when he was 17 (your jaw should drop here). I think I was still writing like, stories about the ninja turtles when I was 17 (but didn't everyone go through that phase, for 10 years?).
Let me admit right off the bat that I have no idea for certain what Rollie is saying in the latter half of the chorus ("Style soft like a pillow for real though/black hand like Gavrilo") [editor's note: Rollie was kind enough to stop by and actually tell me what he was saying in this line- not "Avrillo" like I had thought], but that's probably just because of my Wernicke's turbo-aphasia. Anyway, 'Black Hand' breaks out of the gate with some quick sirens, then there's a small break (the beats are intense, sounding like deep, live drums), and Rollie flows over top of an insanely addictive acoustic guitar (or what sounds like one- the vibrations sound like the E(bass) string ringing out) run, and his voice fluctuates between an aggressive, aloof tone and something that's more just like the confidence of someone stating the facts. One of my favorite lines in 'Black Hand' is "hand black like the Moors/and I ran to the back with seven years and four scores", which is tied with, "I get my point across like an atheist archer", whew, so good.
'Balck Hand' is from Cadence's mixtape, "Cadence Weapon Is The Black Hand", which you can order direct from Rollie for $15, right here. Next up is an LP, "Breaking Kayfabe", on Upper Class Recordings. Besides all that, Rollie also writes a hilarious and well-selected mp3blog, Razorblade Runner, and contributes to the (v. funny) music-video blog Purpology, along with Riff Central's Nick S. Plus he loves Arrested Development. How can you beat that? [update: P-fork WATW hearts Rollie's Ciara remix]
Posted by Kevin at 12:28 AM | TrackBack
May 19, 2005
the most important lie I've ever told
Animal Collective - Hollinndagain - (Forest Gospel/There's an Arrow/Lablakely Dress/Tell It to the Mountain/Pumpkin Gets a Snakebite)
More Animal Collective, but this time, it's a live album (Avey Tare, Panda Bear, and Geologist on tour)! "Hollinndagain" was released in 2002 on Secretly Canadian's ridiculously small-run (300 copies per pressing) vinyl-only label, St. Ives (who also pressed that Microphones mini-LP "Blood" back in the day). As you might have guessed, this album is so out-of-print it's not even funny (which is why the entirety of Side 2 is today's download), and there's been no talk of reissuing it, so if you see an album for sale with a cover that looks like the one at left, buy it and run (interesting thing about the LP art- they took Simon Joyner covers, turned them inside out, and cut patterns into them).
One of the many great things about this band is the way they perform live, which I know I've mentioned before, but it really is pretty remarkable- this is what Noah (Panda Bear) said about it (taken from this awesome interview in Eye magazine), and I think it captures the whole thing pretty well:
"We'd like for people to come to our show and feel really good and energized," says Noah, who's also just released a Panda Bear solo album, Young Prayer, a solemn song-cycle that serves as a sort of precursor to Sung Tongs' explosive canon. "We'd like to fill them with positive energy with our playing. I think when we do it right we go deep inside ourselves when we play and I'd like to encourage people to do the same sort of thing with their stuff, even if it's not music at all. Mostly we'd like people to have a good time and to feel strong."
There is something already intrinsically euphoric about the band's music, but when you see them play it out live, it's just overpowering. From what Noah says, it sounds like they've never had a cavalier attitude with respect to playing live- it's not a chore for them in any way, but something they look forward to doing.
The tracks on "Hollinndagain" were taken from various live performances during the "Spirit They've Gone/Spirit They've Vanished"/"Danse Manatee" era ('Lablakely Dress' is on "Danse Manatee"). 'Forest Gospel' starts with a full-out percussion assault from Panda Bear and some sort of free-form vocals from the band. The first understandable lyrics sound like (but are not), "Calling my best friend, Jesus" (which I always thought was weird, coming from Animal Collective)- in reality, Avey Tare is apparently saying something like, "only my best friends use the coke...pipe...crack...ready" (which, um, makes a little more sense, I guess). The next section features a nice build-up with Avey chanting, "pow, all you need is a nick, you pull out the prick, you pull out the stick". A lot of this stuff is way more in line with the lulls/explosions of "Here Comes the Indian"- it's harsher and heavier even than that album, but there are some extremely pretty moments throughout (as usual).
