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March 28, 2007
who's to say which is the way it should have been
Avey Tare and Panda Bear - I Remember Learning How to Dive (live at Other Music)
So nothing against Vashti Bunyan (who sang this on the "Prospect Hummer" EP) or anything, but this particular version of 'I Remember...', sung by Noah (Panda) and Dave (Avey) at an Other Music in-store a few years ago, is my absolute favorite, and (I think) one of the best songs Noah has ever written. It's too bad this didn't make it onto "Sung Tongs", because it would have rivaled the sun-bright cool-breeze beauty of 'Leaf House', 'Who Could Win A Rabbit', and 'Winter's Love'. 'I Remember...' is perpetually unbalanced, which makes sense, considering the subject matter- listen to the way Noah and Dave weave the lyrics through the cascade of chords, and the sweet, synchronized stomping, clapping, and guitar-tapping, and their perfectly matched vocals (the joy-capped "Wheeee" they both sing, or the way Dave's wild-child voice gives Noah's clear, gentle vocals a lift and a push at all the right times).
All but the extremely acrophobic probably have some sweet memories of climbing the slick, metal rungs of the ladder, stepping slowly onto the porous, coarse surface of the board, toeing the edges gingerly and looking down onto the light blue surface of the swimming pool, disregarding the internal impulses for self-preservation, and jump-jump-jumping out, straight out, into the air, into the water. This song is a song for everyday use; don't just listen to it on special occasions.
P.S. Thanks to everyone who's entered the contest so far- there have been some amazing entries.
Posted by Kevin at 07:58 AM | Comments (0)
March 20, 2007
wow
Since not a single soul entered the Sunny Day In Glasgow contest, I'm going to extend the deadline (which was St. Patrick's Day) to the end of the month, and simplify the rules a little:
1) Email the name of your favorite springtime song to molarscontest (at) gmail (dot) com. Add a sentence or two about the song and why you picked it, etc. Or just put the name of the song and then sign the email. Or, put the name of the song, explain why you love it, and then also explain any particular sleeping habits you might possess (e.g., I like to curl one of my arms underneath my chest when I sleep. It looks weird). Or, put the name of the song, and then submit your absolute best omelet recipe. Anything, really, would be acceptable.
The prize, to refresh your memory, is one (1) copy of A Sunny Day in Glasgow's debut album, "Scribble Mural Comic Journal". Maybe now that it's been reviewed on Pfork, people will actually believe me when I say that it's very, very good and extremely lovable.
Posted by Kevin at 06:25 AM | Comments (0)
March 19, 2007
the best county next to the best county
Chris Archibald sings this song like he's introducing himself at a party, like he's just arrived and everyone stops their conversations to check out the person who just walked in. There's confidence (the drums), but there's also the slightest air of insecurity (the background vocals long for attention). 'Screendoor' is a 2 minute molecule of a song, made of buoyant acoustic guitar, sweet voices and fuzzy, sunken bass, and it's quick, light, and wonderful. This is the kind of song you want on the tip of your tongue when your life suddenly and inexplicably turns into a musical.
Most of the members of this band come from the county in Pennsylvania right next the one in which I grew up. Bucks County (where Illinois are from) is best known to me as a place full of farms, forests, excellent soccer teams (!), and areas of rough, unexpected beauty (especially the more northwestern parts). Illinois have produced an EP, "What the Hell Do I Know", that's wild, overflowing, and engaging- the seven songs on the EP are all packed with different ideas, and a wide variety of sounds, super-catchy melodies, sweet banjo licks, etc. In a way, Illinois remind me of another (partially) Pennsylvania-based band: Akron/Family. Both bands are extremely versatile, and from song to song, you never quite know what you're going to get (both Illinois and Akron/Family make musical hairpin turns from atmospheric soundscapes to hook-rich mindblowing jams in the space of a few seconds). The band has apparently written hundreds of songs already (Archibald must be, like, prolific to a Pollardesque degree), which makes me pretty excited to hear the full-length; I think this is a band that's talented enough to do pretty much whatever it wants to, and they have the potential to produce some fantastic, compelling music.
This one's a handclap weekend jeremiad, piano with submerged vocals. The drummer builds a small structure out of clicks, cymbal hits, and crafty stick-work. A nice expression of selective quasi-fatalism: "They say everything happens for a reason/not all of it is needed", and references (maybe) to Love and love.
[BUY]
Posted by Kevin at 07:30 AM | Comments (0)
March 11, 2007
Pennsylvania is a quilt of forests and mountains
So, the mystery of what happened to Racecar has finally been solved. The band is once again active, they've been playing some shows over the past 6 months, and they're about to (re-)release "10 Songs" on Tillie Records some time this spring. Great news all around, because this band is not only ridiculously talented but also still very young. The kind people at Tillie sent me a promo of the album, and I was able to finally listen to the band's debut LP, which is, unsurprisingly, fantastic. Racecar write music that falls within the standard framework of indie rock, but the songs, individually, are very interesting and diverse on a fine-grain level; I mean, almost no two songs on this album sound exactly alike (but there are some underlying elements that make the whole thing pretty cohesive), which I think is pretty impressive for a debut album to demonstrate that kind of overall variety and wealth of ideas.
