posted by marathonpacks at 3:16 PM
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1.06.2009
1.03.2009
marathonpacks' 2008 Year-End Lengthy Write-Ups
A bit late, I know. But I'm assuming that many people reading this feel like the first day back to work is really the first day of 2009. So.
I'll leave my appreciations for School of Seven Bells, Ssion, Women and the Dø to reside on my other blog. Like the past year, this post is a gathering of my thoughts on stuff released this year, singles and albums, that made me think the most. Not everything, but something. Sorry to Britta Persson, White Hinterland, Of Montreal, and Kanye (maybe later), but I've got to get on with my life now. And the internet has to get on with its Animal Collective. Regular programming will resume in the next day or so and stuff.
Q-Tip “Gettin’ Up”
The phrase “gettin’ up” has three implications for me, and, I'm assuming, for Q-Tip. The first is a simple act of connection: “get up with me later,” that sort of thing. In this song, the stakes are a bit higher, though. Tip's begging a girl to come back to him, and promising he’ll be good. That it will be good. The second meaning…well, this is Q-Tip we’re talking about here; the guy who, better than any rapper who’s ever lived, is able to make something as simple as a crush sorta nasty, but wholly charming at the same time. Who wants you to “relax yourself, girl, please settle down,” before, well, it has to do with lots of lovin’, and it ain’t nothin’ nice. But the third meaning of the phrase? That’s pure 2008, Q-Tip officially staging rap’s best-ever comeback on the date that we elected our first black President. When I hear “we can start a clan/ just like the Kennedys,” followed by comparisons to “Ruby Dee and Ossie, Martin and Coretta,” I hear Q-Tip, with perfect timing, using this stage to talk uplift.
The Kills “Last Day of Magic”/ Hot Chip “Ready for the Floor”
As “Last Day of Magic” opens, Jamie Hince’s guitar assails, and burns; it’s a call-to-arms, one person telling the other that the ship is sinking, and the impending end will probably take them both down with it. “We’re two parties. Two parties ending” is about a relationship going down in flames, portrayed through the device of two particularly nasty galas imploding upon themselves. This is where “Magic” finds its strength: in its layered, alluring portrayal of austerity, fear, and high-fashion seduction. The album title Midnight Boom came from Kerouac’s “The Subterraneans,” and part of the inspiration for “Magic” came from Raskolnikov's harrowing bedroom scene from “Crime and Punishment.” Now, look at the cover of the album. Get it? “Magic” is so intense, so taut, so elegant, so undeniably stylish. It’s two lovers brought together by aesthetic passions, sitting on a tattered mattress in a shit room, avoiding eye contact as their self-obsessed world burns around them.
Rewind several months, and we find “Ready for the Floor,” and a couple at the other end of the spectrum. Two somewhat shy people, carving up the wall at a club. One tells the other that the time is now. To do it. To say it. Like Marvin Gaye did. That warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. Is it giddiness? Pure panic? Are you turned on? Ready to vomit? Don’t think! You’re someone’s number one guy!!
Deerhunter Microcastle
One of the many references associated with Crytpograms and Fluorescent Grey, originating from Bradford Cox himself, was to the dark, grotesque fiction of Dennis Cooper. Having never read Cooper, I took Cox at his word, of course, but I had my own literary lens through which to view Deerhunter’s music, and one that’s only become more appropriate with the release of Microcastle: Edgar Allan Poe. The lyric “I had dreams/ That frightened me awake" from “Never Stops,” and the spectral, haunting quality of the otherwise incredibly propulsive “Nothing Ever Happened” (the album's two best songs), eerily evoke Poe’s fascination with the mind’s crippling capability to create terrifying alternate realities and convince us they’re what’s really happening.
This same thing happened on Cryptograms and Grey, but they come full flower on Microcastle, a massive leap forward for Cox and Deerhunter in terms of accessibility and professionalism. I don’t mind admitting that I feel I might have jumped the gun a bit with my adoration of Cryptograms, either, especially after revisiting recently Grey's comparative aesthetic consolidation. For so many people, there was just incredible promise inherent in that band, and the sounds they were coalescing: bits of the Jesus and Mary Chain, krautrock, Marilyn Manson/Trent Reznor, Sonic Youth, Perry Farrell, dozens of others. Others were anticipating the rise of a new, and decidedly strange, indie-rock “star” presence. Cox, a very au courant horror figure —parts Poe and Cooper, part William Burroughs, part Hammer-era Christopher Lee—never shut up, and love him or hate him, he was someone to whom people paid attention.
Microcastle returns significantly on that investment. If not for another album about non-entities, Wale's The Mixtape About Nothing, it would be my favorite record of 2008. Yet just like Nothing, Microcastle's time of release can't be separated from its actual content. It contains a synthesis of influences, and an aesthetic approach more generally, that speaks to a current code that values dabbling and evocation: it’s swoony like the girl groups but throbs like a faraway party, guitars sound radically different from one track to the next, sometimes from one minute to the next. “Saved By Old Times” reminds me of “Season of the Witch,” and “Little Kids” recalls Porno for Pyros, and the ambient drone bits from Cryptograms—which, frankly, felt like noodly posturing more than anything—have been replaced with gothic singer-songwriter bits, constiuting an album-middle as quiet as a winter weeknight. And through it all, Cox’s voice hovers, and slithers like a vapor coming in under the door.
Hercules and Love Affair S/T
Butler researched Greek mythology in college, and was taken with the idea that Hercules, the manliest of the gods, was left alone, wandering on an island at the end of his life, searching for a lost lover (I’m taken with that idea, too, and if you’re not, I frankly don’t know why you’re still reading this). “Hercules’ Theme” is not a tale of regret and woe, however. Exactly the opposite: it’s a slick, minimalist Philly Soul funk march with a robo-rhythm, fluttering strings and a stuttering horn chart. But it’s the sultry and gender-neutral vocal from the stunning Nomi Ruiz that makes the song unabashedly original. On the chorus, she sings “yeah yeah yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaah,” but it might be “nyah nyah nyeeeeeeaaaaaah,” to match the nursery rhyme simplicity of the song’s lyrics:
No Age Nouns
It’s been a banner past two years for foggy reminisces of hardcore punk. Dave Longstreth, of Brooklyn’s Dirty Projectors, created a painstaking, at times gorgeous, gallery-quality fever dream about Black Flag. He explains:
In 2008, MTV actually "played" the "video" for “Eraser,” a jangly, deleriously fuzzed-out paean to the doldrums of menial labor recorded by an L.A. two-piece named after an out-of-print SST instrumental avant-garde compilation. On Rise Above, Longstreth cracked open his hardcore unconscious and smeared the beautiful, grotesque contents in front of us. On Nouns, two guys named Randy and Dean, forever connected to a shitty all-ages venue called The Smell, filter what they remember of hardcore through eardrums pierced like torn tweeters. The lyrics are vaguely audible, the guitars rise like fumes, the drums are pounded primitively, yet the indefinite quality on Nouns isn’t the force-fed nihilism of The Decline of Western Civilization. Take another listen to the barely-concealed panic in Darby Crash’s vocals on “Forming,” only this time, turn the volume up until it almost hurts your ears. Do it twice. Now, take the headphones off and listen to what immediately lingers inside your head. Wait a day or so, and remember again. That’s No Age.
M.I.A. “Paper Planes”
The song of the year, two years running? Sure enough. There wasn’t a more relevant-seeming moment in cinema this year than this entire song appearing in Slumdog Millionaire, during a sequence (and entire film) that seemed constructed immediately after Danny Boyle first heard the song. I rather hurriedly wrote a post about the song late last year, which I wished wasn’t linked to and commented on as much as it was, because there’s plenty (plenty) I immediately wanted to change about it. Yet that post served a purpose for me, in a roundabout way: for most of 2008 and the tail-end of 2007, the vast majority of my Google-derived traffic has come from some iteration of the search phrase “MIA Paper Planes what does mean definition.” Poor saps got stuck with that post, too.
But can you think of a more well-deserved accidental renaissance than the one lent “Planes” by the Pineapple Express trailer this year, as a laconic stoner action-theme? When I wrote that post last November, Kala still seemed the province of critics and online geeks. A few months later, “Paper Planes” is booming out of Kilroy’s Sports Bar down the street from my house, where legions of sweaty Greeks (not the Mediterranean variety) are grinding to it while drinking watery cocktails.
Then, there were the year's two best reappropriations of the track. First, Kanye West’s isolation of one lyric, to which he added echo and froze in place atop the iciest French-house synth pallette he had lying around, making one of the year's best beats (and which would have been great on its own had it not been ruined by four sub-par verses atop it) . Then there’s Esau Mwamwaya & Radioclit’s “Tengazako,” from a quite remarkable mixtape redolent of its own embrace of the best aspects of a globalized creative class. Myamwaya sings radiantly in Chichewa--the native language of his home country Malawi--over the Clash's phased guitars. Of course, M.I.A.'s kids come in at the end.
With this in mind, a short and sweet redux of that original post. Indulge me:
Yet at the same time, there’s no danger, just a lot of swagger and a heaping helping of irony, like Slumdog's kids using pity to grab a Franklin from the American tourists. A song about off-the-grid kids ripping off tourists and forging official authenticities became one of the most profitable musical commodities, through the most approved and official channels, of 2008. Yet at the same time, there's no "misunderstanding" of the song's "official" meaning happening at frats, or when girls in dorm rooms post videos of themselves dancing to the song, any more than Kanye's and Esau's own reappropriations. I'm pretty sure that M.I.A.'s okay with her latest bonafide hustle becoming 2008's predominant aural icon.
Wale The Mixtape About Nothing
It’s easy to forget, but 1991 saw a big shift in the way music as merchandise is officially recognized and ranked, and how indie and “niche” forms like rap came to gain widespread recognition. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, the rise of cable television facilitated a shift from a broadcast to a niche model of entertainment, and Billboard’s ratings system became a significant part of that shift. In 91, they merged with the Soundscan company to ensure direct technological access to actual scans of records from the vast majority of American retailers. Suddenly, strange things were appearing at the top of the Billboard charts, like N.W.A.’s violent, morally-irredeemable Efil4zaggin, released on small L.A. indie Priority, which knocked Paula Abdul out of the top spot. It seemed revolutionary, but Soundscan was nothing but a stat-juke, really, exposing a legal, commercial underground. Straight Outta Compton had sold in the millions, too. Just not “officially.”
Fast-forward to 2008, and hip-hop has merged with R&B to become, along with country and Disney pop, the de facto pop music. There’s still plenty of un- and under-exposed rap music, of course, like there’s always been. But there’s yet to be a new Soundscan to quantify the popularity of sub rosa downloading, approved and illicit, facilitated not by local record stores but spectral online start-ups with names like Rapidshare and Soulseek. People still buy rap these days, but only the sort that’s heavily promoted by major labels, and often subsidized by above and below-board ventures that have little to do with music and much more to do with trans-media branding. There are a few crucial voices doing brilliant things with the form, but they’re less and less likely to be heard on a broad scale unless they get scooped up by the Pineapple Express trailer.
Aside from serviceable records from T.I., the Roots and Young Jeezy, 2008 was a horrible year for rap, hands down. It was also a vote-splitting year for music in general, with no big-name, consensus-forming acts releasing albums except Kanye and TV on the Radio, leading to shit like Fleet Foxes emerging as Pitchfork’s consensus number one, and a batshit comeback like Portishead’s Third at #2. 2007 was comparatively huge: Radiohead, Kanye, Feist, Wilco, Spoon, the Shins, Animal Collective, LCD Soundsystem, M.I.A., Jay-Z, Arcade Fire, the National, the White Stripes.
The heterogeneity of this year, more than anything, resulted in a mixtape by a dude from Baltimore based on fucking Seinfeld solidifying as my favorite album of 2008. It’s part of the value of doing year-end lists, really: mapping the vagaries of an entire 12 months of music onto the canvas of my tastes. In another year (like last, for instance), Wale’s The Mixtape About Nothing might have slipped completely under my radar as an attention economy gimmick for white people. Man, I’m glad Spoon and LCD didn’t release great stuff this year, because this is the signal rap record of 2008, a head-spinning, virtuosic compendium of rap’s myriad issues as it makes its way through the Web, awkwardly embraces dipshit teenage entrepreneurs like Soulja Boy, and pushes forward while consistently keeping a tether to its past. It’s indicative of the way things are nowadays, with the rise of the rap entrepreneur and the biggest recent beef involving whether Kanye or 50 would sell more albums on release day, that Wale’s impression can be summed up as, “respect has grown inferior to fuckin’ Soundscans.”
Like a minor-league Kanye, Wale Folarin is also a college dropout with tastemaking fans (Mark Ronson), with a strong desire to make his deepest feelings heard: instead of Kanye’s high-profile blog rantings, Wale reps for the social networking sites that, by themselves, create their own bizarre, disembodied form of music celebrity, as his “connects.” When you think about it, his Seinfeld gimmick isn’t too far from something that De La Soul might have done. What Wale does with it is quite brilliant, though, and in its own way a comment on the hip-hop landscape every bit as important as De La Soul is Dead. He uses Seinfeld’s nihilism of minor differences as the primer for his cynical take on hip-hop culture, in which anything approaching real support for the music and artists has been rendered as invisible and mercurial as the mp3s themselves. Or, as he explains at the end of the opening track (which of course, employs a variant on those bubbling stand-up basslines): “most niggas love nothing, so I made this tape.”
Me typing that word—you know which word—necessitates a momentary digression toward another view of the album’s core concept, which of course plays perfectly to a middle-class, pop-culture savvy, irony-appreciating contingent. Oh, and white kids. I’m not going to argue the point that part of my appreciation for Nothing lies in the fact that Wale and I like the same television show, and that he’s able to recontexualize, in a purposefully academic manner, Seinfeld’s dialogue and themes in really fun and inventive ways. In fact, I embrace that point, because it plays into one of the major joys I get from rap music as a creative idiom more generally. The cut-and-paste aesthetic ideology that hip-hop emerged from allows for performers to make very frank, and highly persuasive, arguments in many more ways than other types of music. They do this, more often than not, by reshaping slight bits of seemingly disparate stuff to create something new and hopefully invigorating.
Even more importantly, the cadence of rapping (especially when compared to pop singing) allows rappers (if they want, of course) to engage listeners in direct, specific ways: the ways that teachers, pastors, or debaters do. There’s no surprise at all that people were more frightened of N.W.A.'s possible impact upon youth than they were of Scarface or Saw Pulp Fiction. From an aesthetic (not sociological) perspective, music is a more intimate and immediate form than film, and rap is the most visceral pop music to ever exist. When I listen to rap, I find myself wanting the performer to convince more than entertain me (and I know these don’t have to be mutually-exclusive).
