Here's a band that had so many ideas they seemed to stumble over themselves getting to them all at once. The Black Foliage album is kind of their masterpiece, but its dense restlessness makes me a little queasy. Too often it ends up screwing with its ideas before the listener has a moment to absorb them. And then there are the 10+ minute tape experiments, which are...you know. Bummer, because there are some stellar moments, like this track. I had this one in queue, and some recent sleep deprivation has given it extra resonance [...]
The Apples in Stereo are probably the most straightforward of the E6 bunch. Which is just fine when you write sterling pop songs. I suspect that if '60s jangle pop hadn't existed, guys like these would probably have invented it. Give me angelic bah-bah s and a chorus full of burly horns, and I'm a happy Songblague. The Apples in Stereo - Silver Chain
Seeing Of Montreal put on their massive, elaborate stage show a couple weeks ago, I had to marvel at how far the band has come. Who'd have thought from from those ultra-twee, ultra-dense/kaleidoscopic early albums that Kevin Barnes would come to inhabit the sci-fi space-glam, emotionally-wrenched character he now takes from town to town. The songs are a little simpler now, but conceptually just as ambitious and sometimes just as inscrutable. Barnes has never been short of ideas or ambition; that's for sure. He could probably write an album in his sleep, and then record it the next morning. [...]
I've been listening to a bunch of Elephant 6 bands lately. For those unfamiliar, here's a little primer on what that circle of bands was all about. Something still appeals to me about a group of creative folks fumbling around with nascent ideas, consolidating influences, making some stuff, and then scattering out into many permutations to give their musical whims the proper attention. With some distance from the heyday of that scene, my fondness only grows. No need to bother with descriptions of the "Elephant 6 sound." [...]
Apt song title. Indeed, I am the October man. It houses my birthday, and every time it comes around, its air gets deep inside. Here's a song that fully belongs to the season. Sparkling and crisp. And while we're on it, let me re-iterate my ongoing admiration for Bill Nelson, who is shaping up to be my MVP of 2010. Past posts certainly get at some of his appeal, but I keep finding reasons to live inside his albums from 1979 to 1983. Do check 'em out. Meanwhile, [...]
More DIY sounds. I've heard Nite Jewel referred to as the soundtrack to the blurry moments at the end of a night out. But this song feels more like early morning to me. Like a nature film on fast forward—all the animals stirring and shaking off sleep as little rays of light peak through the sky. There's nothing artificial about that intelligence. Nite Jewel - Artificial Intelligence
Love is overtaking me ...not only a fine compilation of the brilliant/eclectic Arthur Russell's more singer-songwriterly ideas, but also a beautiful sentiment in itself. Taking you over and also getting a little past you. That's what love does, right? Here's a simple song. It's probably unfinished, but still full of grace, unstrenuously poetic, and warm as a hug from someone you want to see every day. Arthur Russell - The Letter
Wow, accidental double dose of instrumental introspection. I think something zippy is in order today. Nothing earth-shattering. Just a crisp, honest slice of guitar pop from that album where Scott McCaughey had Wilco as his backing band. Which explains the vibraphone and kinda pointless fall-apart ending. Wistfulness goes nicely with bendy riffs though. The Minus 5 - Where Will You Go
There are long, weird nights that produce sharp cringes when you wake up. And then there are those unfortunate mornings that mock the conscious mind's attempt to impose a narrative onto the subconscious's desperation. Here's some music for surveying the landscape and not knowing how to step into it. Daniela Casa - Noia
I've spent enough time cruising flea markets and Etsy to appreciate the handmade economy and envy the many talents I don't seem to possess. Of course, music is the most natural thing to tinker with at home. But since any yahoo with a laptop and some ideas can realize his self-indulgent dreams, you need to be a selective browser. That said, this dude from Portland gets a much-deserved Songblague salute. Talking nice minimal synth mystery goodness from the quiet corner of a neon planet. Shermstixx - Crystal Throne of Winter
I wanna rock. Or, more precisely, I wanna listen to a group of musicians rock, and then, with all deliberate action, shake my he ad vigorously in alignment with the aforementioned rocking, and in that totality of motion, pronounce myself a participant. And I want to share the specialness with you. In 2 parts, like a 45. First stop, Sweden! Pick slides, pumping fists, and accents bent to the international rocking standard. The Hellacopters - All I've Got [...]
