In the same way that a gullible kid could be convinced that his echoing voice is really a half dozen people calling back from the horizon, this track always tricks me for a moment into thinking it's more than just Liz Harris and her guitar (well it's certainly more, but those are its component parts) . It's lonely and intimate, but her solitude sounds grand. I'd believe she was alone in an abandoned undersea kingdom before I could picture her in a sparsely furnished bedroom. This is probably the prettiest track I heard all year, and the one that sounded most like a forgotten day that I once swore I'd never forget. JK

Hercules & Love Affair - "Hercules' Theme"

Mythology teaches that being the strongest man on earth can lead to a small boost in confidence that can turn any hero into quite the ladies' man, man's man, and for that matter everything that moves' man. In pop culture terms, it seems that Hercules was the Gladiator version of Russel Crowe mixed with the sex drive of Prince. In any event it takes quite a musical number to thematically represent the son of Zeus. Their namesake, Hercules and Love Affair, nail it. The steady rhythm of the song's beginning is quickly swept up into a flurry of disco horn lines that are complimented by layers of string loops and vocals that must have been kept in a hedonic box in the back room of a some Manhattan club since 1977. As the song winds deeper we are suddenly met with something altogether unique and new where after a brief pause the repetitive horn line is sequestered by high hat clicks. The bass then makes a late entrance and the room erupts into a frenzy as a Gillespie-like horn solo paves the song into climax and completion. Disco never went to this place, three decades later perhaps it is ready. Y. Korngold

the Long Blondes - "Century"

By far, 2008's saddest musical footnote was the sudden illness of Dorian Cox, and the resulting hiatus of the Long Blondes. Beyond basic human sympathy, the lead track from "Couples" establishes the grounds for our loss. The band's established sharp guitar sass gives way to Italo-via-Portland disco. Kate Jackson quits pouting and starts channeling lyrics from an hazy, impressionistic future. This track finds our favorite Brits on the verge of something new. It's crushing to think that now we might never fully arrive. JK

Black Mountain - "Angels"

Haven't enough artists already recorded a song with some number of the word "angel" in the title? Wikipedia lists some 30 titles, although this isn't one of them. Perhaps the draw is the automatic associative power of the celestial. When you write about anything of self-evident importance, an immediate authority is leant to your song, even if the song itself is lacking. Not that Black Mountain's entry into the angel pantheon shows any want. All of the requisite themes are here, subdued meter, intense instrumental breakdown, and of course, roaring string section – but in each case, the clichés are built up only to be broken down. The "angel" in question is a women lured into temptation, implored to "lay [her] halo down" as the song drags us down into the sleaziness of mortality. R. Monty

Memory Cassette - "50mph"

This is what's playing inside one of those cars in Minority Report that wrap around buildings—not during the Cruise chase sequence, but later on, as the suns are setting, and the working stiff of the crimeless future is heading home, thinking sexual thoughts about the face of a woman he saw on one of those giant LED billboards. He's wondering whether it's appropriate to lust after a mirage, but he can't keep from singing along with the song's possibly human voice, "Gravity's got nothing on us" and with a flick of his finger, cues the song back up again. DK

TV on the Radio - "Golden Age"

"There's a golden age comin' round" may not be meant to be taken at face value, but there's genuine hope in the midst of all this dark funk, and it's all the more apropos in the wake of Obama. While TVOTR hasn't jettisoned its trademark spookiness, the strings soar high above the knotty rhythms, providing celebratory commentary to a song that, if it were any denser, might very well preclude dancing. Building up to a glorious fadeout that echoes that of the Heads' "Once in a Lifetime," "Golden Age" also seems to echo and update Paul Simon's "days of miracles and wonder" for more complicated times. For my money, the song of the year. DK

Frightened Rabbit - "The Twist"

Imagine spending a long college weekend at some foreign, cold-weather city. (Say, Toronto.) And imagine that you're trolling the streets, hopping from unknown bar to unknown bar, and you're trapped in the glorious, sweaty alcoholic haze where time stands still and moves infinitely forward at the speed of light. And all of a sudden you're the best dancer in the whole damn bar and you're partnered with a cute someone and you have no idea where it's going, but that's ok because you feel like the night would never end. And right now this is the only place in the world you want to be even though you're pretty certain this relationship will never see the light of day. And you have no idea who this person is! That would be perfect. RM

#52 - 41
#40 - 31

Posted by Jeff Klingman at 11:45 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Multi-night stands leading up to big New Years Eve blowouts this week in Colorado. Slim Cessna's Auto Club, the Flobots, Flogging Molly and Widespread Panic are all holding residency at their respective venues for the last days of 2008. Happy New Year folks. May 2009 invite health, joy, and much love.