I know that other people listen for very different things in rap music, and this is not to say that I don’t enjoy lighter fare. I also know that this opens me up to criticism from, well, critics who will accuse me of expecting things from rappers that I don’t expect from rock singers. To which I say: of course I do (idiot), because rappers are working in a different medium, and their art should come with different expectations. I don’t need rappers to be moral, upstanding citizens any more than anyone else. But I’m not going to deny that, in terms of music, there are few things that appeal more to me than a rapper with something to say, and a fierce desire to say it, and the ability to make it sound compelling to someone other than himself. More than any rap album this year, Nothing fills all those criteria.
Its track titles read like Seinfeld show headers, complete with self-referential jabs at what Wale sees as rap’s rote predictability—“The Remake Of A Remake (All I Need),” “The Skit,” “The Cliché Lil’ Wayne Feature”—but Nothing is much more than just the product of a smart-ass sideline sniper. It’s shot through with sharp, humorous insights delivered by a guy who can flat-out rap his ass off. There's no more illustrative couplet than the one from “The Crazy”: “I’m not saying that I’m Nasir/ I’m just sayin’ rap’s dead when I’m not here.” Only a guy who thinks hip-hop culture needs a tabula rasa would make a mixtape brazen and high-spirited enough to feature drops from Bun B and Julia Louis-Dreyfuss. But only Wale, I’m convinced—who seamlessly switches between incredibly serious, ironic and meta, smart-assed and playful—could actually do something this fucked-up and goofy really well.
Wale’s made sure he was going to be heard no matter how crowded the attention economy was; his most repeated lyric here—more an improvised interjection, really, as well as a song title from his last mixtape—is “please listen to me. Please listen to me.” I don’t think I listened to another track as much in 2008 as “The Freestyle (Roc Boys),” on which Wale’s wordcount outpaces Jay-Z’s own by 10 to 1, as if he’s trying to force himself into the spotlight through sheer loquaciousness. Where Jay used the beat to relax and reflect on life at the top of the mountain, Wale murders the track, trying with all his might to work his way up. Second most listened-to was no doubt “The Kramer,” the most insightful and engaging analysis of the n-word's unseen consequences this side of Chris Rock.
Nothing’s key track, however, and the moment that most situates the album in 2008, is “The Perfect Plan.” It’s Wale’s broadside against self-obsessed rap fans, at whose hard drives he lays the blame for the rise of Soulja Boy (his stated nemesis on the record) and the decline of true lyricists, a camp within which he, obviously, situates himself. He chides 2008’s holy trinity of Wayne, Kanye and Jay-Z for not supporting art and artists in lieu of high-concept, capital-driven spectacle-producers—“rather than singing our praise, they do/ raise the bar to a level unattainable”—and admits embarrassment that Soulja Boy fans lay out money to support him more than most other rappers's so-called fans. It’s not an airtight argument, of course, and Wale contradicts himself as much as any heated debater (at times, like on "The Manipulation," on purpose). In spite of this, and really because of it, Nothing is incredibly compelling. At the end of “Plan,” he condenses his plan, developed from the disconnect between fan entitlement and artistic labor, thusly: “I just rap ‘cause I’m s’posed to, nigga this what I know/ I conclude: buy my music, no more free downloads.”
So much of rap music’s vitality comes from its contradictory rhetoric; the past 30 years of hip-hop culture has served as a public venue to discuss violence, misogyny, racism, art and commercialism, class warfare, and dozens of other things. That Wale, who built his reputation on giving away his music for free, is stating on a freely downloadable mixtape his aversion to commercial culture as well as his clear desire to immerse himself in it (this is the guy whose biggest yet hit has been “Nike Boots,” after all). Before Nothing dropped earlier this year, Wale—who includes his brief feature from the Roots’ Rising Down as the second track here—signed with Interscope, which will release his label debut in 2009. Hopefully.
It’s a strange moment right now in hip-hop: the structure of the industry leaves room for only a few major stars, and brilliant, yet star-power-free groups like the Clipse (whose stuff is much darker than anything N.W.A. ever did) have to resign themselves to eternal sales in the low six digits. But the fucked-up state of affairs, and a bigger and more variegated audience than ever before, means that the weirdest shit can also rise to the top: When else could we have seen a brilliant trickster figure like Lil’ Wayne and a wildly creative self-promoter like Kanye West emerge as not only the two biggest rap stars in the world, but also the most compelling public personalities in music? I’m not being pessimistic when I say that I think Wale’s chances of selling T.I. numbers instead of, say, Blackalicious numbers, are slim. He’s one of the most skilled, fun and intelligent rappers to come along in quite some time, but in that regard, he also sort of feels like a throwback to an earlier era. It’s clear that he thinks of himself that way: part Nas, part Chuck D., part Black Thought, part Q-Tip. But is that enough anymore, without some sort of extramusical gimmick, performative freakishness, or, brazen commercial strategy? Nothing shows that Wale, aside from being a tremendously talented performer, is also differently attuned to the current state of affairs in rap and pop than most anyone right now, and ready to talk about it. All I can say is that if his next album is anywhere as compelling as this one, please listen to him.
I'll leave my appreciations for School of Seven Bells, Ssion, Women and the Dø to reside on my other blog. Like the past year, this post is a gathering of my thoughts on stuff released this year, singles and albums, that made me think the most. Not everything, but something. Sorry to Britta Persson, White Hinterland, Of Montreal, and Kanye (maybe later), but I've got to get on with my life now. And the internet has to get on with its Animal Collective. Regular programming will resume in the next day or so and stuff.
Q-Tip “Gettin’ Up”
The phrase “gettin’ up” has three implications for me, and, I'm assuming, for Q-Tip. The first is a simple act of connection: “get up with me later,” that sort of thing. In this song, the stakes are a bit higher, though. Tip's begging a girl to come back to him, and promising he’ll be good. That it will be good. The second meaning…well, this is Q-Tip we’re talking about here; the guy who, better than any rapper who’s ever lived, is able to make something as simple as a crush sorta nasty, but wholly charming at the same time. Who wants you to “relax yourself, girl, please settle down,” before, well, it has to do with lots of lovin’, and it ain’t nothin’ nice. But the third meaning of the phrase? That’s pure 2008, Q-Tip officially staging rap’s best-ever comeback on the date that we elected our first black President. When I hear “we can start a clan/ just like the Kennedys,” followed by comparisons to “Ruby Dee and Ossie, Martin and Coretta,” I hear Q-Tip, with perfect timing, using this stage to talk uplift.
The Kills “Last Day of Magic”/ Hot Chip “Ready for the Floor”
As “Last Day of Magic” opens, Jamie Hince’s guitar assails, and burns; it’s a call-to-arms, one person telling the other that the ship is sinking, and the impending end will probably take them both down with it. “We’re two parties. Two parties ending” is about a relationship going down in flames, portrayed through the device of two particularly nasty galas imploding upon themselves. This is where “Magic” finds its strength: in its layered, alluring portrayal of austerity, fear, and high-fashion seduction. The album title Midnight Boom came from Kerouac’s “The Subterraneans,” and part of the inspiration for “Magic” came from Raskolnikov's harrowing bedroom scene from “Crime and Punishment.” Now, look at the cover of the album. Get it? “Magic” is so intense, so taut, so elegant, so undeniably stylish. It’s two lovers brought together by aesthetic passions, sitting on a tattered mattress in a shit room, avoiding eye contact as their self-obsessed world burns around them.
Rewind several months, and we find “Ready for the Floor,” and a couple at the other end of the spectrum. Two somewhat shy people, carving up the wall at a club. One tells the other that the time is now. To do it. To say it. Like Marvin Gaye did. That warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. Is it giddiness? Pure panic? Are you turned on? Ready to vomit? Don’t think! You’re someone’s number one guy!!
Deerhunter Microcastle
One of the many references associated with Crytpograms and Fluorescent Grey, originating from Bradford Cox himself, was to the dark, grotesque fiction of Dennis Cooper. Having never read Cooper, I took Cox at his word, of course, but I had my own literary lens through which to view Deerhunter’s music, and one that’s only become more appropriate with the release of Microcastle: Edgar Allan Poe. The lyric “I had dreams/ That frightened me awake" from “Never Stops,” and the spectral, haunting quality of the otherwise incredibly propulsive “Nothing Ever Happened” (the album's two best songs), eerily evoke Poe’s fascination with the mind’s crippling capability to create terrifying alternate realities and convince us they’re what’s really happening.
This same thing happened on Cryptograms and Grey, but they come full flower on Microcastle, a massive leap forward for Cox and Deerhunter in terms of accessibility and professionalism. I don’t mind admitting that I feel I might have jumped the gun a bit with my adoration of Cryptograms, either, especially after revisiting recently Grey's comparative aesthetic consolidation. For so many people, there was just incredible promise inherent in that band, and the sounds they were coalescing: bits of the Jesus and Mary Chain, krautrock, Marilyn Manson/Trent Reznor, Sonic Youth, Perry Farrell, dozens of others. Others were anticipating the rise of a new, and decidedly strange, indie-rock “star” presence. Cox, a very au courant horror figure —parts Poe and Cooper, part William Burroughs, part Hammer-era Christopher Lee—never shut up, and love him or hate him, he was someone to whom people paid attention.
Microcastle returns significantly on that investment. If not for another album about non-entities, Wale's The Mixtape About Nothing, it would be my favorite record of 2008. Yet just like Nothing, Microcastle's time of release can't be separated from its actual content. It contains a synthesis of influences, and an aesthetic approach more generally, that speaks to a current code that values dabbling and evocation: it’s swoony like the girl groups but throbs like a faraway party, guitars sound radically different from one track to the next, sometimes from one minute to the next. “Saved By Old Times” reminds me of “Season of the Witch,” and “Little Kids” recalls Porno for Pyros, and the ambient drone bits from Cryptograms—which, frankly, felt like noodly posturing more than anything—have been replaced with gothic singer-songwriter bits, constiuting an album-middle as quiet as a winter weeknight. And through it all, Cox’s voice hovers, and slithers like a vapor coming in under the door.
Hercules and Love Affair S/T
The identity that disco offers is sustained by the beat and its twin, desire; it could conceivably go on forever, like our dancing, if the music is right, but it will never be permanent, fixed or naturalized. Therein lies the freedom disco constructs out of our subordination to it.If dance music and queerness were as crucial to your formative years and current identity as they are to Andrew Butler’s, you’d want to create a mythological disco symphony as well. Hell, you’d have made one in your mind, thousands of times, after leaving a self-styled Coliseum where partially-clad bodies writhed at the whim of a deity, unseen and above. The musical pantheon Butler’s debut as Hercules & Love Affair draws from, and the manner in which it explores love and romance, are far from canonical, but the sentiments expressed within the music are nothing if not universal. H&LA is the best and most creative American dance album of the year, but it’s also the best autobiographical concept piece of 2008, a high-concept tale of heroism, romance, creative wish-fulfillment and the capricious fancies of youth wrenched from the personal and presented as fundamental.
“I came out when I was 15. That was also when I first got into dance clubs and started to date DJs. I was in this big masculine body, I played football and other sports and at the same time I was extremely sensitive and emotionally vulnerable. I was attracted by the Hercules story because it was about embracing the femine within the hyper-masculine.”H&LA is a disco album, but disco has never been about just music. It’s about love and passion transcending the boundaries we erect to keep each other separate, and more specifically, the necessity of ambiguity and alternate readings of norms and traditions. Disco is whole-body eroticism and unabashed romanticism.
Butler researched Greek mythology in college, and was taken with the idea that Hercules, the manliest of the gods, was left alone, wandering on an island at the end of his life, searching for a lost lover (I’m taken with that idea, too, and if you’re not, I frankly don’t know why you’re still reading this). “Hercules’ Theme” is not a tale of regret and woe, however. Exactly the opposite: it’s a slick, minimalist Philly Soul funk march with a robo-rhythm, fluttering strings and a stuttering horn chart. But it’s the sultry and gender-neutral vocal from the stunning Nomi Ruiz that makes the song unabashedly original. On the chorus, she sings “yeah yeah yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaah,” but it might be “nyah nyah nyeeeeeeaaaaaah,” to match the nursery rhyme simplicity of the song’s lyrics:
he took us to townNothing’s stable, not even the song's lyrics: the above was typed from the album’s liner notes. Nomi actually sings “we took him to town and pushed him around” in the song itself.
he pushed us around
little boy Hercules.
he wouldn’t give in
and let the ladies win
little boy Hercules.
No Age Nouns
It’s been a banner past two years for foggy reminisces of hardcore punk. Dave Longstreth, of Brooklyn’s Dirty Projectors, created a painstaking, at times gorgeous, gallery-quality fever dream about Black Flag. He explains:
I tried to rewrite Damaged…from memory. I didn’t listen to the album or read the lyrics while I was doing this. I relied on memory and intuition mostly. I wanted to see if I could make this album myself — not as an album of covers or an homage per se, but as an original creative act, albeit a more particular one than most. Writing a song is pulling a shape out of the air, but I didn’t want to write just any song — I wanted to write a song that has already existed.The result was Rise Above, a mottled, keening and complicated fusion of hazy memories; Longstreth’s voice, which resembled an opera singer’s gorgeously decaying vocal cords; and a tattered, partially recognizable copy of Remain in Light.
In 2008, MTV actually "played" the "video" for “Eraser,” a jangly, deleriously fuzzed-out paean to the doldrums of menial labor recorded by an L.A. two-piece named after an out-of-print SST instrumental avant-garde compilation. On Rise Above, Longstreth cracked open his hardcore unconscious and smeared the beautiful, grotesque contents in front of us. On Nouns, two guys named Randy and Dean, forever connected to a shitty all-ages venue called The Smell, filter what they remember of hardcore through eardrums pierced like torn tweeters. The lyrics are vaguely audible, the guitars rise like fumes, the drums are pounded primitively, yet the indefinite quality on Nouns isn’t the force-fed nihilism of The Decline of Western Civilization. Take another listen to the barely-concealed panic in Darby Crash’s vocals on “Forming,” only this time, turn the volume up until it almost hurts your ears. Do it twice. Now, take the headphones off and listen to what immediately lingers inside your head. Wait a day or so, and remember again. That’s No Age.
M.I.A. “Paper Planes”
The song of the year, two years running? Sure enough. There wasn’t a more relevant-seeming moment in cinema this year than this entire song appearing in Slumdog Millionaire, during a sequence (and entire film) that seemed constructed immediately after Danny Boyle first heard the song. I rather hurriedly wrote a post about the song late last year, which I wished wasn’t linked to and commented on as much as it was, because there’s plenty (plenty) I immediately wanted to change about it. Yet that post served a purpose for me, in a roundabout way: for most of 2008 and the tail-end of 2007, the vast majority of my Google-derived traffic has come from some iteration of the search phrase “MIA Paper Planes what does mean definition.” Poor saps got stuck with that post, too.