With any luck, Animal Collective will put out another live album someday soon. In the meantime, you can count on not being able to buy "Hollinndagain" anywhere (although it does supposedly pop up on Ebay every once in a while), but take solace in the fact that it's pretty readily available on slsk. Whew.
Posted by Kevin at 09:15 AM | TrackBack
May 17, 2005
tender your resignation with a flaming arrow
Amon Duul II - Soap Shop Rock: Burning Sister/Halluzination Guillotine/Gulp A Sonata/Flesh-Coloured Anti-Aircraft Alarm
There is something truly heartwarming about a 13 minute song, particularly when it sounds as massive as the 'Soap Shop Rock' suite, and especially when it comes from the more musically-minded splinter group of a late 60s/early 70s German political/artistic commune. Amon Duul II, indeed. You can hear their influence in the music of bands like Black Mountain (when the vocals come in on Black Mountain's 'Heart of Snow', it's hard not to make the Amon Duul comparison), Built to Spill, maybe Cat Power a little bit, Jay-Z obviously, um, that group Sniddledrak- and about a thousand other bands, actually.
I'm not going to write a crazy in-depth description of this track because 1)it's a little intimidating, and 2)sometimes it's just best to enjoy a piece of music like this without any expectations. The album that this is taken from, "Yeti", is composed of both pre-written and improvised songs, and ends with an intensely beautiful track called 'Sandoz in the Rain'. You can buy it here. It's sort of mind-blowingly great. OK, one thing about 'Soap Shop Rock': it's got an annular structure. Who else is wildly excited by that?!
Posted by Kevin at 09:16 PM | TrackBack
May 16, 2005
police ghost
Jim Yoshii Pile-Up - Silver Sparkler
There are three elements that make this song as fantastic as it is: an irrepressible bassline, Paul Gonzenbach's vocals, and lyrics that tell an evocative story of either extreme depression or debilitating physical illness (it's hard to tell, but given what P-fork recently reported Gonzenbach saying about the content of the album, it's probably physical illness). Jim Yoshii Pile-Up make music in a way that reminds me, in a strange way, of Gary Lutz's writing. Now let me explain that- Lutz writes about some of the most discarded, miserable characters you'll ever come across, but expresses that content by means of some of the most distended, polished, and gorgeous sentences linguistically possible (no exaggeration, the man has talent). The Jim Yoshii Pile-Up's songs are 'sad', but are arranged in such a careful, precise way that it never becomes overbearing or monotonous.
The very ending of 'Silver Sparkler' is remarkable- Paul's vocals and the background vocals become softer and almost dendritic, like the distinct filaments of thread that split off from an old piece of yarn (or twine, I guess, but yarn's nicer). 'Silver Sparkler' is from the forthcoming album, "Picks Us Apart", which should be out some time in July and will be quite good, if this song is any indication.
P.S. Check out this song that the incomparable 20 Jazz Funk Greats put up last week, by White Rose Movement. I've been listening to it 3-10 times a day, and it's just disgustingly good.
Posted by Kevin at 04:47 PM | TrackBack
May 15, 2005
We threw rocks at the sky
This Heat - Sleep
This Heat - Paper Hats
This Heat! What a great band name. First heard their stuff two years ago via my old roommate, it sounded like field recordings of hyenas ripping into a carcass + various ticking clocks moaning in pain, which = interesting, but not something I'd want to hear everyday. So I promptly forgot about them for a while until this past January, when Orbis Quintus posted an excellent little song named 'Sleep', along with a very compelling write-up. The song itself was a short, mechanical nocturne, full of frictional harmonies and rusty percussion (for a modern analogue, you need look no further than Animal Collective (or possibly the Fire Show, maybe), who have seemingly mastered the blending of noise/experimental instrumentation with pop melodies that This Heat effortlessly nails in 'Sleep'), and plus it's just catchy as all hell. 'So this is a thing called comfort/doesn't cost much to keep in touch'- priceless.