Monday, December 29
Flobots @ Gothic Theatre
Yonder Mountain String Band @ Ogden Theater

Tuesday, December 30
Flobots @ Gothic Theatre
Flogging Molly @ Fillmore Auditorium
Lotus @ Fox Theatre
Quicksand Profits @ Larimer Lounge
Rose Hill Drive performing Led Zeppelin II @ Boulder Theater
Slim Cessna's Auto Club @ Bluebird Theater
Widespread Panic @ Pepsi Center

Wednesday, December 31
Big Head Todd And The Monsters @ Ogden Theater
Flobots @ Gothic Theatre
Flogging Molly @ Fillmore Auditorium
The Future Party @ Hi-Dive
Houses @ Larimer Lounge
Lotus @ Fox Theatre
The Motet @ Walnut Room
Rose Hill Drive performing Led Zeppelin II @ Boulder Theater
Slim Cessna's Auto Club @ Bluebird Theater
Widespread Panic @ Pepsi Center

Friday, January 2
Come Forth By Day @ Marquis Theater
I Sank Molly Brown @ Larimer Lounge
Junior Brown @ Fox Theatre
Kill Syndicate @ Bluebird Theater
Nightshark @ Hi-Dive

Saturday, January 3
Bonobo (DJ Set) @ Fox Theatre
Cory Morrow @ Soiled Dove
Foma* @ Hi-Dive
Popwreck @ Larimer Lounge
Redo @ Marquis Theater
Switchpin @ Bluebird Theater

Schedule appears courtesy of Mystik Spiral.

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December 25, 2008

Kate Bush - "December Will be Magic Again"
(1979 Christmas Special)

Posted by Jeff Klingman at 11:53 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

the Fall - "No X-mas for John Quays" + WPIX Yule Log

By an Actual Christmas Fire, with Mark E. Smith

Posted by Jeff Klingman at 11:43 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 24, 2008

Blitzen Trapper - "Not Your Lover"

The plot is explained in the first two lines, (the ominousness of marriage) and develops only in the sense that it continuously reiterates the track's main themes: regret and hopeful optimism. Yet, instead of treating these feelings as contradictory opposites, they are framed as coexisting, and perhaps, symbiotic. In The Interpretation of Dreams, Sigmund Freud writes, "All men are great in their dreams," but nowhere does he assert that he's "a moonwalking cowboy" as Trapper proudly claim through closed eyes. R. Monty

Annie - "I Know UR Girlfriend Hates Me"

At once objective and cocky, "I Know UR Girlfriend Hates Me" might inspire a legion of delusional single women to adopt it as an inaccurate rallying cry of self-confidence, but we shan't hold that against Miss Strand. She's the reigning pop princess of Indie Rock Land, and can do no wrong. Besides, working off the song's video, it's almost impossible to ascertain Annie's intentions, be they coquettish or harmless. At one moment she's a voluptuous and monochromatic chanteuse, the next she's modestly dressed to match her tea set. Whatever the suit, she seems thrust into the role of pop star, rather than self-placed. Unlike comparable contemporaries, Annie isn't attempting to take over the world through focus-grouped sex appeal, which is commendable. But all things considered, with those perfect Norwegian cheekbones, immaculate marble jaw line and even tighter production (thanks to Richard X), if she so chooses, Annie could certainly do just that. RM

Blood on the Wall - "Junkee...Jullleee"

The drumming is present and consistent, but it's the bass dribbling that does all of the work. Strained vocals are harmonized by violent, barely-tuned strums. Right around the two-minute mark, the solo guitar screams across the sky in total ecstasy. And at the end, the song breaks down in a heap rather than come to a formal close. Sound familiar? Sure, the Blood on the Wall/Pixies comparisons are just, but there are certainly worse artists to cop, and besides, "Jullleee" stands up to (almost) anything in the influencing band's catalogue. RM

Blank Dogs - "Setting Fire to Your House"

Brooklyn record store clerk Mike Sniper, the year's most persistent oddball, kept screaming into the void, even as he hid his face from the spotlight. Singles, LPs, and cassettes bled freely from Sniper's jagged synths. They were mostly all packed with hooks, but smothered by violent fuzz. His best piece of bedroom butchery was this Dutch-released single which, despite the obscurity of its release, seemed the least melodically ashamed and the most rhythmically strident. Gas-soaked rags in one hand and a flickering match in the other, it's tough to come across meek in moments such as these. J. Klingman

Wolf Parade - "Fine Young Cannibals"

Pulsating bass, clean plucky guitar, Spencer Krug's keyboard bursts, and Dan Boeckner's raspy voice projecting like a blossoming modern bluesman. Clear, precise and measured here (dare I say mature?), sounding far less harried than their earlier, more erosive material. This says a lot; since the scope of the band's yield is not nearly as prolific as perceived without the weight from the considerable output of associated side projects. M. Swankster

M83 - "Graveyard Girl"