But can you think of a more well-deserved accidental renaissance than the one lent “Planes” by the Pineapple Express trailer this year, as a laconic stoner action-theme? When I wrote that post last November, Kala still seemed the province of critics and online geeks. A few months later, “Paper Planes” is booming out of Kilroy’s Sports Bar down the street from my house, where legions of sweaty Greeks (not the Mediterranean variety) are grinding to it while drinking watery cocktails.
Then, there were the year's two best reappropriations of the track. First, Kanye West’s isolation of one lyric, to which he added echo and froze in place atop the iciest French-house synth pallette he had lying around, making one of the year's best beats (and which would have been great on its own had it not been ruined by four sub-par verses atop it) . Then there’s Esau Mwamwaya & Radioclit’s “Tengazako,” from a quite remarkable mixtape redolent of its own embrace of the best aspects of a globalized creative class. Myamwaya sings radiantly in Chichewa--the native language of his home country Malawi--over the Clash's phased guitars. Of course, M.I.A.'s kids come in at the end.
With this in mind, a short and sweet redux of that original post. Indulge me:
For many men and women, especially youth, the questions specific to citizenship, such as how we inform ourselves and who represents our interests, are answered more often than not through private consumption of commodities and media offerings than through the abstract rules of democracy or through participation in discredited political organizations.If consumption is really the way we define ourselves as citizens nowadays, could opting out of official systems of exchange then be seen as a form of protest? One step further, could creating your own forms of identification (homemade Visas), disposable modes of communication (“burner” cell phones), and currency be seen as aestheticized dissent? M.I.A.’s rhetorical fashioning of the Handgun/Cash Register, unveiled for the first time during the song’s indelible chorus and represented iconically in the liner notes, demonstrates that the sort of cultural currency represented on the cover is not what’s being exchanged here; what she’s talking about is the “official” sort.
Yet at the same time, there’s no danger, just a lot of swagger and a heaping helping of irony, like Slumdog's kids using pity to grab a Franklin from the American tourists. A song about off-the-grid kids ripping off tourists and forging official authenticities became one of the most profitable musical commodities, through the most approved and official channels, of 2008. Yet at the same time, there's no "misunderstanding" of the song's "official" meaning happening at frats, or when girls in dorm rooms post videos of themselves dancing to the song, any more than Kanye's and Esau's own reappropriations. I'm pretty sure that M.I.A.'s okay with her latest bonafide hustle becoming 2008's predominant aural icon.
Wale The Mixtape About Nothing
It’s easy to forget, but 1991 saw a big shift in the way music as merchandise is officially recognized and ranked, and how indie and “niche” forms like rap came to gain widespread recognition. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, the rise of cable television facilitated a shift from a broadcast to a niche model of entertainment, and Billboard’s ratings system became a significant part of that shift. In 91, they merged with the Soundscan company to ensure direct technological access to actual scans of records from the vast majority of American retailers. Suddenly, strange things were appearing at the top of the Billboard charts, like N.W.A.’s violent, morally-irredeemable Efil4zaggin, released on small L.A. indie Priority, which knocked Paula Abdul out of the top spot. It seemed revolutionary, but Soundscan was nothing but a stat-juke, really, exposing a legal, commercial underground. Straight Outta Compton had sold in the millions, too. Just not “officially.”
Fast-forward to 2008, and hip-hop has merged with R&B to become, along with country and Disney pop, the de facto pop music. There’s still plenty of un- and under-exposed rap music, of course, like there’s always been. But there’s yet to be a new Soundscan to quantify the popularity of sub rosa downloading, approved and illicit, facilitated not by local record stores but spectral online start-ups with names like Rapidshare and Soulseek. People still buy rap these days, but only the sort that’s heavily promoted by major labels, and often subsidized by above and below-board ventures that have little to do with music and much more to do with trans-media branding. There are a few crucial voices doing brilliant things with the form, but they’re less and less likely to be heard on a broad scale unless they get scooped up by the Pineapple Express trailer.
Aside from serviceable records from T.I., the Roots and Young Jeezy, 2008 was a horrible year for rap, hands down. It was also a vote-splitting year for music in general, with no big-name, consensus-forming acts releasing albums except Kanye and TV on the Radio, leading to shit like Fleet Foxes emerging as Pitchfork’s consensus number one, and a batshit comeback like Portishead’s Third at #2. 2007 was comparatively huge: Radiohead, Kanye, Feist, Wilco, Spoon, the Shins, Animal Collective, LCD Soundsystem, M.I.A., Jay-Z, Arcade Fire, the National, the White Stripes.
The heterogeneity of this year, more than anything, resulted in a mixtape by a dude from Baltimore based on fucking Seinfeld solidifying as my favorite album of 2008. It’s part of the value of doing year-end lists, really: mapping the vagaries of an entire 12 months of music onto the canvas of my tastes. In another year (like last, for instance), Wale’s The Mixtape About Nothing might have slipped completely under my radar as an attention economy gimmick for white people. Man, I’m glad Spoon and LCD didn’t release great stuff this year, because this is the signal rap record of 2008, a head-spinning, virtuosic compendium of rap’s myriad issues as it makes its way through the Web, awkwardly embraces dipshit teenage entrepreneurs like Soulja Boy, and pushes forward while consistently keeping a tether to its past. It’s indicative of the way things are nowadays, with the rise of the rap entrepreneur and the biggest recent beef involving whether Kanye or 50 would sell more albums on release day, that Wale’s impression can be summed up as, “respect has grown inferior to fuckin’ Soundscans.”
Like a minor-league Kanye, Wale Folarin is also a college dropout with tastemaking fans (Mark Ronson), with a strong desire to make his deepest feelings heard: instead of Kanye’s high-profile blog rantings, Wale reps for the social networking sites that, by themselves, create their own bizarre, disembodied form of music celebrity, as his “connects.” When you think about it, his Seinfeld gimmick isn’t too far from something that De La Soul might have done. What Wale does with it is quite brilliant, though, and in its own way a comment on the hip-hop landscape every bit as important as De La Soul is Dead. He uses Seinfeld’s nihilism of minor differences as the primer for his cynical take on hip-hop culture, in which anything approaching real support for the music and artists has been rendered as invisible and mercurial as the mp3s themselves. Or, as he explains at the end of the opening track (which of course, employs a variant on those bubbling stand-up basslines): “most niggas love nothing, so I made this tape.”
Me typing that word—you know which word—necessitates a momentary digression toward another view of the album’s core concept, which of course plays perfectly to a middle-class, pop-culture savvy, irony-appreciating contingent. Oh, and white kids. I’m not going to argue the point that part of my appreciation for Nothing lies in the fact that Wale and I like the same television show, and that he’s able to recontexualize, in a purposefully academic manner, Seinfeld’s dialogue and themes in really fun and inventive ways. In fact, I embrace that point, because it plays into one of the major joys I get from rap music as a creative idiom more generally. The cut-and-paste aesthetic ideology that hip-hop emerged from allows for performers to make very frank, and highly persuasive, arguments in many more ways than other types of music. They do this, more often than not, by reshaping slight bits of seemingly disparate stuff to create something new and hopefully invigorating.
Even more importantly, the cadence of rapping (especially when compared to pop singing) allows rappers (if they want, of course) to engage listeners in direct, specific ways: the ways that teachers, pastors, or debaters do. There’s no surprise at all that people were more frightened of N.W.A.'s possible impact upon youth than they were of Scarface or Saw Pulp Fiction. From an aesthetic (not sociological) perspective, music is a more intimate and immediate form than film, and rap is the most visceral pop music to ever exist. When I listen to rap, I find myself wanting the performer to convince more than entertain me (and I know these don’t have to be mutually-exclusive).
I know that other people listen for very different things in rap music, and this is not to say that I don’t enjoy lighter fare. I also know that this opens me up to criticism from, well, critics who will accuse me of expecting things from rappers that I don’t expect from rock singers. To which I say: of course I do (idiot), because rappers are working in a different medium, and their art should come with different expectations. I don’t need rappers to be moral, upstanding citizens any more than anyone else. But I’m not going to deny that, in terms of music, there are few things that appeal more to me than a rapper with something to say, and a fierce desire to say it, and the ability to make it sound compelling to someone other than himself. More than any rap album this year, Nothing fills all those criteria.
Its track titles read like Seinfeld show headers, complete with self-referential jabs at what Wale sees as rap’s rote predictability—“The Remake Of A Remake (All I Need),” “The Skit,” “The Cliché Lil’ Wayne Feature”—but Nothing is much more than just the product of a smart-ass sideline sniper. It’s shot through with sharp, humorous insights delivered by a guy who can flat-out rap his ass off. There's no more illustrative couplet than the one from “The Crazy”: “I’m not saying that I’m Nasir/ I’m just sayin’ rap’s dead when I’m not here.” Only a guy who thinks hip-hop culture needs a tabula rasa would make a mixtape brazen and high-spirited enough to feature drops from Bun B and Julia Louis-Dreyfuss. But only Wale, I’m convinced—who seamlessly switches between incredibly serious, ironic and meta, smart-assed and playful—could actually do something this fucked-up and goofy really well.
Wale’s made sure he was going to be heard no matter how crowded the attention economy was; his most repeated lyric here—more an improvised interjection, really, as well as a song title from his last mixtape—is “please listen to me. Please listen to me.” I don’t think I listened to another track as much in 2008 as “The Freestyle (Roc Boys),” on which Wale’s wordcount outpaces Jay-Z’s own by 10 to 1, as if he’s trying to force himself into the spotlight through sheer loquaciousness. Where Jay used the beat to relax and reflect on life at the top of the mountain, Wale murders the track, trying with all his might to work his way up. Second most listened-to was no doubt “The Kramer,” the most insightful and engaging analysis of the n-word's unseen consequences this side of Chris Rock.
Nothing’s key track, however, and the moment that most situates the album in 2008, is “The Perfect Plan.” It’s Wale’s broadside against self-obsessed rap fans, at whose hard drives he lays the blame for the rise of Soulja Boy (his stated nemesis on the record) and the decline of true lyricists, a camp within which he, obviously, situates himself. He chides 2008’s holy trinity of Wayne, Kanye and Jay-Z for not supporting art and artists in lieu of high-concept, capital-driven spectacle-producers—“rather than singing our praise, they do/ raise the bar to a level unattainable”—and admits embarrassment that Soulja Boy fans lay out money to support him more than most other rappers's so-called fans. It’s not an airtight argument, of course, and Wale contradicts himself as much as any heated debater (at times, like on "The Manipulation," on purpose). In spite of this, and really because of it, Nothing is incredibly compelling. At the end of “Plan,” he condenses his plan, developed from the disconnect between fan entitlement and artistic labor, thusly: “I just rap ‘cause I’m s’posed to, nigga this what I know/ I conclude: buy my music, no more free downloads.”
So much of rap music’s vitality comes from its contradictory rhetoric; the past 30 years of hip-hop culture has served as a public venue to discuss violence, misogyny, racism, art and commercialism, class warfare, and dozens of other things. That Wale, who built his reputation on giving away his music for free, is stating on a freely downloadable mixtape his aversion to commercial culture as well as his clear desire to immerse himself in it (this is the guy whose biggest yet hit has been “Nike Boots,” after all). Before Nothing dropped earlier this year, Wale—who includes his brief feature from the Roots’ Rising Down as the second track here—signed with Interscope, which will release his label debut in 2009. Hopefully.
It’s a strange moment right now in hip-hop: the structure of the industry leaves room for only a few major stars, and brilliant, yet star-power-free groups like the Clipse (whose stuff is much darker than anything N.W.A. ever did) have to resign themselves to eternal sales in the low six digits. But the fucked-up state of affairs, and a bigger and more variegated audience than ever before, means that the weirdest shit can also rise to the top: When else could we have seen a brilliant trickster figure like Lil’ Wayne and a wildly creative self-promoter like Kanye West emerge as not only the two biggest rap stars in the world, but also the most compelling public personalities in music? I’m not being pessimistic when I say that I think Wale’s chances of selling T.I. numbers instead of, say, Blackalicious numbers, are slim. He’s one of the most skilled, fun and intelligent rappers to come along in quite some time, but in that regard, he also sort of feels like a throwback to an earlier era. It’s clear that he thinks of himself that way: part Nas, part Chuck D., part Black Thought, part Q-Tip. But is that enough anymore, without some sort of extramusical gimmick, performative freakishness, or, brazen commercial strategy? Nothing shows that Wale, aside from being a tremendously talented performer, is also differently attuned to the current state of affairs in rap and pop than most anyone right now, and ready to talk about it. All I can say is that if his next album is anywhere as compelling as this one, please listen to him.
posted by marathonpacks at 2:50 PM
2 comments
1.02.2009
marathonpacks' Year-(Fri)end Bonanza, Volume IX:
Michael Kaufman
Okay, one more. It's worth it.
Michael Kaufmann is writing a science fiction novel that draws heavily on Aztec Cosmology, Sun Ra, Jainism and Mount Meru, hip-hop culture, and the vernacular of spam. He helps put out and promote records. He doesn't understand corn-hole, The Colts, or smoking in bars but he is proud to live in Indianapolis.
My list of musical moments, audible and otherwise. Numbered, but not hierarchical. Conflicts of interest intentionally left out, but man I love the records we put out this year.
1. Deerhoof Offend Maggie
At first it offended me. With each new album it seems as if Deerhoof has lost their touch. But that is first listen, that is nostalgia corrupting and jailing an artist to the cell of "they don't make records like they used to." Many bands have these cults, the T.D.M.R.L.T.U.T. folks. I like to think I am savvy enough to avoid joining one of them, but there I was, gnashing teeth and shaking my fist at the stereo. I think I have done this with their last three albums. In the past, I have pushed on through, given it another listen. Wait a week, try again. And then eventually I accept it, begin to appreciate it, maybe even get hooked. This time I didn't feel as hopeful.
What?! I had heard that opening track (ed: "The Tears of Music and Love"). It was in the Dazed and Confused soundtrack, or was it That 70's Show? What is this big riff classic rock mojo? Forget it. All would of been lost if it weren't for my 5 and 2 year old. I was upstairs in my office when I heard some ruckus coming up through the heating vents from their playroom. I am hearing these power guitars and them laughing! What is going on? I head downstairs, there is my 5 year old playing with Legos humming along, and my 2 year old bouncing up and down in rhythm to Greg's drums. "What are you listening to?" I ask. "Racing music," is the response from my 5-year old. I sat down and listened for a bit. Built with some Legos. Wow, this is a great record.
2. David Byrne Live at Clowes Hall
Synchronized office chair dancing on stage during a rock show should be mandatory. Middle-aged suburbanites dancing like lunatics at a recital hall concert, strangely invigorating. Frat-boy barfing over the back of one of the chairs as the concert let out? Good timing at least. Byrne was in great form, like a well-oiled lawn-bowling assassin.