'Paper Hats', on the other hand, is a little more abrasive, a bit more adventurous. It starts with a heart attack-serious guitar loop that's paused by some cymbal/cowbell taps and Charles Hayward's (I think) aloof and distended vocals, "well/what did we expect?". Then the loop returns in a big way and Hayward starts screaming from the other room. Stage three is all calm vocals and a transition into the noisier portion, which itself gives way to a weird little Liars' 'This Dust Makes That Mud'-esque trepanation loop. There's some nice give and take between the tape manipulated guitar and the percussion at the end of the song, overlaps and fade-outs. 'Paper Hats' is just a tight goddamn jam.
Both these songs are from This Heat's 1981 album, "Deceit" (also their final LP), which is woefully out of print. I think These Records reissued a lot of the band's work in '01, but it looks like they're re-pressing the records now on a once-in-a-while basis. However, These has put up a page where you can add your name to an email list and they'll let you know when This Heat titles are available again. From what I remember, the packaging on the reissues is just immaculate, so they're definitely worth waiting for.
Posted by Kevin at 03:43 PM | TrackBack
May 14, 2005
Enlightened Octopus Despot
Detachment Kit - Ricochet
Detachment Kit - Chronology
'Ricochet' and 'Chronology' together form such a softly gorgeous two-song suite on Detachment Kit's "Of This Blood..." that I couldn't just post one and not the other. For whatever reason, most reviews of this album that I've seen tend to ignore the fact that 'Ricochet' flows right into 'Chronology', and although some critics tend to pick out the former as one of the album's strongest tracks, they often disregard or dismiss the latter as 'sludgy' or 'repetitive' (which I think is a mistake). These songs are essential.
'Ricochet' and 'Chronology' both have what can best be described as calligraphic guitars: they're so clean and elegant. Cool lines with little flourishes popping up here and there. 'Ricochet' starts off with a churning, thin interval progression, and a second, wider-wale guitar slides in to thicken it up. Ian Menard's vocals here are the stark raving calm of someone who's forseen a relationship disaster and resigned himself to go through with everything anyway. The lyrics in this song capture that attitude perfectly: "mainlining aspects of the recent past/portraiture masking everything you ask/tried so hard to keep this together", "over and over it's falling apart". But wow, check out the ending of this track (around 2:50) when all the instruments drop out, save the bass (which just discreetly pulses), and Ian sings, "the city's a landlside/it pushes you over/it's not what you're feeling/it's crumbling down/I don't really care/to turn these rocks over/they're concrete and heavy/and tumbling down", accompanied by a feathered and wordless falsetto in the background. Those last few moments in 'Ricochet' illustrate the kind of emotional flux that's particular to the end of a relationship- it's like coming home, late at night, to find a light still coming from beneath a bedroom door, and being filled with both relief and dread at the sight.
The dirty, rumbling guitar that ends 'Ricochet' starts off 'Chronology', and then quickly fades into the background (stays there) as Ian cathartically blurts out the initial lines. The music in 'Chronology' is even prettier than 'Ricochet', with the swelling, tumbling guitar lines and xylophone drops meshing together to form something unlikely but beautiful, like a blanket made out of blown glass (put that in my pile of all-time clumsiest similes). The song is both melancholy and uplifting at the same time, with sort of a strange post-holiday depression feel to it. However, the lyrics seem to address the same themes as in 'Ricochet', as Ian sings, "and you go/and you go and walk out on me...yeah you go out far across the sea". In the second part, someone credited as the 'Thin Man' honestly croons, "this is a great way to push your way", and the song ends with somber, deliberate strumming and some nice twilit phrases on the guitars.
"Of This Blood..." is a pretty extraordinary album (and, I think, overlooked) and you can buy it here.