What with the Cure and all, you'd think that there must have been an 80s teen movie that shoehorned in a goth at some point. But, sadly, the pioneering mascara-men and graveyard girls of that era had to wait another couple decades for their archetype to finally shine (in a pop song if not the projection room). Our heroine asks, "I'm fifteen years old, and I already feel like it's too late to live. Don't you?" As society seems to crumble around us, minute by minute, yeah I guess I kind of do. The painted black polish is wrapped in New Wave sunshine, though, adding an extra layer of goony nostalgia for the good old days when fatalism was an indulgent put-on, and not a sober acknowledgment. JK

Be Your Own Pet - "Becky"

Tracked to a punked up version of "Locomotion", "Becky" is cartoonish teen angst of the murderous variety. Intertwined with scenes of typical young girl banality, the storyboards are more saccharine than sinister. Regardless, Universal’s infinite wisdom forced the group to drop "Becky" from their album for being too violent. Shortly after, the band broke up. BYOP-RIP 2008. MS

the Breeders -"Overglazed"

The first track from Mountain Battles, the second album from the Breeders' second act is also the shortest. Lyrically, this song doesn't have much to say other than "I can feel it!", and the title itself lends very little to interpretation. But as the vocals and guitars bleed into one echoing mash of reverb, and the octopus-drumming plays its own song, the introductory statement becomes apparent and authoritative: the raw emotive power of music is something visceral and not restrained by time. And you can most definitely feel it. RM

Of Montreal - "An Eluardian Instance"

Kevin Barnes lost some of the riders who hitched on the Hissing Fauna train after 2008's Skeletal Lamping. This track should be seen by those astray as a ticket for reintroduction. In telling the story of meeting his future wife, it shares the confessional personality of Hissing Fauna with none of the Georgie Fruit narrative. But as if not able to resist himself, Barnes extends beyond the song’s expected end with a down tempo, space-disco tag. The words "this inbreeding of ideas is intolerable" appear like a hidden footnote in plain view – perhaps a cryptic rubric revelation for the record? "No, but yes, oh well, oh well, yes and no."

Of Montreal - "Mingusings" (tie / couldn't decide)

“Mingusings” comes off as a much more straightforward relative to the rest of Skeletal Lamping. Anthemic touches in lyrics like "Sisters don't you know/Our shit is only going to get better" beg for singalong while classic Of Montreal bluster guides the heavy use of multi-textured, frenetic rhythms. For an album built on superficially haphazard stitching, this compact three-minute track follows traditional structures. It even ends with a grinding, sawmill guitar outro that could easily find a home in the grungy early 90s. Ironically it’s the lack of weird that makes it the odd one out. MS

Empire of the Sun - "Walking on a Dream"

Some songs put a smile on your face; this one makes me absolutely giddy, which befits a song about the delectable anticipation of perfect sexual congress. When singer Luke Steele's voice ascends to the Prince-like falsetto he often employed with his previous band, the Sleepy Jackson, it's an expression of pure joy. A quick Google search reveals that the chorus goes, "Is it real now?/Two people become one" but I must confess that after 20 listens, I was sure it was, "A soprano/Do people come home." Quickly clearing up such mysteries has its advantages, but sometimes I yearn for the days when song lyrics could be a matter of debate. D. Klein

#52 - 41

Posted by Jeff Klingman at 01:36 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

In a review of Of Montreal's 11.16.08 show in Denver I wrote:

Besides the puzzled inquiries a few were verifiably freaked out. Most memorable was a kid sporting massive dinnerplated pupils screaming “Oh My God” incredulously while holding his face in disbelief. He raised his hands towards the heavens as if pleading for understanding. The cause of his outburst was a giant 2-man puppet flapping and kicking its giant arms and legs around.

Of Montreal performed "An Eluardian Instance" on Letterman last week. In minute 2:16 the papier-mâché beast appears.

Of Montreal - "An Eluardian Instance" Live on David Letterman 12.18.08

Posted by Merry Swankster at 12:10 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 23, 2008

The number 60 gives us no less than a sense of mastery over time. What would we do without the 60 seconds that make up the 60 minutes that make up our hours? Civilization would collapse. And we wouldn’t have songs like “Sixty Second Interval” by the Vapors. (Anyone hoping for a hidden gem by the men who brought you “Turning Japanese” would be wiser to consult the first half of New Clear Days (1980). “60 Seconds” by China Drum, the hard-rocking outfit whose audacious version of Kate Bush’s “Wuthering Heights” is one of the great radical cover songs in recent memory, comes up short with the generic-sounding “60 Seconds.” Far better is Ennio Morricone’s “Sixty Seconds to What?” from the For a Few Dollars More soundtrack. With its yearning trumpet and bombastic church organ, it immediately calls to mind the iconic visage of a stogie-chomping, poncho-draped Clint Eastwood. As Clint will tell you, living to be 60 years of age is no big deal these days. According to a recent study, 70-year-olds feel 15 years younger than their age. That might have surprised the young Elton John, who wrote “Sixty Years On” early in his career and liked it enough to include it on both his self-titled debut record and the numerically toothsome live album 7-12-71. Addressing old age, Elton demonstrates a heady prescience of infirmities yet to be experienced as well as his precocious melodic gifts.

