Greetings bloggy readers,
I’m much honored to have the honor of honoring such an honorable website. I feel like Barack Obama in Denver—minus the everything amazing. Did you guys see that speech!?? Holy Moses.
Anywho, Sean has recruited me to help fill this magnificent piece of hypertext out every week, and I'm happy to throw my two cents in when I can. My musical sensibilities are a bit different from Sean's. Our musical roads took different paths, in that he has some solid indie and hip hop sensibilities, and I've spent the better part of the last ten years listening to hippie crap. But that's ok, the hipsters and hippies aren't as far off as you might think. I look forward to blogging with you.
Andrew
P.S.
Please forward all hate mail to Sean.
Goldfrapp is a group who have been around for some years yet I've never listened to. On Seventh Tree, their fourth album, they forgo the more electro/dance sound common to their first three recordings in lieu of soft melodies and ephemeral singing. 'Clowns,' the opener, evokes
lazy summer days spent in the country, French maybe, as the vocals are so diaphanous that you can't really tell if Alison Goldfrapp is singing in English ou Francaise. The sound is ambient and down tempo, reminiscent of Zero 7, but where Zero 7 songs sound like they're pasted together on a laptop, the songs on Seventh Tree sound more like organic compositions, even though electronic instruments are obviously employed along with guitar, piano, strings and horns.'Little Bird' takes things up a notch (though not to 11) with a minor raucousness that reminds me of some lite-Sgt. Peppers psychedelia. I'm a big fan of the static hiss of vintage vinyl permeating the melancholy 'Eat Yourself.' The song starts with a slow and melancholy acoustic guitar (sample? hence the vinyl static or was it added in the studio for effect?) and equally melancholy vocals, but slowly builds into a happier, fuller song with all of the previously mentioned instruments. 'A&E' is the obvious candidate to reach a wider audience, and how can you not like this video for 'Happiness.' While it's often ideal to have a coherent sound, the only drawback of this album is a lack of exploration through the tone they've chosen to take. And I don't mean to imply that all the songs sound the same, but it does require a bit more nuanced listening.
After reading an interview with the Seattle based Sub-Pop band , it’s no surprise to hear that they yanked their parents’ CSN and Beach Boys vinyl - you can hear the influences of those bands from the get-go, especially in “Sun Giant”, with its wildery folk stylings and multi-part harmonies. Another strong track on Sun Giant, “Mykonos”, is a heartbreaking tale of severed friendship, displaying the quintet’s strength in numbers, as the gentle croons and acoustic picking quickly swirls into a one-minute freak-out of catharsis, before the whispers overtake the outro.Their self-titled LP seems more polished, but still holds the campfire qualities that the band seems to hold so dear. The song-writing often evokes a place that a lost generation of singers used to occupy: Thoreau landscapes, lost love, and isolation that sometimes seems requited. Tunes like “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song”, “Oliver James” and “Your Protector” couldn’t be more picturesque—or desolate, like Robin Pecknold is drowning his sorrows in gorgeous melodies instead of a dusty opaque bottle of bourbon. Go see for yourself next month, Friday October 3rd, at the Black Cat.
Starter tracks:
Sun Giant: “Sun Giant”, “Mykonos”
Fleet Foxes: “White Winter Hymnal”, “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song”
Best played with:
Warm dark liquor, old Smith & Wesson, whittling knife, an old flame (preferably unfaithful - a dead-beat friend or family member would also fill in nicely)
Van Occupanther is a weird, sad, and comforting little album. Midlakes’ main dude, Tim Smith, is a songwriter that throws little phrases in your head that you can’t get out, and it certainly helps that his tart arrangements push them with an eerie innocence. “Whenever I was a child I wondered what if my name had changed
into something more productive like Roscoe/ Been born in 1891”, sings Smith in, well, “Roscoe”, the four minute opus that has Smith bristling about the "chemicals" and "smoke" of modernity. Thankfully, it’s filled with enough self doubt that it avoids the pitfalls of holier-than-thou territory.Like in so many other tracks, Smith’s muddled and haunting melodies highlight his ambiguity towards his own frumpiness. There is some terrific, if sparse guitar work - Nels Cline-like in its ability to stray so assuredly off the beaten path, only to find itself back in line for the melody just in time, like on the third track, “Head Home”. After Smith asks questions like, “Did you ever want to run around with bandits/ to see many places and hide in ditches?”, in “Bandits”, pianos and guitars talk to each other like they might be ready to run away with each other, too. The Trials of VanOccupanther is a marriage of wispy dreariness and opaque beaut y—it’s too busy shuffling to the bleakness of life to beckon you, but listen at the right time, and it will comfort you like your favorite pair of Pee Jays.
Starter Tracks:
“Roscoe”, “Bandits”, “Head Home”, “You Never Arrived”
Best Played With:
Benevolence for your fellow man, contempt for modernity, Paxil, low expectations