3. Tristan Perich, Live at First Pres Church (SXSW)
I am three years behind the curve. Tristan's 1-Bit Music came out in 2005, but I learned about him and his music in early 2008. I decided to have him perform at the Asthmatic Kitty showcase at SXSW in the First Presbyterian Church. Unintentional stroke of curatorial genius. Tristan created these beds of 1-bit loops and then alternated between frenetic drumming and piano. The music filled the church and created a sense of post-post-millennial hymns. His 2005(?) release of 1-bit music is a CD jewel case with a headphone jack on its side, and instead of the plastic tray and shiny compact disc inside, there is a 1-bit tone generator with volume knobs and track advance button. Of course the cynical would just dismiss it as clever noise gimmickry, but not I. It is the logical punctuation to the 8-bit craze (What? You didn't know about the craze?! Do you live under a rock? Craze, I tell you). It is equally witty and minimal and composed.
5. The Favorite Albums
Simon Bookish Everything/Everything
Gang Gang Dance Saint Dymphna
Son Lux At War with Walls and Mazes
Chad VanGaalen Soft Airplane
Dosh Wolves and Wishes
These Are Powers Taro Tarot
The Weird Weeds I Miss This
Fennesz Black Sea
Wildbirds & Peacedrums Heartcore
Michael Kaufmann is writing a science fiction novel that draws heavily on Aztec Cosmology, Sun Ra, Jainism and Mount Meru, hip-hop culture, and the vernacular of spam. He helps put out and promote records. He doesn't understand corn-hole, The Colts, or smoking in bars but he is proud to live in Indianapolis.
My list of musical moments, audible and otherwise. Numbered, but not hierarchical. Conflicts of interest intentionally left out, but man I love the records we put out this year.
1. Deerhoof Offend Maggie
At first it offended me. With each new album it seems as if Deerhoof has lost their touch. But that is first listen, that is nostalgia corrupting and jailing an artist to the cell of "they don't make records like they used to." Many bands have these cults, the T.D.M.R.L.T.U.T. folks. I like to think I am savvy enough to avoid joining one of them, but there I was, gnashing teeth and shaking my fist at the stereo. I think I have done this with their last three albums. In the past, I have pushed on through, given it another listen. Wait a week, try again. And then eventually I accept it, begin to appreciate it, maybe even get hooked. This time I didn't feel as hopeful.
What?! I had heard that opening track (ed: "The Tears of Music and Love"). It was in the Dazed and Confused soundtrack, or was it That 70's Show? What is this big riff classic rock mojo? Forget it. All would of been lost if it weren't for my 5 and 2 year old. I was upstairs in my office when I heard some ruckus coming up through the heating vents from their playroom. I am hearing these power guitars and them laughing! What is going on? I head downstairs, there is my 5 year old playing with Legos humming along, and my 2 year old bouncing up and down in rhythm to Greg's drums. "What are you listening to?" I ask. "Racing music," is the response from my 5-year old. I sat down and listened for a bit. Built with some Legos. Wow, this is a great record.
2. David Byrne Live at Clowes Hall
Synchronized office chair dancing on stage during a rock show should be mandatory. Middle-aged suburbanites dancing like lunatics at a recital hall concert, strangely invigorating. Frat-boy barfing over the back of one of the chairs as the concert let out? Good timing at least. Byrne was in great form, like a well-oiled lawn-bowling assassin.
3. Tristan Perich, Live at First Pres Church (SXSW)
I am three years behind the curve. Tristan's 1-Bit Music came out in 2005, but I learned about him and his music in early 2008. I decided to have him perform at the Asthmatic Kitty showcase at SXSW in the First Presbyterian Church. Unintentional stroke of curatorial genius. Tristan created these beds of 1-bit loops and then alternated between frenetic drumming and piano. The music filled the church and created a sense of post-post-millennial hymns. His 2005(?) release of 1-bit music is a CD jewel case with a headphone jack on its side, and instead of the plastic tray and shiny compact disc inside, there is a 1-bit tone generator with volume knobs and track advance button. Of course the cynical would just dismiss it as clever noise gimmickry, but not I. It is the logical punctuation to the 8-bit craze (What? You didn't know about the craze?! Do you live under a rock? Craze, I tell you). It is equally witty and minimal and composed.
4. No Country for Old Men (Ending Credits)
Silence is golden.
Silence is golden.
5. The Favorite Albums
Simon Bookish Everything/Everything
Gang Gang Dance Saint Dymphna
Son Lux At War with Walls and Mazes
Chad VanGaalen Soft Airplane
Dosh Wolves and Wishes
These Are Powers Taro Tarot
The Weird Weeds I Miss This
Fennesz Black Sea
Wildbirds & Peacedrums Heartcore
posted by marathonpacks at 12:08 AM
0 comments
1.01.2009
marathonpacks' Year-(Fri)end Bonanza, Volume VIII: Jennifer Jones
Happy New Year. The following is the last in the series of my friends' year-end posts. It's also the best one. In case you missed it, my year-end mixes are buried in here somewhere, and my year-end lengthy write-up is forthcoming, as well.
Jennifer Lynn Jones is a second-year doctoral student in the Communication and Culture program at Indiana University, Bloomington, focusing on Film and Media Studies. Her 2007 short "in/sight" premiered this fall on The Documentary Channel. But regarding the really important stuff, she used to play viola, and one of her most cherished childhood musical memories involves a lengthy interrogation of Neil Diamond’s “I Am I Said” with her father.
My year in music has been marked by developments in both technology and content, so I decided to combine elements of the two categories within my top ten list. Here’s the down and dirty.
10. My new iMac.
I’m kind of a Luddite. I don’t believe in hopping on the new gadget bandwagon, and I really like to wait to buy new technology until I feel like a) it’s reached a low-price plateau and b) all its kinks have been worked out. As such, until this year, my computer was a 2001 Dell laptop, heavy as a bag of bricks and commonly called a dinosaur by the lab techs I phoned for monthly help. However, I work in media production, and it’s pretty near impossible to professionally edit a video on anything but a Mac. So I broke down and bought a beast, a brand-new, top-of-the-line iMac with all the attendant bells and whistles, and it has completely revolutionized the way that I interact with music. I realize that this may not seem so amazing to most people reading this blog, but it was a huge paradigm shift for me. I’d been pretty good at keeping up with reading about developments in music, but with the dinosaur, I had no way to actually experience them. Now I can, and it’s completely altered and improved my life as a result. The Luddite is still there—I only just bought my first iPod, a 2GB shuffle—but she’s melting, bit by bit.
9. Singles/Tracks.
Don’t get me wrong; a good album is great. But one of the joys of my new iMac has been rediscovering the beauty of the single. Less like a chapter to a book than a cupcake to a cake, I forgot how these little gems can be so satisfying and profound on their own, beyond the confines of the album. Surprising, I know, especially since singles were how I first uncovered the pleasures of music as a child, but procuring a single alone was a challenge during the time between the decline of vinyl production and the rise of computer downloading. Otherwise, music outside of the Top 40 charts seems to favor the album to the single, so that was where I tended to focus my attentions. But now that I have more and better access to them, I’m really savoring the specificity of singles, and decided to focus the rest of my list on the ones I’ve enjoyed the most this year.
8. Vampire Weekend “Campus”
Criticize them as you will—and Eric has—it’s hard to deny that Vampire Weekend’s eponymous album came out at the perfect time. Their Caribbean-inflected sounds added a much-needed shot of warmth to my cold Indiana winter. Although several tracks struck my fancy, “Campus” is the one that has stuck with me the most, in large part due to two key aspects of setting, the college campus generally and New York’s Columbia campus specifically. In general terms, I assume most of my attraction stems from my association with academia. As a Ph.D. student, the college campus is my chosen habitat, so making it the focus of a song about a soured student-professor romance is sure to lure me in. In specific terms, I lived in Manhattan before coming to Bloomington, so I love imagining the narrative action occurring across the Columbia campus. Aside from these aspects, I like the open-ended nature of the story and the cheekiness of the wordplay. After all, we don’t really know exactly what’s going on with the couple, but we know it’s bad enough to cause some passive-aggressive stalking on the part of the protagonist. Kefir on keffiyah, anyone?
7. Detachment Kit "NYC"
Interestingly enough, in terms of setting, this song serves as a sort of bridge in the list between New York and the South, as the band’s two founders now live in Brooklyn, but hail from Tennessee, my home state. However, I have to admit that this is about all I definitively know about the band, aside from the fact that I love this song and think it’s worthy of sharing here. I first heard “NYC” when a friend donated it to my iPod during a trip to New York this fall. Upon my initial listen, I thought it was a song from some long-lost late seventies New York punk band, but was impressed when I realized that it came from this independent, hardscrabble ensemble still at work in the city instead.
The song tells the familiar story of a New York transplant seeking fortune but finding only misfortune. However, this version seems to be framed within the independent music scene, in which success is often seen as coming from self-sacrifice to muse and vice versus simple sales. Therefore, to “come to New York City to die,” as the chorus repeats, may be part of the plan. The band beguiles the listener by beginning with that chorus in cadenced acoustic tones, then yanks them into a plunging abyss of screeching vocals, searing guitars, and smashing drums. If the musicians must go to New York to die for their art, you as a listener will also be dragged along on the ride.
6. Tammy Wynette “Good”
I grew up surrounded by country music, and though I was familiar with it, I didn’t really appreciate it until I was in my mid-twenties and getting ready to leave the South. Although I found it easy to get into most country classics and felt a particularly close connection to Loretta Lynn, I was always a little more ambivalent about Tammy Wynette. While both Loretta and Tammy might sing about rocky romances, there’s a big difference between Loretta’s assertive “Your Squaw Is on the Warpath” and Tammy’s submissive “Stand By Your Man.” Pair that with her frosted façade and famously messy marriage to George Jones, Tammy seemed to me to be the kind of woman whose music and life I might do best to avoid.
Then one day this fall I ran across “Good,” and I had to reconsider my prejudices. Wynette wrote the song with her sixties super-producer Billy Sherill, and it was produced around the time of her breakthrough singles “I Don’t Want to Play House” and “D-I-V-O-R-C-E,” though there’s not a lot of other information I could find about the single’s release or chart record. “Good” follows the form of a classic country story song, about a waitress saved from her errant ways by a customer who asks her to dance. However, her amazing grace is more lost than found as she succumbs to temptation and squanders the love of her savior. The lyrics are deceptively, cleverly simple, with two main verses that mirror each other through redemption and ruin, bridged by a chorus professing the flawed protagonist’s plaintive desire to be “good.” The music is likewise straightforward, starting with four rhythmic strums in two measures of 4/4 time, then building up in instruments and volume to crescendos at the chorus. However, in my mind, the song still remains somehow elegant, spare, lacking the full country flourishes that would have been easy to include at the time. To me, the song’s lack of adornment points not only to its accessibility, but also to the pain of its protagonist, who remains scorned, raw, and despite her capacity for conquest, painfully alone.
5. Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet “A Fuller Wine”
Washburn was already known for her work as part of bluegrass outfits Cleary Brothers and Uncle Earl, but took a new direction after a US-government-sponsored goodwill tour of China in 2005. There, Washburn found herself not only performing, but also producing, as she was inspired by her long-standing love of Asian traditions to create music that melded elements of both American and Chinese folk cultures. She then teamed with fellow banjoist Bela Fleck and his counterparts in the Sparrow Quartet to record their eponymous album released in May. The result is a true gem, a unique and inspired opus that demonstrates the individuality of a specific artist while simultaneously blazing new trails for everyone in the field.
The first track release is “A Fuller Wine,” which has fewer of the more obvious Asian embellishments present on other parts of the album but still contains some connections in the flourish of its fiddle and also—in my interpretation—its austerity. The song tracks the journeys of a woman following an unrequited love around the world. In the chorus, our protagonist pines, “Everywhere I go I look for you/Do you look for me where you go to?,” while the lyrics later explain the title, referring to the promise of a dream deferred (and we know what happens to those). The song starts with the rhythm section, solely string instruments. The banjo begins, then the cello jumps in, both chugging smoothly and subtly but relentlessly like a train crossing continents, reflecting the search as well as its endless and irresolvable pursuit, what the lyrics call “this losing revelation,” that somehow persists despite—or perhaps because—of the elusiveness of its target.
4. Love is All “Wishing Well”
I’m a sucker for big beats and lush walls of sound, and this song definitely delivers on both counts. Beginning with a flood of drums, the percussion is soon accompanied by a waterfall from the keyboards that eventually plunge into the song’s sweet, plinking melody. The lyrics are silly but fun, following the protagonist’s inauspicious attempts at auguries, and the half-spoken, half sing-song delivery of lead singer Josephine Olausson’s voice contributes to the song’s overall charm.
3. Vivian Girls “Where Do You Run To?”
Ever find yourself humming along with the vacuum cleaner? Here, I think that’s a good thing. A song that so harmonically blends voices and instruments into such a hypnotic blend may not be for everyone, but I like the way that it mixes so atmospherically into the environment. And I think that it fits for the song’s searching story. The music pulsates like a heartbeat or pounding feet, seeps into your skin, and throbs repetitively yet subtly like the obsessive and unrequited desires that we all have, roiling regularly but almost imperceptibly through our passing thoughts and into our daily lives.
2. M83 “Kim and Jessie”
This is the song that’s playing when Jake Ryan walks into the school cafeteria, catches my eye, and realizes that I’m the one he’s been waiting for all along.
1. Muxtape
It was brilliant, and I’ll miss it forever.
(And BONUS, a resolution: next year, I’ll be searching for songs that have nothing to do with unrequited love. Wish me luck.)
Jennifer Lynn Jones is a second-year doctoral student in the Communication and Culture program at Indiana University, Bloomington, focusing on Film and Media Studies. Her 2007 short "in/sight" premiered this fall on The Documentary Channel. But regarding the really important stuff, she used to play viola, and one of her most cherished childhood musical memories involves a lengthy interrogation of Neil Diamond’s “I Am I Said” with her father.
My year in music has been marked by developments in both technology and content, so I decided to combine elements of the two categories within my top ten list. Here’s the down and dirty.
10. My new iMac.
I’m kind of a Luddite. I don’t believe in hopping on the new gadget bandwagon, and I really like to wait to buy new technology until I feel like a) it’s reached a low-price plateau and b) all its kinks have been worked out. As such, until this year, my computer was a 2001 Dell laptop, heavy as a bag of bricks and commonly called a dinosaur by the lab techs I phoned for monthly help. However, I work in media production, and it’s pretty near impossible to professionally edit a video on anything but a Mac. So I broke down and bought a beast, a brand-new, top-of-the-line iMac with all the attendant bells and whistles, and it has completely revolutionized the way that I interact with music. I realize that this may not seem so amazing to most people reading this blog, but it was a huge paradigm shift for me. I’d been pretty good at keeping up with reading about developments in music, but with the dinosaur, I had no way to actually experience them. Now I can, and it’s completely altered and improved my life as a result. The Luddite is still there—I only just bought my first iPod, a 2GB shuffle—but she’s melting, bit by bit.