The great American composer Aaron Copland said, “If you want to know about the Sixties, play the music of the Beatles.” Indeed, the 60s were a decade whose overriding cultural force was a single pop group, yet encapsulating the decade in a song has proven to be a tricky business. T. Bone Burnett gave it his best shot, but despite vocal help from Pete Townshend, “The Sixties” comes off as heavy-handed social commentary (Sample lyric: “Auto dealers don’t just sell drive-trains/Sometimes they also deal cocaine”) Most people know Burnett as the Grammy-winning producer of O Brother Where Art Thou? as well as the Robert Plant/Allison Krause smash collaboration, Raising Sand. But Burnett played guitar with Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Review in the mid-‘70s and had a critically acclaimed, commercially marginal solo career in which he gained support from an impressive array of rock royalty, including Mick Ronson, Elvis Costello, Richard Thompson, and Bono. Despite these impressive credits, his albums sold poorly, and it’s not hard to see why: despite his abilities as a writer and arranger, Mr. Burnett’s nasal singing voice is an acquired taste to say the least. He had a penchant for substituting narration for singing, an approach with limited appeal. “The Sixties,” is just such a narrative. It begins, “I have a painter friend who says he’s actually slept with Jacqueline Kennedy… or was it John Kennedy? Maybe it was Jacqueline Bisset. At any rate I can tell I’m starting wrong. Let me begin again.” Sadly, he does begin again, and the result lends an eerie prescience to a lyric his man Dylan would write more than a decade later: “The next sixty seconds could be like an eternity.” Sub-T. Bone efforts of this ilk include the irony-deficient “Green-Tinted Sixties Mind” by Mr. Big, “Sixties Man,” a trifle by the Sweet, well past their prime, which scatters allusions to Woodstock and San Francisco over a faux new wave beat, and Barclay James Harvest’s “A Tale of Two Sixties,” which references Bowie’s Hunky Dory and Aladdin Sane (both from the ‘70s), serving only to make the Sweet look historically astute in comparison. Perhaps wisely, “Six Six Sixties” by Throbbing Gristle and “Sixties Remake” by Tokyo Police Club employ “60s” as part of an evocative title phrase and leave it at that.

Nico - "Sixty Forty"

The ‘60s were good to Nico (formerly Christa Päffgen), whose achievements in that decade included acclaim as an international fashion model, appearing in La Dolce Vita, fronting the Velvet Underground on their groundbreaking first record, inspiring Bob Dylan to write “I’ll Keep it With Mine,” and attending the Monterey Pop Festival on the arm of Brian Jones. She left it all behind in the ‘70s to forge her own stubborn musical path in collaborations with Brian Eno and others, but her career and personal life took a cruelly downward spiral. Despite producing some critically praised records, she fell into near obscurity and heroin addiction, and spent years living in out-and-out squalor. In 1988, she moved to Ibiza and tried to turn it all around, only to have a bicycle accident end things once and for all. The music from her final years was increasingly bleak, still sung in the haunted, slightly flat voice that was her signature, adorned in the end by only a mournful harmonium. “Sixty Forty” is so bleak you want to run and hide, with lyrics that chill you to the bone like a New York winter:

“At least I've given it away
/To keep it only would have made me stay

Will there be another time? Will there be another time?”

New Order - "60 Miles an Hour"

Sixty miles an hour is a critical benchmark in the automotive world. Seventies soft-rockers Pablo Cruise actually worked themselves into a lather with “Zero to Sixty in Five,” which was deemed rockin’ enough to earn a spot in Guitar Hero II, but New Order’s “60 Miles an Hour” certainly wins the 60 mph crown. Showing off everything this legendary outfit does well, it more than lives up to its celebration of the cruising ethos, while suffering slightly from having to follow the godlike “Crystal” both as a single and in the record’s song sequence. Regardless, the powerful melody and soaring production add up to track with plenty of staying power, and in absence of strong competition it would be good enough for the top spot.

Boards of Canada - "Sixtyten"

Here’s a set of oddball 60-related songs I offer up in the name of completeness: “Sixtyten” by Boards of Canada, a spooky yet vaguely funky number from the excellent Music Has a Right to Children, “Sixty Sixty,” an off-the-cuff instrumental from the late-era Faust, “60%,”a spirited blast of pop-punk by NOFX, and “60 Revolutions” from Gogol Bordello, whose lead singer starred in Madonna’s directorial debut and was cheekily described in the New Yorker as “explosively hairy.” Bob Seger, who is no slouch in the hairy department, gave The Numeral Formerly Known As Three Score a measure of pop immortality in “Night Moves” when he solemnly rasped, “Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy/Out in the back seat of my ’60 Chevy.”