[This is what I wrote about this song before, and I don't think I can say it any better]:
It's like going over a waterfall in a barrel- 'Out Tonight' starts off as a leisurely, delicate thing: guitars chiming and commiserating over the "stale cigarette breath", the "hands made with Teflon". Then it starts to pick up a little- static hissing small whirlpools of turbulence that flank the chorus, "you and me/ we'll go out tonight", and suddenly the song switches gears entirely, and it's a freefall through wild torrents of bass, drums, yelling, and foamy siren-sounds. And, subsequently, a return to the calmness of the first part of the track. 'Out Tonight' reminds me of Ted Leo's 'Timorous Me' (one of his best songs ever, by far), just in the way it delivers such a joyful blast of melody and energy in the middle of the song- and like Ted Leo, Racecar know enough to exercise some restraint and leave it at that (just once), which just makes you want to play the song over and over again (not a bad indulgence, really). Plus, for whatever reason (and also like 'Timorous Me'), this song makes me think of a huge party, like a wedding reception or something similar, where everyone's smiling and dancing and happy either in their own right or in reflection of the atmosphere.
'D is the New C', on the other hand, is straight-up kinetic, with a strong, thick guitar line, and wild, jogging drums. There's a sort of mewling keyboard accompaniment as well, which makes the song sound even more agitated and urgent. The lyrics (more on those later) in the verses are delivered at a breakneck pace in a throttled falsetto, and then in the chorus, the band mixes in a lower, distorted voice to whisper "I don't know where/we are going". The subject of the song (as elaborated on by the band here) seems to be the alienating side-effects of modern forms of communication and the attendant withering of true, expressive intimacy; one of the best aspects of 'D is the New C' is the way the band gets their point across via the production and esp. the way they modulate the vocals (around the 2:00 min. mark, when that sweet, chirpy guitar phrase enters, the two vocal lines mix and slur into a messy, high-pitched tangle) to effectively blur the lyrics (in a form-follows-function way) and make it difficult to clearly discern exactly what it is they're saying.
There's one other song from the album that I want to talk about, and that's 'Bill the Inanimate Object' (which you can listen to over at the band's website), which is a devastating and pretty work of intense desolation. What it reminds me of, more than anything else, is an illustration from an old Dr. Seuss book (I wish I could remember which one, but I have no idea), in which a coat hanger is shown suspended on a thin wire above an isolated canyon. When I saw this picture as a kid, it terrified me, since (sympathizing with the coat hanger) I could think of almost nothing worse than being abandoned and forgotten and relegated to an existence of blank, unwavering loneliness. As far as I can tell, that's pretty much what this song is about- someone's (or something's) concentrated feelings of abandonment. What makes it hit home so hard are those soft, deep, curvy synth patches that prop up the chorus (I don't know what it is about that particular sound, but like Boards of Canada's music, it makes me think of empty, well-lit parking lots and things that are remotely decayed or left in disrepair).
"10 Songs" isn't yet available to purchase, but if you're interested in hearing more from the album, leave a comment or send me an email (address is over on the sidebar), and I'll put you in touch with someone from the label.
P.S. Do people no longer enjoy free CDs? There are exactly zero entries so far for the new Sunny Day in Glasgow contest. The rules aren't too complex, I swear.
Posted by Kevin at 07:36 AM | Comments (0)
March 08, 2007
shards of magnets
Has anyone else listened to the 'Some People' mix that the Avalanches put up on their website? I think it may be one of the better long-form mixes I've heard in a while (since the DFA radio mixes, probably). I don't recognize a lot of the source material, but I did pick out a few things by the Who, Cheap Trick, Jackson 5 (there's an amazing steel-drum rendition of the main melody from 'I Want You Back' that mixes into the original song), Talking Heads, Lady Sov, and Pusha (I think) from the Clipse, and the whole mix just works so well, and at 40+ minutes, it's definitely a worthwhile, engaging listen. One of the highlights is a song by Victor Uwaifo called 'Guitar Boy' (around the 10 min. mark), which is built around these unbelievably elegant tremolo guitar lines and soaked in a cascade of strange electronic bubbles (you just have to hear it). I wish the Avalanches would release some of the other mixes they have labeled as 'coming soon' on their site (esp. the Big Tent Set, the Gimix one, and the Yoga Mind Meld Zombie Relaxation Tape). Go check out 'Some People' if you haven't already (and download 'Ray of Zdarlight' too, since it's pretty much impeccable).
Posted by Kevin at 07:26 AM | Comments (0)
March 05, 2007
scrounge for roots and shoots
Nicole Atkins has the sort of soft-edged, dusky voice that delivers bad news in the most alluring way; it's easy to imagine her leaning over in a chair and whispering some secret disaster into your ear, a pleasant little storm of words and breath. She clothes her vocals in this song with pounding, jaunty piano notes, tinselly chimes, wayward coos, and strong, four-cornered guitars, but you can still hear the sweetness on her voice, the hint of her too-old sadness that's turned (eventually) into nostalgia.
'Carouselle' is a little lament about small-town life, in particular the struggle between maintaining the old, historic and quaint versus the need for continuous growth and expansion and renovation. At one point, Nicole sings, "here comes the wrecking ball/so my town can live", which pretty well expresses the weird cycle of semi-annual demolition/construction that hangs on towns metastasized by sprawl, etc. (a strange coincidence: my own hometown is building an antique carousel in an effort to increase tourism, interest, business, whatever, which makes me think that maybe they're going about it the wrong way). Also, this song has one of the better false endings I've heard this year (not quite as surprising as LCD Soundsystem's 'New York I Love You, But You're Bringing Me Down', but still pretty good).
'Carouselle' is from the "Bleeding Diamonds" EP, which you can buy here. There's an LP on the way too, "Neptune City", which is coming out in the early part of summer (6/26).
Posted by Kevin at 07:18 PM | Comments (0)