9. Singles/Tracks.
Don’t get me wrong; a good album is great. But one of the joys of my new iMac has been rediscovering the beauty of the single. Less like a chapter to a book than a cupcake to a cake, I forgot how these little gems can be so satisfying and profound on their own, beyond the confines of the album. Surprising, I know, especially since singles were how I first uncovered the pleasures of music as a child, but procuring a single alone was a challenge during the time between the decline of vinyl production and the rise of computer downloading. Otherwise, music outside of the Top 40 charts seems to favor the album to the single, so that was where I tended to focus my attentions. But now that I have more and better access to them, I’m really savoring the specificity of singles, and decided to focus the rest of my list on the ones I’ve enjoyed the most this year.
8. Vampire Weekend “Campus”
Criticize them as you will—and Eric has—it’s hard to deny that Vampire Weekend’s eponymous album came out at the perfect time. Their Caribbean-inflected sounds added a much-needed shot of warmth to my cold Indiana winter. Although several tracks struck my fancy, “Campus” is the one that has stuck with me the most, in large part due to two key aspects of setting, the college campus generally and New York’s Columbia campus specifically. In general terms, I assume most of my attraction stems from my association with academia. As a Ph.D. student, the college campus is my chosen habitat, so making it the focus of a song about a soured student-professor romance is sure to lure me in. In specific terms, I lived in Manhattan before coming to Bloomington, so I love imagining the narrative action occurring across the Columbia campus. Aside from these aspects, I like the open-ended nature of the story and the cheekiness of the wordplay. After all, we don’t really know exactly what’s going on with the couple, but we know it’s bad enough to cause some passive-aggressive stalking on the part of the protagonist. Kefir on keffiyah, anyone?
7. Detachment Kit "NYC"
Interestingly enough, in terms of setting, this song serves as a sort of bridge in the list between New York and the South, as the band’s two founders now live in Brooklyn, but hail from Tennessee, my home state. However, I have to admit that this is about all I definitively know about the band, aside from the fact that I love this song and think it’s worthy of sharing here. I first heard “NYC” when a friend donated it to my iPod during a trip to New York this fall. Upon my initial listen, I thought it was a song from some long-lost late seventies New York punk band, but was impressed when I realized that it came from this independent, hardscrabble ensemble still at work in the city instead.
The song tells the familiar story of a New York transplant seeking fortune but finding only misfortune. However, this version seems to be framed within the independent music scene, in which success is often seen as coming from self-sacrifice to muse and vice versus simple sales. Therefore, to “come to New York City to die,” as the chorus repeats, may be part of the plan. The band beguiles the listener by beginning with that chorus in cadenced acoustic tones, then yanks them into a plunging abyss of screeching vocals, searing guitars, and smashing drums. If the musicians must go to New York to die for their art, you as a listener will also be dragged along on the ride.
6. Tammy Wynette “Good”
I grew up surrounded by country music, and though I was familiar with it, I didn’t really appreciate it until I was in my mid-twenties and getting ready to leave the South. Although I found it easy to get into most country classics and felt a particularly close connection to Loretta Lynn, I was always a little more ambivalent about Tammy Wynette. While both Loretta and Tammy might sing about rocky romances, there’s a big difference between Loretta’s assertive “Your Squaw Is on the Warpath” and Tammy’s submissive “Stand By Your Man.” Pair that with her frosted façade and famously messy marriage to George Jones, Tammy seemed to me to be the kind of woman whose music and life I might do best to avoid.
Then one day this fall I ran across “Good,” and I had to reconsider my prejudices. Wynette wrote the song with her sixties super-producer Billy Sherill, and it was produced around the time of her breakthrough singles “I Don’t Want to Play House” and “D-I-V-O-R-C-E,” though there’s not a lot of other information I could find about the single’s release or chart record. “Good” follows the form of a classic country story song, about a waitress saved from her errant ways by a customer who asks her to dance. However, her amazing grace is more lost than found as she succumbs to temptation and squanders the love of her savior. The lyrics are deceptively, cleverly simple, with two main verses that mirror each other through redemption and ruin, bridged by a chorus professing the flawed protagonist’s plaintive desire to be “good.” The music is likewise straightforward, starting with four rhythmic strums in two measures of 4/4 time, then building up in instruments and volume to crescendos at the chorus. However, in my mind, the song still remains somehow elegant, spare, lacking the full country flourishes that would have been easy to include at the time. To me, the song’s lack of adornment points not only to its accessibility, but also to the pain of its protagonist, who remains scorned, raw, and despite her capacity for conquest, painfully alone.
5. Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet “A Fuller Wine”
Washburn was already known for her work as part of bluegrass outfits Cleary Brothers and Uncle Earl, but took a new direction after a US-government-sponsored goodwill tour of China in 2005. There, Washburn found herself not only performing, but also producing, as she was inspired by her long-standing love of Asian traditions to create music that melded elements of both American and Chinese folk cultures. She then teamed with fellow banjoist Bela Fleck and his counterparts in the Sparrow Quartet to record their eponymous album released in May. The result is a true gem, a unique and inspired opus that demonstrates the individuality of a specific artist while simultaneously blazing new trails for everyone in the field.
The first track release is “A Fuller Wine,” which has fewer of the more obvious Asian embellishments present on other parts of the album but still contains some connections in the flourish of its fiddle and also—in my interpretation—its austerity. The song tracks the journeys of a woman following an unrequited love around the world. In the chorus, our protagonist pines, “Everywhere I go I look for you/Do you look for me where you go to?,” while the lyrics later explain the title, referring to the promise of a dream deferred (and we know what happens to those). The song starts with the rhythm section, solely string instruments. The banjo begins, then the cello jumps in, both chugging smoothly and subtly but relentlessly like a train crossing continents, reflecting the search as well as its endless and irresolvable pursuit, what the lyrics call “this losing revelation,” that somehow persists despite—or perhaps because—of the elusiveness of its target.
4. Love is All “Wishing Well”
I’m a sucker for big beats and lush walls of sound, and this song definitely delivers on both counts. Beginning with a flood of drums, the percussion is soon accompanied by a waterfall from the keyboards that eventually plunge into the song’s sweet, plinking melody. The lyrics are silly but fun, following the protagonist’s inauspicious attempts at auguries, and the half-spoken, half sing-song delivery of lead singer Josephine Olausson’s voice contributes to the song’s overall charm.
3. Vivian Girls “Where Do You Run To?”
Ever find yourself humming along with the vacuum cleaner? Here, I think that’s a good thing. A song that so harmonically blends voices and instruments into such a hypnotic blend may not be for everyone, but I like the way that it mixes so atmospherically into the environment. And I think that it fits for the song’s searching story. The music pulsates like a heartbeat or pounding feet, seeps into your skin, and throbs repetitively yet subtly like the obsessive and unrequited desires that we all have, roiling regularly but almost imperceptibly through our passing thoughts and into our daily lives.
2. M83 “Kim and Jessie”
This is the song that’s playing when Jake Ryan walks into the school cafeteria, catches my eye, and realizes that I’m the one he’s been waiting for all along.
1. Muxtape
It was brilliant, and I’ll miss it forever.
(And BONUS, a resolution: next year, I’ll be searching for songs that have nothing to do with unrequited love. Wish me luck.)
posted by marathonpacks at 5:00 AM
0 comments
12.31.2008
marathonpacks' Year-(Fri)end Bonanza, Volume VII: Sarah Wyatt Swanson and Ben Swanson
Sarah Wyatt Swanson plays drums for Tammar (ed. note: the best band in Bloomington), is an ex-employee of Secretly Canadian Records, possesses an MFA degree in Creative Writing, and is currently working at the SPEA department at Indiana University.
Since I tend to be behind the times when it comes to buying records, I've made a list of my best live music experiences of 2008 (in alphabetical order).
Akron/Family in the Firebay at the Waldron.
I love this band. They're such a nice bunch AND their music is so weird. I mean that lovingly. How often does anything in this life defy our expectations, despite how much we long for something to defy our expectations? Everything about Akron/Family is mutable and adventuresome. I love the length of their live songs, the way each one worked patiently toward a payoff. I felt like the band was composing as I listened—no mistakes, all unfolding. Yes, I got tired toward the end and my ears were ringing and I preferred some songs to others, but all in all a really interesting and worthwhile rock show. And their Love Is Simple t-shirt was one of my favorite x-mas presents this year.
Bon Iver at the Waldron.
One of the best shows I've ever attended. The band clearly enjoyed themselves and everyone else did too. In addition to their fully-excellent renditions of the songs from For Emma, Forever Ago (which made me forget all about the album versions), the new songs they played rocked—I mean, they were full on rock songs!—and their last song, a Talk Talk cover, was exquisite. A really beautiful, communal experience.
Jon "No Parents!" Coombs' excellent live-band karaoke rendition of the Beastie Boys' hit "Sabotage" at the SC xmas party. His performance was the party's killer 3-minute climax.
Frida Hyvonen in the Firebay at the Waldron.
As some of y'all might remember, Frida's first show in Bloomington at Second Story was less than awesome. Her second appearance this fall was excellent. She was engaged and engaging, theatrical, mesmerizing. Seeing her live for a second time in such a happy state and in a much more suitable venue revealed what a great performer she is, in addition to being such an interesting pianist, singer and lyricist. I love how Frida can sing about a subject as taboo as abortion and absolutely avoid every cliché and evince not a trace of sentimentality. She really impressed me live this year—so, let go of your grudges and be sure you go see her the next time she's here in Bloomington!
Oneida at the Bluebird.
If I had to choose only one band to see live in Bloomington in 2008, Oneida would've been my choice. They're one of my very favorite bands, having produced several of my favorite records, performed several of my favorite live shows, and containing (at least) three of my favorite musicians—including the ever-astounding rhythm scientist, Kid Millions, who happens to be my #1 drum idol. Their return to Bloomington this summer was a highlight of 2008. Their performance of Preteen Weaponry was sweaty and precise and entrancing. The audience was slimmer than it should've been—when will Oneida get their full deserved mega-props???—but, nonetheless, we were all transported together into the realm of O where the rock abides and presides over us, its willing slaves. Oneida! And—bonus!—they had a nice new t-shirt for sale. I bought one, of course, though I do still wear my circa-1999 camouflage version as well.
War on Drugs at Schuba's in Chicago.
Wagonwheel Blues is a real album (and a great one at that). You can put it on and listen to it from beginning to end without noticing the pauses between songs (though I do tend to repeat certain sublime tracks). Everyone has compared Adam Granduciel to Bob Dylan, and I think they're right—Adam's lyrics are dense and intellectual, rich in paradoxes, and full of emotions so palpable they sound spontaneous, even when listened to on repeat. The music is full of hooks and shifts. I love it! Seeing them live in Chicago (new drum idol Mike Zanghi on the skins) I realized just how much charisma Adam embodies, in his double denim ensemble and his Grateful Dead t-shirt looking older than he should. I felt called to be part of something—a great, full feeling—until the show ended and everyone filed reluctantly out into the cold.
Wilderness at Jake's.
Okay, so they took way too long to set up and played a few songs too long. But Wilderness is rad because when you're at their show you are in it. All antics are believable and appropriate. The music swells and cedes, and you swell and cede with it, hypnotically. I hardly ever put on a Wilderness record, but I do look forward to their live shows, and this fall they reinvigorated my affection for their sounds with a really heavy rock show.
---------------
Ben Swanson currently works for Secretly Canadian Records, as well as subsidiaries Jagjaguwar, Dead Oceans, the under-13 label "SC 4 Kidz Only", B.U.M. Equipment, and the Washington Nationals. In fact, one might say that he may or may not have come up with the idea for these ventures at some point. His email signature line reads "GM," which I'm assuming has something to do with fantasy sports. He plays an instrument with keys on it in Tammar as well.
Tobacco Fucked Up Friends
Beat driven collage vocoder rock. Totally weird and highly enjoyable. If video game music could ever be badass, Tobacco would clean up.
Kurt Vile Constant Hitmaker
Not entirely consistent, but when Vile hits, he hits the right spot. Taking melodic cues from '80s soft anthem rock and disintegrating them into a new sound. Or, lets be honest, if I could choose War on Drugs' debut I would, but no one appreciates nepotism and I'm have to live with myself; Constant Hitmaker comes in a close 2nd.
Santogold S/T
Not entirely what I was expecting, but way addictive.
Hercules And Love Affair
Totally what I was expecting and way addictive.
Vampire Weekend
I'm sure there will be some shit thrown, but fuck it. The band released an incredible debut that scratched my Talking Heads itch better than any band since 1985, AND they cleaned up on it. Totally impressive.
Since I tend to be behind the times when it comes to buying records, I've made a list of my best live music experiences of 2008 (in alphabetical order).
Akron/Family in the Firebay at the Waldron.
I love this band. They're such a nice bunch AND their music is so weird. I mean that lovingly. How often does anything in this life defy our expectations, despite how much we long for something to defy our expectations? Everything about Akron/Family is mutable and adventuresome. I love the length of their live songs, the way each one worked patiently toward a payoff. I felt like the band was composing as I listened—no mistakes, all unfolding. Yes, I got tired toward the end and my ears were ringing and I preferred some songs to others, but all in all a really interesting and worthwhile rock show. And their Love Is Simple t-shirt was one of my favorite x-mas presents this year.
Bon Iver at the Waldron.
One of the best shows I've ever attended. The band clearly enjoyed themselves and everyone else did too. In addition to their fully-excellent renditions of the songs from For Emma, Forever Ago (which made me forget all about the album versions), the new songs they played rocked—I mean, they were full on rock songs!—and their last song, a Talk Talk cover, was exquisite. A really beautiful, communal experience.
Jon "No Parents!" Coombs' excellent live-band karaoke rendition of the Beastie Boys' hit "Sabotage" at the SC xmas party. His performance was the party's killer 3-minute climax.
Frida Hyvonen in the Firebay at the Waldron.
As some of y'all might remember, Frida's first show in Bloomington at Second Story was less than awesome. Her second appearance this fall was excellent. She was engaged and engaging, theatrical, mesmerizing. Seeing her live for a second time in such a happy state and in a much more suitable venue revealed what a great performer she is, in addition to being such an interesting pianist, singer and lyricist. I love how Frida can sing about a subject as taboo as abortion and absolutely avoid every cliché and evince not a trace of sentimentality. She really impressed me live this year—so, let go of your grudges and be sure you go see her the next time she's here in Bloomington!