Gogol Bordello - "60 Revolutions"
(live on Later with Jools Holland)

But songs about 60 as a rate of speed, a signifier of a decade or a measure of time cannot but pale next to one celebrating the glories of what can be accomplished in a single 60-minute period. Thus, “Sixty Minute Man” by Billy Ward & the Dominoes leaves them all in the dust. It’s one of the great sexual boasts in musical history, and it’s all the more striking for becoming a national hit in 1951. It hardly needs to be said that musical expressions of raw carnality were not a staple of the pop charts during the Truman administration. (Chart-toppers that year included Patti Page’s “The Tennessee Waltz,” “Aba Daba Honeymoon” by Debbie Reynolds, and “On Top of Old Smokey” by the Weavers.) The raw blues has a long history of such references, of course, but when blues songs became crossover hits, the sex tended to be cloaked in metaphor e.g., “I’m like a one-eyed cat peeping in a seafood store” or imagery that sounded like voodoo incantations, e.g., “I got a black cat bone/I got a mojo, too.” But Billy Ward and his salacious protagonist, Lovin’ Dan—whose sexual prowess and stamina was voiced by the rich bass of Bill Brown, and not Clyde McPhatter, the Dominoes’ celebrated vocalist—were having none of it. “Sixty Minute Man” leaves little to the imagination:

Billy Ward & the Dominoes - "Sixty Minute Man"

There'll be 15 minutes of kissing

I'm a sixty-minute man

Many radio stations banned it, but the song went to no. 1 on the R&B charts and became a crossover hit under the guise of a “novelty song.” As outrageous as the lyrics were, it wouldn’t have become a classic if it weren’t so downright irresistible, with its sly guitar licks, spirited backing vocals, and delightfully swinging arrangement courtesy of the Julliard-trained musical prodigy Billy Ward. These days, sexual boasting is commonplace, but this recording has a light touch and a sense of joy that’s never been matched, even by John Lee Hooker, who upped the ante in 2006 with “Four Hours Straight.”

Numerology is our pal Dave's ill advised quest to find the definitive song for every number from one to a hundred. The higher the digit, the lonelier the climb.

Previously: No. 1, 2-4, , 4 (redux), 5-7, 6 (redux), 7 (counterpoint), 8, 9, 10/11, 12/13. 13 (counterpoint), 14/15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26/27, 28 , 29 , 30, 30 (counterpoint), 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46 , 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, Footnotes, 57, 58, 59

Posted by David Klein at 12:30 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

[All photos by Merry Swankster]

Earlier this month a not unexpectedly, though still embarrassingly empty Hi-Dive greeted Norwegian pop songstress Sissy Wish to Denver. At its peak not more than twenty-five people could be counted - including staff. It seemed even more empty with 95% of that crowd lurking far back from the stage in the dark shadows of the drafty venue. A Tuesday night booking in weather that, it goes without saying, was less than favorable probably didn't help matters. Unfortunately for the slumbering uninitiated and those who declined the guaranteed warmth of an early week Nordic pop exposition, they missed what very well could be the most strangely honest and surprising show of the year.

Sissy Wish's star is Siri Wålberg and her unique approach to live performance could not be better described than by simply taking accounts from the few witnesses who fell in love with her adorable goofiness. The way Wålberg's oddball bowl of a hairstyle betrays her perfect face-framing cheekbones is an appropriate analogy for her striking stage persona. While I'm told she enjoys massive success in Norway, similar notions get relegated to the proverbial 'big in Japan' for oversea audiences with no context for what that means. I might as well mention that Sissy Wish won a Norwegian Grammy in 2004 with her debut You May Breathe (true). Since both achievements are as relevant to non-Norwegians as the evil fun that can be had debating the hilarity of nationally tailored Grammys, it basically becomes a punchline. One that we should probably refrain from indulging in.

Sissy Wish's live production provided a great case for why richly textured pop is a genre best enacted by professionals behind the cornucopia of a digital soundboard. When one can clearly tell there is more going on than just button pushing and rotating of knobs the experience of modern shows is enhanced. Of course, no manner of technical observation can make up for the missing energy that comes only from excited crowds. The swaggering "Yayaya" enticed as best it could for an all out dance party, but the toxic mix of painfully sparse space and extreme avoidance of human pack-breaking ultimately doomed one of Beauties Never Die standouts. Instead of wiggling masses of humanity we got to see the "magic" it takes to create Sissy Wish's music. It is cool though to see it happen before your very eyes. Call me old fashioned but I'm a sucker for organically grown electronic music. Organic electronic music. It's a brave new world.