As a rule, I try not to get involved in Lennon vs. McCartney debates. Arguing about the Beatles' catalog is like arguing about the periodic table. But solo albums are another matter completely, and as far as Songblague is concerned, Band on the Run is clear evidence of Paul's superior post-Beatles work. And the next time someone tries to lay some crap on you about John being the more "experimental" one, just point them in the direction of McCartney II , if only for the pure weirdness of [...]
Talk about sins of omission. How could the American pop radar of 1983 have missed this Italo gem? I feel my childhood was diminished by its absence. But I partly made up for it the other day, spending hungry hours playing along with it on my little keyboard. How could I resist? It pushes nearly all my synthpop buttons — classy hummable melody, clutter-free groove, and a chorus that stirs in a little drama sauce. A classic, in short. Cube - Concert Boy
Well, it seems Songblague has been inscribed in the Book of Life. And not just because your humble host is still breathing. As chance would have it, this is post #366. The actual one year anniversary was in early March, but I was a slack mf-er and went on vacation. So, putting calendar markers aside, let's say this marks an occasion. Segueing out of Yom Kippur, here's one that's fully secular, but — as conflicted love songs go — has a sensibility that's 100% Jewish. The outro feels like an incantation, and before that, a peculiar laundry list [...]
I hope it doesn't seem like I'm scrambling for some Judaica to rock pre-Yom Kippur. Last year's fasting jam may have been more mood appropriate, but who doesn't love some good klezmer, especially when it's mixed with a noisier jazz spirit. I'm note sure if these guys are still around, but I was way into them in college. Zorn and his gang called the stuff Radical Jewish Culture, and I still like that idea. Of course, this was before I knew anything about the trad klezmer canon. I have a habit of always learning these things in reverse. [...]
Steely Dan have always been the elephant in the room around here, responsible for my fondness (obsession) for musics of a smooth and greasy character in recent years. It wasn't always this way. I'd long given them the grapefruit face, holding them with the same contempt I reserve for jam bands and subway preachers. And then suddenly, a switch flipped. There was no blinding light or burning whatever. A friend dropped their catalogue on me all at once, and as I dug in, I found that my ears were tuned directly into it. In retrospect, it shouldn't be [...]
Another old favorite makes a return. Superchunk come roaring back after nearly a decade of musical silence, except of course for building that powerhouse of a label (or at least a semi-functional business, I'm told) — Merge Records. This is a feel-good comeback. Who didn't like Superchunk? Nerdy indie rockers triumphantly rocking in their cool, no-fuss fashion. You saw them in college, and you jumped around and loved it, and then you went home to listen to more challenging music, though with a lot less joy. They have a [...]
Talk about smoothing out the edges. Blonde Redhead have come a long way since the clamor of their youth — a musical arc as old as the process of growing up. The scraped guitars and nervous bashing are gone, but a lot of implied violence and dread still live in the minor-key gauziness that envelops their songs these days. It lends character to their pretty faces. So they're going full steam ahead with dream pop, and maybe you don't think that's a good look for a band that took their name from this . [...]
You can't turn your back for a second. I jaunt off to LA and come home to find they've replaced the air! Labor Day weekend was a radiant patch of late summer bliss. Summer finally got its shit together like a stumbling performance that somehow nails the encore. But nature is decidedly unsentimental and has taken its inevitable turn without issuing a memo. Why does this ever come as a surprise? I wonder if the season's change could ever feel less binary, if we could dip our toe in autumn first rather than suddenly finding ourselves surrounded by its air. [...]
As Labor Day approaches, I find myself again compelled to swerve away from American tunes. It still bugs me that the holiday is a totally neutered version of an actual salute to Labor. Forget about a nod to unions, and how even the khaki-est of office drones has benefited from their struggles. I'm not a fan of politicized national holidays, but a little knowledge of roots of would be nice. But then, this is America, and we are dumb by profession. Apropos of that, here's one from an [...]
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