Oneida at the Bluebird.
If I had to choose only one band to see live in Bloomington in 2008, Oneida would've been my choice. They're one of my very favorite bands, having produced several of my favorite records, performed several of my favorite live shows, and containing (at least) three of my favorite musicians—including the ever-astounding rhythm scientist, Kid Millions, who happens to be my #1 drum idol. Their return to Bloomington this summer was a highlight of 2008. Their performance of Preteen Weaponry was sweaty and precise and entrancing. The audience was slimmer than it should've been—when will Oneida get their full deserved mega-props???—but, nonetheless, we were all transported together into the realm of O where the rock abides and presides over us, its willing slaves. Oneida! And—bonus!—they had a nice new t-shirt for sale. I bought one, of course, though I do still wear my circa-1999 camouflage version as well.
War on Drugs at Schuba's in Chicago.
Wagonwheel Blues is a real album (and a great one at that). You can put it on and listen to it from beginning to end without noticing the pauses between songs (though I do tend to repeat certain sublime tracks). Everyone has compared Adam Granduciel to Bob Dylan, and I think they're right—Adam's lyrics are dense and intellectual, rich in paradoxes, and full of emotions so palpable they sound spontaneous, even when listened to on repeat. The music is full of hooks and shifts. I love it! Seeing them live in Chicago (new drum idol Mike Zanghi on the skins) I realized just how much charisma Adam embodies, in his double denim ensemble and his Grateful Dead t-shirt looking older than he should. I felt called to be part of something—a great, full feeling—until the show ended and everyone filed reluctantly out into the cold.
Wilderness at Jake's.
Okay, so they took way too long to set up and played a few songs too long. But Wilderness is rad because when you're at their show you are in it. All antics are believable and appropriate. The music swells and cedes, and you swell and cede with it, hypnotically. I hardly ever put on a Wilderness record, but I do look forward to their live shows, and this fall they reinvigorated my affection for their sounds with a really heavy rock show.
---------------
Ben Swanson currently works for Secretly Canadian Records, as well as subsidiaries Jagjaguwar, Dead Oceans, the under-13 label "SC 4 Kidz Only", B.U.M. Equipment, and the Washington Nationals. In fact, one might say that he may or may not have come up with the idea for these ventures at some point. His email signature line reads "GM," which I'm assuming has something to do with fantasy sports. He plays an instrument with keys on it in Tammar as well.
Tobacco Fucked Up Friends
Beat driven collage vocoder rock. Totally weird and highly enjoyable. If video game music could ever be badass, Tobacco would clean up.
Kurt Vile Constant Hitmaker
Not entirely consistent, but when Vile hits, he hits the right spot. Taking melodic cues from '80s soft anthem rock and disintegrating them into a new sound. Or, lets be honest, if I could choose War on Drugs' debut I would, but no one appreciates nepotism and I'm have to live with myself; Constant Hitmaker comes in a close 2nd.
Santogold S/T
Not entirely what I was expecting, but way addictive.
Hercules And Love Affair
Totally what I was expecting and way addictive.
Vampire Weekend
I'm sure there will be some shit thrown, but fuck it. The band released an incredible debut that scratched my Talking Heads itch better than any band since 1985, AND they cleaned up on it. Totally impressive.
posted by marathonpacks at 4:04 PM
1 comments
Happy 2007 Everybody!
Man, can you believe the Democrats were able to take over the House and Senate in this crazy year 2006? Hopefully my Indianapolis Colts have what it takes to make it to the Super Bowl. Man, this housing bubble never seems to want to pop, does it? Probably never will.
For serious, now: I'm re-posting this mix, my first year-ender from 2006, because I think it's pretty good--one of the best I've made, I think. And it turns out: 2006 was a good year for music, too! Remember? The mix is also pretty dancey (or at least focused on rhythm [until the end, but people will be cashed-out by then]), in case you need some last-minute iPod material for your New Year's fiesta. 2006? 2008? your friends won't know the difference, and your real friends know but don't care. Your enemies? Fuck them, anyway.
Here's to 2007 being the greatest year ever!
Mix 1 (67:30)
1. OOIOO || “UMO” || Taiga
2. The New Sound of Numbers || “Minimal Animal” || Liberty Seeds
3. Yo La Tengo || “The Room Got Heavy” || I Am Not Afraid of You...
4. Casiotone for the Painfully Alone || “Young Shields” || Etiquette
5. Matmos || “Steam and Sequins for Larry Levan” || The Rose has Teeth...
6. Fujiya & Miyagi || “Collarbone” || Transparent Things
7. Persephone’s Bees || “City of Love” || Notes from the Underworld
8. Justin Timberlake || “Damn Girl” || FutureSex/LoveSounds
9. Stereolab || “Interlock” || Fab Four Suture
10. Cansei de Ser Sexy || “Let’s Make Love…” || Cansei de Ser Sexy
11. Tom Zé || “Ave Dor Maria” || Estudando O Pagode
12. American Watercolor Movement || “Flowers for Catalan” || It Takes Fifteen…
13. TV on the Radio || “Wolf Like Me” || Return to Cookie Mountain
14. Califone || “A Chinese Actor” || Roots and Crowns
15. The Flaming Lips || “The Sound of Failure” || At War With the Mystics
16. Sonic Youth || “Do You Believe in Rapture” || Rather Ripped
17. Hanne Hukkelberg || “Break My Body” || Rykestraße 68
For serious, now: I'm re-posting this mix, my first year-ender from 2006, because I think it's pretty good--one of the best I've made, I think. And it turns out: 2006 was a good year for music, too! Remember? The mix is also pretty dancey (or at least focused on rhythm [until the end, but people will be cashed-out by then]), in case you need some last-minute iPod material for your New Year's fiesta. 2006? 2008? your friends won't know the difference, and your real friends know but don't care. Your enemies? Fuck them, anyway.
Here's to 2007 being the greatest year ever!
Mix 1 (67:30)
1. OOIOO || “UMO” || Taiga
2. The New Sound of Numbers || “Minimal Animal” || Liberty Seeds
3. Yo La Tengo || “The Room Got Heavy” || I Am Not Afraid of You...
4. Casiotone for the Painfully Alone || “Young Shields” || Etiquette
5. Matmos || “Steam and Sequins for Larry Levan” || The Rose has Teeth...
6. Fujiya & Miyagi || “Collarbone” || Transparent Things
7. Persephone’s Bees || “City of Love” || Notes from the Underworld
8. Justin Timberlake || “Damn Girl” || FutureSex/LoveSounds
9. Stereolab || “Interlock” || Fab Four Suture
10. Cansei de Ser Sexy || “Let’s Make Love…” || Cansei de Ser Sexy
11. Tom Zé || “Ave Dor Maria” || Estudando O Pagode
12. American Watercolor Movement || “Flowers for Catalan” || It Takes Fifteen…
13. TV on the Radio || “Wolf Like Me” || Return to Cookie Mountain
14. Califone || “A Chinese Actor” || Roots and Crowns
15. The Flaming Lips || “The Sound of Failure” || At War With the Mystics
16. Sonic Youth || “Do You Believe in Rapture” || Rather Ripped
17. Hanne Hukkelberg || “Break My Body” || Rykestraße 68
posted by marathonpacks at 2:06 PM
1 comments
marathonpacks' Year-(Fri)end Bonanza, Volume VI: Nate Hileman
Nate Hileman lives in Chicago and currently handles ad sales for Pitchfork Media. He's spent the last six or so years employed in various facets of the music industry. Besides music, he's obsessed with managing fantasy sports teams and is convinced he could turn around the Pittsburgh Pirates if given an opportunity. While writing this blurb, he mock drafted Matt Kemp and Jay Bruce in the 7th and 8th rounds.
Lykke Li Youth Novels
I wrote this mid-march after seeing her at SXSW. A trusted coworker's interest tipped me off to pay attention. While this was clearly written during the early listening, excitement and all, I remain convinced:
"Where do i sign up for this one?"
Indeed, still more than a little bit infatuated. Her performance bowled me over; she's a natural entertainer, and i say this in reference to a performance where she mostly danced in place. for proof look here (mute it -- it's blown out). Her music is the only thing that has subsided my unending anxious terror of our species' future at the hands of this. If you want to help me stop that thing, listen to Lykke Li....smile, dance, and be happy for yourself.
I'm not normally the type to proselytize smiling or dancing or being happy for one's self. Did you see that guy kick it? Climbing down a bed of rocks? Up a hill?! Through snow? Carrying weights? Jumping over a "hazard"?! Oh no, I think I may be freaking out again.
Jeremy Jay A Place Where We Could Go
Several years ago i was introduced to Jeremy Jay by a friend with golden ears. What i heard then in those early recordings ("You Came From A Far Away Land") recalled dark Echo & the Bunnymen tones with an appreciation for space. I've been waiting for a year, though. Going back to last fall's Airwalker EP and this spring's full-length sibling A Place Where We Could Go, this has been a Jeremy Jay year for me. His EP soundtracked the winter/spring transition so appropriately--the cold melodies patiently pacing an echoed Bowie/Richman vocal. Opening both releases with very short intros lent well to his unique dreamscape world, and indeed, the LP is a dream narrative filled with lampposts, dark green velvet curtains and living dolls. Spending far too much time analyzing these worlds, I grew convinced the song titles read together formed a poem. Having met him briefly, I understand even more is yet to be released. I look forward to many more Jeremy Jay years.
Reggie Watts
Imagine walking into a packed comedy club during sxsw to escape the bullshit to encounter this. What Reggie Watts does defies categorization. He's incredibly intelligent, dryly hilarious and a gifted composer and singer.
War on Drugs Wagonwheel Blues/Kurt Vile Constant Hitmaker
War on Drugs primarily consists of Adam Granduciel and Kurt Vile. Though I came to Kurt Vile's solo release without knowing his involvement with WoD, I quickly made the association. It's hard not to, honestly. Hitmaker's standout opener "Freeway" could have easily joined the opening tracks of Wagonwheel. Those first WoD songs, "Arms Like Boulders" and "Taking the Farm" embrace an understanding of American ecology, bi-coastal terrain and the power struggles both personal and metaphysical contained therein. It's no surprise Granduciel and Vile are big Dylan fans, evidenced by engaging wordplay and cadences. Unlike any album this year, Blues kick-started a toe-tapping good time.
Crystal Stilts Alight of Night/Vivian Girls s/t
A cavalry of promising young bands to close the year. I'm grouping them here, not solely due to a linking band member but because they both seem to drink from the same pool of sound. Of the two, I enjoyed the Crystal Stilts far more, though the Vivian Girls wrote a couple standout songs I'm sure I'll keep coming back to. It's a bit more intriguing to anticipate what may come next from Vivian Girls, as they seem to be earlier in the process of "putting it all together." Watching several performances from Crystal Stilts at CMJ, I can imagine them playing large stages in the next couple years.
Donovan Quinn & the 13th Month s/t/Golden Birthday Infinite Leagues
I personally regard both of these releases in a manner separate from my role as casual listener/fan. Instead of being a static spectator from the outside, i witnessed the tree rings accumulate as these records aged, and eventually saw release. Both are well worth the investment for anyone with the free time to spend with my humble musings. Tip-sheet includes: DQ's "Take the Cross Off the Mantle" and "Dark Angel"; GB's "Hold onto Love" and "A Kiss Away".
M83 Saturdays=Youth/Cut Copy In Ghost Colours
One sunny afternoon early this spring I walked back into the office from a smoke break to M83's Saturdays=Youth being played loudly from across the room. Within the next week I first heard the Cut Copy album. For a while there, as Chicago thawed, I questioned my hardheaded resistance of electronic music. I admittedly consume very little of thise type of record, but when it's good, I try to pay attention (LCD, AC, etc). While the M83 record may've been better intended for a younger listener, there's nothing like reminiscing with new wave.
With a similar sentiment, In Ghost Colours did new wave redux with a much faster pulse. I imagine if this band is playing on New Year's Eve the audience is in for a memorable evening.
Paul Westerberg 49:00
Always appreciative of his music, this release harkened back to the first Grandpaboy recording on Vagrant. I recently replaced my copy, partially due to having listened to this 49 cent one-track online release. I don't care if Paul Westerberg ever decides to enter another proper studio to record, I'll be happy taking his straight-on rock and roll in this unedited and unfettered fashion. It's like tuning stations on Westerberg Radio.
Lykke Li Youth Novels
I wrote this mid-march after seeing her at SXSW. A trusted coworker's interest tipped me off to pay attention. While this was clearly written during the early listening, excitement and all, I remain convinced:
"Where do i sign up for this one?"
Indeed, still more than a little bit infatuated. Her performance bowled me over; she's a natural entertainer, and i say this in reference to a performance where she mostly danced in place. for proof look here (mute it -- it's blown out). Her music is the only thing that has subsided my unending anxious terror of our species' future at the hands of this. If you want to help me stop that thing, listen to Lykke Li....smile, dance, and be happy for yourself.
I'm not normally the type to proselytize smiling or dancing or being happy for one's self. Did you see that guy kick it? Climbing down a bed of rocks? Up a hill?! Through snow? Carrying weights? Jumping over a "hazard"?! Oh no, I think I may be freaking out again.
Jeremy Jay A Place Where We Could Go
Several years ago i was introduced to Jeremy Jay by a friend with golden ears. What i heard then in those early recordings ("You Came From A Far Away Land") recalled dark Echo & the Bunnymen tones with an appreciation for space. I've been waiting for a year, though. Going back to last fall's Airwalker EP and this spring's full-length sibling A Place Where We Could Go, this has been a Jeremy Jay year for me. His EP soundtracked the winter/spring transition so appropriately--the cold melodies patiently pacing an echoed Bowie/Richman vocal. Opening both releases with very short intros lent well to his unique dreamscape world, and indeed, the LP is a dream narrative filled with lampposts, dark green velvet curtains and living dolls. Spending far too much time analyzing these worlds, I grew convinced the song titles read together formed a poem. Having met him briefly, I understand even more is yet to be released. I look forward to many more Jeremy Jay years.
Reggie Watts
Imagine walking into a packed comedy club during sxsw to escape the bullshit to encounter this. What Reggie Watts does defies categorization. He's incredibly intelligent, dryly hilarious and a gifted composer and singer.
War on Drugs Wagonwheel Blues/Kurt Vile Constant Hitmaker
War on Drugs primarily consists of Adam Granduciel and Kurt Vile. Though I came to Kurt Vile's solo release without knowing his involvement with WoD, I quickly made the association. It's hard not to, honestly. Hitmaker's standout opener "Freeway" could have easily joined the opening tracks of Wagonwheel. Those first WoD songs, "Arms Like Boulders" and "Taking the Farm" embrace an understanding of American ecology, bi-coastal terrain and the power struggles both personal and metaphysical contained therein. It's no surprise Granduciel and Vile are big Dylan fans, evidenced by engaging wordplay and cadences. Unlike any album this year, Blues kick-started a toe-tapping good time.