Wålberg embodies a convoluted mix of self-conscious awkwardness in this new bravery, like that of a hyper-observant, doe-eyed tourist constantly taking stock of its surroundings. Girly artifacts from Grease-era Olivia Newton-John distinctly permeated her singing. From her style to her looks, there was the appearance of unfaithfully backing away from awareness by overloading on helpings of femininity. Buttered together with goofy marionette dance moves, the result is something altogether original and impossible not to love. Her jerky dancing was nothing but infectious, evidenced empirically by a good quarter of the crowd boogieing along to the entrancing performance. While a fourth of < 25 people would typically be a sad showing, comparing proportionally, such an amount of people rarely exude such feedback. Even popular acts with familiar material often struggle to engage a similar crowd percentage. When complete unknowns like Sissy Wish do it, the entire experience becomes that much more genuine

There's no way of knowing if future forays through America will produce better door takes. It would be excellent to think so. Better still if more come out to feed back the energy that Siri so desperately begs to feed off from.

Stocking stuffer:

Sissy Wish - "Float"

'Best of' list season is in in full effect. Here's a glimpse back to last year's #50.

Previously:

Sissy Wish, Live @ the Knitting Factory Tap Bar, NYC 07.08.2008

Posted by Merry Swankster at 12:00 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 22, 2008

Ladyhawke - "My Delirium"

This arresting single by multitalented New Zealand songstress Pip Brown pulls you into the percolating psychodrama of a messed-with woman who isn't coy about the fact that she's losing it. The atmosphere is at once desperate and dangerous—and anchored by deadly hooks. And just when you think you've got the whole thing sussed, the bottom drops out into a languid, creamy near-silence. The Kim Wilde '80s synth-pop vibe is unmistakable, but when you strip away the smoky vocals and propulsive beat, what's left is a twitchy guitar figure that wouldn't sound out of place on a Gang of Four record. D. Klein

Marnie Stern - "Ruler"

The way Marnie Stern roars into action here, I'm willing to take her at her word that she hasn't slept for days. That nothing can keep her down, that she regularly grabs victory from defeat's jaws, and even that she charmed chaos into the beginnings of a beautiful friendship--fine, I buy it all. But boasts of time travel? Laws of physics circumnavigated through sheer pluck? Then again, consider her rise to acclaim, how she hunkered down in her bedroom for years before emerging as a full-throttle guitar virtuoso. She's got grit, good humor, and crackling positive energy to spare. Maybe she can crack the flux capacitor? Come to think of it, I remember a photo that nagged at me all throughout AP European History class. The one of the incongruously smiley blond girl sitting next to Stalin, Roosevelt, and Churchill at Yalta? Oh...my...GOD... J. Klingman

Diet Cola - "Sick Modern"

If Deerhunter's Josh Fauver has been mentioned much at all in the year-end morass, it's been for the perverted kraut bass line he laid square in the middle of that band's "Nothing Ever Happened." Though less surgically sinister, I've been playing this sloppy, obscure trifle he coughed out on the side even more often. There are lots of things happening in it. Constantly. The monicker "Diet Cola" conjures a sense of moderation, a tiny bit of self-denial with an effect more psychological than anything. It couldn't be less fitting. There's punk rock jet fuel in this can, and no one's bothered checking the calorie count. J.K.

Jay Reatard - "An Ugly Death"

There a good head fake at the beginning of this song, sold more efficiently by Jay's cloud of frizzed to death curls. Of course it was going to be a destructive DIY explosion, but he bought an extra long wick, tightly weaved of Spector drums and psycho strings. On the verses, he practically barks. "An!" "Ugly!" "Death!" "For A!" "Pret-ty!" "Girl!" The chorus' bursts of Clean-esque enthusiasm seems so carefree in comparison. When compulsively singing along, it's tough to put the pieces together. "For You, For Me, For All to See," I've sung happily dozens of times. But wait a second, is this track celebrating a snuff film? Those are some sophisticated creeps you've given us, Reatard. JK

Beyonce - "Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)"

Through a shrewd series of moves, you've traded in your measly Midwestern governorship for a plum position managing one of the nation's most precious resources: Beyonce. Things are going to be different now. Sure, the pantsless-dance videos can stay--that's just good policy. And of course, there's a lot to like in the current Beyonce production bureaucracy. The departments of handclaps, nagging synth squeals, and taking no shit from Jay-Z are all performing admirably. But those diva breakdowns, the ones that derail the cool minimalism and make her songs seem more ordinary than they really are, those will go. This will be your legacy.

"Mr. Secretary, Beyonce's on the phone. She wants to know what happened to her diva breakdown."

You are in way over your head.

-JK

Air France - "June Evenings"

"Spring has arrived early here; a time for lovers. And it is as if the season mocks my sadness." The first line of "June Evenings" sums it up pretty well. The central vocal is tear-stained, fragile. But around it, everything's bursting into full-color life, sprouting magnificent plumes, bearing young, and getting drunk on standing pools of nectar. You'd think our gal might cheer up in the face of it all, but her melancholy is flowering into something wonderful as well. JK

Stereolab - "Three Women"

Even in the smallest corner of Dali’s brain that is labeled as “too weird for the public” you would be hard pressed to find an image that equates to the surreal line in “Three Women” that enchants, “quand le monstre des mers titille” or as the English would say, “where the sea monster is titillating.” Only in a Stereolab song could a creature like the Loch Ness Monster be transformed into a sexual object. “Three Women” is catapulted with breeze filled Motown-esque horn lines ushered in with poppy but dense layers of rhythm. In this animated dreamscape arguing that the sound of Stereolab is too familiar is like complaining that the plot lines of Tom & Jerry overlap. Just suspend some belief and enjoy the program. Y. Korngold

the Ruby Suns - "Kenya Dig It?"