Posted by Kevin at 03:34 AM | TrackBack
May 13, 2005
Insensate carelessness
Forgot to upload a song, so for today, Molars will turn into a recipe/self-help blog (music will return tomorrow). First off, let's address scrambled eggs. I like them. Can make them when pressed into service. But here's the question for you: dry, or wet? There probably aren't many foods that one desires to be, you know, just like sopping wet (besides soup, perhaps), but some people dig their eggs with a little bit of runniness to them, some independent movement (in this case, a kind of sliding, easing motion) by the food itself. I can respect this. Although I prefer my eggs to be dry, I will cook wet scrambled eggs upon request. Now, let's talk bread: it's great, full of flour, and possibly riboflavin. Combine the two-- wet eggs, and bread, and what do you get? French Toast. This recipe is a burner:
Ingredients
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 cup packed brown sugar
2 tablespoons corn syrup
6 (1 inch thick) slices French bread
5 eggs
1 1/2 cups half-and-half cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon orange brandy
1/4 teaspoon salt
Directions
Melt butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Mix in brown sugar and corn syrup, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Pour into a 9x13 inch baking dish. Remove crusts from bread, and arrange in the baking dish in a single layer. In a small bowl, whisk together eggs, half and half, vanilla extract, orange brandy, and salt. Pour over the bread. Cover, and chill at least 8 hours, or overnight. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Remove the dish from the refrigerator, and bring to room temperature. Bake uncovered 35 to 40 minutes in the preheated oven, until puffed and lightly browned.
8 hours prep for french toast, not bad eh? That is what I call ingenuity and efficiency. Probably a good idea to have a batch of egged-bread chilled and ready in the fridge at all times, just in case you have guests drop in for breakfast (mailman, UPS guy, tax collector, whatever) unexpectedly.
Tomorrow: Back to Music. Monday: What to do about those drapes?
Posted by Kevin at 08:39 AM | TrackBack
May 12, 2005
the Redemptive Powers of Fruit Pectin
Aislers Set - Catherine Says
When I first heard 'Catherine Says', I somehow mentally linked the name in the song to Bernini's 'The Ecstasy of St. Theresa' (believing it was 'The Ecstasy of St. Catherine'). Later on I discovered my mistake and was filled with shame. However, I still think the sculpture provides an extremely compelling illustration for some of the song's lyrics- the first line Amy Linton sings is "I gave my life and love to Jesus", and, if I remember correctly, the deal with 'E of St. T' is that Theresa has an almost orgasmic look on her face- so intense was her spirituality (she often professed to having mystic visions)- as the angel withdraws the arrow of divine love from her heart.
'Catherine Says' is such a vocal-driven song, and that's really just due to the fact that Amy Linton's voice is so remarkably pretty. It's got a resounding quality to it, as if Amy herself somehow houses an echo chamber somewhere in her torso. But the music itself, like much of the Aislers Set's work, is almost lapidary, it's so carved and delicate. The xylophone introduction, the soft and insistent pouding of the drums that usher in Amy's first verse, the slowly grinding distorted guitar buried deep in the mix, and the sweet handclaps and snaps- this song is a little loose gem.
All of the Aislers Set's albums are great, but this song is taken from 2003's "How I Learned to Write Backwards", which you can buy here.
Posted by Kevin at 01:02 AM | TrackBack
May 10, 2005
A metallic taste in the mouth
Godspeed You! Black Emperor - J.L.H. Outro
Arguably, GY!BE is one of the catalysts for Montreal's slow but strong emergence as a sort of (perceived) Candian musical nexus- the band garnered so much attention when "F#A# Infinity" and "Slow Riot for New Zero Kanada" were released, and a lot of the focus on the band was on their reluctance to do interviews, the cryptic liner notes they included in their (gorgeously packaged) LPs, and their mysterious home/studio, the Hotel 2 Tango. I can distinctly remember reading a review in the summer of 2000 that said something idiotic along the lines of "guess we have to start paying attention to Canada now", etc. A stable roster of staggeringly good bands on the Constellation label and on Alien 8 Recordings has ensured that Montreal is indeed regarded as a sort of hot-bed of (interesting, compelling) musical activity. I for one will admit that, during my sophomore year in college, I had the unlikely and slightly insane idea of moving up to Montreal to work for Constellation Records, perhaps helping out by gluing together LP sleeves for 8 or 10 hours a day. But no. I chose a philosophy degree instead, and now peddle my wares (existentialism, symbolic logic, hard-thinking) on the streets every day, scraping together enough money for a watery bowl of flour soup (if I'm lucky) for dinner each night (kidding, of course).