Crystal Stilts Alight of Night/Vivian Girls s/t
A cavalry of promising young bands to close the year. I'm grouping them here, not solely due to a linking band member but because they both seem to drink from the same pool of sound. Of the two, I enjoyed the Crystal Stilts far more, though the Vivian Girls wrote a couple standout songs I'm sure I'll keep coming back to. It's a bit more intriguing to anticipate what may come next from Vivian Girls, as they seem to be earlier in the process of "putting it all together." Watching several performances from Crystal Stilts at CMJ, I can imagine them playing large stages in the next couple years.
Donovan Quinn & the 13th Month s/t/Golden Birthday Infinite Leagues
I personally regard both of these releases in a manner separate from my role as casual listener/fan. Instead of being a static spectator from the outside, i witnessed the tree rings accumulate as these records aged, and eventually saw release. Both are well worth the investment for anyone with the free time to spend with my humble musings. Tip-sheet includes: DQ's "Take the Cross Off the Mantle" and "Dark Angel"; GB's "Hold onto Love" and "A Kiss Away".
M83 Saturdays=Youth/Cut Copy In Ghost Colours
One sunny afternoon early this spring I walked back into the office from a smoke break to M83's Saturdays=Youth being played loudly from across the room. Within the next week I first heard the Cut Copy album. For a while there, as Chicago thawed, I questioned my hardheaded resistance of electronic music. I admittedly consume very little of thise type of record, but when it's good, I try to pay attention (LCD, AC, etc). While the M83 record may've been better intended for a younger listener, there's nothing like reminiscing with new wave.
With a similar sentiment, In Ghost Colours did new wave redux with a much faster pulse. I imagine if this band is playing on New Year's Eve the audience is in for a memorable evening.
Paul Westerberg 49:00
Always appreciative of his music, this release harkened back to the first Grandpaboy recording on Vagrant. I recently replaced my copy, partially due to having listened to this 49 cent one-track online release. I don't care if Paul Westerberg ever decides to enter another proper studio to record, I'll be happy taking his straight-on rock and roll in this unedited and unfettered fashion. It's like tuning stations on Westerberg Radio.
posted by marathonpacks at 12:54 PM
0 comments
marathonpacks' Year-(Fri)end Bonanza, Volume V: Jon Hertzberg
Robert Towne Personal Best
This is, of course, not a 2008 music release. It's a somewhat obscure 1982 drama written and directed by Robert Towne that was finally released on DVD in early 2008. (You can read my extended thoughts on the film here.) Not only is it one of the finest films about athletic competition, it is also an invaluable time capsule of the late 1970s and early 1980s, bolstered immeasurably by its bouncy, positively "yacht-y" soundtrack. In one of the film's most inspired moments, a collection of world class female athletes play a spirited game of touch football to the Doobie Brothers' "What a Fool Believes." Other highlights include: "Rosalinda's Eyes" (Billy Joel), "It's Over" (Boz Scaggs), "You Make Loving Fun" (Fleetwood Mac), and "You Don't Know Me" (Kenny Loggins). In addition, the original score is by one of my personal heroes, Jack Nitzsche who uses snippets from his classic St. Giles Cripplegate album.
Dennis Wilson Pacific Oean Blue
Clearly someone was reading my "best-of" list from last year because Legacy pulled out all the stops on their deluxe reissue of the first Beach Boys solo album.
Various Artists Going Places: The August Darnell Years 1976-1983
Kid Creole & the Coconuts, Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band, Don Armando's Second Avenue Rhumba Band, Aural Exciters: August Darnell had a hand in all of these offbeat disco projects centered around the downtown New York scene of the early 80s. For those who enjoyed the Ze reissues (Mutant Disco, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, the Contortions, NY No Wave), which overlap a bit with this release, this is an essential purchase. Kid Creole's back catalog is back in print, but for those who want a taste, this is a good primer.
David Byrne/Brian Eno Everything That Happens Will Happen Today
A far cry from their first collaboration, the new Byrne and Eno album finds them in terrain more similar to latter day Talking Heads. Eno wrote the music and Byrne provided lyrics. It's not as a significant a statement as My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, but it is a fine, upbeat and melodic record.
Disco Italia: Essential Italo Disco Classics 1977-1985
Another fine compilation from Strut. This one will appeal to fans of Moroder and Cerrone and the like and is a nice companion to the 2007 After Dark compilation released by Italians Do It Better and Morgan Geist's now out-of-print Unclassics compilation from 2004.
Cut Copy In Ghost Colours
I was sorry these guys got held up at the airport and missed much of their Pitchfork slot. Colours is an assured, soaring pop record that will be music to the ears of new wave aficionados. Production by DFA's Tim Goldsworthy is an asset.
Elmer Bernstein Heavy Metal: The Score
No, not the double LP rock soundtrack, but the glorious original score by Golden Age maestro Elmer Bernstein, finally available on CD after years of subpar bootlegs. Bernstein had just begun his fruitful collaboration with director/producer Ivan Reitman, when he composed the score to the often ridiculous, but always entertaining Heavy Metal. Befitting the omnibus structure of the film, Bernstein's score traffics in a variety of styles (heroic, comedy, horror, adventure) to great effect. As usual, FSM's reissue contains the requisite in-depth liner notes, extra tracks, and cleaned-up sound.
Various Artists La France: Chansons
This is a 2007 release, but since it and the film it belongs to have received such little exposure in the States, I'm including it here. Serge Bozon's WWI-era film is based around a ragtag, A.W.O.L. band of French soldiers who periodically break into an anachronistic '60s pop outfit. Former DJ and avid record collector Bozon has used cult figure John Pantry (later to engineer Bee Gees records) and his song "Gospel Lane" as the thematic basis for the film's original tunes sung in French and English.
TV on the Radio Dear Science
I'm going to be like everyone else and include the consensus top album of 2008 on my list. Some call it overrated (inevitable), but this is a driving, pulsating record with groove, which at the same time retains an ominous tone and a politically astute sensibility.
Hercules and Love Affair S/T
Aided by pros like Antony and !!! bassist Tyler Pope, Andrew Butler is the creative force behind Hercules and Love Affair, a neo-disco project which owes a lot to the likes of Arthur Russell, Patrick Cowley, Bronski Beat, and Sylvester. It's so meticulously and creatively conceived that it becomes much more than a derivative revivalist work. Filled with energy, hooks, and groove, this is an essential dance album.
This is, of course, not a 2008 music release. It's a somewhat obscure 1982 drama written and directed by Robert Towne that was finally released on DVD in early 2008. (You can read my extended thoughts on the film here.) Not only is it one of the finest films about athletic competition, it is also an invaluable time capsule of the late 1970s and early 1980s, bolstered immeasurably by its bouncy, positively "yacht-y" soundtrack. In one of the film's most inspired moments, a collection of world class female athletes play a spirited game of touch football to the Doobie Brothers' "What a Fool Believes." Other highlights include: "Rosalinda's Eyes" (Billy Joel), "It's Over" (Boz Scaggs), "You Make Loving Fun" (Fleetwood Mac), and "You Don't Know Me" (Kenny Loggins). In addition, the original score is by one of my personal heroes, Jack Nitzsche who uses snippets from his classic St. Giles Cripplegate album.
Dennis Wilson Pacific Oean Blue
Clearly someone was reading my "best-of" list from last year because Legacy pulled out all the stops on their deluxe reissue of the first Beach Boys solo album.
Various Artists Going Places: The August Darnell Years 1976-1983
Kid Creole & the Coconuts, Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band, Don Armando's Second Avenue Rhumba Band, Aural Exciters: August Darnell had a hand in all of these offbeat disco projects centered around the downtown New York scene of the early 80s. For those who enjoyed the Ze reissues (Mutant Disco, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, the Contortions, NY No Wave), which overlap a bit with this release, this is an essential purchase. Kid Creole's back catalog is back in print, but for those who want a taste, this is a good primer.
David Byrne/Brian Eno Everything That Happens Will Happen Today
A far cry from their first collaboration, the new Byrne and Eno album finds them in terrain more similar to latter day Talking Heads. Eno wrote the music and Byrne provided lyrics. It's not as a significant a statement as My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, but it is a fine, upbeat and melodic record.
Disco Italia: Essential Italo Disco Classics 1977-1985
Another fine compilation from Strut. This one will appeal to fans of Moroder and Cerrone and the like and is a nice companion to the 2007 After Dark compilation released by Italians Do It Better and Morgan Geist's now out-of-print Unclassics compilation from 2004.
Cut Copy In Ghost Colours
I was sorry these guys got held up at the airport and missed much of their Pitchfork slot. Colours is an assured, soaring pop record that will be music to the ears of new wave aficionados. Production by DFA's Tim Goldsworthy is an asset.
Elmer Bernstein Heavy Metal: The Score
No, not the double LP rock soundtrack, but the glorious original score by Golden Age maestro Elmer Bernstein, finally available on CD after years of subpar bootlegs. Bernstein had just begun his fruitful collaboration with director/producer Ivan Reitman, when he composed the score to the often ridiculous, but always entertaining Heavy Metal. Befitting the omnibus structure of the film, Bernstein's score traffics in a variety of styles (heroic, comedy, horror, adventure) to great effect. As usual, FSM's reissue contains the requisite in-depth liner notes, extra tracks, and cleaned-up sound.
Various Artists La France: Chansons
This is a 2007 release, but since it and the film it belongs to have received such little exposure in the States, I'm including it here. Serge Bozon's WWI-era film is based around a ragtag, A.W.O.L. band of French soldiers who periodically break into an anachronistic '60s pop outfit. Former DJ and avid record collector Bozon has used cult figure John Pantry (later to engineer Bee Gees records) and his song "Gospel Lane" as the thematic basis for the film's original tunes sung in French and English.
TV on the Radio Dear Science
I'm going to be like everyone else and include the consensus top album of 2008 on my list. Some call it overrated (inevitable), but this is a driving, pulsating record with groove, which at the same time retains an ominous tone and a politically astute sensibility.
Hercules and Love Affair S/T
Aided by pros like Antony and !!! bassist Tyler Pope, Andrew Butler is the creative force behind Hercules and Love Affair, a neo-disco project which owes a lot to the likes of Arthur Russell, Patrick Cowley, Bronski Beat, and Sylvester. It's so meticulously and creatively conceived that it becomes much more than a derivative revivalist work. Filled with energy, hooks, and groove, this is an essential dance album.
posted by marathonpacks at 6:00 AM
0 comments
12.30.2008
marathonpacks' Year-(Fri)end Bonanza, Volume IV: Michelle, Rebecca and Maureen
Michelle Lane is a fashion stylist who lives and works in New York. She used to sit next to Eric in Mr. Rockey's Geometry class. She styled her first music video this year, for Jaron Albertin's "The Lake," which can be viewed here.
Au Revoir Simone
These girls are dear friends and I frequently collaborate with them as a stylist. We just did a shoot in the Met and ran through all of the different rooms as if it were an over-sized dollhouse. The experience was almost as dreamy and surreal as their music. Loving them on the new Friendly Fires mix of "Paris". The Teenagers also did a great remix of their song "Fallen Snow".
Erik Satie
Speaking of fallen snow, I woke up to my roommate playing one of the "Gymnopedies" on the piano last week as the snow was falling outside. Dreamy...I wish every morning was like that.
Hot Chip
Great album. "One Pure Thought" is my favorite song; I love the message. It elevates! Sweet guys. Met them backstage at an event where they had to collaborate with Chaka Khan. Weird.
Franz Ferdinand
Saw them play a secret show in Brooklyn with songs from their new album a few months ago. Amazing performers. Their new stuff is better than ever. I'm loving "Ulysses."
Beach House
Thoroughly experienced Devotion in its entirety while walking through the Turner exhibit at the Met. (I know, the Met again! wtf?) Almost sensory overload, but a great way to really get to the heart of an album.
Warpaint
All girl experimental psych jam band from L.A. I love their song "Billie Holiday". I happened upon them on a visit to L.A. earlier this year. I loved the show because I could tell they were just living a dream. Plus: there just aren't enough girl jam bands out there.
Lykke Li
I listened to her album over and over again this year and had the opportunity to work with her on the lookbook for my friend's clothing line. She has the most amazing personal style and kept coming up with these great ideas on how to put the outfits together.
--------------
Rebecca Huehls has worked as an editor for ten years, aspires to be a writer as well, and lives in Indianapolis. When not working, she often runs around her historic neighborhood, listening to her iPod (softly, to preserve what’s left of hearing subjected to too many loud shows and discos) or trying to be more like her excited, curious, and happy pooch. She’s old enough to be married and recognize the ways in which her mother was right.
An Evening with David Byrne, Indianapolis, October 25, 2008
David Byrne walked onto the stage alone, dressed in white jeans, t-shirt, shoes — even his guitar shoulder strap was white. He started the concert casually with comments about the patched jackets kids were wearing for the FFA convention in town, the new album, his collaboration with Brian Eno. The band and backup singers came on stage, everyone dressed in white. Three dancers added theater to the show. They too were dressed in white. The white motif piqued my interest: was it riffing on the color of Apple computer products, millenial hopes, astronaut suits, a blank canvas?
The whole show was choreographed: at one point David, the backup vocalists, and the dancers all turned in small increments, first on their feet and then in office chairs. I felt these synchronized movements wound up the musical tension, so the energy of songs like “Once in a Lifetime” unfurled with full force, sounding new again. The crowd got up and danced, sweaty, since most people were old enough to dress sensibly for the late October chill. The lights trended to solid bright colors, with the exception of a tie-dye-like swirl. The songs mixed new material from Everything That Happens Will Happen Today with Talking Heads classics like “I Zimbra,” “Heaven,” “Crosseyed and Painless,” and “Life During Wartime.” I felt caught up in a moment that took on a life of its own.
And that moment touched a feeling within that I didn’t know was there, a feeling I link to that music and the shared experience between artist and audience. It was a feeling that the show was spectacular because so much work went into creating it. Experiencing the success of that work —the way it connected people and offered a fresh perspective — reinvigorated my desire to have an artistic life, to explore what that means to me. My head and heart merged on a single point: I have to find time and space for creativity in my ordered life of daily work. If I want the color and light, sound and dance, past and present and future played out so exquisitely on the stage, I have to give these things the same priority I give to taking out the trash each week. David Byrne and his team had a vision, and it reminded me that I might have one, too.
---------------
Maureen Forman is an artist who lives in Bloomington, Indiana and teaches drawing and design classes at Herron College of Art and Design, Ivy Tech Community College, and the John Waldron Arts Center.