Lots of fuss has been made over song’s title/ lesson in bad puns but let’s just be happy Ryan McPhun’s explorations in sound didn’t take him to other countries on the African continent, or we could have ended up with a song called “Shake Djibuouti,” or “I’m Ghana Make You Dance!” or even a desperate “More rock, oh?” With a whimsical dreamlike beginning, the song winds from the thrusts of a drinking song for those toasting on a Yellow Submarine into powerful and elegant phrases of beauty. The ending is so strong that the most circulated video of this number contained only of the song’s last two minutes. In these last two minutes there is a build up under the spell of chime crashes that march into an ethereal dialogue of “what the kid’s don’t know/ just let them go” or as Pete Townshend would say, “the kids are alright.” - Y.K.

the Ting Tings - "That's Not My Name"

Part cheerleader-type call out, part lament, "That's Not My Name" demonstrates the Ting Ting's attention to detail. Starting out with a simple bass drum backbeat, Katie White glides in with a straightforward, slow-moving verse, before the chorus leads to an indignant anthem about what a travesty it is that such a memorable person is oft wrongly stereotyped and forgotten. Enriched by little flourishes like a simple ascendant guitar at the end of each chorus stanza, and Jules De Martino's subtle backup vocals, the song enjoyably chugs along briskly. K. O'Brien

Hot Chip - "One Pure Thought"

"One Pure Thought" is what Wyld Stallyns would have sounded like if Bill and Ted had spent their high school days adoring New Order and Talk Talk instead of Slaughter and, inexplicably, Enya. And wouldn't that have been way better? All the time listening to Cheap Trick and David Byrne would still be evident, but the end product would have been a whole lot cooler, and a bit more accurately futuristic. That Hot Chip so effectively combine their influences without showing the seams is a testament to the common ground of fun and sincerity, even if the occasional Austin audience totally doesn't get it. R. Monty

Lil' Wayne - "Got Money"

"I don't write rhymes, because I don't have time" – Lil Wayne, "A Milli"

Perhaps we're all well served by that. Because what he writes in his blog for ESPN: The Magazine makes even less sense than some of his lyrics – "Let's say you're a goon. Well, what's a goon to a goblin? Nothing. They're the same thing. So are the Raiders goons and the Titans the goblins? No, because the Titans are having an amazing year and the Raiders have been not so amazing. If you're going for a goons and goblins reference, I would say if you're calling Oakland goons I would use Jacksonville or St. Louis as goblins."

Onto "Got Money", which barely beat out the blistering, braggadocios "A Milli". This song is the epitome of what is right about most music. While I do enjoy my lugubrious music (Low, anyone?), this song represents pure, untainted fun. It's as if T-Pain and Weezy just unwrapped an auto-tune near the Christmas tree and decided to compose a song right then and there. That is not to say it's not tight. With a chugging Miami-bass riff and Wayne's smart decision to have most of the verses unaided by the now-ubiquitous auto-tune, it's a smart, fierce song. He knows when to create space and give the music its due, and knows when to take over and blow everything out of the park. What could have been a drop in the luxe lifestyle rap bucket is one of the most enjoyable songs of the year. K.O.

Fight Bite - "Swissex Lover"

Though it's sworn in the midst of the track that the singers will "never, never love again," I can't believe it for a second. This song is too lovely to have sprung from hearts forever closed. But it does create a plausible womb in which to think that you just couldn't go on. The beautiful cruelty in Leanne's reading of the line, "...some leave you for Swiss ex-lovers," can vicariously stop me in my tracks for a few minutes. Imagine what mental images of your beloved, manhandled by some cuckoo clock on the ski-slopes could do. JK

Posted by Jeff Klingman at 03:50 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Monday, December 22

Tuesday, December 23
Severs @ Larimer Lounge
The Swayback @ Bluebird Theater

Wednesday, December 24
Merry Christmas Eve

Thursday, December 25
Merry Christmas

Friday, December 26
Z-Trip w/DJ Klever @ Cervantes
The Living Room Series: A Gathering Of Denver Songwriters @ Meadowlark
Katie Herzig w/ Tiffah of the Autumn Film @ The Walnut Room
Brent Loveday @ Larimer Lounge
LA Riots @ Fox Theatre
Audioflux and Apathy @ Bluebird Theater
Chelsea Grin @ Marquis Theater

Saturday, December 27
Z-Trip w/DJ Klever @ Cervantes
Efektor w/ Satan's Eighties Lovechild @ Hi-Dive
Alan Baird Project @ Larimer Lounge
Scalafrea @ Bluebird Theater
Texas is on Fire @ Marquis Theater

Sunday, December 28
The Lazy Eight @ Larimer Lounge
Cosmic Bowling League @ Ogden Theatre

Posted by Merry Swankster at 10:30 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

December 20, 2008

Once again, I think I missed being relevant to the actual show by at least a day, but as long as Juan Waters from Queens' sweethearts the Beets keep making awesome posters, I'm gonna keep posting them. Production for use....