'J.L.H. Outro' (John Lee Hooker) was included as a CD-version-only hidden track (the vinyl version has an infinite loop as the last track) on "F#A# Infinity", which was the band's debut album (unless you count "All Lights Fucked on the Hairy Amp Drooling", of which there were only like 33 copies made, and which really has just reached the level of Grailness among some hardcore GY!BE fans). When I first heard this song, it was like being hit with a train after being dropped from an airplane. As overwhelming as the album itself is, 'J.L.H. Outro' is like consecutive shots of adrenaline to the heart. People like to accuse GY!BE (especially recently) of structural monotony (crescendo....decrescendo....crescendo...end), but I think anyone that listens to their music realizes that there's a little bit more to it than that. This song goes from a soft loop to massive, incandescent filigrees in the space of about a second. 'J.L.H. Outro' is like a perfectly masoned and clean brick wall (for the first two mintes) out of which emerges a gnarled and steady hand that graffitis whirling, ribboned designs (and tags). Hearing this song (and the album it's from) for the first time was nothing short of a revelation (it was just so unlike anything else I had ever listened to).
GY!BE are on hiatus right now, but that's supposedly (and hopefully) just on account of the fact that all the members wanted some time to work on their many side projects (of which there's a new one to add to the family- the Mile End Ladies' String Auxiliary (or MELSA), which features Sophie from GY!BE and A Silver Mount Zion, Beckie from Esmerine, ASMZ, and Fifths of Seven (which also features Spencer Krug of Wolf Parade), and someone else whose name I do not know. They have a record coming out soon though- watch out for that) and chill the fuck out. However, if you're jonesing for new material, the band did play two new tunes on the road when they toured last- the excellent 'Gamelan' and 'Albanian'- which can both be found on SLSK or wherever. But if you're going to start with something, start with F#A#...
Posted by Kevin at 11:49 PM | TrackBack
May 09, 2005
just don't pull on the red rope
Oneida - the Eiger
There is something so distinctly Proustian about this song- maybe the overwhelming thickness of the strings (courtesy of the Fireworks Ensemble), or the references to 'running through the garden fair', or dying 'trapped among the snow and ice' without a 'flask of wine and conversation fine'. Alluding to an earlier period when certain sporting activities still contained some elements of formality and etiquette and were reserved for only the priveleged (not that there aren't sports like that now). 'The Eiger' is also terribly romantic- the narrator talks about the mountain itself being all-consuming, first as 'a whole wide world', and then 'my only world', but then contrasts that passion with the aforementioned scenario in which he dies and never becomes acquainted with the 'pretty little German girl' featured in the first line (the phrase 'pretty little German girl', by the way, is enunciated in such a sweetly rhythmic way- it locks into the systolic movement of the strings heartbreakingly well).
There is also something distinctly Clint Eastwood in this song. Not many people know about "The Eiger Sanction", the 1975 thriller in which Clint plays Dr. Jonathan Hemlock, art teacher/collector who finances his monstrous art addiction by performing small assassinations and by also climbing huge and dangerous mountains. But how can you discuss 'the Eiger' without also mentioning this cinema classic? Impossible. George Kennedy (Cool Hand Luke, Naked Gun) turns in the performance of a lifetime as Ben Bowman, the old (and possibly treacherous???) friend of Clint's character who betrays himself in the end (I'm giving it away here) via a bum leg that acts up in cold weather/high altitudes. I can and will recommend this movie wholeheartedly to you, but I can't help but think it might have been 100x better if Clint had somehow managed to work Oneida's 'the Eiger' into the movie (perhaps by singing it?), despite the fact that the song was released a full 30 years after the movie was shot.
Anyway, enough of my flu-prose. "The Wedding" was released last week, and it is a FANTASTIC album. It is full of embellishments, thick, twisting vines of drama, and very, very good music. Do not miss out. Check the cool backstory on this album here, and then, maybe, go buy it here.
Posted by Kevin at 11:13 PM | TrackBack
butterflies taste with their feet
Saturday Looks Good To Me - Meet Me By the Water
I am sick as hell. Coughing. Snotting. Fevering. You know the deal. I think I caught it from one of my little brothers over the weekend and nurtured it through a 7 hour train ride this afternoon. Simmered it to perfection. As you might guess, I have neither the energy nor the necessary mental coherence right now (not that that's really ever been an obstacle before) to write about music. But this song is good, and you'll like it, I promise. Reverb out the wazoo. Pretty voice. Nice early 60's vibe to it. Like a warm bed and a strong cup of tea, it should be relished. Enjoy.