WINTER
Gillian Welch Soul Journey
driving home from Christmas break somewhere in the middle of Ohio at night. Singing along loudly with a close friend, very very tired but satisfied.
SPRING
Ray LaMontagne, Iron and Wine, and Be Good Tanyas: studio music. These artists helped me paint my heart out as I worked towards my MFA thesis show and tried not to freak out.
Bon Iver
I saw him perform at Bear's Place in Bloomington. I had never heard of him before and really really liked him. Very sweet and subtle.
SUMMER
Jens Lekman
summer time giddiness.
The Once Soundtrack
driving home after saying goodbye to very close friends who moved. It was a very early summer morning and the Indiana landscape was really pretty but I felt terribly sad.
FALL
Justin Timberlake
anytime I need some motivation, usually while cooking or cleaning.
Eartha Kitt
when I want to feel more sophisticated than I am and drink a glass of wine.
Modest Mouse We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank
impatiently driving from one teaching job to the next.
Au Revoir Simone
These girls are dear friends and I frequently collaborate with them as a stylist. We just did a shoot in the Met and ran through all of the different rooms as if it were an over-sized dollhouse. The experience was almost as dreamy and surreal as their music. Loving them on the new Friendly Fires mix of "Paris". The Teenagers also did a great remix of their song "Fallen Snow".
Erik Satie
Speaking of fallen snow, I woke up to my roommate playing one of the "Gymnopedies" on the piano last week as the snow was falling outside. Dreamy...I wish every morning was like that.
Hot Chip
Great album. "One Pure Thought" is my favorite song; I love the message. It elevates! Sweet guys. Met them backstage at an event where they had to collaborate with Chaka Khan. Weird.
Franz Ferdinand
Saw them play a secret show in Brooklyn with songs from their new album a few months ago. Amazing performers. Their new stuff is better than ever. I'm loving "Ulysses."
Beach House
Thoroughly experienced Devotion in its entirety while walking through the Turner exhibit at the Met. (I know, the Met again! wtf?) Almost sensory overload, but a great way to really get to the heart of an album.
Warpaint
All girl experimental psych jam band from L.A. I love their song "Billie Holiday". I happened upon them on a visit to L.A. earlier this year. I loved the show because I could tell they were just living a dream. Plus: there just aren't enough girl jam bands out there.
Lykke Li
I listened to her album over and over again this year and had the opportunity to work with her on the lookbook for my friend's clothing line. She has the most amazing personal style and kept coming up with these great ideas on how to put the outfits together.
--------------
Rebecca Huehls has worked as an editor for ten years, aspires to be a writer as well, and lives in Indianapolis. When not working, she often runs around her historic neighborhood, listening to her iPod (softly, to preserve what’s left of hearing subjected to too many loud shows and discos) or trying to be more like her excited, curious, and happy pooch. She’s old enough to be married and recognize the ways in which her mother was right.
An Evening with David Byrne, Indianapolis, October 25, 2008
David Byrne walked onto the stage alone, dressed in white jeans, t-shirt, shoes — even his guitar shoulder strap was white. He started the concert casually with comments about the patched jackets kids were wearing for the FFA convention in town, the new album, his collaboration with Brian Eno. The band and backup singers came on stage, everyone dressed in white. Three dancers added theater to the show. They too were dressed in white. The white motif piqued my interest: was it riffing on the color of Apple computer products, millenial hopes, astronaut suits, a blank canvas?
The whole show was choreographed: at one point David, the backup vocalists, and the dancers all turned in small increments, first on their feet and then in office chairs. I felt these synchronized movements wound up the musical tension, so the energy of songs like “Once in a Lifetime” unfurled with full force, sounding new again. The crowd got up and danced, sweaty, since most people were old enough to dress sensibly for the late October chill. The lights trended to solid bright colors, with the exception of a tie-dye-like swirl. The songs mixed new material from Everything That Happens Will Happen Today with Talking Heads classics like “I Zimbra,” “Heaven,” “Crosseyed and Painless,” and “Life During Wartime.” I felt caught up in a moment that took on a life of its own.
And that moment touched a feeling within that I didn’t know was there, a feeling I link to that music and the shared experience between artist and audience. It was a feeling that the show was spectacular because so much work went into creating it. Experiencing the success of that work —the way it connected people and offered a fresh perspective — reinvigorated my desire to have an artistic life, to explore what that means to me. My head and heart merged on a single point: I have to find time and space for creativity in my ordered life of daily work. If I want the color and light, sound and dance, past and present and future played out so exquisitely on the stage, I have to give these things the same priority I give to taking out the trash each week. David Byrne and his team had a vision, and it reminded me that I might have one, too.
---------------
Maureen Forman is an artist who lives in Bloomington, Indiana and teaches drawing and design classes at Herron College of Art and Design, Ivy Tech Community College, and the John Waldron Arts Center.
WINTER
Gillian Welch Soul Journey
driving home from Christmas break somewhere in the middle of Ohio at night. Singing along loudly with a close friend, very very tired but satisfied.
SPRING
Ray LaMontagne, Iron and Wine, and Be Good Tanyas: studio music. These artists helped me paint my heart out as I worked towards my MFA thesis show and tried not to freak out.
Bon Iver
I saw him perform at Bear's Place in Bloomington. I had never heard of him before and really really liked him. Very sweet and subtle.
SUMMER
Jens Lekman
summer time giddiness.
The Once Soundtrack
driving home after saying goodbye to very close friends who moved. It was a very early summer morning and the Indiana landscape was really pretty but I felt terribly sad.
FALL
Justin Timberlake
anytime I need some motivation, usually while cooking or cleaning.
Eartha Kitt
when I want to feel more sophisticated than I am and drink a glass of wine.
Modest Mouse We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank
impatiently driving from one teaching job to the next.
posted by marathonpacks at 2:12 PM
1 comments
marathonpacks' Year-(Fri)end Bonanza, Volume III: Josh Olivo/goodhandsteam
josh olivo records music as goodhandsteam.
(in no particular order):
gang gang dance saint dymphna
my favorite album this year. because it’s the jam. sounds kinda like it’s probably the closest they can come to making a pop record.
flying lotus los angeles
a good hip hop record in a year of not that many good hip hop records. very minimal bouncy beatmakings.
mgmt oracular spectacular
i overheard a local record store employee disregarding this record as immediate and hollow or something similar. on the contrary, i think it is a very well crafted group of pop songs that sound like an album that a lot of bands wish they could make.
deerhoof offend maggie
i dont think these guys can do much wrong. and any band that sells books of the musical arrangements of their albums at their shows gets props.
high places s/t
this album kinda reminds of the panda bear album. but obviously w/ female vocals. great use of those multi-ethnic beat slices.
copy hair guitar
the problem w/ a lot of “chip tunes” is that it can turn into a redundant cycle of what sounds like mario running around on methamphetamines. which is ok in its own right, but this album comes off as less gimmicky, and more dancy. (great album for biking)
growing all the way / lateral ep
both of these releases came out this year on social registry – a super great label in my opinion. growing continue to blend sounds together to make expansive peaks and valleys of sonic introspection.
portishead third
don’t call it a comeback. portishead seems to have retained the dark/noir part of the equation, but let go the trip hop concentration that largely blew them up in the 90s. but thats ok because it's a pretty strong album which i consider worth the wait.
M83 saturdays=youth
best soundtrack to a non-existent john hughes movie EVER. the massive layers of synths are like a (french) ice cream sundae.
girl talk feed the animals
my wife and i had to move twice in four months (long story) this year. this album helped me a lot while making trips from point a to point b over and over. feels like a guilty pleasure, but i think the dude is just as viable as social commentator as he is a mp3 masher.
one day as a lion s/t
ok this album isn’t that great. but it is the vocalist for rage against the machine plus the previous drummer from the mars volta. it made me nostalgic of my time as an angst-ridden teen...who repeatedly bought platinum albums from a band whose biggest bitch was the pitfalls of capitalism. irony.
basic channel bcd-2
somewhat secretive recording/procudction/label thing, basic channel has been a huge presence of minimal techno on a bunch of great vinyl only releases in the 90s. this (only their second) cd has a bunch of those previously vinyl only singles.
vampire weekend s/t
i didn’t know what it was that made me like this record so much until i read an article about the band. they said the way they arrange songs has a lot to do with african music. this album is chalked full of short ear worms filled with quirky northeast college town existentialisms. the seemingly ‘mid-fi’ production quality is what knocks it over the fence for me. very much worth the massive hype.
autechre quaristice
i like to pretend that this is what it sounded like inside of the mars rover as it was puttering around. this warp records flagship seems to be one of the only uk glitchsters that are maintaining any type of relevance. perhaps that is because they were never entirely relevant to begin with?
sigur rós með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust
this album is WAY happier than anything else that sigur rós has done. especially considering the huge financial problems that have recently landed directly onto iceland’s forehead. hopefully it works out for them, and hopefully this band continues to make incredibly thoughtful music.
fennesz black sea
perhaps the fact that christian fennesz is from vienna, one of the most important places in the history of western music, makes his output that much more compelling, and pleasant. there’s a lot of artists on touch records that sound similar, but fennesz continues to put out very strong albums of sonic bliss.
love is all a hundred things keep me up at night
i am forever a sucker for a swedish pop sensibility...
shows i dug (in no particular order):
tussle (the bluebird, bloomington, in)
these dudes can make a big sloppy pounding beat happen like no one’s business. i am dubbing this type of music ‘some wave.’
radiohead (verizon wireless, noblesville, in) most shows in this venue sound awful and generally suck. this one very much did not. the band (and intense lighting) was in super good form. although, the typical massive traffic jam getting in from I-69 probably didn’t save as many carbon emissions as the band had hoped.
M83 (the bottom lounge, chicago, il) so M83 is basically this one guy. but live he has a crew of musicians, and some magical clear box of knobs and lights that seem to hold his venerable synthsplosions to a pretty high standard. (although opener school of seven bells was a bit of a disappointment live.)
deerhoof (the buskirk chumley theater, bloomington, in) the hoof rocked the house. seems like they are all operating with the same brain. and they sound live as opposed to exactly like the record...which is great. i think their drummer is an alien.
elliot lipp (neal marshall grand hall, bloomington, in) this dude opened for and completely outplayed daedelus. he had some slammin beats and some modular synth setup that spat out squiggly melody and rad bass lines.
(in no particular order):
gang gang dance saint dymphna
my favorite album this year. because it’s the jam. sounds kinda like it’s probably the closest they can come to making a pop record.
flying lotus los angeles
a good hip hop record in a year of not that many good hip hop records. very minimal bouncy beatmakings.
mgmt oracular spectacular
i overheard a local record store employee disregarding this record as immediate and hollow or something similar. on the contrary, i think it is a very well crafted group of pop songs that sound like an album that a lot of bands wish they could make.
deerhoof offend maggie
i dont think these guys can do much wrong. and any band that sells books of the musical arrangements of their albums at their shows gets props.
high places s/t
this album kinda reminds of the panda bear album. but obviously w/ female vocals. great use of those multi-ethnic beat slices.
copy hair guitar
the problem w/ a lot of “chip tunes” is that it can turn into a redundant cycle of what sounds like mario running around on methamphetamines. which is ok in its own right, but this album comes off as less gimmicky, and more dancy. (great album for biking)
growing all the way / lateral ep
both of these releases came out this year on social registry – a super great label in my opinion. growing continue to blend sounds together to make expansive peaks and valleys of sonic introspection.
portishead third
don’t call it a comeback. portishead seems to have retained the dark/noir part of the equation, but let go the trip hop concentration that largely blew them up in the 90s. but thats ok because it's a pretty strong album which i consider worth the wait.
M83 saturdays=youth
best soundtrack to a non-existent john hughes movie EVER. the massive layers of synths are like a (french) ice cream sundae.
girl talk feed the animals
my wife and i had to move twice in four months (long story) this year. this album helped me a lot while making trips from point a to point b over and over. feels like a guilty pleasure, but i think the dude is just as viable as social commentator as he is a mp3 masher.
one day as a lion s/t
ok this album isn’t that great. but it is the vocalist for rage against the machine plus the previous drummer from the mars volta. it made me nostalgic of my time as an angst-ridden teen...who repeatedly bought platinum albums from a band whose biggest bitch was the pitfalls of capitalism. irony.
basic channel bcd-2
somewhat secretive recording/procudction/label thing, basic channel has been a huge presence of minimal techno on a bunch of great vinyl only releases in the 90s. this (only their second) cd has a bunch of those previously vinyl only singles.
vampire weekend s/t
i didn’t know what it was that made me like this record so much until i read an article about the band. they said the way they arrange songs has a lot to do with african music. this album is chalked full of short ear worms filled with quirky northeast college town existentialisms. the seemingly ‘mid-fi’ production quality is what knocks it over the fence for me. very much worth the massive hype.
autechre quaristice
i like to pretend that this is what it sounded like inside of the mars rover as it was puttering around. this warp records flagship seems to be one of the only uk glitchsters that are maintaining any type of relevance. perhaps that is because they were never entirely relevant to begin with?
sigur rós með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust
this album is WAY happier than anything else that sigur rós has done. especially considering the huge financial problems that have recently landed directly onto iceland’s forehead. hopefully it works out for them, and hopefully this band continues to make incredibly thoughtful music.
fennesz black sea
perhaps the fact that christian fennesz is from vienna, one of the most important places in the history of western music, makes his output that much more compelling, and pleasant. there’s a lot of artists on touch records that sound similar, but fennesz continues to put out very strong albums of sonic bliss.
love is all a hundred things keep me up at night
i am forever a sucker for a swedish pop sensibility...
shows i dug (in no particular order):
tussle (the bluebird, bloomington, in)
these dudes can make a big sloppy pounding beat happen like no one’s business. i am dubbing this type of music ‘some wave.’
radiohead (verizon wireless, noblesville, in) most shows in this venue sound awful and generally suck. this one very much did not. the band (and intense lighting) was in super good form. although, the typical massive traffic jam getting in from I-69 probably didn’t save as many carbon emissions as the band had hoped.
M83 (the bottom lounge, chicago, il) so M83 is basically this one guy. but live he has a crew of musicians, and some magical clear box of knobs and lights that seem to hold his venerable synthsplosions to a pretty high standard. (although opener school of seven bells was a bit of a disappointment live.)
deerhoof (the buskirk chumley theater, bloomington, in) the hoof rocked the house. seems like they are all operating with the same brain. and they sound live as opposed to exactly like the record...which is great. i think their drummer is an alien.
elliot lipp (neal marshall grand hall, bloomington, in) this dude opened for and completely outplayed daedelus. he had some slammin beats and some modular synth setup that spat out squiggly melody and rad bass lines.
posted by marathonpacks at 1:00 PM
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