Posted by Jeff Klingman at 11:21 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Or: an album-of-the-year list for the rest of us.

Why a nearly four-and-a-half century-old Netherlandish Renaissance painter as artist of the year 2008? At least two books I have read in the past year prominently discuss Dutch art, but to be fair, one of them is about soccer and never mentions Pieter the Elder, and the other is a children’s book. Perhaps a question more pertinent to this discussion would be: what is the connection between the patriarch of the Brueghel family tree and my favorite albums of 2008?

Self-portrait (believed) by Pieter Brueghel the Elder

Those of you that passed History of Art 101 might be thinking that this is a lead-in for the very harmonic eponymous full-length debut by Fleet Foxes. The cover art for their album features a portion of Brueghel’s morality play on canvas, Netherlandish Proverbs. Unfortunately, that association is too perfect. Fleet Foxes is enjoyable enough, but from where I stand, the band’s album is getting credit by trading off of their electrifying live performances – which is probably an incorrect metaphor to employ considering their shows are predominantly acoustic.

There is another blatant reference to the Danish painter among the prominent albums released this year; we will get to that one soon enough. But first, some loose associations.

Peasant Dance by Pieter Breughel the Elder

The most well-known subjects of Brueghel’s paintings were peasants. This was an important and risky move at the time because paintings of the Renaissance featured, almost exclusively, deities and the affluent. What was the point of taking the time to paint some poor people, after all? Largely, the Dutch and Flemish Renaissance was a reaction to the elitist tendencies of the better-known Italian and French movements, and no artist encapsulated this concept better than Brueghel the Elder. His paintings portrayed the common folk through a different lens, one that focused on glorifying their successes and a self-pride that contradicted their given lot in life. By showing the peasants in joyous situations such as weddings and other celebrations, Brueghel placed theirs on par with the grandiose lifestyles of the rich and royal. Often times, the peasants are shown dancing, a premise taken quite literally by Los Campesinos!

This time last year I put forth a rough thesis concerning the good sense of humor of Welsh rock bands. Well, the debut and follow up by Cardiff’s (6) Los Campesinos! (roughly: “the peasants”), Hold On Now, Youngster… and We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed aren’t just sorta funny because of their awkward titles, they are downright charming in spite of them. Think the quirky nomenclature ends with the album names? Not so! The overly-punctuated song titles might easily be confused with Bogartian stick-em-ups (“Drop it Doe Eyes”), passive-aggressive Austin-based emocore band names (“...And We Exhale and Roll Our Eyes in Unison”), time specific and weather-related romances (“Heart Swells/Pacific Daylight Time”), convoluted insulting or maybe heroic ridiculousness (“This Is How You Spell. “HAHAHA, We Destroyed the Hopes and Dreams of a Generation of Faux-Romantics””), and Bondsian hopefulness (“The End of the Asterisk), but they are all without-a-doubt splendidly crafted indie pop tracks that invoke the very spirit of celebration emphasized by Breughel’s peasant paintings. The highlight of these discs is the 2007-released, “You! Me! Dancing!”, nearly seven minutes of perpetually intensifying blissfulness that’s actually about exactly what the title suggests it would be: having a good time, (even when you can’t dance a single step).

The Peasant Dance was painted the same year as the similarly-themed the Peasant Wedding. The first of these is accurately titled, as a group of the trademark pudgies are shown prancing around a town square. Wedding, however depicts a number of people sitting at a long table while others serve them pies and drinks. The most important feature of this particular painting is that it provides a loose transition to my number three album of the year, the Bake Sale EP by Windy City DIY duo, (3) the Cool Kids.

Simple pleasures referencing the Smurfs, Guess Jeans, Men Without Hats and other things kids remember from the Me Decade fill up the album, creating a charm that masks that technical and philosophical acumen contained within. Even the one obvious party track, “Bassment Party” breaks into modernism by giving you directions to the house party that the song you are listening to is playing at. (Go past the intersection, take a right at the light, first house on your left.) Unlike other ‘80s praisers (*couch* Jurassic 5 *cough*), the Cool Kids honor the decade not by talking about how great it was, but instead by encapsulating the prominent notions of having fun no matter how common place or dire your current situation is. A sense of hope coming out of Chicago in the year 2008? What is this, some kind of veiled political commentary?

Land of Cockaigne by Pieter Breughel the Elder

Not all of Brueghel’s paintings depicted the