(Also, a small point of interest: David Berman of the Silver Jews answered the question I submitted, over on Jeff Johnson's Fitted Sweats (which everyone should be reading anyway).)
Posted by Kevin at 12:06 AM | TrackBack
May 04, 2005
Air was what birds flew through
Despistado - Broken
As I mentioned a little while back, Despistado broke up some time in December, but not before recording their debut full-length, "The People Of and Their Verses". This is what Joel Passmore (the band's bass player) had to say about the break-up, on the band's message board: "Dagan [lead singer and guitarist] quit the band. felt he wanted to move on in life. you may want to ask him for all the details. although dagan was willing to finish out the tour bren [drummer] wanted to go home." Passmore has apparently been concentrating his energies on his other band, Sylvie, and working with Despistado's Leif Thorseth (guitarist) on getting another project up and running, which is promising news, since Despistado were just so goddamn good.
'Broken' has all the traits of a standard Despistado burner: warm, frantic energy, the intriguing/baffling lyrics, and a certain rhythmic intensity. Everything that anyone could have come to expect from the amazing "Emergency Response" EP. But it's leaner, in a way, and more focused. At the start, there's a discreet, whispering guitar just sort of mindlessly stuck on a phrase- contrast that with the less polite, more confident guitar that emerges (with chunky chords) right before Dagan's ranting in the first verse (his voice is like Robert Smith's- especially the way it sounds like any and all anguish in his life and attendant disappointments live right in the back of his throat, like his words are filtered through something thick and intractable). After the first chorus, there's a beautiful little guitar noise that floats down every few seconds- it sounds like a wet glass rubbed by a finger. Dagan sings the chorus with unimpeachable passion, "This city is energy on the verge of collapse/and we're not feeling/like angels/despite the way that we look/we're all broken", and there's nothing that could convince me that this band wouldn't have been huge, had they stayed together (just listen to the ending of this song if you need proof).
Unfortunately, "The People Of and Their Verses" was not released as a physical album- since the band had broken up and weren't about to do any touring, Jade Tree decided to put it out digitally. Although I'm glad the record wasn't tied up in legal wrangling or anything, I can't help but think that the digital release will consign "The People Of..." to the status of 'cautionary tale', or at best it'll end up a curiosity. Hopefully it'll get some more attention soon. Anyway, if you're interested, you can buy the album online from Jade Tree.
P.S. I'm off to D.C. for a board meeting, so there won't be anything on Friday (maybe something over the weekend). Riding the train. Should be, um, fun(?).
Posted by Kevin at 10:14 PM | TrackBack
Back When Houses Were Bigger Than People
Ssion - Call Out the Lions
Ssion (phonetically, 'Shun') is wild, spooky, visceral. Cody Critcheloe directs this circus, a swirling mass of dirty cotton candy, sweaty costumes, and bruised bodies. A word of caution: the beats in this song are so unbelievably hard. If that two-beat bass-anchored pulse (you'll hear what I'm talking about) was transmitted in Morse code via telegraph, it would look (cartoonishly) like two baseball-sized lumps travelling in close proximity down the length of the wires, startling birds and distending metal couplings. The mission statement for 'Call Out the Lions' is announced right at the start, when Critcheloe sings, "Don't stand in your corner/waiting for your chance/make your own music/start your own dance". Perhaps the five-star moment of this track is the little breakdown towards the end when the band rides cymbal taps, dripped piano notes, and that high voltage bass through a repeated and audacious refrain of "Call Out the Lions!", into a whirlwind of screams and gasping.
Ssion's website seems to be out of commission right now, but you can order the LP this song comes from, "Opportunity Bless My Soul", from the fine people at Version City Records, right here.
P.S. You can finally (I know so many of you were totally waiting with bated breath for this too (yeah, right)) search the site directly for whatever the heck you might want to look for, e.g. how many times have I used the phrase "ruthlessly cool", etc.